Article 1 of the French Constitution, "French shall be an indivisible, secular, democratic and social Republic. It shall ensure the equality of all citizens before the law, without distinction of origin, race or religion. It shall respect all beliefs. It shall be organised on a decentralised basis."

True, French is a secular state alright--provided that it ensures equality without distinction of religion. There's a reason religion is mentioned in the same breath as origin and race--because it is recognized to be something inherent from birth. One does not choose to be Muslim any more than another chooses to be black on Wednesday and from Kurdistan on Saturdays. This is a direct response to your "if you want to be Muslim, do it in the privacy of your own home" line of argument. So, I'll be Muslim at home, and not Muslim at schools? And let's not fool ourselves that the ban affects all religions equally--there's a reason why no Jews or Catholics are protesting on the streets. Face it, Arab/Muslim/MiddleEast bashing is in, hording WMD is out--and let's not forget that politicians are trend chasers in the worst way. I'll bet on the side that this is 85% a vote-getting ploy of the wiley Frenchman.

From what I can read, the French Constitution (and the 1789 declaration of the Rights of Man which is quoted in the Preamble) upholds the same principles of equality, freedom, and liberty that U.S. holds so dear and brandishes around the world without impunity. Since we are all much more familiar with the U.S. constitution, I think it is safe to say that such an egregious transgression in the U.S. constitutional standard shouldn't be able to fly in France either, with or without fois gras.

Another thread of your argument that I picked up goes as follows (my paraphrase), "If you want to enjoy the many benefits afforded by your French citizenship, then act like a good French and assimilate without your head scarf or go do it in your own country." Needless to say that nothing in the French constitution says anything about protecting the integrity of French culture. Just because you have escargot does not make it indispensible. Furthermore, this sort of nationalism, provincialism is nothing more than a thinly disguised racialism. This sort of thing is precisely why Middle Easterners hate Westerners because Western values driven by Western currencies are polluting their not nearly inadequate Muslim states, and everything that is fucked up in the Middle East can in some way or another be blamed on U.S. and Europe. Hey, even the Taliban probably wouldn't have flurished without not-so-secret U.S. funding. Not that it justifies the terrorism, but when you run out of socially acceptable outlets to fight back, naturally you go for his crotch, or bite his ear.

Plus I take personal offense to this "assimilate or go back to your own country" bullshit.

Taps has been in Europe for too long

I still cannot believe that Jon thinks the French has a right to ban religious headgear in public schools. Actually, he believes more than just that, that the French are JUSTIFIED to do so.

Jon says, if you live in the country, use its language, and enjoy the economic advantages provided by the country, than you should respect the customs of that country. Is being French equivalent to being not Muslim?

Here's the first article to the French consitution:
"France shall be an indivisible, secular, democratic and social Republic. It shall ensure the equality of all citizens before the law, without distinction of origin, race or religion. It shall respect all beliefs. It shall be organised on a decentralised basis."

There does not seem to be another way of interpreting the above statement so that "secular" is emphasized over "equality without distinction of religion."

"You have cat eyes."
"What do you mean?"
"The way you look at me, curious from a distance, sort of reminds me of cats."
"Then what are your eyes?"
"Lately I think they started to resemble dolphin eyes."
"Why, because they're smiley all the time?"
"Only half right. Because they're smiley and accomodating around people, so that they get pats and hugs on their back instead of harpoons. But around their own kind, underwater, that's when their eyes come to life."
"Cats don't swim."
"That's too bad, because I've always wanted a cat."

Just returned home from Blockbuster, returning FFX2

Just as I was about to start chapter 5, I realized that I wasn't about to get the mascot dress spheres. That really took me out of the game and started thinking about how I was playing it...my heart just wasn't there. I was doing it all wrong--in more ways than one, since I wasn't about to get the mascot dress spheres, fuck.

The story of FFX2 is, how should I put it, stunk with month old moldy cheese. I just don't buy the whole Yuna as a Britney rip-off thing. All the missions in this game just seem pointless to me (ironic, there's a status effect called just that, pointless as it prevents you from earning experience from battles) without all the Final Fantasy trademarked apocalyptic melodrama. Maybe this has to do with Square becoming Square Enix? I mean why else would they thwart decade-long tradition of stand-alone FF universes? All those reviews calling the mood "upbeat" were, in my opinion, sales-friendly euphemisms. It's upbeat in a too-old for Mickey Mouse club sort of way.

