Photo of the Week -- The Origin of Fear? 21 Feb 2011

We're all familiar with my well-documented fear of clowns. The dudes just creep me out. I have accepted the fact, gone through therapy, and tried to not let it control my life. That's why, as I was digging through photos of my childhood I was initially surprised to find this gem from a long time ago:

That's right. I dressed as a clown -- the very thing I still wet my pants about upon even hearing the mention of -- for Halloween one year. Which leads me to asking: I wonder what the origins of my fear of clowns were, and when it started? Obviously it was after the day this picture was taken... otherwise my chubby little Japanese face would have been twisted in an expression of inconsolable fear immediately upon seeing my own reflection. Perhaps I don't want to delve into this. It could turn into a Bourne-like scenario where I find out crazy things about my past that were better left buried.


And of all coincidences, I was studying GRE vocabulary words yesterday and here is the example sentence for the word "engender". THIS IS VERBATIM: "His fear and hatred of clowns was engendered when he witnessed the death of his father at the hands of a clown."

I realize children aren't studying for these standardized tests, but this is a demented example sentence. Is this a sign I should just forget about some sort of further education? I mean, am I going to be physically assaulted by a clown whilst taking the GRE? Help?

Happy Monday. I'll be busy quelling paranoia about a clown attack.

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Weekly Selects #25

Thanks, all, for submissions. DC for the week:

-Via TXT from Josh M, regarding his attending the ballet:

Not too shabby...Could've done without the bulging packages though.

Well, if ever there was a reason not to appreciate good performing arts, I think Josh M just summarized it nicely via SMS.

-Via Picture TXT from DJA:

Genius. Now only if theyd taste a bit more like bacon.

Really, why do we keep putting off the inevitable? I'm telling you: Bacon-flavored bacon.

-Via Email from Casey, about 12 Creepy Dolls. The Japanese aren't ones to be outdone:

Check out the doll from Japan. Weird dude, just plain weird

Yup. In addition to times tables and grammar, learning to shave baby dolls is essential to every Japanese schoolkids' education. Right...?

-Via GChat from JMill:

this is my song for you

Yup. Top that.

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Mind Your Surroundings, Kid

Not a fan of just posting YouTube clips, because anyone can do that, but every once in a while you find those gems that sell themselves. This is one of those...with an awesome ending.



What kind of educational system were the Kiwis developing down in New Zealand? More importantly, is it still in place? Because if it is, I will be postponing my lifelong goal of vacationing in New Zealand -- indefinitely.

This kid could have benefited from the advice Dukat/Raz Agul gave Bruce Wayne when they were doing all kinds of crazy ninja-ness on the ice: "Always mind your surroundings." I guess in this case Dukat would have to amend the statement with "...especially when you're on television, and when there are Asian people around."

Also, I want to see the kid's score on the word association portion of the SAT.

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Butt Rock or Not

Remember the website "Hot or Not?" And how everyone placed their friends' pictures up so that that friend could either become an insufferable narcissist when they got scores of 9 or 10, or have their self-esteem crushed and then enter a downward spiral of Kurt Cobain-like depression (anything from a score of 5-down)?

Well, this has nothing to do with it. This is about you applying the BR education I have imparted to you in various mind-numbing posts. Now is the time to step forward and voice your opinion. What say ye of the Mighty Zep? State your evidence, and rank this shirt on a scale of 1-10 (1 being BR-free, 10 being Poison):


Photo courtesy of JT. Thanks to Erik, JT's summer intern, for not only sporting the shirt, but also for striking a pose that would normally be attributable to a flasher, a knock-off watch salesman, or a man toting a sawed-off shotgun.

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New Theory & Equation

So I was driving home from work. The car in front of me was lecturing me on my moral inferiority using five-word bumper sticker catchphrases. Look, I understand why people have bumper stickers. I have a Japan sticker and a BYU one on my car, because those are things I identify closely with.

However, there is pride in things that are important to you, and then there is excess:



This spurred me to develop a theory: The more bumper stickers on your car, in excess of three or four, the less people care about what you want to say.

