Wednesday, November 28, 2007

I sit alone in this office. Surrounded by people that I can not relate to. I can't even speak to them without becoming annoyed. Where did you just say you came from? The Liberry? Are you fucking serious? The Liberry? They say things like, "You know I think that when daylight savings takes effect it should start getting brighter earlier." I just moan and angrily mutter to myself, yeah that's kinda the whole fucking point of daylight savings.

They sit at their desks, the perfect examples of uselessness. They speak in error ridden sentences with ghetto accents. Bills becomes beels, I don't have any, becomes I aint got none. Ask becomes axe. My headache becomes larger. There should be an office language, that is different than your I'm at home chillin with the folk language.

Plate tectonics

It was a small ripple thirty years ago. A small ripple, that lead to a small crack and with time this crack and this ripple turned into a rumble and a crevice. The two halves being shaken apart, the seams breaking and the clasping of the formerly conjoined joints, began to dissipate. The ripple that was constantly there, starting from a small point and spreading out farther and farther until it enveloped the entire area. There was no escaping it, no ignoring the shimmering of the once calm ground, the tremors and the small bouncing boulders made it clear that while you can learn to tolerate such a ripple, in the end it becomes to much to bear.

The way that you have to delicately carry the plates when a larger one hits, the bracing of the table so the glasses don't shatter on the ground. Inhabiting such a place is a hassle, a hassle that some endure but not forever. I can understand why one would leave such a place but at the same time it's hard to let it go. This place that saw so many things despite it's rocky foundation. There was once happiness in such a place, a sense of calm derived from routine. Overlooking the imperfections, hoping one day the place would stabilize itself. Of course it never happens like this, you would have to knock down and rebuild from scratch. So most people would rather just walk away. Maybe not rather walk away like a clean cut abandonment, but a forced exodus, a feeling of I can't handle this anymore, this place is not safe, and it is not safe for me.

There were several attempts to stabilize the problem, but they always failed. The foundation would be stable for a couple months until the small tremors would start again, barely noticeable vibrations, the rocks kind of shaking back and forth, hopping ever so slightly. Signs that things were going to back to the way they were before. People were hired to try and halt the problem, save the place from falling apart, crumbling into shambles. They tried talking to it, reasoning, making it realize what exactly it was doing. Places like this don't listen though. You can talk at it all day and it will still do what it does. It can't do anything else than what it does. It's natural for it to behave so. They tried though and maybe some of it worked, but always for short spurts. Short spurts that made the place livable for thirty years. Which isn't that bad if you think about it.

But then if you do think about it you have to wonder about how many of those years were happy. How many were spent frustrated, cursing the tremors, knowing that they were slowly taking the place apart. Shuttered up in a sinking ship, a slowly disintegrating hovel. It must not have been that bad for them to have stayed though. I'm sure if it was much worse they would have left sooner. They never seemed that attached to it anyway. Not attached enough to put up with anything that horrible. Maybe it was just complacency, an acceptance of this as normal. The same steps in the same place everyday, the routine of stabilization. The charade of stabilization. It was more than that though, certain chains and ties that locked them to that place. Commitments and reasons that were too logical. Not based enough on do I want to live here, more having to do with we have to live here for now.

The non acknowledgment perhaps hoping it would just solve itself and when this doesn't work the confrontation of the problem and all that that entails. Blaming the place for coming apart, giving it ultimatums that you know it can never hold up. It's in it's nature to defy the choices laid out in front of it. It's like asking a bear to not be a bear. You can't say to it, transform yourself into something more desirable or I will leave you. It would look at you and say but I have been a bear so long this is all I know. I like being a bear, I feel like it is my lot in life to be a bear. Because though it may appear that this problem is a choice that is being made, it is apparent that it is not. It is something that is.

But even this is a cop out, because though it may be natural it is also a choice. It's a convoluted mess a twisted tangling web of rationalizations and contradictions. The bear thing must be wrong, it is more like asking a bear not to act like a bear. Not to change itself to an unatural thing but to change it's actions into something it is not used to. But the thing about the tremors that is different is that there is a cure. A cure that is a long process, a painful process, something that you have to want to do, be committed to. I guess a bear could be committed to such a thing if it knew it's actions would cause its life and the lives of other to be better. But it's not an easy thing, it's not a simple agreement that is made, it is a whole relandscaping of its life, a new phase and direction it must be willing to go for. The tremors refused to accept this choice, they didn't see it as a choice. They stood defiant saying this is who I am and what I do. I will continue to shake and you will either chose to stay or leave. With that the ultimatiums were flipped and they decided that they might as well move on. It wasn't an easy desicion but they figured that it was their only choice. It was sad for them to leave the place that they had loved, to watch it shake itself apart, withering away slowly, the walls falling upon themselves, the dust in the air.

No, Where are yooou from?

I was watching, "Last Comic Standing" last night. Not something I usually do, but they shut down our planned oil wrestling match, something about that's not appropriate for a high school basketball half time show. Whatever, they just don't get our art. So since that didn't go down I was home by myself all lathered up and bored and was flipping through some channels. I just wanted to share one asian guy's joke from last night, "It's hard being Chinese...because I am Japanese." I liked it, I laughed, I could be biased seeing as how I think anything an Asian says is funny. They say things like, put me down, how did you get in my house, are you wearing my robe? I just can't help but snicker at them. They're funny I tell ya. So yeah I liked the joke, I didn't like the end of his routine because he busted out the fake asian accent. Not really a fan of that one, I only use it in extreme circumstances. Usually when supermodels ask me out, I just act like I don't speak english and they leave me alone, so I can get back to benchpressing cars and juggling three chainsaws with one hand.

