Must be dreaming..

Yeah, it's true that people can have premonitions when they dream. Hmm...I guess that my freaky dream from a few days ago can't really be one of those...heh, maybe if I was still in high school.. Of course, I'm still suffering from my oogly vampirism...I should probably diagnose myself with seasonal depression and buy myself a lamp as a sedative. Anyways, I'm sure everyone's had spasms from falling asleep or even during REM sleep. It's quite disconcerting when the "injuries" you suffer during a dream sequence ends up becoming an ache when you wake up in real life. Heh, but I guess in my case, it might just be bed sores.

I guess one propensity that I have while dreaming, which contrasts greatly in real life, would be my use of violence. Heh, even though I'm not a chicken-puff, I object to the use of physical violence, since I'm not a ruffian or brute. However, I'm sure you've been in those dreams where you suddenly throw a punch or do something or another that ends up turning into a full-scale brawl. Meh, I think those are probably all signs of repressed desire to pound in the faces of people who've pissed me off.

Anyways, you must have watched the debate today (ahemm, why not when you've probably already seen Least Likely six million times). I actually watched the prediction discussion with my mother all day and later watched the debate on CNN. I got to admit that I was disappointed by John Kerry's opener, but he later recovered and did a pretty decent job. Of course, Bush was squirming...as he should be. You can't follow a script in a dynamic debate...hence those tired old lines won't win you any points. Besides, I kept telling my mother about that lame smirk he always has on his face. Meh, why haven't Republicans gone extinct yet?

Village boom

I guess the only big news today is the fact that I now have over 100 people subscribing this Xanga. Yeah, it's a bit superficial of me to brag about this, but I'm somewhat impressed by how well it's been received by an online readership. Heh, of course, it doesn't mean that everyone checks in and comments on every little thought that I spew out of my head, but I certainly can't complain. Some of you guys come for the pictures, some for the words, and some to vent out their frustration and angst in this oh so unfair world. I guess I'll show you my gallery of Animal Crossing icons...each represent a Xanga writer who for one reason or another has been specifically mentioned in my writings. (Oh yeah, John...even though you don't like your icon...I'm still not changing it. Heh, you might think you're pudgy, but you're still cute.)

Victor	Keoammara	Phillip	Jason	John
Steven	Albert	Vince	Louis	Kris
Dez	DarkPanda	Kasie	Mike	Erwin
Linda	Tim	Milo	Kristopher	ak6
Dave	Charles	PJ	Phong	Melissa
Jaycen	Darien	Aaron	Brian	Juan
Joe

Soup du jour

I don't know if you can have Freudian slips while you're unconscious, but I had a rather distrurbing erotic dream last night. I normally can't remember my dreams or they turn out not to be dreams (as in they weren't during deep REM sleep). In any case, I had this eerie dream that I was back in high school, but this time, everything was entirely different...the school resembled more like a psychiatric hospital, even though the layout mildly resembled my high school. My classmates were totally foreign to me...they didn't look like people that I knew...but I can tell that they resembled a typical urban high school's student body. Everything seemed right as if it was a very complex vision that I was seeing, despite a lack of purpose for having such a vision.

One of the unnerving things was the fact that I was wheelchair-bound. Now, you got to admit that must have some inner meaning or something. However, I wasn't crippled or anything...I could still walk around, but I had a severe limp, which I'm guessing is why I'm a wheelchair. Unfortunately, I discovered that I couldn't get around this "school" as I had to take the stairs everywhere. That's how I found out that I could still walk...I actually got out of the wheelchair and gradually limped down the stairs. Believe it or not, I actually went through that process just so I can go to the basement to go to cafeteria for lunch. Hmm...

Perhaps the freakiest part of the dream was this teacher. I remember that it was Latin class...so I'm assuming that the teacher was a Latin teacher. He was a tall man, with a pretty good build, greasy wavy hair, and a lot of scruff. Somehow it appeared as if I liked the teacher, but I kept making antagonistic comments (heh, that's normal if you're a teenager). Since I was in a wheelchair, I felt as if I was sitting awkwardly and I think that made me feel extremely uncomfortable as I watched the teacher walk up and down the aisles during his lecture. Suddenly, this man drop his pants and takes his penis and starts rubbing it in the faces of the male students. Wha?? Yeah, I don't know why, but he kept going for the thug boys in the class. If you need to know the important detail (singular), yeah, he had a big cut penis. Even though he did all that, he didn't approach me and rub his penis in my face. As you can imagine, we were also cussing him out for his spontaenously insane action.