The gameplay though was good. I like the dress sphere system, it really plays well and is especially appealling to obsessive micro-managers like me. It's pleasant to fuss about the party line-up, equipment and the dress grid to get the most out of your party in battles. I am especially proud of the way my party has evolved into the powerful and versatile group that they ended up being at lvl 38 and 58% completion. I have 2 strong black mages, one white mage, 3 capable fighters and one sonstress that is on the verge of being ridiculously powerful. Imaging what they can do if given more time and adding the mascot dress sphere? Imaging having a berserker with counter!? God did I do the wrong thing by not finishing it, not obsessing about it and returning it?

Which brings me to my next point. I was so obsessed about it I didn't even realize that this pointless obsession, as fun as it is while it lasted, has to end sometime, and by then you're not going to be any better off (especially not with the way I'm playing it, over-analyzing battle line-ups and constant save and reloads; I'm playing it as a system and not as a game and definitely, through no faults of my own mind you, not as a story). Upon discovering the fact that mascot DS has eluded me, it dawned on me that this whole FFX2 binge was just that, a binge, a target of obsession so that I have something to look forward to when I wake up. I don't know which is more pathetic, not having anything to wake up for, or finding something to obsess so that I have something to wake up for.

Although to be fair, something positive did come out of this week-long binge. A week is really not that bad, it could be worse than the ~50 hours that I have already invested. And I did eventually stop it on my own will (no need to pat my own back, thank you). It also served as a nice transition, a weening period from weed, alcohol, masturbation, a good prep period for the meditation retreat to be sure. And everyone needs a binge period every once in a while. I think after last time I binged in FFX at Jon's studio, I ended up writing the thesis, so who knows what good might come after this one?

Gee, my last post was Saturday?

Something happened Saturday/Sunday night (I couldn't remember which was which, which is all the same nowadays) that changed the patteren of my day-to-day activities. No it's not that.

I rented Final Fantasy X2. End of story. You know as well as I do how all that micro-managing customization of black mages and warriors can brighten/dim my otherwise un-noteworthy activities.

What's your game?

Frankly to call the way I play basketball my "game" is probably stretching it. The way I ball is just that, no more and no less. I see myself as a jack-of-all-trades kind of player. If the team I play on are full of bangers, then I will make myself available for some outside jumpers and make the entry pass; if there are too many wannabe penetrators and jump-shooters (which is most often the case, dubbed the I wanna be like Mike effect), then I'll bang inside, box-out, and set body-slamming screens; if I play with a passer, then I'll move without the ball; if it's a well-balanced/out-of-my-league kind of game, I've got no qualms with being a facillitator, moving the ball around on the perimeter and hunt for my catches.

I can be a shorter, less athletic Elton Brand. I can also be a Marbury with less handle and speed. I can be a Stoko with no stroke, a Kobe with half of his first-step.

However, since I'm undeniably 5'8", I will have to become a better perimeter player. Improve my 3-pt shot from a triple-threat position will definitely help in that respect. One caught-off-guard dribble and you've got a 15-foot jumper or, if the lane presents itself, a layup. I will also have to improve my ball-handling, so that I will have the ability to always be in a triple-threat position. Wouldn't that be nice: regardless of where I am on the court, in which hand I have the ball, I will always have the ability to go left or right, pull-up, one-dribble and pull up, two dribbles and pull up, pass to any spot, or just take it to the house.

So, today is the day when everything will be depleted. When all is consumed, all there is left is emptiness. Indeed, it is precisely emptiness that you seek in life, the proverbial "meaning of life," since to live=to consume. So why not skip all that, rather than seeking emptiness through consumption and daily toils, find a way to search for it directly, discover a straighter path, or even better, find a path that folds the 3-dimension space itself, and indeed even escape the 3rd, 4th, 5th, .....all together, scrap all that, wipe it out, and find the source of nirvana?

