evidence of barack's genuine-ness
from his 2008 presidential victory speech (my favorite part):
And to all those watching tonight from beyond our shores, from parliaments and palaces to those who are huddled around radios in the forgotten corners of the world - our stories are singular, but our destiny is shared, and a new dawn of American leadership is at hand.
To those who would tear the world down - we will defeat you. To those who seek peace and security - we support you.
And to all those who have wondered if America's beacon still burns as bright - tonight we proved once more that the true strength of our nation comes not from the might of our arms or the scale of our wealth, but from the enduring power of our ideals: democracy, liberty, opportunity and unyielding hope.
For that is the true genius of America - that America can change. Our union can be perfected. And what we have already achieved gives us hope for what we can and must achieve tomorrow.
from his keynote address at the 2004 democratic national convention:
Tonight, we gather to affirm the greatness of our Nation -- not because of the height of our skyscrapers, or the power of our military, or the size of our economy. Our pride is based on a very simple premise, summed up in a declaration made over two hundred years ago:
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.
That is the true genius of America, a faith -- a faith in simple dreams, an insistence on small miracles; that we can tuck in our children at night and know that they are fed and clothed and safe from harm; that we can say what we think, write what we think, without hearing a sudden knock on the door; that we can have an idea and start our own business without paying a bribe; that we can participate in the political process without fear of retribution, and that our votes will be counted -- at least most of the time.
i never did watch his famous 2004 speech. only caught bits. i finally watched it tonight and i cried. i don't know why that surprises me.
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
my favorite part of barack obama's first speech as the 44th president of the united states:
And to all those watching tonight from beyond our shores, from parliaments and palaces to those who are huddled around radios in the forgotten corners of the world - our stories are singular, but our destiny is shared, and a new dawn of American leadership is at hand.
To those who would tear the world down - we will defeat you. To those who seek peace and security - we support you.
And to all those who have wondered if America's beacon still burns as bright - tonight we proved once more that the true strength of our nation comes not from the might of our arms or the scale of our wealth, but from the enduring power of our ideals: democracy, liberty, opportunity and unyielding hope.
For that is the true genius of America - that America can change. Our union can be perfected. And what we have already achieved gives us hope for what we can and must achieve tomorrow.
may God continue to bless this man and his journey.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
THE DEVIL IN THE WHITE CITY
too distracted by words i don't know. overwhelmed with the vagaries of players fascinating but whose characters are underdeveloped and sometimes irrelevant. much too much about the minutiae of architecture that erode curiosity and penchant for learning.
supposedly the plot gets interesting but i couldn't get past all of the above.
i learned a lot. but forgot as much.
one thing that did stick was the brilliant solution to chicago's damp earth that enabled the inception of the skyscraper. steel frames. dope.
a friend gave me pillars of the earth last christmas. it might be one of only a couple of books in my study that i haven't started reading. um, that's not gonna happen right now.
so hello, wall. we meet again. might i mention that your concrete skin is harshly frigid to the touch?
update: 1/26/09
FINALLY, i finished this book. pages 30ish to 150ish were tough to get through. i think because there was a point where all of these characters were introduced and the plot was at a standstill. i picked up the book again last week and was relieved that the story picked up too. i was disgusted and offended to read about that killer, but then i was just in shock when i remembered that stuff really happens. the interweaving of the various influential players of that era was amazing, and amazing to discover. and i do credit the author for being able to pull off an entertaining read, albeit after a slow start.
too distracted by words i don't know. overwhelmed with the vagaries of players fascinating but whose characters are underdeveloped and sometimes irrelevant. much too much about the minutiae of architecture that erode curiosity and penchant for learning.
supposedly the plot gets interesting but i couldn't get past all of the above.
i learned a lot. but forgot as much.
one thing that did stick was the brilliant solution to chicago's damp earth that enabled the inception of the skyscraper. steel frames. dope.
a friend gave me pillars of the earth last christmas. it might be one of only a couple of books in my study that i haven't started reading. um, that's not gonna happen right now.
so hello, wall. we meet again. might i mention that your concrete skin is harshly frigid to the touch?
update: 1/26/09
FINALLY, i finished this book. pages 30ish to 150ish were tough to get through. i think because there was a point where all of these characters were introduced and the plot was at a standstill. i picked up the book again last week and was relieved that the story picked up too. i was disgusted and offended to read about that killer, but then i was just in shock when i remembered that stuff really happens. the interweaving of the various influential players of that era was amazing, and amazing to discover. and i do credit the author for being able to pull off an entertaining read, albeit after a slow start.