...an equation:

(#BS > 3) ⇒ (Credibility↓)

...and a supplemental graph:

Lecture over.

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My Pops, Tom

A week late, but I've been tardy posting as of late.

So I had the typical 18 November phone conversation with my dad -- the same one I've had for the past ten years:

JD: Hey dad! just calling to say happy birthday!
D: I appreciate the phone call and you thinking of me. But I would prefer not to think about getting older...

And such it is with my dad. He doesn't like the spotlight and is perfectly content to do his own thing. I think a lot of people are surprised to find that I attribute a good deal of my own personality to him: some sarcasm, a tendency towards introvertedness, willing to let others make their own choices and not take control of the situation. I guess hands-offishness is the technical term I'm looking for. Encouraging might be another. All of these are great things, in my opinion.

Dad also instilled in me a thirst for knowledge and books, and an appreciation of music and culture. He always has his nose in a new book, is watching some documentary/history channel thing, is always looking for something new. When we (me, Jen, and Juli) were kids we would travel a lot as a family, get out and see how things were outside of the country, etc. Invaluable experiences that he and Shigeko facilitated. Now I think they're in competition to see who can dote over their grandkids more. So far it seems like they're dead even.


Now he's on a Bob Dylan kick. Has a bunch of albums, some books, and went to a concert in Canada the other week. Love it. I guess the lines at the border coming back from Canada were long; Homeland Security was being thorough and it was taking a while. The border guard asked my dad what his business in Canada was.

Dad: Went to a concert.
BG: The Bob Dylan one?
Dad: Yeah.
BG: I was there, too. Alright, go ahead.

Gotta love it.

Happy birthday, dad!

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My AAA Conference Report

I recently returned from the annual AAA (Asian-American Association) Conference. This year's theme was "Towards Homogeny -- A More United Front." They suggested that we take a couple of handouts home. I personally think the leadership of the AAA is getting a little uptight, but don't let them know that. They could revoke my membership.

The first handout was the "5A", or the Asian-American Association Approved Activities List, detailing the activities that are approved, non-approved, and pending approval as an Asian. Click the thumbnail below to view it.


The second list is a sort of "self-measuring" scale -- you can gauge your "Asian-ness" on the spectrum as compared to other Asians.

I thought this last handout was a little incomplete. I guess the remaining questions are: Who is missing, where would they rank, and why?

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My Claim to (Limited) Fame -- Photo of the Week 1 Sep 2008

Title: "Do I Really Look Like That?"
Location: Provo, UT
Year: Aug 2006

I know, posting a picture of myself is only encouraging my Napoleanic megalomania, but at the insistence of Jason Tanner, it's time for clarification on this picture of myself that anybody who gets the BYU alumni magazine might have already seen.

(for Jason Tanner's take on it, click here).

My campus job at BYU was working for BYU Independent Study (IS). IS usually has an annual photoshoot for their advertisements. Normal enough, right?

But here's the deal when you go to BYU: If you're not white, you are esteemed as a symbol of the University's diversity, something the school covets more than a lot of things. Enter my Japanese half. The Director of IS approached me one day at work before the photoshoot, and very delicately and gingerly asked me: "I, uh...don't mean to be offensive or insensitive...but Independent Study is having its photoshoot...and uh...we are looking for some...uh...cultural diversity--"

"Sure, I'll do it." The motivations were simple: I would get two movie passes and a gift certificate to Red Robin. For a poor college kid, that's a paid-for date right there. All I had to do was sign a waiver form granting permission to use my image any way they want. In retrospect, I should have asked for a royalty check each time they used my picture.

Regardless, my "diversity" got me the gig.

Think that's an oversimplification on my part? Perhaps.

But you didn't see the marketing people freaking out on the morning of the photoshoot when the black girl that was scheduled to model hadn't shown up yet. The closest comparison I have is what the White House must have been like the day the Kennedy administration discovered the Soviets were putting nukes in Cuba. People running everywhere and yelling. Pure, unbridled chaos.