Through meditation? Through stoned meditation? Through Vappasana meditation? Through through the that shaky jiggly piano rythm? through shower in the morning after working out? through typing with cold fingers as if the fingers are falling off from frostbite? through dead hand? oh my god my hand is not my own? it's saying things? what's it saying?

nothing.

was that a holy moment? I think I just had a glimpse of god him/her/it/themselves. I lost the moment just as I got lost admiring the previous sentence. That was good stuff. Definitely good stuff.

I'm hesitant to type more, occupying "precious" digital space with my mental masturbation. But since occasionally it gets better than real ones.

I didn't want this to happen, but it has to sometime. You can't go back and erase that now, that'll be just another piece of mental makeup you've covered yourself so thick and pasty with. You keep searching for that next step of dismantling it all and bring it down. Sort of, in a very real way, the collapse of Berlin wall!? Just let it out, you've been contracted and withdrawn for too long. and exhale. let it all out. breath, and suck in another 10^12 O2 molecules and make them mine, make them pieces of me, make them pieces of pieces of me, 10^12 pieces to be exact. hold them in my custody for a while and put them through torture, slap them around a bit so that they bump into each other, into others, into others that don't exactly resembling anything they know. Imagine the terror!? Jesus!they'd scream and find themselves attached, like the worse half of the siamese twin, to this hideous, gigantatronicalizationally-challenged monstrocity! They then go through clocks and wheels with 10^13 spokes, one nanosecand at a time, and when it comes full circle,

And them you make them pieces of shit and flush it down the drain.

Imagine the relief. That pleasant whoosh, they'd call it. Some call it nirvana.
----
damn that was good stuff. Confidence-building practice session. This time you go for a reach and you made it look easy. Make it look good and not even blink an eye before taking your next shot. Your eyes are enlarging, pupils dialating, sucking in and lining up the next shot. You know he's watching. What are you gonna do, miss the next one and let me at the table? he thinks, or he would think, would have thought, would've had thoughten?
that's about right folks, that's about right.

how about a story with a detailed description of each and every single shot? Maybe, oh, no, this is a better idea. do it also possibly as a metaphor as losing virginity. Yes, a hidden, meaningful personal metaphor. disguised with your favorite game.

2:00pm, Thursday
You sit in the couch flipping through channels with hardly a trace of earnesty, and you come across ESPN2, a match for $50,000 between The Magician and Bustamante. And you get the urge, the almost but not quite under the bridge kind.

You go to Kelly Mcues, and you bring your cue with you. because you saw Bustamante's left hand shot and you go to practice yours. and someone comes along, plays you games and you play along, with your left. then he brings bets onto the table and you keep using your left. then he brings the kicker, the big hustlin' number. little did he know that you're just about to pull the biggest hustle there is, back onto him.

not believable. no way someone who has a servicable off-hand would be a virgin to big money games. But try to think of another metaphor though.

Come to think of it, having a lefty shot is a huge weapon playing against another. It's a challenge not to use the bridge, even if not accepted you can still make it apparent that you'ce gained an edge in the mental match: "Oh, you're gonna use the bridge? (option) I'm gonna use the bridge too then." But then again, you can't really fake a good lefty in the eyes of even just a halfway average player.

Comes full circle, don't it. Back to pool, back to yesterday's topic of discussion, musings on pool or something like that. Your life is like a skipped record, that keeps repeating the same 10 seconds over and over again at 60bpm. Comes full circle, don't it.

Musings about pool:

One of the lessons the game of pool taught me is how to become a good fatalist/determinist. Of course one can get into serious academic debate about that label, but (since I'm not 100% in tune with my Phil 80 teachings) I'm going to use that term simply to describe the attitude on things outside of your personal control, things cannot be changed by will alone, things that are simply matters of fate.

I am not a big subscriber of the American dream, of manifest destiny. Is the human will an all-powerful force? Is your lot enitrely the result of your past actions and choices? Obviously not, at least not on the pool table. Terms shooters refer to such as rolls, dead rails, fast felt, dirty/chipped balls, tigh pockets, dead stroke, The Pool God all carry an aura of mysticism, of luck and chaos beyond one's control. I will venture to state that all pool players, more or less, carry an superstitious attitude. There's a lot of gray area, co-governed by fate and will, between what you want to do on a table and what actually happens.