Monday, August 11, 2008
THE VANISHING ACT OF ESME LENNOX
oh maggie.
i can understand why this book sells. the cliff-hanger ending.
however, i firmly believe that this book fits the criteria for the 'fine garbage' that my neighborhood trash dudes proudly collect and carry away.
but even the ending is arguably trashy. i'll just have to get over the embarrassing fact that it actually drew me in a tad - the way days of our lives, another world, and santa barbara used to. the great trifecta of the operatic soaps of old.
now, let's get down to the grit:
1) cut the length to a third. this could've been a short story. srsly.
2) rearrange the narratives for goodness's sake! i was so underwhelmed by the middle 80% of this book, i didn't even bother trying to determine in how many 'persons' it was written. a much better approach would've been to spend alternating chapters in these various voices, if the writer really wanted to play up the dementia praecox symbolism.
3) the chunk of the story dedicated to the family's time in india was a complete disappointment. i've read many a tale where that country was so successfully romanticized. this leads to my final criticism (cuz i'm getting a headache).
4) one of the very first things i noticed was the irritating blandness of the writer's style. i gritted my teeth and yelped aloud, every time i encountered a pathetic attempt at onomatopoeia. puh-lease. if i never read 'mumble-mumble' or some such nonsense ever again, it would certainly be too soon.
no wonder my propensity for reading did its own vanishing act for so many weeks. well, on to a better adventure, i hope. next up, the devil in the white city.
oh maggie.
i can understand why this book sells. the cliff-hanger ending.
however, i firmly believe that this book fits the criteria for the 'fine garbage' that my neighborhood trash dudes proudly collect and carry away.
but even the ending is arguably trashy. i'll just have to get over the embarrassing fact that it actually drew me in a tad - the way days of our lives, another world, and santa barbara used to. the great trifecta of the operatic soaps of old.
now, let's get down to the grit:
1) cut the length to a third. this could've been a short story. srsly.
2) rearrange the narratives for goodness's sake! i was so underwhelmed by the middle 80% of this book, i didn't even bother trying to determine in how many 'persons' it was written. a much better approach would've been to spend alternating chapters in these various voices, if the writer really wanted to play up the dementia praecox symbolism.
3) the chunk of the story dedicated to the family's time in india was a complete disappointment. i've read many a tale where that country was so successfully romanticized. this leads to my final criticism (cuz i'm getting a headache).
4) one of the very first things i noticed was the irritating blandness of the writer's style. i gritted my teeth and yelped aloud, every time i encountered a pathetic attempt at onomatopoeia. puh-lease. if i never read 'mumble-mumble' or some such nonsense ever again, it would certainly be too soon.
no wonder my propensity for reading did its own vanishing act for so many weeks. well, on to a better adventure, i hope. next up, the devil in the white city.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
this post is not about a book. it's about an article about an admirable man. so it deserves to be noted.
it is about one of my uncle's friends who lives in nyc. i knew him when i was a little girl and met him again in september 2006 on one of my trips to the city. on a typical friday afternoon in manhattan, i stood squinting in front of the ICP's glass doors, waiting for tito bobit. he raced up the stairs with a smile. he signed me in and made it a point to chat briefly with the guard and show off his niece from chicago. i found him to be a self-deprecating, goofy guy. very filipino. and i hardly remembered him from my childhood.
anyway, i got a chance to view the ICP exhibits and visit the darkroom. i met some of the photographers, including a woman slated to embark on a teaching trip to the philippines. upon flipping on a light switch to a back room half-filled with tired, aged equipment, tito bobit began to regale me with the story of the passion of his life. yet i wasn't sure how to absorb all of it. i wasn't sure even, how much of it was true. after all, i hadn't seen him in twenty years. i'm ashamed to admit that a small part of me felt almost embarrassed because i didn't know if the taking of the equipment was, well, socially acceptable?
