9-12-05 - I got an email from Crystal, one of my business English students. She writes:
Hi, Jonathan:
I finished my travel yesterday afternoon.we played the Parachote,like a true parachutist. It's my first expierence,so i am very excited, you can see my photo. we sleeped in a tent,and around a lake.it was rain at the mid night.
There are a little water in my tent. so the sleep and eat condition is hard,we sill happied. I think it may be the charm of nature.everyone is the child of nature. I will go PuTuo Mountain this weekend because my friend want to there.She said she want to find a slient place and beg the god. So i will go there though i don't want to.
I will go PuTuo Mountain by sheep,but i will stay the sheep at the night,it's a pity.but i think i will still have the feeling of sailing as you. please look my picture.
good lucky!

9-6-05 - Life is a funny thing. I amaze myself out how difficult it can be to do remarkably easy tasks. These are some of these things that loom in our head as we drift off to sleep at night - things that we plan to do in the morning so we have a more well-rounded and complete day. And some of these things are longer-term self-improvements, often in regard to how we treat ourselves and each other. Regardless of how much we plan to alter bad habits, we still make the same mistakes. We still end up committing the same errors and acts of disrespect. Most of the time we don't even know that we do the things that our friends complain about behind our back, but when we often rationalize our bad habits with complacency. If people have put up with this for all this time, they can deal with it for a while longer.
I'm on a flight from PDX to OAK. A tall brunette is sitting a few seats next to me in 12F. She's reading Wicked and wearing a green army-style cap. I don't know why Southwest has numbered seats. The flight is half empty, or half full, depending on your disposition. If I were going to take over this flight, I would have brought a squirt bottle filled with some dangerous chemical. I think that would be my best shot - something that would burn through clothes and incapacitate the victim. I'm not sure about getting through the door to the cabin. I think my God-complex and the simple fact that I would be so drunk with power would be enough for me to figure out a way in. I would land the plane safely and escape with the fleeing passengers. I've given a lot of thought to the morbid thought of being the only survivor on a plane that crashed spectacularly (as opposed to the boring crashes) into the Pacific.

8-15-05 - Happy Birfday Cathy Meyer. She's helping me find a job. I've been looking online for jobs and stumbled across a site that helped you determine a career, based on your answers to fifty questions. I took the test and received this result:
Jonathan is most likely benevolent, voluntarily giving of self to help others, especially regarding current pain, hurts, stress, needs, and problems. This means empathetic, sympathetic, intentional, personal involvement in the personal lives of others to give help, sacrificially if necessary, and to subjectively gain personal satisfaction from providing personal service. (NOTE: emphasis is on the word "personal." This is a heart trait and is totally self-motivated and voluntary. It is one of the most strongly motivated traits in determining vocational dedication. The word "others" is important in the context of benevolence) Jonathan is probably more benevolent toward persons not intimately, formally, or organizationally related. (NOTE: Benevolence expects those in close relationships to join in the giving rather than being a priority recipient.) Nonetheless, Jonathan probably exhibits benevolence toward all persons. But benevolence does have priorities about eligibility of persons for -----

It reads like a horoscope. I guess its back to bodybuilding. Who was I kidding anyways?

8-4-05 - It's the end of an era. I'm back in California, my Asian tour of duty fin. It was an unbelievable success and pitiful failure, depending on which sensationalistic British yellow mag you subscribe to. Anyhow, the impetus for today's entry is the seminal moment that this site reached over the weekend. Just as I was preparing to depart to America, Privilegedlife.org served its 30,000 customer. Technically it celebrated its 30,000th unique visit, which is close enough to what I'm looking for. I don't know if that's good or bad. Shortly before this accolade the site logged 358 unique visits on one day. Again, I don't know if this is unbelievably successful or another example of my pitiful failure. I don't really care if 358 people or 1 person come to the site each day, so I guess it doesn't matter. The site really only exists to fill the 4:51 - 4:55 time window of people who work 9-5 and have very few responsibilities beyond physically sitting at their desk between those hours. By 4:51pm they will have likely perused all other time-consuming sites - nytimes, drudgereport, sfgate, boredbeyondbelief, craigslist, match, amazon, tedstrong, thesmokinggun, espn, eonline and of course octvshow.