However, the game of pool is also a craft that can be practiced and perfected (to the best of one's abilities, not literal perfection). And the direct result of increased proficiency in pool is the decreasing of that very gray area. A superior pool player naturally has a smaller discrepancy between execution and results than an inferior player. Better players can account for gray elements other than shotmaking such as speed and english and table lay, and to some extant even to the psychology of their opponents. As your skill progress, the gray area narrows....but never completely disappears. And that's why I love the game of pool. It is an ongoing battle of will and fate, but with a healthy dose of respect for the inevitability of fate.

Quotes from The Diamond Age:

"Their hard shoes were treacherous on the cobblestones, their chins were in the air so that their high white collars would not saw their heads off. They had arisen many hours ago in their tiny high-rise warrens, their human coin lockers on the island south of New Chusan, which was Hindustani."

"What are letters?"
"Kinda like mediaglyphics except they're all black, and they're tiny, they don't move, they're old and boring and really hard to read. But you can use 'em to make short words for long words."

Idea for a story:

A child's psychological self-experiment gone awry: survival of the fittest, but in a human society where the fittest is ill-defined, who then do you compete for suvival? I know, I'll just compete against myself.

Somehow the kid becomes a psychopath.

Played 8-ball with Gus (w/ the mustache) today. I've played one-pocket with him before, seen him kid around 9-ball games, but only today did I realize how good Gus truely is.

His game is solid. Tight stroke, not spectacular, but he knows exactly what he'll get out of it on every shot, even on those lefty shots. He had a few jaw-dropping shots (my jaws), but he's not the best shotmaker I've ever seen. But he plays the table wonderfully and gets perfect speed almost every time. I tried to keep a tight table with clusters, and I'm sure it's by no accident that he mostly picked the harder group. Every shot for him serves multiple purposes: potting balls, positioning, cluster-breaking, pocket-blocking. He let a couple of them slide and took it easy on me, but I'm not sure if he knew that I knew he was tanking it to keep me focused. One one shot, he played a distance safety when I knew he could have hooked me (it was maybe a 70% makeable shot, I made it without getting shape). It was truly humbling, a bit frustrating, but I know I took advantage of the few bones he tossed my way and made those runs count. At least I can say that the couple of games I won were some of the better games I've played.

I must have a chat with him next time about improving my game.

Mom mentioned in passing today that she's going to book the tickets back to Taiwan for 1/7.

I thought: "Shit, how am I going to get out of this one?"

My initial reaction did not surprise me in the least, considering how conscious I am about myself being a unemployed, live-at-home nobody. Being an unemployed live-at-home nobody in Taipei and facing inquiries from families and friends about it do not sound like the best ways to spend my Chinese New Year. The prospect of receiving red envelope money at an age when I ought to give out red envelopes doesn't sound like fun either.

So, I enrolled in 12 units of Saddleback classes, which will give me something to do until I hopefully fly to Japan in June.

Tentative plan for now: Vapassana retreat, Saddleback, meanwhile study for GRE and take it sometime in January. Get in touch with Agnieszka and Krista (am I still allowed to mention ex-profs by their first names?) and discuss grad school. Hopefully I will be able to put together an application in time for September. Hopefully.

Not blogginng the past couple of days...okay, past triple of days...has made me realize what drew me to blogging in the first place.

To live day-to-day with enough thinking and doing to have something blog-worthy a the end of the day.

Since I didn't do a whole lot (Thur: basketball games at Marks; Fri: played some pool; Sat: Wooden Classic at the pond--where Stanford upsent yet another #1 seed Kansas) in the past triple of days, there weren't a whole lot to blog about obviously. This needs to change.

Something has to be done, one day at a time. You know what that is so start doing it today.

Scripted from NBA Fastbreak:

Tim Legler: (watching tape) During the early stretches in the 4th quarter, Tim Duncan did not get the ball on 3 consecutive possessions and the Spurs failed to capitalize on Shaq being on the bench with 4 fouls and the chance to go up 13 on the Lakers.

Kevin Frasier: (unsure) But Karl Malone has been playing great defense in the previous 2 games.

Greg Anthony: (with straight yet restrained poker face) Yes Karl Malone will always give you 100% on the court. During that stretch Horace Grant was on the floor who isn't nearly the same defensive presence as Karl.