Another comparison would be the scene in Ocean's 11 after they throw the Pinch and the casino breaks out into complete bedlam (that waitress getting clothes-lined is still priceless). Whichever comparison works for you. I'm sticking with the Missile Crisis.

Endnote: To be honest, I think they doctored my Asianness here. If you go into Photoshop, click on the Edit > Ethnic Doctoring, there should be options that say "Exclude Whiteness" and "Enhance Minority-ness." They might have used both here.

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To a More Powerful Vocabulary

My high school English teacher made us study out of this book called "30 Days to a More Powerful Vocabulary." It was actually a great book, but not one that you want to get caught reading in public. This entry follows in that vein.

As all the loyal readers recall (HAH!), I make up new verbs based on people's names, by either taking a tendency or a random act of moronic stupidity (whichever works in my favor) of a certain individual and making a verb. In recent days I have conjured up a few. These verbs contain subtle nuances, so you will want to read closely. Apologies for the non-gender neutrality of my examples; if you stick 'she' in there, it works just as well.

• "That guy is a total hypochondriac. He always Hillary's his situation and compares his cold to 'the Black Plague.' " - A certain presidential candidate for a certain political party has gotten desperate and has been making some exaggerated comments about her decision to continue running. (trans. "That guy will say anything to get attention, even to the point of drawing ridiculous and overstated analogies to his situation. What a wuss.")

• "He totally Hugh Grant'ed his front row seats to the NBA Finals for a fake-autographed tennis racket of Maria Sharapova's and a $5 gift card to Bath & Body Works." - No, this is not in reference to Hugh's tendency to play the exact same character in all of his movies, although that is stereotypical Hugh Grant. This refers to when he was dating Elizabeth Hurley, but threw it all away when he was caught cheating on her with a prostitute. (trans. "He had the opportunity that others only dream of, and completely ruined it for something of much much lower quality.)
  

• "Can you believe that?? He completely Pargo'ed my Powerpoint Presentation in front of the new boss." - I don't know if anyone saw Game 7 of the Hornets-Spurs series, but if you watched the last 6 minutes, you may know what I am talking about. Janero Pargo hadn't been effective for the Hornets the entire series and entered the game when his team was down by double digits. With the uncontrollable excitability of a golden retriever playing fetch with an amphetamine-laced stick, Pargo attempted to take over the game, and teammates like Chris Paul (MVP runner-up) and David West (All-Star) didn't touch the ball for a straight 5 minutes. (trans. "I can't believe that guy! We had a game plan all worked out, and then he totally took over my part and ruined it...not to mention he was so excited he wet his drawers.")
  

The best way to retain these is to attempt to use them a real-life situation. See if you can't find the opportunity to incorporate these into your vernacular with a co-worker or fellow student.

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How I Ended Up with a B.A.

A lot of people talk about "defining moments" in their lives; where it all became clear and they made a critical decision, turned their life around, [insert optimistic fluff]

I can point to a couple of those in the route I chose to take in my college education. I mean, how did a kid that did Knowledge Bowl [Captain my senior year] and Science Olympiad in high school, and seemed destined for some sort of hard science degree in college (not to mention the obvious-- Asian!), end up with a liberal arts degree?

Two anecdotes.

I had a great friend in high school, Warren, who was one of the popular kids. His only quirk was that he was a serious conspiracy theorist. I'm talking "Big Brother is out to get me" -type stuff; he had read all kinds of books. One day he came with me to my computer networking job (like I said: nerd) because he wanted to see what I did. Apparently, I did something to impress him...although I didn't know until later the extent.

I walked into class the next day and a mutual friend of ours, Neil, came right up to me.

-"Dude, you'll never believe what happened with Warren in CWP (Current World Problems) last period."
-"What'd he do this time?"
-"We got onto some topic and everybody was yelling back and forth the room at each other. This went on for a couple of minutes and in the middle of it all, Warren stands up and yells: 'It's not going to matter. You want to know why?! Because when we grow up, and Josh D [we'll leave my last name out of this] owns all of you, you're all going to be nothing but a bunch of barcodes. So you'd better get used to it!' It was unreal. The class was speechless."