What does this all mean? I can only imagine that perhaps I'm experiencing a Freudian slip in my own mind. Being wheelchair-bound symbolizes a sense of immobility, but it's a self-created or false condition (since I can still walk or limp). The lack of elevators are a sign that perhaps I'm experiencing a difficulty in moving up or down in society. I'm a bit confused to why my dream was constructed around high school though...I guess it was a time that I felt confident, but the situation was reversed in my dream. Now, that teacher...I'm pretty sure he has something to do with my sexuality. I don't know, maybe it's my repressed angst to humiliate straight (acting) guys...a bukkake session can be the most appropriate homoeroticism for any dream. Heh, I think the fact that the penis was big symbolized how bad I wanted them to be humiliated and emasculated.

Gee, I wonder if there's a gay viligante out there teaching homophobes a lesson like that. BukkakeMan away!

Rocketman

If I could choose my path as easily as some more blessed folks, I guess I would follow in my father's ways. No, it's not the malevolent business world that he rules with this evil iron first. I don't think I'm heartless enough to ever make decisions like he does...I guess that's why very few employers are convinced that I can be placed in a managerial positions - ahemm, I guess I'm too nice. Anyways, I would have my chosen career as an information broker...I feel that I'm qualified to be an individual who providers insider information, even to the most seedy parts of the black market. Now, how does one become an information broker?

I should at least try and communicate with my father and try and learn some of his tricks. I have to admit that he certainly has all the networking connections that I've always died for. However, I guess I have my own connections and access to one of the most powerful people in American pop culture...ahemm, that would be you. Of course, one of the job hazards of being an information broker is, of course, the frequent beatings by rawdy information seekers. Heh, it's certainly the type dished out like bad cop flicks...but I guess I can survive a beatdown. If I ever do become an information broker, however, I'd fashion myself as the one in Big O...sitting discreet in a pub and selling information to guys who are siting behind. Ahh, the sweet life!

Limp-stick

I had a cute conversation with Brian about some lingering questions on his mind after reading my last few entries. Although I don't want to disclose the details of the chat, I'd say it was fun to actually have someone come back with feedback and questions about your writing. It's encouraging to know that some folks actually take something away with their reading...or at least critically analyzing what folks are writing about. Heh, I have to admit that I don't do that often enough here on Xanga. I think the person I've really ever been serious in my commenting has been with Kasie, although I think my ramblings with Mike isn't too far off from a serious tone (megalomaniac talk can be serious, really).

Over the weekend, I was wondering if I could make my computer a national landmark. It should be declared the porn repository of the world. It currently hold more than several lifetime's worth of man-on-man action and self-love practitioners. Sometimes I'm shocked that some individuals have never even seen porn, because it's so inevitably pervasive and omnipotent (as opposed to "impotent") online. As such, the study of gay porn can show you that our tastes have shifted since the 90's...in my opinion, it's rather symbolic of the shame brought on by metrosexualism. I thought "straight trade" would eventually die out as growing acceptance of queerness becomes a reality, but somehow we're still in this trend of finding straight men alluring...basically they're coming over to the dark side when you see them wanking off or getting fluffed by the director or similarly "straight" scene partner.

My conversation with Brian got me thinking when I also strolled across a certain Florida-based website (ahemm...fairly obvious to the porn enthusiast) and they had an interesting way of describing their models. First off, let me tell you that all penile measurements on the Internet are a lie...the ruler isn't worth the wood or plastic it's made of. Porn makers are particularly deceptive when they throw out those measurements, especially on picture-oriented sites. However, I noticed that this website actually bothered to give you realistic dick sizes...heh, a major "blow" to all the size queens out there. Even though a 6-incher might not even make to the sites before getting an enlargement to eight or nine inches, I was pleasantly surprised to see this website actually tell you if they were six or even five inches. In the end, the guy is hot because the entire package...not just the dongle. Lying about the size just makes it more disappointing for the rest of the world and the self-esteem of...oh 65% of the gay population. Oh delightful..

Shamrock your world

I don't know why or how, but I've discovered that I often radiate good luck for people around me. It's not just something that happened yesterday that drew me to this conclusion, but a series of fortunate events convinced me I'm true to my psuedo-Irish heritage. Heh, no, I didn't get adopted by the leprechaun from Lucky Charms...I'm the luckiest baby to be on March 17th. Anyways, a friend of mine had the best luck yesterday after going out to the city...he's probably going to be a great deal better in the job search in one day than I've done in the last several months. I'm not jealous...I'm kind of happy for him. However, I always get skeptical about luck...but I guess folks shouldn't complain as long as it's good luck.

On my own hunt, I'm starting to feel unmotivated to continue further. Even though I've built a lot of hope for my last great interview, I think I just need to find some time and do what I want to do. Frankly, that's writing. I would love to become a "professional" writer. I want some time to travel off to some place to isolate myself from familiarity and then write. Being here, I often am so distracted by everything...it's incredibly hard to write when you can't focus in. Furthermore, I'm so exhausted by the lack of original topics to write...you can't get more redundant than with American society. There's definitely no sense of joie de vivre in this conformist society. By that, I mean the lack of surprises that make reality seem more pop-out. Instead, everything just feels so scripted.