Kevin Frasier: to add insult to injury, the Spurs...

Some white guy = Tim Legler

Some white guy: Lakers know if they're not gotta beat them this game, they never will (in the playoffs)
Greg Anthony: More importantly (wink wink), the (ahem) Spurs know that if they don't beat them (the Lakers), they never will (oh yeah, check out this freestyle) repeat as NBA champions.

Battlin, MCs, Sports commentary. Case closed.

Oh yeah. This is sweet. Blogging, Lakers/Spurs, stoned, Duke/MichSt. Yeaaahhhhh.
I'm going to take a major copyright risk and test an idea here.

During the beginning of the second half of Dk/MiSt game, the play-by-play commentator made a comment about how michigan state's center ought to play more fluidly, react to the game, and maybe get angry a little bit. Dick Vitale one-upped him, "You gotta play to your nature, some people are introverted and some people are extroverted and you just have to be yourself and play like yourself." And I thought, damn, commentators are just like the game of (name your own sport) that they commentate on, battling each other in the off-court contest of wits and tongue.

Aren't they just like
all the MCs
battlin' and droppin'
beats and rhymn's
soul and taste em'?
On the life stage of the straight chillin'
ah shit lost it. in'

So here's an idea for sports entertainment. How about instead of two white guys talking about 10 black guys, have two black guys, no, two flowing brotha's (or even better, sista's) represent fans on each side, researching all the stats and the stories of the game just like the commentators today, and just freestyle against each other?

You can market this "product" easily. Say get a copy of old games and just find two rappers who like sports, which I'm sure it's not hard to find given all the retro jerseys I see, and lay down the track and sell'em? I should get a Creative Common on this one.

-------

4 and a half to go, let's try some literal, typewrittin' game commentary. How many blocks does Shaq have? God, it must feel pretty shitty to be Nesterovic right now when your man is just swattin' the shots of just about every single one of your teammates. ut still La is only up by 81, this is a pretty close game. Momentum shifts, change that, the momentum is floating about and both teams are tryin' to change that and thake possession of it, rip it down like an out of key rebound. That's the difference between the NBA game and the college game. Once a team gets even a double digit lead it is impossible to come back, momentum is strong once you grasp it, you have less pressure to make every single shot...unless you have the Laker/Duke defense. Duke 59 MSU 36 with 6.5 to go. God they're good when they can take their time. Sure Kryswivky (I'm guessing that the Duke coach'll must've had lots of trouble making people remember the spelling of his name) The Lakers can't score though. this is a must score situation....but they do know how to get to the freethrow line. Kobe is learnin' it now from Karl, instead of taking it to the rack. God I never seen Kobe headfake so much in his vain attempt against Bowen to draw a jump shot foul....Bowen is smart, he fell for that one just 2 possessions ago and he's learnin' fast. SportsWriters don't give enough credit for the smarts of some of these NBA players.

I've lost steam, even the most stubborn of all run-on sentences has a way of doing that.

Holy shit, Shaq has 9 blocks. Literally (I had no idea earlier, but he really did, no just seem to, reject every Single Spur...replays of blocks were only shown on the Spur starting lineup). Lakers up 4, with 13.5 seconds to go, the game is, unlike college basketball, in the fridge and the egg is gettin hard and the jellow is jigglin. Well, college is got that short 3-point line, speaking of which Charlotte just made a big 3 down 1 against Alabama, on the big play replay. I love college basketball season. But even with that college 3-point line MichSt still can't overcome a 22 point lead--that's how good Duke's defense is. Okay, that's a wrap.

Maybe I should treat this bloggin' a bit less like mental masturbation. But then again, what isn't when you're stoned?

Talked on the phone with Mark about my JET app. I dunno, wasn't very helpful, picked out a few typos and awkward sentences but didn't find the closure I needed. Fuck.

Pop!