So was I.

-"...So, Josh. When you take over the world, I've got a spot as a favored minion, right?"
-"Uh, sure, Neil. Yeah."

I decided then and there that if I continued on my nerd/science track, I would end up being a dictator. I wasn't going to let that happen. That set the stage for my complete break with science. The complete break would come a few years later.

*****

I took Chem 105 my sophomore year at BYU. While I don't doubt the professor's PhD status (ok, I sometimes do), our ability to learn was severely hindered by his completely Battlefield Earth teaching. Almost every single concept he "taught" to us could, in his mind, be demonstrated by blowing up a hydrogen balloon at the end of class. Apparently explosions and mayhem are really solid, proven pedagogical techniques. Demonstration of the Law of Entropy? Redox reactions? Only thing I remember about these concepts is explosions. My roommate who had class in the same room after mine would be waiting for me afterwards, and as I walked out he would just say, "Another hydrogen balloon today, huh?" It was like witnessing the Hindenburg go down 12 times in a single semester.

One day in this class we were discussing electron clouds and orbits. The dialogue between the professor and a student went something like this:

-"Professor X [no, sorry "X-Men" fans...the "X" is for purposes of anonymity], the textbook says that the orbit is where the electron has a 99.99% chance of being."
-"That's correct."
-"So where is it the other 0.01% of the time?"
-"It could be anywhere, really. The room next door, Mars, another solar system..." I remember slamming my chemistry textbook shut. Science sure does a great job of explaining things. "...now if you'll allow me to demonstrate with this balloon. Could somebody turn off the lights...?"

I think that could be the defining moment when I gave up on science.

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Underground Addictions

Another confession.

Everyone has different smells that they enjoy. Most people like flowers or the ocean or new car or some other smell that is easily marketable in a Febreeze can.

For me, it boils down to sharpie markers and gasoline. Something about stepping out of the car at a gas station and having that smell hit my olfactories is -- how does that old cliche go? Like a warm blanket? That's not right, but I can't think of anything better.

Am I addicted? Well, you won't see me buying cases of extra-potent sharpies out of some guy's trunk in a 7-Eleven parking lot at 3AM. And you probably won't find me underneath an overpass huddled over a bucket of gasoline. Gas prices are so high now, drugs are probably cheaper anyway.

I'm not much for conspiracy theories, but this tendency to sniff markers after unscrewing the cap isn't my fault. This was ingrained in me since my preschool days and I am not accountable... I blame Sanford.

"Who?"

You know, the company that decided to produce those scented colored markers that you used for coloring stuff when you were little. They teach you to get strung out before you can string simple sentences together! This preempts marijuana as the "gateway drug" by YEARS.

I seem to remember reading in one of my psychology classes that the best way to learn about something is to engage as many of the senses as possible; not just the sight and sound that are usually accompanied with school, but, if possible, to engage smell, touch, and taste as well. I suppose that this was Sanford's guise for this product. But do I really need to be reminded of what black licorice smells like when I'm struggling to just color within the lines? Honestly.

And how the hell is turquoise a representative color for mango?? (I looked up their product listing)

So thanks, Sanford. I may have a solid idea for what cherry smells like, but now I'm trapped in a cage of your making.

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Education, Education, Education

Snowshoeing took me to the "mountains" of West Virginia a couple of weeks back. It was my first venture into "The ----- State" ...I actually don't know what the state nickname is, and frankly, it's too late for me to care enough to look it up. Anyway, given Rye's semi-offensive jokes regarding the inhabitants of WV, I was expecting green, sprawling fields with rows and rows of bathtubs filled with fermenting moonshine, or toothless, bearded men donning 'coon skin caps firing shotguns at each other from the ditches on each side of the road. Something like that.

Crazy expectations, you say? You haven't heard the jokes that Rye tells.

On the return journey we had to pull over and flip around once. We pulled temporarily into a driveway which Dave said "look[ed] like it belong[ed] to a slasher." Below is the sign that was posted at the beginning of his driveway. A simple "No Trespassing: Private Property" probably would have sufficed; not only in preventing trespassers, but also in preserving this man's dignity by not exposing his ignorance to anyone who happens to pass by:

Let me type it out in case you can't see it well, and go through this like my 6th grade English teacher used to go through sentences, picking it apart piece-by-piece.