Also yesterday, my father gave me a call on some advice on a criminal justice matter. Yeah, I guess he felt that I was the most appropriate counsel on a matter concerning possible aerial terrorism. However, he totally misunderstood my training and proceeded to ask me all these questions about mental states and psyche. Unfortunately, he's confused my studies with psychology...ahemm...quite disappointing. Beneath it all, I guess I can get the hint that my own father is trying to drag me into his world of corporate greed and black market insider-ness. You wonder why I so often talk to Mike about villainy...well, I guess I sometimes think my dad is evil for his heartless business ethics. If I were to inherit his empire, I'd topple it all for some humanitarianism...Jeebus knows that we're in need of some in those countries with all the starving children.

[Something] with wolves..

I guess I'll provide more details about that cute little dancer boy that I mentioned yesterday. The name of this spunky Vietnamese boy from Dallas, TX is Christopher Vo. I don't think it'd be too much of an invasion of privacy that I mention his name, since it was mentioned both on television and on several websites. When I first saw him on that PBS program, I was thinking, "Dang, he's cute, but he's Asian...they're not going to focus on him." Heh, you got to be skeptical that they'll ever go indepth with the Asian students...since we're all such dang overachievers...gwahaha!

Of course, they then proceeded to do individual student biographies, where they also featured a Taiwanese girl from Flushing. Heh, I eventually saw Christopher tell his story about his decision to become a professional dancer and how his mother felt about his aspirations. His dream was to go to Julliard in New York City, which was the reason why he's participating in the Presidential Scholars program (heh, most of them get into Julliard).

Anyways, he did this solo performance about a soldier who was fighting in the Vietnam War. I'm impressed that he was so willing to integrate his family's culture and history for the theme of his performance. Unfortunately, he wasn't wearing any skimpy, skin-tight outfit, so there's no juicy pictures for all you rice queens out there. Heh, I wouldn't say I'm too obsessive, but you got to admit that a cute and talented guy like this one would make anyone happy (currently his biggest fan is his mother). In case you're wondering, no, he's not on Downelink. Maybe someone should invite him, heh..

By the way, you might think I'm making too assumptions about the fact that he's gay (or not), but let's just say I wouldn't be surprised to see him strolling down Chelsea or hanging out at the Big Cup. Aww, he's so adorable.

Crash

Hmm...I thought it was pretty obvious that there was something wrong with the pictures on my Xanga last night. The official explanation from Yafro is a system crash that corrupted nearly all the picture files that have been uploaded in the last month and a half. Ahemm...that basically means the entire summer's worth of pictures have been lost. The administrators (who happen to be Asian) promised to send the corrupted drives to a data recovery service, but I doubt that they'll actually go through with bringing all that data back, especially since Yafro is a free service. I was considering that I could reupload all the pictures from the last few weeks, but, on second thought, let's just move on..

Meanwhile, I've suffered an injury last night that basically makes typing a miserable experience. No, I didn't break any body parts. I got bitten by a mosquito last night. Heh, you might be thinking that I'm such a cry-baby for complaining about that, but I just so happen to severely allergic to insect bites. It's nothing life-threatening, but my wrist is basically all red and swollen for a few days. Of course, it's in the worst possible place...my left hand feels like it's being squeezed by a boa constrictor. Unlike most folks, I don't scratch....I've actually applied some ointments that's suppose to reduce swelling. Meh, manly men don't scratch...gwahaha..

On a totally unrelated topic, I happen to find this enormously cute Asian boy prancing away on television. I'll probably talk more about him tomorrow, but I can tell you that he was so adorable. He was being featured on this PBS documentary about the Presidential Scholars program. I was initially thinking that they wouldn't highlight any of the Asian students...heh, they were, for the most part, silent until they went off into the individual stories. Of course, I was kind of surprised that there was an Asian dancer being considered...heh, I was even more surprised when it turned out to be an Asian guy. Heh...gay or straight? Hmm...I'll have to do some more digging before I can tell you that.

Bang bang, you're dead.

You got to admit...there's a finite number of perspectives that one can take on politics. Heh, that's no cynicism...it's the reality that we can only spin one truth in so many different ways. Philosophically, we're all aiming at one goal...that endpoint where we achieve and receive what we were all searching for. Granted, your conception of the perfect ending or solution might differ from the person sitting next to you, but I guess Plato would agree that it's the chase for a truth, which makes society (and civilization) function. Despite all that, of course, we can still get conflict and people disagreeing upon where we're all going and even whether we've achieved that goal in the end. It's quite dismaying when those people you've held hands with suddenly disagree with you about the journey and that there's more to done.

Sorry if this all sounds so existential to you, but the primary jewel of that whole dialogue is about ambition. Some have big ones...others have small ones. Heh, unlike the size of your penis, it's not something that's ordained or predetermined. Moreover, you can certainly have external forces, which change the size of your ambition...much to the dismay of the penis-enlarging crowd (for in which universe can ambition really be a bigger penis?). If you think big, then what happens when you fall short of achieving that goal? Easy to answer, but what about the flip side? What if you aim big and you reach your endpoint? We might hate ourselves for aiming so low or maybe even despise how unfulfilling that endpoint can be.