i didn't know enough about what he was doing, but i was curious about his desire to stay connected with the place of his birth. and i was in a bit of awe at the fact that he wished to give back to his native community in a very self-sacrificing way. this man saw so much life left in ICP's broken-lipped beakers, stale moving boxes, and bulky decade-old computers - things i personally would've considered antique or, forgive me, fit for 'goodwill', or even the garbage. i remember him saying that he wanted to bring photography to poor people. that just because people are poor, it doesn't mean they should be without art. he said something to this effect. and it occurred to me how much he sounded like what i understood a true artist to be - passion lived and breathed.
i read this article today and i was actually a bit shocked. shocked to quiet tears on a calm, suburban weekend morning. because here's a man who is broke, but happier than most in this world. broke here and now but eternally wealthy. and i find myself struck with a compulsion to sell my house, furniture and all.
Foto Baryo
By Audrey N. Carpio
(The Philippine Star)
Friday, May 30, 2008
A photograph is always invisible, it is not it that we see. — Roland Barthes
Photos of impoverishment can go either way — they can elicit feelings of pity and revulsion, the kind charities use in advertising, or they can imbue a sense of romanticism and exoticism, the kind used in travel photography and National Geographic. Both are to some degree exploitative, and they reinforce the sense of the “other.” When the photographer is part of the community, however, things are a bit different. We see the world through his or her eyes as daily life lived. When the photographer is young, and just learning how to compose and shoot, we see the world changing right in front of us.
Foto Baryo is a project that has brought photography to a riles community in Tanauan, Batangas, to the mountain province of Sagada with a disappearing indigenous culture, and to the people who live among the ruins of Tropical Palace, a hotel in Paranaque that burned down in the ‘70s. The man behind Foto Baryo is Fernando Afable, a Tanauan native who has been living in New York for the past two decades, himself toiling in the periphery of the photographic world until hard work and earned trust gave him access to equipment, from which he has come back full circle, giving access to the Filipinos without any.
Afable was always fascinated by photographs, but never got a chance to formally learn the skill as a student. He moved to the United States in 1989 and got a job as a warehouse manager for a sporting goods store, packing boxes. “I was the only employee, and I didn’t have insurance,” he says. “But I enjoyed it! It was my first time in the States.” Through a cousin, he found a weekend job as a security guard at the International Center of Photography (ICP) in New York City. “The first English I learned was, ‘Hi, hello,’ and ‘Go straight, to the left’ when people asked where the bathroom was.”
But guarding the door to the museum/school was uneventful and Afable found himself doing other chores, like changing the light bulbs and straightening the framed artwork. His superiors noticed this willingness to go above and beyond the job description and made him assistant operations manager. Working the front desk, he got to interact with the interesting and creative students who walked though the doors. But he still had not taken a single photo class. Even though he came with recommendations, priority was given to paying students, and he was denied twice.
Eventually someone in the staff asked him to come along on a community project. Afable assisted by carrying cameras and lights around Harlem, and from him learned some basic techniques. Though overqualified, he took a part-time job maintaining the darkroom of ICP, because “that’s where the action is.” He mixed chemicals and learned about different technical aspects from the various students who would drop by with equipment. Piece by piece, he earned a virtual degree, sitting in at classes and drinking in the vibrant atmosphere, which was an international mix of students and experts all passionate about photography, all convened in the center of photography in a city that was itself the cultural capital of the world.
Because of his in-depth knowledge of the building from sub-basement to top floor, Afable was promoted to darkroom manager, a post he’s held for the past 10 years. “That’s when I started collecting,” he says. Being on the cutting edge meant updating equipment every year, and ICP was throwing away a lot of stuff that Afable still saw use in. People’s discarded materials, unwanted cameras and malfunctioning parts he took in like strays, storing them in his studio apartment, nurturing them back to life in his spare time. Easels were given new arms. Enlarger sets were patched together. Expired film was revalued for its own aesthetic of decay. He would ship some of the things he fixed back to the Philippines, and naturally, he started thinking about bringing photography lessons back with them.