I busy, so sowy ladee, me no speakee english. Just typing that sentence made me feel dirty. I know what you're saying, it wasn't the sentence that made you feel dirty but the fact that you fell asleep on the couch lathered up in oil and your 12 cats shed everywhere. That is the reason you feel dirty. While you m'lady are wrong!!! I have fallen alseep plenty of times and woken up covered in cat hair without feeling as bad as I do about that last sentence. It's just I don't like resorting to that kind of humor. I don't know if you know this, but my humor comes from a highly sophisticated place, it is what I would call high brow humor. It should be enjoyed whilst sipping tea, one pinky in the air. Laughs should not be heard but light clapping and an occasional bravo can be muttered. A bravo and a good show sir. That's the type of crowd that gets my humor. No need to resort to racial stereotypes or phallic props for laughs. So if you don't have a monocole, you are not a Duke, Duchess, or any member of parliment I refuse to dumb down for you. You can use a dictionary or thesarus to look up the larger words but when you have to explain a joke it's just not funny. You stupid peasants can't even read anyway right?

So, yeah don't like the asian accent, not gonna go there for the laugh. Especially when people assume you have an accent anyway. Seriously, I have had people compliment my english. I turned around looked at them, flipped my queue over my shoulder set down my rickshaw and was like, excuse me? People are funny. There is a theory taught in Asian American studies, called the "Perputal Foreigner." It's not really a theory but a stereotype. It basically means that because of the way that asians look, people automatically assume that they are foreigners. Noone expects that you were born and raised in America. This can be countered or slighty altered by dress style, hair style, wrapping yourself in a gigantic American flag and siging the national anthem at all times, but in reality people will still probably assume you just got off the boat. Granted it won't be everyone, it's mostly the old people who assume such things, you know the kinda that had milk jugs delivered to their doors and have seen wars with asian countries, but the perception still exists. In truth there isn't much one can do, unlike a white person, asians can never truly become integrated into the mainstream white society based on their looks alone. Despite growing up sharing the same culture, the appearnce of an Asian will never be the preconcieved notion of an american. Eastern Europeans who may have arrived last year would be less likely to be questioned about where their country of origin is.

The conversations usually go something like this,
"Where are you from?"
"Well I was born in Seattle but I moved to this area a couple of years ago."
"Oh where are your parents from?"
"Chico."
"Oh where are your grandparents from?"
"Chico." I know what they are getting at but it's fun to drag it out.
"Oh I mean what are you?"
Now how could you not play with this question, isn't this just a question for the ages? I am so many things my friend, I am a dancer, a lover, a world class butter sculptor. If you really want to annoy them you just say American and never budge from that stance. I usually give it up though, after they start shaking their head and the blood vessels start to tweak on their forehead. I look them straight in the eye and tell them, "I am 1/4 Blue blooded gator, 1/4 Doberman, and 3/4 homo erectus." I usually giggle after I say erectus, before I say it again kind of fading off into my thoughts, erectus hee hee...

Now this isn't even really an insulting question for me. Maybe it should be but I don't mind, my math doesn't even add up for my answer anyway so I effectivley debunk two stereotypes at once. But it just seems kind of a strange thing to ask. I don't go up to white people and say, so what are you? No, no, I mean what ARE you? German? English? Irish? My ancestors probably got here before yours but somehow I am made to be the one who is the foreigner. I know it doesn't seem like it's that bad, it is actually just showing some interest right? Most people who ask that probably know that I was born here anyway. It's not really an issue with these questions, it does make one feel singled out or like you are being seperated from everyone else, but it's not meant to be in a bad way, at least I don't think so. The english one is waay waaay worse. Oh and another thing, I don't even get how white is a category. You aren't white, I mean you are but you have a country of origin, and it's not America. Somehow that fades though, you don't feel the need to ever progress past American or white. You probably would if pressed but it is expected that American not be my first answer. I listen to Lynard Skinner just like you buddy, I drink moonshine, sure I eat more rice than potatoes but that doesn't mean that I am less american. Shit, I burn crosses, and dress up in bedsheets, we can be friends. Ok at some point I had a point, might have lost it. Something about perpetual foreigner, assumptions about speaking english and the fact that people of any ethnicity that is not white is more prone to identify with their culture because of the fact that they are forced to recognize their differences in relation to the majority and mainstream white society that they inhabit within the united states. Something like that, maybe if I come back to this later it will be more clear and I can add stuff to it, or not whatever.

Edit: I TAKE BACK EVERYTHING I SAID. Apparently I am way off and so are my old professors. Maybe the times are changing. I was watching the news last night and there was a story about some guy that walked into a pet shelter or a pet sitting place and said he was a dog's owner. The shelter or whatever it was gave him the dog which as it turned out was not really his. So what shattered my world and made me have to come back on here and dismiss everything that I had said like a couple days earlier was the description of the guy. They said that he was either a white or Asian male. Whaaaaat?? They couldn't tell the difference? The people at the place talked to the dude as he gave them information about the puppy and convinced them it was his. Maybe he was happa? They showed stills of him captured from the security camera and he looked Asian to me. So we do have the ability to blend in? Mistaken for white? Crazy, maybe the perpetual foreigner is fading as asians become more and more populous in the states. Or maybe the witnesses were retarded. Either way, one of three things just happened, either an asian was mistaken for white, a white guy was mistaken for an asian or a happa was just split down the center. The world is changing it will not be long till we are all color blind and one big happy family. Probably not but whatever...