Suddenly, it's become apparent to everyone that we've politicized our moments and our feelings to the point where they become so attached to the chase and not the goal. Well, you might be thinking that the fun is in the chase and not the goal. Heh, yeah...a hollow victory for those who feel that they won and devastation for those who empty their pockets for that one cause. Gee, where am I going about all of this? Ahemm, I'm just trying to think about what to say about the state of political affairs at dinner tonight. I should be glad that our table is a congress of thoughts...despite the abundance of ignorance and profiteering that goes on in my circle.

Freedom trail

I don't know why I'm getting antsy about this one job interview, especially considering how I've done these more times than I can count. Maybe it's because of the attractiveness of the whole deal...a project with a limited duration and nice pay and benefits. However, I'm just feeling stressed by the fact that I might be placing all my eggs in this one basket...it might be a major blow to my ego if they end up choosing someone else. Even though I would like to act non-chalant about this position, I got to admit they've piqued my interest with little bits of information that they've given me about the funding and all that. As always, I'm always up for a challenge, particularly if it meant I could retain a wide range of authority and decision-making power.

Lately, I've been thinking that gay society as a (w)hole wishes that I wasn't Asian. If it was true, I wouldn't be as special as many folks would describe me as. Heh, it's amusing to think that older people think that I'm an up and coming star in the biz, but I'm one of those old fixtures that have never been taken out. Even with this position, I'm anticipating that my race will be both advantageous and disadvantageous to my chances of getting the job. In most cases, I have to admit that I do get preferential treatment as an Asian working in a predominantly white arena. However, the fact that I'm Asian usually hurts me as they don't feel I can bond with clients...whom for the most part are not Asian. I don't need to tell you how often it's tokenization, but right now, I think I'll settle for it if it means that I can get a high-ranking position. Gee, Mike and I should be super villains.

On a similar note, guys look at me and often times mistaken me for anything other than Asian. Heh, pretty impossible, right? However, the sleazebags I know usually have trouble picking me out of a line-up...heh, what kind of line-up? Well...figure it out yourself.

It's a South Park world.

You might have seen the trailer for this new movie produced by same guys who give Comedy Central four foul-mouthed kids from a sleepy town in Colorado. Team America, which I believe would make a great parody of idiotic gung-ho warmongerism, is another product of that infamous South Park duo. As you can see, they have no problem in making fun of Asians through their casting of a certain Korean authoritarian as their main villain in the movie. Even though I'm probably the first to decry their depiction as blatantly racist, you can never criticize Stone and Parker, since they claim to be equal opportunity offenders (except the Latinos haven't been given as much airtime).

Of course, everyone knows how they love to talk about penis size, which was immortalized in that South Park parody of Pokemon. Even though most viewers would only grab the laughs from the crack on "small Asian penises", I think the reverse joke would be how Americans (by that, I do mean Americans and not simply white) usually have overvalued the size of their penises...actually, we like everything huge here...boobs, cars, missiles, houses. This stereotype of the Asian teenie weenie might be one enjoyed by the racists who hate us, but I've always enjoyed the rebuttle that China's massive population probably demonstrates enough of our virility to keep all blank-shooters' mouths shut.

Sigh...don't count your chicks before they've hatched.

Tant pis!

Last night's torrential downpour made me remember what a friend told me about the rain. Well, it was actually about thunder and how its rumble causes him to become exciting (a.k.a. aroused). I personally found that a bit eccentric, but somehow I found a connection with that sentiment when I heard the loud raindrops hammering on the ground. When I actually think about it, it's very sexy and erotic to be out there in the rain and making love (ahemm, not heavy sex yet). What can be more satisfying than exploring each other's exterior with that natural shower of water soaking you through?

It's a delicate fantasy, but I can see how sensual it could be to tongue wrestling in rainwater. When your clothes basically turns see-through, it couldn't be any closer to being naked (other than just taking off your clothes). Certainly, people with a fear of pneumonia would probably find this little scene a bit too risky, but I guess you got to diversify your settings for sexual gratification. Heh, I know...you're probably thinking that this is more suited for a teen movie, but I guess we'll never know until you give it a try. Maybe the string of hurricanes is Mother Nature's attempt at giving love-lorn guys a last chance at a summer fling. Ready to swoon yet?

Spit you out

I went through the interview without much trouble. I ended up being late by five minutes, but I'm sure he didn't notice since it seems as if I arrived precisely before he came out of the door to the waiting room. The program seemed pretty interesting and it was going to be brand new...which means that the offered position is going to be brand new too. However, I was a bit skeptical about the lack of uncertainty around some of the logistics and program details. I guess it'll improve once they hammer out their agreements between their agency and the contractor.