Collecting took on a higher purpose, and six years ago he started building the school in Tanauan, visit by visit, piece by piece. “He’s saved the world from so much waste,” says Josie Miner, a photographer from New York who came to the Philippines to teach a printing class at Foto Baryo this year. “American culture is so wasteful in an unconscionable way, and here everything is put to use until it literally disintegrates.” She adds, “Then you just throw some duct tape on it.” Afable jokes, “Typical Filipino. Ay sayang!”
This typically Filipino attitude has enabled him to grow an equipped photography school in a remote, underprivileged location, with barely any funding and on scraps salvaged from the first world. The physical structure is also comprised of wood from Afable’s demolished childhood home, making it a place already born with a history. “The darkroom will blow you away,” Miner says. “It’s like an organic and more beautiful version of the one at ICP.” Photographers who’ve visited the site can honestly say they’ve never seen anything like it.
Miner had just completed teaching a two-month-long advanced printing class, following up on the B&W photography courses the same group of students took the year before in Tanauan. Her class was based around the upcoming exhibition in CCP, and the kids had to print all their own work. “It’s been brilliant, very wonderful and rewarding,” she says of her experience. “There’s so much beautiful imagery. They photographed the same things — the same field, the same kids playing with the same goats and dogs. But they’re all very different, which is the fascinating thing about creativity, photography and subjectivity.”
Afable has spread Foto Baryo to the places he is drawn to, places he wants to photograph, places he has a deep connection with. He stresses that Foto Baryo is not just for poor kids, but for anyone who wants to learn and for those who will truly appreciate it. The program is just beginning, and he will let it develop on its own time. “It’s not about quantity, it’s not about money,” he says. “I just want to share photography, and change the way people see, the way it has changed me.” Future plans are to establish a foundation so that Foto Baryo can run throughout the year and not just when visiting photographers come in to volunteer. The goal is for continuity — in the project, in the mission, in the kids who have discovered something they love, and learned more than just a skill but a way of communicating and relating with the world around them.
When Afable presented his slideshow of Foto Baryo for the first time to his friends at ICP, the teary-eyed audience all got up and hugged him. Humble as ever, Afable joked, “Why are you crying? No one died.” But he was touched and truly honored when someone told him that he was the only one continuing the vision of ICP founder Cornell Capa, which was to keep the legacy of “Concerned Photography” alive, ensuring that humanitarian documentary work stays relevant and visible to the public eye. Afable does not make any money from this endeavor, and often returns to New York broke. But he has in his own way reached the ranks of those whom he admired, those who came to ICP to lecture as he sat in the auditorium, not as a paying student or wealthy hobbyist, but as a lifelong learner with a vision—to share with students the joy of creation, the transformative power of the camera, the light and dark magic of the craft.
* * *
Please join Fernando Afable in celebrating the opening of Foto Baryo, an exhibition of students’ work from the Tanauan, Parañaque and Sagada projects. Opening reception: June 5 at 6:30 p.m. at the CCP
it is about one of my uncle's friends who lives in nyc. i knew him when i was a little girl and met him again in september 2006 on one of my trips to the city. on a typical friday afternoon in manhattan, i stood squinting in front of the ICP's glass doors, waiting for tito bobit. he raced up the stairs with a smile. he signed me in and made it a point to chat briefly with the guard and show off his niece from chicago. i found him to be a self-deprecating, goofy guy. very filipino. and i hardly remembered him from my childhood.
anyway, i got a chance to view the ICP exhibits and visit the darkroom. i met some of the photographers, including a woman slated to embark on a teaching trip to the philippines. upon flipping on a light switch to a back room half-filled with tired, aged equipment, tito bobit began to regale me with the story of the passion of his life. yet i wasn't sure how to absorb all of it. i wasn't sure even, how much of it was true. after all, i hadn't seen him in twenty years. i'm ashamed to admit that a small part of me felt almost embarrassed because i didn't know if the taking of the equipment was, well, socially acceptable?
