Resurrection!

This blog was dead, but I am bringing it back to life. I didnt want to do this initially, because i thought that it was stupid, considering how many "living abroad/travel" type blogs there are out there, but hey.

having spent almost all day in my room, perhaps it is fitting to start with an article about hikikomori, a japanese word for withdrawl, but also to describe a social disorder that afflicts somewhere around 1 million Japanese people, according to those who have studied it.
Hikikomori are people who, for a variety of reasons, choose to stay in their rooms for years at a time. While witnessed in other, mostly Asian countries, it is something that is found predominantly in Japan.

An interesting, though not always visually coherent, documentary on the subject:

http://www.kalkarman.com/documentary/hikikomori.html

here is also a good nytimes article about it:

http://www.nytimes.com/2006/01/15/magazine/15japanese.html?_r=1&oref=slogin

A textual Manifesto

I didn't think that measures such as this, made by someone such as my humble self, would be necessary, but the number of over heard conversations and related anicdotes makes it so.

Stated plainly, this:
Text messaging is not an acceptable prerequisite for a sexual liaison.
really, i find text messaging a deplorable way to initiate an encounter of any kind, but yet it persists.
Text messaging is so pervasive at this point that i have seen people have lengthy conversations, typing faster than should be legal, on their phones, without actually talking.


Using a technological instrument that was first invented for the purpose of communicating vocally in any way other than talking is perverse in the extreme, and the implications are far reaching.

Text messaging should desist immediately if the integrity of the self and society as a whole is to be maintained with any semblance of legitamacy.

I am not a technology phobe, nor am i some kind of purist. Though i would not go so far as to embrace it unapologetically or fearlessly, I believe in the internet. It has its controversies, but a number of pearls can be purloined from its cornucopia. Just to make it clear, i am speaking of the wikis, the youtubes, and the sapphic erotica, the ebaums and the pages and pages of invaluable text files.
Here is a space for democracy, in all its ignorant and hedonistic glory, but also, perhaps, savvy and thoughtful redemption. At the very least it is a true forum for freely deceminated knowledge (except for OED and the New Yorker--for that you mostly need a subscription.)

But text messaging? This is the crux of our solitude--a method so purely without any emotional or human attachment, a method of communicating that so implicitly yet thoroughly expresses the desire not to communicate, to not really want to talk to the other person. A kind of shield of casual indifference. So only the words remain, in some kind of void, so lightheartedly yet distructively disembodied (a similar phenomena resulting from AIM).
When you text message you are carefully erroding that which makes you human, each text message like sulfuric acid on the human soul.

The most lethal part, i fear, is the blissful innocence with which texting is used, the naivety, the thoughtless adoption of a new technology that is slowly making a new flesh.


Its not too late, but the transformation is almost complete.

You have been warned.

Are Davids Funnier?

I was looking at my iTunes this morning, and I had a small epiphany as I scrolled through the D's.
There are a lot of funny people named David.
David Cross.
David Sedaris.
David Chappelle.
Larry David. (okay...not his first name, but still!)

Those are a lot of Davids, and I am sure this list is by no way complete. King David was known for being very wise, was he also a gold mine of one-liners?

Odds are, he was probably a side splitter.

He did outWIT Goliath...whoa!

Is it mean to be mean?

Even when it feels so good?

I have always believed (here again I will blame my catholic upbringing) that hate is something that consumes a person.

But now i believe that sometimes, kicking someone's ass is the only solution to one's problems. i would like to believe that violence is not the answer, but until some cocksmokers recognize, there is still room for violence anywhere.


Don't get me wrong, i don't condone murder--unless by a spouse, who happens to be a woman--but i think a little fist a cuffs is often called for.

In conclusion, i approve of the following types of fighting/aggression:

1. Drunken Boxing (I do not approve of rambling, drunken partner abuse in anyway)
2. Sober Boxing, with pillows on a bed or in an open field. (Weapons strickly prohibited)
3. Shots to the face, but only if the offending party has insulted your mother or done something equally offensive.
4. Face slaps (female to female only)
5. Dick slaps, or any other accousting method involving genitals or breasts. Suffocation with tits only permissable with consent.
6. Children fights without weapons, as they are not yet physically developed enough to do real harm, a healthy way to expend energy and get out initial frustrations towards opposite sex.

This is not a complete list, but it is a start.

If you are interested in some Amateur Comic Stylings...

You should tune in to my radio shows on WOBC 91.5, Oberlin, OH. You can listen to the webcast at wobc.org

My shows:

Sundays, 4-5pm: The Good Word with Dollar Bill and DoctorJ.
This is a literary talk show.

Tuesdays, 2-3am: Ask a White Girl with Dollar Bill AKA DJ WhiteT and Hershey Bar.
This is a talk show hosted by a white girl gone wild.

Tune in Next Week for some good shiiiiit!

Courage, Comrade!

in the spirit of fight the power fridays, i am going to post a video for josh , as he seems to have become apathetic in the fight against the MAN. maybe he should take the "White Straight Male Privilege" ExCo offered here at Oberlin, as it seems he has forgotten that if he is not part of the SOLUTION, he is part of the PROBLEM!

josh, have you forgotten that the fight against yourself is a never-ending battle?

here's a message, josh, from one of your favorite rappers--maybe he'll be able to jolt you out of your complacency.



Or is it too late for you?

The Reusable Yarn

Someone once told me a story about an old woman who was an expert knitter. Not surprising, I interjected with sarcasm, that a woman's greatest natural talent, after so many years of life, would be for such a traditional, domestic skill.
Just listen, the person told me.
The old woman lived in a small town, somewhere not far from here, but that you would be surprised to know actually existed, the kind of place so easily forgotten.

There the old woman lived alone for many years. No one was really sure how old she was, or how long she had been living in the town. Most of the people were new to the area; it was one of those towns with a lot of new developments, complexes for new families, where all the trees were cut down and you had to drive ten minutes to the grocery store. No one really knew each other, except perhaps in a line up one neighbor could identify another neighbor. "Yes, that's him" they would say, "I've seen him watering his lawn on Sunday mornings."

The old woman was probably the oldest person in town, other than the congregation of preists that lived next to the church.

but everyone knew who she was, because she could knit anything, and the wives of the young families would flock to church bake sales because the old woman would always be giving away the latest children's garments she had knitted: hats, scarves, sweaters, booties--all for the constant influx of newborns.

No one really paid much attention to the woman, otherwise.
That is, until the famine.