Personally, I felt that I did a pretty good job at relaying some of my experience and knowledge around the position. I swear that I would be a dead fit for it since my last position was exactly the same, except the target population. I think I also had a rapport with the interviewer, who will be the supervising staff person for their end of the contract. Heh, I didn't overly express my knowledge about Asians and Pacific Islander community issues, even though I'm sure that's what makes me an attractive candidate. Heh, I'll save more of that for the second round of interview (provided that I made it that far).

In the meanwhile, I'm not sure if I should pay attention to this, but I happen to see that they reposted the position on the job website that I regularly check. If I remember correctly, the position was taken off, or at least I thought it was. Hmm...I should be getting shaky that they might not have liked the candidates they've interviewed this week and decided to repost. Well, I should be optimistic that I'll at least be offered a second round interview next week and I'll certainly pull out everything in my bag of tricks. Of course, some nudging from some friends of mine might help grease the wheels a bit...heh, I'm not adverse to that, especially since I found out the salary median was $34K...wahoo!

Eat you up

If there's anything that can be said for the Internet, it must be the fact that you can be your own private investigator. Countless television shows have already shown us that it's easy to find personal and private information about people...enough to make any stalker-fearing individual from keeping too long of a paper trail. There's probably some information that you never even know existed...a quick Google of yourself can track down that information. Court documents are also now accessible on the web and you might find that one time plead-out assault and battery can come back to haunt you. In case you were wondering, I couldn't find anything about myself that's new (ahemm...not that I would want to).

Tomorrow's going to be a tumultuous day, since it'll be the first interview that I'll be going through. I'm anticipating some more callbacks since the program year has started and directors need to fill in those positions in order to deliver services. My only dilemma seems to be how I'm going to style my hair in lieu of my butchered hair after that appointment on Monday. Heh, it's not exactly butchered as it's a hairdo that so gosh darn resembles my brother. Hence, never go to a person who also cuts the hair of someone in your family...follicular transferrance can occur spontaneously.

As for the interview, I'm hoping to make a good impression since this is only the first round of interview...the real stuff goes in the second group interview. I'll be sneaky and try and see how much competition that I'm up against. In the meanwhile, I could always butter up some networking buddies and see if they can get in a few good words for me. I'm not overly desperate for the position, but I wouldn't mind working there in the short term (by that, a year or two). At least, it'll guarantee me some financial stability and maybe some moola to save up for nursing school (gwahaha, just throwing that around). Gosh, I need to reassert my stranglehood in the city...ahemm, I mean reestablish connections in the community. I guess I've been conspiring with Mike too much.

Cogent frisk

I guess it's not premature to let you know that I'm in the process of writing a long piece on interracial relationships. There's no guarantee that it'll become a book, but I'm aiming to make this one fill out a volume or two. Where do I get the time to write a book? Heh, I do it on the train...it's actually pretty relaxing to write on the train and I feel the most focused. Wha?? Yeah, I feel so focused and clear-headed while trying to drown out the commuter traffic that I can easily write a few pages between Downtown and home. So far, I've written around eight pages in two days...which is a pretty good pace.

Of course, you need to actually know what a train ride is like in Boston for you to understand how and why I write inside a moving train. Like New York City, the train system here is a necessity for everyone who can't find a parking space inside the city. As a result, you get a diverse mix of riders who live inside and outside of Boston. There's the occasional hottie that you can spy on while writing or reading, but for the most part, it's a long ride to the end.

With my purchase of the latest issue of Giant Robot, I happened to find a nice quote from an article about film director, Christopher Doyle:

I don't know why, but lately white people's starting to get it. Gee, now you can bite my head off, David.

Moldy

Nothing happened today.

I had more interesting stuff happen yesterday with my hair appointment. I'm starting to feel like a zombie with this rather lazy schedule that I'm keeping. I wish that there was more that I could do, but I won't make myself depressed over this ugly job hunt...it's a slow process and I won't try and stress myself out. Of course, that's probably the reason why I haven't really gotten any solid leads. Besides that, my mother hasn't really been pressuring me to immediately find a job...she's still trying to convince me to go onto graduate school.

On a similar note, I've been thinking about whether or not I feel like moving out anymore. Previously, I was thinking that it's a necessity in order to maintain my sanity, but the attractiveness of the whole deal is becoming less and less apparent when I think about it. For the most part, it's the consideration of having good roommates. I'm not much for living by myself or having an absent roommate (of which I could have been accused of when I previously moved out). Now, I'm perhaps less inclined to say that I absolutely need gay roommates, but I think I'll stick to my policy of having only male roommates. While there's no reason to move out beyond my selfish reasons, I guess it's a must-have process in order to declare my independence. However, let's not forget that it's not a cheap process. Ahemm...you can only get so far with a pretty face, heh..