i didn't know enough about what he was doing, but i was curious about his desire to stay connected with the place of his birth. and i was in a bit of awe at the fact that he wished to give back to his native community in a very self-sacrificing way. this man saw so much life left in ICP's broken-lipped beakers, stale moving boxes, and bulky decade-old computers - things i personally would've considered antique or, forgive me, fit for 'goodwill', or even the garbage. i remember him saying that he wanted to bring photography to poor people. that just because people are poor, it doesn't mean they should be without art. he said something to this effect. and it occurred to me how much he sounded like what i understood a true artist to be - passion lived and breathed.
i read this article today and i was actually a bit shocked. shocked to quiet tears on a calm, suburban weekend morning. because here's a man who is broke, but happier than most in this world. broke here and now but eternally wealthy. and i find myself struck with a compulsion to sell my house, furniture and all.
Foto Baryo
By Audrey N. Carpio
(The Philippine Star)
Friday, May 30, 2008
A photograph is always invisible, it is not it that we see. — Roland Barthes
Photos of impoverishment can go either way — they can elicit feelings of pity and revulsion, the kind charities use in advertising, or they can imbue a sense of romanticism and exoticism, the kind used in travel photography and National Geographic. Both are to some degree exploitative, and they reinforce the sense of the “other.” When the photographer is part of the community, however, things are a bit different. We see the world through his or her eyes as daily life lived. When the photographer is young, and just learning how to compose and shoot, we see the world changing right in front of us.
Foto Baryo is a project that has brought photography to a riles community in Tanauan, Batangas, to the mountain province of Sagada with a disappearing indigenous culture, and to the people who live among the ruins of Tropical Palace, a hotel in Paranaque that burned down in the ‘70s. The man behind Foto Baryo is Fernando Afable, a Tanauan native who has been living in New York for the past two decades, himself toiling in the periphery of the photographic world until hard work and earned trust gave him access to equipment, from which he has come back full circle, giving access to the Filipinos without any.
Afable was always fascinated by photographs, but never got a chance to formally learn the skill as a student. He moved to the United States in 1989 and got a job as a warehouse manager for a sporting goods store, packing boxes. “I was the only employee, and I didn’t have insurance,” he says. “But I enjoyed it! It was my first time in the States.” Through a cousin, he found a weekend job as a security guard at the International Center of Photography (ICP) in New York City. “The first English I learned was, ‘Hi, hello,’ and ‘Go straight, to the left’ when people asked where the bathroom was.”
But guarding the door to the museum/school was uneventful and Afable found himself doing other chores, like changing the light bulbs and straightening the framed artwork. His superiors noticed this willingness to go above and beyond the job description and made him assistant operations manager. Working the front desk, he got to interact with the interesting and creative students who walked though the doors. But he still had not taken a single photo class. Even though he came with recommendations, priority was given to paying students, and he was denied twice.
Eventually someone in the staff asked him to come along on a community project. Afable assisted by carrying cameras and lights around Harlem, and from him learned some basic techniques. Though overqualified, he took a part-time job maintaining the darkroom of ICP, because “that’s where the action is.” He mixed chemicals and learned about different technical aspects from the various students who would drop by with equipment. Piece by piece, he earned a virtual degree, sitting in at classes and drinking in the vibrant atmosphere, which was an international mix of students and experts all passionate about photography, all convened in the center of photography in a city that was itself the cultural capital of the world.
Because of his in-depth knowledge of the building from sub-basement to top floor, Afable was promoted to darkroom manager, a post he’s held for the past 10 years. “That’s when I started collecting,” he says. Being on the cutting edge meant updating equipment every year, and ICP was throwing away a lot of stuff that Afable still saw use in. People’s discarded materials, unwanted cameras and malfunctioning parts he took in like strays, storing them in his studio apartment, nurturing them back to life in his spare time. Easels were given new arms. Enlarger sets were patched together. Expired film was revalued for its own aesthetic of decay. He would ship some of the things he fixed back to the Philippines, and naturally, he started thinking about bringing photography lessons back with them.