"Trespassers will b
percecuted to the full extent of 2 mungrel dogs which
never was over sochible to strangers
& 1 dubble brl. shot gun which aint loded with sofa pillers. Dam if
I aint gitten tired of this
hell raisin on my place."

On second thought, I will not pick this apart. I think it speaks quite clearly for itself.

If I were in any other state, I would say that this is so over the top that it is a joke. But when you're in WV, sometimes you just don't know --

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A Beasties' Education

“We be gettin' stupid in your area / Causin' all kinds of hysteria / My beats is sick like malaria” -- this is pure lyrical genius. And no, you guessed wrong: it's not Keats.

AdRock's the screamer. Mike D's the nasally one. MCA is cool, calm, collected. They're three white boys from New York City that proved they could drop beats and rhymes with the best of 'em.

I have their five major albums, as well as their new instrumental CD. I have two of their DVD's -- "The Beastie Boys' Video Anthology" and "Awesome, I Shot That!" -- and I consider them two of the most prized in my collection. I was ready to go to their concert in 2000 when they were touring with Rage Against the Machine, but Mike D broke his collarbone riding home from work on his bike, so the tour was canceled. I was found sobbing in the corner of a shower stall sobbing, if my pain-clouded memory serves me correctly.

Me and my best friend in high school would karaoke and record ourselves at least once a week. We bought the same type of orange jumpsuits that the Beasties performed in one concert and wore them to school dances. We held serious roundtable discussions about which of the "Big 5" albums is the Beasties' best (I still say "Ill Communication", with "Paul's Boutique" a close second) -- I'm talking about dissertations being produced here, people.

It sounds sad, but the Beastie Boys have played a semi-major role in my upbringing. In light of all of this, I present to you a non-exhaustive list of things the Beasties have taught me, that I might not have learned otherwise (with proper citations to songs in parentheses):

1. French phrases, such as creme de la creme ("Body Movin' ") and savoir faire ("Sure Shot"). Keep in mind this in no way means I like the French. They are still cigarette-smoking pansies.

2. You can earn 11 points in Boggle for the word 'quagmire' ("Putting Shame in Your Game"):
"I am the king of Boggle, there is none higher,
I gets eleven points for the word 'quagmire'"

3. People such as Eddie Harris ("So Whatcha' Want"), Rod Carew ("Sure Shot") and Jimmy Vaughn (“Pass the Mic”) would have remained unknowns to me.

4. In the tradition of the great Japanese poets, writing about your travels in verse can still be great (“High Plains Drifter” and “Paul Revere”); I suppose where they diverge is that the Boys mostly rap about robbing people and stealing your girl from you. I didn't catch anything like that when I read Basho's haikus, but it could have been "between the lines."

5. Road trips are and always will be sweet (“No Sleep ‘Til Brooklyn”)

6. Civil protests for a good cause are still encouraged. (“Fight For Your Right”)

7. It’s okay to brag about your wardrobe (“Shadrach”):
“…[I've got] more Adidas sneakers than a plumbers got pliers,
Got more suits than Jacoby & Meyers”

8. This may not be a good thing, but I've learned obscure marijuana references: sinsemilla ("Sounds of Science")

9. Is there a better music video than "Sabotage" ?

10. Loyalty ("The New Style"):
"Stepped into the party, the place was overpacked--
Saw the guy that dissed my homeboy, shot him in the back"

11. Long-distance relationships are tough ("High Plains Drifter"):
"A long distance from my girl and I'm talkin' on the cellular,
She said that she was sorry, and I said 'Yeah the hell you were'

12. It's literary to turn colloquial phrases into a play on words ("The Maestro"):
"...I am all that,
And I see you lookin' at me, saying: 'How can he be so skinny, and live so fat?' "

13. Most importantly: Don't take yourself too seriously and enjoy life.

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