L'enfer

It's hell to always deal with racism in real life, so why do most Asians and Pacific Islanders need to face it when they're online. You'd imagine that horny guys with no chance of finding guys offline wouldn't be so picky on what guys they get to boink, but apparently beggars can be choosers. I happen to catch a thread on Dudesnude about sexual racism. Unlike the previous ones that I've chimed in on, this thread was actually started by a white guy. Wha?? Yeah, you heard it correctly...a white guy wrote this:

In one day, there were almost twenty responses to the post made by Blondmuscl. Of course, you had one or two ignorant guys (all white) who jumped into the thread with their usual line about "preferences". Luckily, there's been more support from the Dudesnude community around this whole issue...more and more white guys are starting to denounce the hateful words of the ignorant few. Of course, I'm very impressed by the level and complexity of the discussion...these guys don't just have a pretty face (ahemm...in addition to other things), they also got a whole lot on their mind.

Downe to [E]arth?

While attending a community event tonight, I had a scintillating conversation about being down to earth. Gee, that awful cliche phrase always miffs me whenever I hear it. I'm sure it started off as a big descriptor, but now it's become so banal that I can't stand it when people use it to describe their dream date. Anyways, I told my seatmates that down-to-earth is simply another buzzword for doormat. While they were gasping in offense, I just gave them my brand of wisdom on why Asian and Pacific Islander guys should stop being that virtual doormat in the attempts to appear "down to earth".

Our obsession with this phrase should end and we should use more accurate words, e.g. humble. Our attraction to down-to-earth guys seem to sprout from our desires to never be outshined by anyone else. Heh, you've got to have some ego to desire someone who'd be less in the spotlight than yourself. Or maybe it has something to do with the fact that being gay means that you can't be proud, loud, and...gay. When I fear people utter that phrase, that is usually the connotation...they want a quiet, reserved pet who's a doormat.

A clever cousin of down-to-earth is laid-back. When you use the two phrases in tandem, it's easy to see how they can essentially mean doormat. The pursuit for guys with either traits usually connotes passiveness (ahemm, but not necessarily submissiveness) on the part of the seeker. Of course, down-to-earth people aren't bad...so don't get me wrong by thinking I hate those people. However, I think we need to apply a bit more dynamic of a term to describe the guys that we fawn over....cliches only make you sound like the broken record that all sighing single people play every weekend.

At the end of the conversation, I'm sure they got the lingo. My intuition was that the two guys at the table liked each other and they wouldn't get anywhere if they followed the whole down-to-earth routine. Luckily, one of them asked the other for his number...hooray! I guess old dogs can learn new tricks. However, the situation just reminded me about how powerful language is...and how dating ultimately tries to dumb down everything so that we all can be "down to earth" enough to find each other attractive. Sighh..

This is the story..

Even though there's a buzz for this year's Real World , I'm sure it's quite a tactical ploy for them to cast two gay guys in one season. As Phillip says, they're probably thinking we're all drooling for the two of them to fuck like bunnies under the glow of the nightvision cameras. If life really was like a reality show, then I think we'd all like to be thrust into a living situation with incredibly pretentious people and screw them all in six months. If I were to spin this corporate product into my own brand of socially responsible sexiness, I'd cast my Asian crew and have them bitch about how unfair life is. Gee, somehow I guess that wouldn't be of much interest here in the United States.

However, I'd think there really would be a market for an all-Asian webcam house. Remember those? Even though the popularity of such sites seem to have waned to reruns on cam feeds, it's somewhat more interesting to see how gay Asian men will be like in a webcam la-la-land. There's always that vicarious and voyeuristic peeping and the eager waiting for the under-the-cover-but-over-it action. Heh, if it was me, you'd never had any trouble finding me touching my peepee in some fashion or another during the day.

A money-maker? Probably not if you end up selling the rights to a television network. If I had to be innovative, I'd market them as rentals like the way Chinese videotapes are done. Heh, yeah, teenagers (and most likely Asians) will be quick to bootleg them, but isn't that the real plan for spreading the show like a bad venereal disease? Honestly, who expects to really make money by doing a homemade reality show...which, in fact, is just another word for documentary. Heh, I'm too devious for this world.

On a platter

I happen to purchase the latest issue of ReadyMade Magazine today at Borders. It's one of two publications that I'm still reading, despite my lack of income (the other being Giant Robot.) I've also gone retro by using my CD player...I guess I liked the whole tactile feeling of pressing the buttons as opposed to my hard and clunky MP3 player. Coincidentally, the latest issue of ReadyMade featured the theme of music, which included several projects with recycled speakers and personalized I-pod holders.