Collecting took on a higher purpose, and six years ago he started building the school in Tanauan, visit by visit, piece by piece. “He’s saved the world from so much waste,” says Josie Miner, a photographer from New York who came to the Philippines to teach a printing class at Foto Baryo this year. “American culture is so wasteful in an unconscionable way, and here everything is put to use until it literally disintegrates.” She adds, “Then you just throw some duct tape on it.” Afable jokes, “Typical Filipino. Ay sayang!”
This typically Filipino attitude has enabled him to grow an equipped photography school in a remote, underprivileged location, with barely any funding and on scraps salvaged from the first world. The physical structure is also comprised of wood from Afable’s demolished childhood home, making it a place already born with a history. “The darkroom will blow you away,” Miner says. “It’s like an organic and more beautiful version of the one at ICP.” Photographers who’ve visited the site can honestly say they’ve never seen anything like it.
Miner had just completed teaching a two-month-long advanced printing class, following up on the B&W photography courses the same group of students took the year before in Tanauan. Her class was based around the upcoming exhibition in CCP, and the kids had to print all their own work. “It’s been brilliant, very wonderful and rewarding,” she says of her experience. “There’s so much beautiful imagery. They photographed the same things — the same field, the same kids playing with the same goats and dogs. But they’re all very different, which is the fascinating thing about creativity, photography and subjectivity.”
Afable has spread Foto Baryo to the places he is drawn to, places he wants to photograph, places he has a deep connection with. He stresses that Foto Baryo is not just for poor kids, but for anyone who wants to learn and for those who will truly appreciate it. The program is just beginning, and he will let it develop on its own time. “It’s not about quantity, it’s not about money,” he says. “I just want to share photography, and change the way people see, the way it has changed me.” Future plans are to establish a foundation so that Foto Baryo can run throughout the year and not just when visiting photographers come in to volunteer. The goal is for continuity — in the project, in the mission, in the kids who have discovered something they love, and learned more than just a skill but a way of communicating and relating with the world around them.
When Afable presented his slideshow of Foto Baryo for the first time to his friends at ICP, the teary-eyed audience all got up and hugged him. Humble as ever, Afable joked, “Why are you crying? No one died.” But he was touched and truly honored when someone told him that he was the only one continuing the vision of ICP founder Cornell Capa, which was to keep the legacy of “Concerned Photography” alive, ensuring that humanitarian documentary work stays relevant and visible to the public eye. Afable does not make any money from this endeavor, and often returns to New York broke. But he has in his own way reached the ranks of those whom he admired, those who came to ICP to lecture as he sat in the auditorium, not as a paying student or wealthy hobbyist, but as a lifelong learner with a vision—to share with students the joy of creation, the transformative power of the camera, the light and dark magic of the craft.
* * *
Please join Fernando Afable in celebrating the opening of Foto Baryo, an exhibition of students’ work from the Tanauan, Parañaque and Sagada projects. Opening reception: June 5 at 6:30 p.m. at the CCP
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
THE WORLD IS FLAT
i knew this one would be a heavy read so i was looking forward to forced reading air time but i was so lacking of sleep that i drooled on the plane on the way there and head-rolled with my eyes down the back of my throat on the way back. poor flimsy canadian dude emitting a weird, toe-jam-soapy odor was stuck in the middle seat between an obnoxious, crater-faced woman and my flailing jacket sleeves (i was using my jacket as a blanket and i have this habit of sleeping completely under the covers so i can only imagine how many times my sleeves smacked him in the face). what a winning row 13 A thru C made.
suffice it to say, i'm only a few chapters in.
a few comments:
-'flat', 'flatness', 'flatter'. urrrr. overdone. overplayed. enough already. it's distracting.
-interesting the moral questions raised by the rise of developing nations and how inextricably linked those questions are to economic issues. this author suggests that people in india working in call centers shouldn't be pitied because they are being afforded opportunities they wouldn't have otherwise so they can provide for their families. it's like the sherpas. somehow it feels wrong to me. that there is a surplus of MBAs in china who have to compete for mundane jobs like widget-building. but then there's the hopeful vision of mayor xia - '...i hope one day we will be the architects.' i don't know. maybe it all works somehow.