Here's a ingenius idea! What if I put my app in this blog and and maybe someone will comment on it!? (putting this idea on screen was probably only 10 seconds off the idea coming into existence in the first place; 10 seconds off real time ought to be an acceptible blog tape delay)

Here's the thing. JET stands for Japan Exchange and Teaching, a program for people to go teach English (or whatever comes out of your mouth most often) in Japan. ALT stnads for Assistant Language Teacher, the position within JET that I'm applying for. The application is due 12/5, that's this Friday. The application itself has to arrive at the Japanese Embassy in DC on Friday so I would have to FedEx it out overnight by tomorrow, ideally. I need someone other than myself to read it and comment on it. So here it is, my best imitation of Brian Henderson of 1215 Maple Lane. Yeah, Wow. (for future reference: this is a reference of that Budlight commercial; note to self: you watch too much TV)

Here are the directions for the essay:
· 2 pages 2x spaced, type name and page number (1 of 2) on bottom
· why JET: why Japan, why ALT
· describe past/present experience, professional skills, relevant interests and personal qualities.
· What you hope to gain personally and professionally
· What effect you hope to have on the international and Japanese community

And here's the essay itself to be critiqued, hopefully by you:

I was born in Taiwan and raised in a three-generation nuclear family. My grandmother lived in post Japan-occupation Taiwan and enforced her anti-Japanese sentiment by forbidding us from eating sushi and refusing to ride in my father’s first Honda. Perhaps my curiosity towards Japan initially took hold as the forbidden fruit in the eyes of my grandmother’s xenophobia. Ironically, it may have played a part driving me to become a gaijin in Japan.

I am fascinated by the fact that so little is known about Japan in the West. The entire world knows about samurai and Hondas, but somehow the Japanese people still remain inscrutable to the eyes of Europeans and Americans. It is remarkable how much of the old habits of Orientalism are still with us as we think of Japan by how they are different from the West. I wish to come to Japan not to understand these stereotyped Japanese institutions, but to find and meet and live in the Japan that is populated with ordinary people with ordinary desires.

Drawing from my limited and indirect knowledge of Japanese culture (gleaned from Japanese pop culture and journalists/historians such as Patrick Smith), I understand the Japanese as a culture with polarizing values: institution vs. individual, tradition vs. progress, Oriental vs. the West. It seems to me that today the Japanese struggles to find ways to assert itself as nihonjin in an increasingly global, liberal, and perhaps Americanized world. This kind of cultural identity crisis is something with which I identify strongly, having grown up in Taiwan but come of age in America. I believe that in order to understand and be conscious of my cultural identity (or the lack thereof) and to become a better world citizen, “the Japanese” and I have many things to learn from each other.

Capsule philosophies aside, my background and experiences have prepared me well as a JET ALT. I have been on both sides of ESL programs: as a student when I first arrived in U.S., and later as a tutor to other similarly situated bilingual students. I have also designed and taught (as part of a 10-person team) an undergraduate laboratory course in a classroom setting of 10-12 students. I understand first-hand the challenges of teaching and learning the English language and I am familiar and comfortable with managing the classroom environment—both of which should prove valuable assets for any assistant language teacher. In addition, having worked as a legal assistant after college, I am confident that the communication skills I have honed from working with attorneys will translate positively to my work assisting Japanese English teachers as an ALT.

The JET experience will also benefit me professionally. Considering my plan to attend a graduate program in philosophy upon the completion of JET program, my academic career would undoubtedly profit from the teaching and public speaking experiences that the ALT position offers. Additionally, I hope to use my time in Japan to explore the culture of Zen Buddhism, since (I’ve been told that) philosophy PhD candidates with background in Eastern religion/philosophy are hot commodities in the competitive academic market right now.

Drawing from my background and experiences, I know I could bring a unique blend of skill and perspective to the JET program. I am excited for the opportunity to discover how I can best apply my background and skills. I thank you in advance for your time and consideration.
.......
If you've gotten this far, then my prayer has been answered. Email me (I am not completely proficient with posting email/hyperlinks on my blog yet) at thejeffcho@yahoo.com

So, this is blogging eh?

Just finishing up the JET application, 2 days before deadline. I guess this habit of perfectionist/procrastinator will never die in me. Somehow work never seem to assume its finished form until right up in the ass crack of deadline. I've forgotten how much fun this is, just me, caffeine, hyper fingers, unfinished run-on sentences and the backspace key.

By the way, shot 10/37 from 3-pt today. I love the newly discovered Eastwing court.