On my train ride back home, I got on with this cute boy, who looked like he was a high school student. Heh, yeah, that's young. He looked like he was Southeast Asian and had a dark skin tone. Style-wise, he dressed almost exactly like me...we were both fashionably-inept people. He got in first and took a seat and I took the seat right next to him. At the time, I was more interested in reading my magazine and I had my CD player on maximum volume to drown out the commuter traffic. While reading, I noticed that he kept looking over...I didn't know if he was curious about my magazine, or my music (Japanese music mix) or me. He was fiddling with some flashcards (hence the high school query) and he ended up listening to his own music.

I didn't really turn over and look at him, but I saw him turning over to me from the corner of my eye. Heh, no, it's not one of cruising situations...but it's somewhat of an ego trip to have someone check you out. If I was crazy enough, I could have gotten off the train at the same stop, even though it's three stops too early from my stop. However, I'm not going to stalk a high school student...that'll just be too weird. Sometimes you wish that you could just snap a picture of every guy you see...maybe a hidden camera in my cap or something...that way, I'll get to review all the fine male specimen that I encounter on my occasional trips to the city. Gwahaha!

Even though I'm suppose to be looking diligently for a job, there has been some professional areas that I've left alone. It's not that I don't appreciate or respect them as a suitable profession as they just aren't a fit for me. Of course, I could probably fantasize about how nice it would be in a particular job...the perks being more apparent than the downsides. Here are three jobs that sound great, but in the end, they just aren't me:

Policeman: Believe it or not, I have the utmost respect for law enforcement, despite all the social inequities often dramatized in the media. I'm sure it has something to do with me being Chinese and the conformist and respectable profession of a police officer makes for an attractive career. Heh, I won't lie to you about the instant power that one gets from being able to carry a firearm...I'm actually not against guns at all. This deranged interest in law enforcement probably also has to do with the peachy depiction on Law & Order. I'm more partial to being a detective than a patrol officer, but those uniforms are dang sexy.

Lawyer: This might be the other half of my Law & Order infatuation. Unlike Kasie, I probably don't have the patience to go through law school. I took a few criminal law courses back when I went to a private university and I didn't have any trouble with case law and all that jazz. However, I'm somewhat anti-establishment and court time always made me feel uncomfortabe, especially those awful suits that counsels need to wear. That whole button-off while sitting and button-up when cross-examining gives me predictive arthitis. If I were to pick a branch of the law, I'd probably choose Kasie's route and become a public defender, since I believe that our justice system already has way too many indigent offenders and not enough lawyers to help them.

Nurse: This is actually a career path that I would like to take up for a few years. I have no inclination to become a doctor, but I think nursing might be a good alternative in post-graduate education. By nature, I like helping people and what better profession is there for that? While I can't get past the tasks of cleaning out bed pans and sponge bathing, I think there's a sense of nobility in helping people feel better while they're hospitalized. Look out, because I might actually do this in order to stand out in a crowd of yuppies with their Masters in Public Health.

Super powerful taunt attack!

Moral superiority...that seems to be the theme of life. We're all struggling to be the top nun in a convent full of double-faced posers. Heh, that's not cynicism..it's just an observation. This certainly relates to the Pope's recent condemnation of gay marriage, but that's old news. However, I think moral superiority has recently been replaced by physical superiority...who needs morals and ethics when you got arms that can bust nuts (pun intended). There's the movement toward bulking up...the "I want to look like him", as opposed to "I want to look good" feeling. Therefore, you don't have to be an angel nowadays, because beautiful people have different standards.

So, we know that there's an elite among Asians and Pacific Islanders...those physical qualities that makes them top dogs in the "dating" scene. Not to bash anyone who may possess these qualities, but it's tragically humorous on how easily we can fetishize anything about a person's body. For example, height...an important detail that we all like to know. The Asian shorties should know that we lose in this department, even if we come in at 5'7" or 5'8". The taller folks can eagerly enjoy their status as giants (a la Yao Ming). Another qualities that can be construed equally as an advantage or disadvantage (or attractive versus not) would be facial and body hair. Asians and Pacific Islanders with body hair? The trolls must be squeaming with disgust over the prickly scruff on our faces or the fact that we might not be oh-so-smooth up there as opposed to down there.

As long as guys don't go overboard with their advantages, I don't think there's much to worry about. Heh, it's not too appealing to tell guys that you can grow whiskers or that you can shop in the big and tall section. Of course, it's up to the guys who buy into stuff like that. I guess this really comes down to the fact that we sometimes try too hard in making ourselves look sexy, which sometimes causes us to be the dumbest things. Heh, have you ever wondered why some men want to have beards? Dang, those things are so impractical and seemingly unsanitary. Gee, vanity, I presume? Meh, the good angel might be saying, "Let them be." Okay, I'll let that one go for now.

Insanity, Part 93,456

I hate to continue my rant on the lack of reality on "reality" shows, but I've observed that the industry is only one indvidiual among a whole host of culprits responsible for the craze. Specifically, I'm referring to the stars in those reality shows...they don't go away, no matter how many season finales there are. MTV's notorious for milking it as long as it can go by bringing past stars in spinoffs and crossover shows. These regular people believe that they've transcended the role as an observor of stardom to celebrity status. After watching a recent MTV preview of the latest season of Real World in Philadelphia, there was finally some vindication for us normal people after past stars were poking fun at the hyped-up glamour and beauty of Real World participants in recent years. Gee, don't we all love one-dimensional characters?