-a coworker of mine left the company recently to start an online tutoring company based in india - a business idea that this book talks about. but my coworker's idea supposedly has a twist. i wish him success.
update: 3/10/08
it's a little embarrassing but i'm about to write an update that is so loosely connected to reading this book, but it must be documented. in fact, i'd venture to admit that it's completely against the protocol of a book review blog.
ok, so not only is this book i'm 'reading' really long and textbook-esque, i've been completely consumed with watching american idol. so i have not made any progress since my last post.
YES. i've followed the show just about all seven years of its existence, but i have of late been pretty much enthralled with this kid, jason castro. i know, he is so young! i can't decide whether i want to adopt him or marry him. for one thing, he is so talented. for another, he is so handsome. =)
on a serious note: jason castro is christian.
now you understand why i haven't read a lick since i got back from vacation.
update: 4/22/08
freeware,
open source,
community uploading,
etc
thank you berners-lee. thank you, that married couple at that university somewhere in california. thank you NCSA.
thank you for allowing me to access such enriching information in such an easy and expedient manner.
i knew this one would be a heavy read so i was looking forward to forced reading air time but i was so lacking of sleep that i drooled on the plane on the way there and head-rolled with my eyes down the back of my throat on the way back. poor flimsy canadian dude emitting a weird, toe-jam-soapy odor was stuck in the middle seat between an obnoxious, crater-faced woman and my flailing jacket sleeves (i was using my jacket as a blanket and i have this habit of sleeping completely under the covers so i can only imagine how many times my sleeves smacked him in the face). what a winning row 13 A thru C made.
suffice it to say, i'm only a few chapters in.
a few comments:
-'flat', 'flatness', 'flatter'. urrrr. overdone. overplayed. enough already. it's distracting.
-interesting the moral questions raised by the rise of developing nations and how inextricably linked those questions are to economic issues. this author suggests that people in india working in call centers shouldn't be pitied because they are being afforded opportunities they wouldn't have otherwise so they can provide for their families. it's like the sherpas. somehow it feels wrong to me. that there is a surplus of MBAs in china who have to compete for mundane jobs like widget-building. but then there's the hopeful vision of mayor xia - '...i hope one day we will be the architects.' i don't know. maybe it all works somehow.
-a coworker of mine left the company recently to start an online tutoring company based in india - a business idea that this book talks about. but my coworker's idea supposedly has a twist. i wish him success.
update: 3/10/08
it's a little embarrassing but i'm about to write an update that is so loosely connected to reading this book, but it must be documented. in fact, i'd venture to admit that it's completely against the protocol of a book review blog.
ok, so not only is this book i'm 'reading' really long and textbook-esque, i've been completely consumed with watching american idol. so i have not made any progress since my last post.
YES. i've followed the show just about all seven years of its existence, but i have of late been pretty much enthralled with this kid, jason castro. i know, he is so young! i can't decide whether i want to adopt him or marry him. for one thing, he is so talented. for another, he is so handsome. =)
on a serious note: jason castro is christian.
now you understand why i haven't read a lick since i got back from vacation.
update: 4/22/08
freeware,
open source,
community uploading,
etc
thank you berners-lee. thank you, that married couple at that university somewhere in california. thank you NCSA.
thank you for allowing me to access such enriching information in such an easy and expedient manner.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Monday, January 07, 2008
WAITING FOR GODOT
waiting for waiting for godot to get interesting. i'm just not existential or non-existential or whatever. i can't get into this kind of stuff. i know it's supposed to be revolutionary, but like kafka, conrad, etc - i just don't get the hooplah. i'm sorry. truly.
i'm halfway through this thin-ass book and i thought it'd be a great way to beef up my book count for 2007, having started this one 6 days before the new year. DOH. my genius plan has backfired.
i was wondering, why the pathetic number of books completed? and i was aghast to realize that it's because i've been on this darn computer so much. mind numbing net surfing. but OH the things we discover on the net. OH the things we discover. direct channels into the lives of others. it's actually a bit frightening.
anyway, i don't know when i'll finish reading this darn play. bah.
update: 1/18/08
i wonder if i would've figured this thing out had i not been guided by reading some brief reviews of it.
