What Happened?

That's me, top row second from the left.

I made a little entry a few days ago about how large an effect moving from North Shore to Deer Park had on my life. I've had a bit to drink tonight and now I am fixated upon the subject once again. I am in no way a racist. I define a racist as someone who acts on their prejudices, accepting and reinforcing those prejudices through their actions. I do have prejudices. Though I don't act upon them, and detest them, they just won't go away. They have an instinctual quality to them. They present themselves in my mind in the same manner as innate knowledge, as if it is beyond logic. I have to notice these prejudices, acknowledge them and logically disprove them over and over again, but this never makes that initial urge go away. Will these unrealistic images and ideas never leave me. I wish I could control my brain and just wipe these prejudices away. I don't understand why I constantly disprove them with logic but they still stay. How can humanity go beyond what it now is if these instinctual animal thoughts still have so much power over us? How could that kid with no front teeth transform into a grown man with prejudices?

Insanely Delicious Beer!

Right this second I'm enjoying one of the better beers I've ever tasted. I tend to like beer that is dark, with noticeable "hoppiness". My usual favorites are beers like Newcastle, Old Speckled Hen, Sam Adam's Boston Ale, Sam Adam's Black Lager, and Rogue Dead Guy Ale, with the latter being my personal favorite. This Belhaven Wee Heavy tastes to me like a combination of Dead Guy and Black Lager, with a noticeable alcohol content. 6.5% ain't too shabby. At the liquor store I used to work they have a new beer that is 20% alcohol. I believe it was one of Dogfish Head's IPAs ... probably 120 minute IPA. I recommend this Belhaven, good good stuff.

*Edit: Only one bottle and I'm buzzed. I remember back when it took me half a bottle of Johnnie Walker to get a buzz. Can't say I look back fondly on those days.

I was a fucked up little kid!

This is a book I apparently made in the fifth grade. Note the bunny throwing itself in the trash/committing suicide on the cover (above)
"The whole hill is in an uproar as hearsay foretells new folks."
wtf?
"Once again the hill is in excitement as new folk come."
"Tragedy strikes when George is hit by a car."
This was the last page. Its a wonder my parents didn't have me in therapy back then. Is that a rainbow shooting out of his hand? I think it's blood actually. (Note hamster poking his head out of underwear and snake living in 'fro)

A Change

The picture above is of my little league baseball team from North Shore (In Houston, Tx)
and this was my baseball team 3 years later when I moved across the Ship Channel to Deer Park.

I lived the first eight years of my life in a mostly black and immigrant neighborhood. The people in the house to the right of me were from China. The people in the house across the street from me were from the Middle East. I never encountered racism, and had no concept of it until I moved to Deer Park, Tx in 1990. I find it horrendous that this shit-hole of a town shares the same name as the location of Buddha's enlightenment. I miss being young and colorblind.

Blue Angels Crash.

BEAUFORT, S.C. - A Navy Blue Angel jet crashed during an air show Saturday, plunging into a neighborhood of small homes and trailers and killing the pilot.

Witnesses said the planes were flying in formation during the show at the Marine Corps Air Station at about 4 p.m. and one dropped below the trees and crashed, sending up clouds of smoke.

Raymond Voegeli, a plumber, was backing out of a driveway when the plane ripped through a grove of pine trees, dousing his truck in flames and debris. He said wreckage hit "plenty of houses and mobile homes."

"It was just a big fireball coming at me," said Voegeli, 37. "It was just taking pine trees and just clipping them."

Witnesses said metal and plastic wreckage - some of it on fire - hit homes in the neighborhood, located about 35 miles northwest of Hilton Head Island. William Winn, the county emergency management director, said several homes were damaged. Eight people on the ground were injured.

The crash took place in the final minutes of the air show, said Lt. Cmdr. Anthony Walley, a Blue Angel pilot. The pilots were doing a maneuver which involved all six planes joining from behind the crowd to form a Delta triangle, said Lt. Cmdr. Garrett D. Kasper,
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spokesman for the Blue Angels. One plane did not rejoin the formation.

Walley said the name of the pilot would not be released until relatives were notified of the death. A Navy statement said the pilot had been on the team for two years - and it was his first as a demonstration pilot.

"Our squadron and the entire U.S. Navy are grieving the loss of a great American, a great Naval officer and a great friend," Walley said.

Kasper said all possible causes of the crash are under investigation, and it could take at least three weeks for an official cause to be released.

John Sauls, who lives near the crash site, said the planes were banking back and forth before one disappeared, and a plume of smoke shot up.

The Blue Angels fly F/A-18 Hornets at high speeds in close formations, and their pilots are considered the Navy's elite. They don't wear the traditional G-suits that most jet pilots use to avoid blacking out during maneuvers.

Including Saturday's crash, 24 Blue Angels Navy flight squadron pilots have been killed during air shows or training since the group was formed in 1946.