Back in the real world, I was watching the History Channel's The History of Sex. Heh, it's actually a repeat for me, since I've seen the entire series before. However, it got me thinking about marriage customs, particularly in the face of gay marriage. Being Chinese, I'm just wondering how traditions and practices change as a result of inclusion of same-sex couples. In many cultures, distinctions between bride and groom are a huge part of the wedding process, especially in Chinese culture. I think it would be nice to do an ethnographic study on gay couples looking to follow their own ethnic and cultural practices. Doctoral thesis, anyone?

Conspi-racy

Remember that parable about the villagers who drank the water from a well and all became insane? I was brushing my teeth today and I ended up thinking about the whole moral of the story again. Even though I'd like to consider myself mentally and emotional well-adjusted, I just don't know if I'm the oddball in this rather maladjusted society. Don't get me wrong...I sometimes feel sad and disappointment, but it never gets to the point where I can feel so despondent as to claim persecution by the world. However, it seems as if so many people have so many problems that maybe it's me who's a freak...I should have more problems...or at least I should be more bothered by them. In any case, as much as I'd like to claim that I'm normal and well-adjusted, I think I'm the one who's out of place in this dysfunctional community of individuals.

I've been reconsidering my place on Downelink. Maybe it's the whole pretense of the terminology, but you got to let people identify the way they're comfortable with. There's this undeniable contradiction among many guys who identify as downe, which is the pretentious assertion of masculinity. If you've ever been on Downelink, you'll notice that more than half of those guys do all the classic thing commonly associated with non-masculine traits. Ahemm, does primping your eyebrows or decking yourself out make you more or less masculine than your drag queen sisters? Guys want to gain acceptance for who they are, e.g. non-heterosexual, but they inevitably end up perpetrating some of the same bigotry as their straight counterparts. Here's a good example of Downelink's pretentious butterflies:

As much as there is a desire to gain acceptance, some gay men are just as able to throw around their internalized homophobia and heterosexism as anyone else. I'm perplexed by how femme-phobia can be seen as acceptable. Look at what Johnny said...you can see how he contradicts himself. Of course, I'm sure this guy can claim to be "masculine" and all, but I'm sure homophobes aren't too picky when it comes to gay-bashing. This is perhaps why I sometimes feel so abnormal...this internalized homophobia (and racism) feels so foreign to me. Gee, howzabout a drink of water?

Hypno-crisy

I made a not-so-clever observation about the rap music industry. After watching a music video on BET, I noticed how fugly male rappers are. Of course, it's juxtaposed by the bosomy beauties often found in those same types of music videos. It's definitely an inequity and sexism at its worst, but I guess that says a great deal about differences in the standards of beauty between black men and women. I honestly can't think of many black artists who have bodies that are as well-trimmed as compared to female artists...well with the exception of maybe Usher or L.L. Cool J. It's obvious who they're appealing to...most definitely not the male audience (ahemm..most of them anyways).

Again, there's been another shooting here in Boston. There's been a pattern of murders during the summer...all victims being black young men and women, most under the age of 25. The mayor, Tom Menino, has been part of the effort to curb some of the violence, but he implicates the natural silence of the neighborhood communities for the lack of progress being made by the police. I wouldn't want to scapegoat pop culture, but I'd think a good explanation for some of this violence is the resurgence of guns as weapons of choice. The gun-buy-back programs in Boston were highly successful in getting many firearms off the streets. However, now they're back and they're affecting the community that's been most afflicted by the rampages of pop culture.

Sighh...quite sad.

Chocolate salty balls

I seem to have made a discovery today. I remember watching the end of MTV's I Want a Famous Face program, where they featured these two WASP-y twins hoping to remake themselves to look like Brad Pitt. I saw the result and it was so clear that there's no resemblance to Brad Pitt at all. Of course, the real piece of news is that there's a porn duo who goes by the name of Dayle and Doyle, both blond-haired twins. Hmm...coincidence? Unfortunately, I can't corroborate it, but it just so happens that one of them also have an alias, Brad Wilson. Heh, they both seem kind of plastic, but I guess twink-lovers should be delighted.

On a non-porn issue, I've been giving career counseling to Mike about his future profession. My current suggestion is super villainy...not just regular villainy, such as poisoning people with cigarettes or drilling for oil in Alaska. I'm talking about super villainy, such as constructing secret bases in volcanoes or on the moon. Of course, he's got to induct me in his council of super villains...now what would be my gimmick? Heh, I'll probably have a harem of steroidally pumped henchmen who go around sodomizing people. Gee, I guess I should start recruiting in the Castro