"...the whole human perplexity..." - The Times (London)
"...a comical wordplay of poetry, dreamscapes, and nonsense, which has been interpreted as a somber summation of mankind's inexhaustible search for meaning..." - Grove Press Books
so...i think i kinda get it. it's incredible, that feeling one gets when one's strength is challenged. i hardly excel in anything, and to be challenged about one of the very few things i actually believe i'm good at, well, it's disconcerting. but let me take a stab at this.
ESTRAGON = Eve
VLADIMIR = Adam
POZZO = the bad guy
LUCKY = Ignorance
A BOY = Hope
being unaware of beckett's background and beliefs, i could be way off. but somehow my bias towards Christianity leads me to a biblical interpretation of this allegory. the thieves, the cross, adam, cain, abel, the bible, God, and Christ were mentioned, so...
other (sub)semes & thymbols:
basic needs - hunger - food - the bones, the carrots, turnips, radishes - the garden - of eden - the barren landscape - the boots - the banishment - companionship - entertainment - the farting - the fighting - the awkward dancing - distraction - temptation - oppression - mental expression - mental exercise - physical exercise - spiritual exercise - spiritual needs - looking up at the sky - the hat - the void - time leaps and gaps - season changes evidenced by the unidentifiable tree of persevering life - night and day, of course
the boy calls vladimir, 'mr. albert'. why?
(is 'mr. albert' the unique name he is given, that only he knows, but he's not ready just yet?)
------------------
now, it's your turn. Go.
waiting for waiting for godot to get interesting. i'm just not existential or non-existential or whatever. i can't get into this kind of stuff. i know it's supposed to be revolutionary, but like kafka, conrad, etc - i just don't get the hooplah. i'm sorry. truly.
i'm halfway through this thin-ass book and i thought it'd be a great way to beef up my book count for 2007, having started this one 6 days before the new year. DOH. my genius plan has backfired.
i was wondering, why the pathetic number of books completed? and i was aghast to realize that it's because i've been on this darn computer so much. mind numbing net surfing. but OH the things we discover on the net. OH the things we discover. direct channels into the lives of others. it's actually a bit frightening.
anyway, i don't know when i'll finish reading this darn play. bah.
update: 1/18/08
i wonder if i would've figured this thing out had i not been guided by reading some brief reviews of it.
"...the whole human perplexity..." - The Times (London)
"...a comical wordplay of poetry, dreamscapes, and nonsense, which has been interpreted as a somber summation of mankind's inexhaustible search for meaning..." - Grove Press Books
so...i think i kinda get it. it's incredible, that feeling one gets when one's strength is challenged. i hardly excel in anything, and to be challenged about one of the very few things i actually believe i'm good at, well, it's disconcerting. but let me take a stab at this.
ESTRAGON = Eve
VLADIMIR = Adam
POZZO = the bad guy
LUCKY = Ignorance
A BOY = Hope
being unaware of beckett's background and beliefs, i could be way off. but somehow my bias towards Christianity leads me to a biblical interpretation of this allegory. the thieves, the cross, adam, cain, abel, the bible, God, and Christ were mentioned, so...
other (sub)semes & thymbols:
basic needs - hunger - food - the bones, the carrots, turnips, radishes - the garden - of eden - the barren landscape - the boots - the banishment - companionship - entertainment - the farting - the fighting - the awkward dancing - distraction - temptation - oppression - mental expression - mental exercise - physical exercise - spiritual exercise - spiritual needs - looking up at the sky - the hat - the void - time leaps and gaps - season changes evidenced by the unidentifiable tree of persevering life - night and day, of course
the boy calls vladimir, 'mr. albert'. why?
(is 'mr. albert' the unique name he is given, that only he knows, but he's not ready just yet?)
------------------
now, it's your turn. Go.
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