My family makes an annual trip to Pensacola, Florida to see the Blue Angels. I've never been the biggest fan, but I joined them this past Summer to see what it was all about. I had a great time, and was amazed by their stunts. Going to see them again this Summer. Sad.

Gucci 1557

I must have these glasses. I will have these glasses. Its been around 6 years since I last wore anything but contacts. Back in the day I had these black plastic Kenneth Cole frames with yellow tinted lenses. I miss those glasses and I'd love to wear them again, but I don't think I can pull that look off at 25.

I've been completely coherent since the Rockets game on Saturday. I don't know whether is was the cold weather, the fact that I had a few beers, or the game itself, but I've felt great since then. I even got my old Kodak EasyShare charged up and ready to go again. I think the last time I used it was during the hurricane. At least that's what the last pictures of. Uh-oh, I ended a sentence in a preposition. Maybe it the fact that I'm wearing a new pair of contacts. I'm picking up my new glasses in the morning. Did the two pair for $99 thing at Pearle. I wonder if its my vision problems that are to blame for my lack of vitality as of the last few months. Could be. Could also simply be that I haven't been to the gym since the first week of March. Fixing that tomorrow. I'm boring myself to death here.

Notes To Self: March

"The Five Hinderences"
1. Doubt
2. Desire
3. Aversion
4. Sloth/Torpor
5. Agitation/Restlessness

"The bureaucracy is united in its indifference" -?

Is Kierkegaard's "Leap of Faith" akin to enlightenment?
The Categorical Imperative trumps Game Theory?

John McCain = 100 soldiers, 3 blackhawks, and a bulletproof vest = Iraq is safe.

I'm sick of Clay Walker singing at every sporting event in Houston.

Existence is like being strapped into the driver's seat of a car going 100 mph with no brakes.

I need more time just to do nothing but think. I must be away from the television and computer in order to do this. Library?
*Lost my ability to make decisions for myself, trusting in your decision making abilities.
*Pretty much "the living dead" a lot of the time.
*I should listen to Dharma talks at the library on my Ipod. Minimize distractions and take notes

The better I concentrate the more anxious I get. I have to force myself to fall back into a mental haze to end the anxiety. This constant mental haze leads to depression. Its a vicious cycle. Anxiety is the root cause.

Going to the gym is the foundation of your future!!!
You need confidence!!!

I wish it were possible to really know someone. The impossibility of it terrifies me. Why bother at all? Is there some payoff I'm not aware of? What am I missing here. I guess the typical response would be to tell me to get over it. Is this really something I can get over, or is it just one more thing to repress? Maybe the whole point is that you're never supposed to really know the other. If it were really possible to completely know another person would that take away some of the spice of existence? Maybe I just need to take some more philosophy classes

When I get lost in thought about an object, I sometimes have trouble with the fact that I am not the object I'm thinking about.

Learn more about Joseph Conrad.

Watashi wa Andrew desu.

So, I was looking around for Japanese lessons and came across this strange girl. She is possibly the most annoying person I've ever seen on Youtube, but I can't stop watching her videos. What the hell is wrong with me. She's cute and all, but that doesn't explain why I'd spend an hour of my life watching her basically say and do nothing. She had me mesmerized for awhile. I think I'm over her now.

Late Ozu

The Criterion Collection has made me a happy man. I woke up this morning to an email from them with the news that they were releasing a boxed set of Yasujiro Ozu's last films. The only one missing is Floating Weeds, which is fine with me as I already own it. I think the Criterion Collection is starting to realize that their consumers aren't stupid. For a while now the cheapest way of buying Ozu films has been to import them directly from Japan. I'm happy I didn't buy the Japanese versions though, as the Criterion Collection tends to do amazing things with their transfers. I might as well buy the early Bergman boxed set while I'm at it.

This is why I admire Ingmar Bergman so much. I wish I could write a monologue like this one from Persona.

Don't you think I understand? The hopeless dream of being. Not seeming, but being. In every waking moment aware, alert. The tug of war -- what you are with others and who you really are. A feeling of vertigo and a constant hunger to be finally exposed. To be seen through, cut down even obliterated. Every tone of voice a lie. Every gesture false. Every smile a grimace. Commit suicide? That's unthinkable. You don't do things like that. But you can refuse to move and be silent. Then, at least, you're not lying. You can shut yourself in, shut out the world. Then you don't have to play any roles, show any faces, make false gestures. You'd think so, but reality is diabolical. Your hiding place isn't watertight. Life trickles in everywhere. You're forced to react. Nobody asks if it's real or not, if you're honest or a liar. That's only important at the theater, perhaps not even there. Elisabet, I understand why you're silent, why you don't move. Your lifelessness has become a fantastic part. I understand and I admire you. I think you should play this part until its done, until its no longer interesting. Then you can leave it, as you leave all your roles.

This monologue is what has inspired me to start blogging. Seems like the right time to try a new role.