07/24/05 - The Priv has received a lot of inquiries about the semantic origin of vice versa. We've waited to address this growing concern until the political climate was right, and now, with the revaluation of the chinese yuan, we strike:

Vice versa means ’in reverse order from that of a preceding statement; conversely’: "I love my wife, and vice versa."
The first word is the ablative case of a Latin word meaning ’interchange; alternation’. It is used in English as a preposition meaning ’instead of; in the place of’, especially as the first element in such forms as vice-chancellor or vice-chairman, referring to an official who serves in the absence of the official noted by the base form.
The second element, versa, is a participle from the verb vertere ’to turn’, which also turns up in such English words as revert and invert.
Vice versa is first recorded around 1600, though not in Shakespeare. In its first few centuries it was often considered a Latin phrase and was printed in italics, but now it is regarded as fully Anglicized and almost always appears in roman type.

7-23-05 - I watched Crash tonight. It's a movie with a lot of famous actors and actresses. The tagline is: "You think you know who you are. You have no idea." I was compelled to read more. The back of then dvd package provided some introspective insights: "May 3 1998 races car the championships up, take place the abrupt sex trouble, too the farmland also maim because of this trouble, lost to live bottom Courage of go to, but the wife and children are still too his very consider ate.The close relatives‘ love can let him re- invigorate and is evil with disease to make to contend for Bottom?
You think you know who you are. You have no idea."
The movie did have an introspective effect, and I think it had a lot to do with the above paragraph I painstakingly reverse translated. Funny thing about life, sometimes when you start looking for something you end up further from it than when you first started.

07/22/05 - My friend Debra sent me a few pictures from the trouble she's getting into in Spain. She was there for the running of the bulls in Pamplona:

07/19/05 - I got an email from my friend Satish (Shan Mugum), who I met at Everest Base Camp. His picture is somewhere below. He has just finished recovering from an expedition in India. Pretty harrowing. Check out the details:

The 10 Member Indian Naval Mountaineering team left Delhi on 19 Apr to north of siachen glacier for mountaineering expediton to (ladhak) Region, Virgin peak Mt Lakshmi (Ht 6850 Mts) on Teram Shehr Glacier(adjacent glacier to siachen glacier full of hidden cravesse, so many times escaped from creavasse fall and rescued by other members). On 20 Apr team left from chandigarh to thoise and stay for 03 days at Parthapur as acclimatiation, then team moved to Siachen base camp on 24 Apr and stay for 03 days. On 27 Apr team started trek on siachen glacier for 68 KMS, 60 kms north in length, 08 kms right turn, were junction peak of siachen glaicer and teram shehr glacier, it took 06 days to reach base of Junction Peak.After 02 days recce to Mt Laxmi, the team started to move towards base of Mt lakshmi. It is 13 kms distance from junction peak. from 05 May the weather started to become worse and it was foul weather till 22 May, meanwhile we fixed rope from 5200 mtrs to 6300 mtrs on Mt Laxmi and faced many difficults at last left hope to climb, team then moved to Junction peak on 22 May took rest on 23 May. Finally we decided to climb junction peak in one day. On 24 May 05 early morning 2 AM we started to climb from base of junction peak from 4400 mtrs and around 0415 hrs we reached 5300 mtrs, all of sudden 09 members including me caught in avalanche and carried down 500mtrs appx at 4800 mtrs in just 40 Seconds we were lying, six members escaped with out any hit, but 03 members with me got severe injury and recovered by Army Helicopter to nearest Miltary Hospital in Ladhak for tratment, Admitted here for a month, then also my left ankle didn't get well and i could not walk, my left ankle plaster (POP) was removed on 10 Jul, after that also i was not able to use my left leg, after some psytheropy exercies now for a short distace of 500 to 1000 mtrs i can walk, other wise iam fine. now iam at Delhi (India) undergoing treatment for fast recovery. It was a great mircale iam communicating with you today, it is his grace iam once again in human life. where are you now , if in India can contact me on mobile. I wish you peace ful, joyful and happy life. Enjoy your life.

As I sit behind my computer, 11 hours yesterday, 11 hours today, I feel that I am falling into crevasses and getting rescued by army whirlybirds just the same. Except my rescue has been more of a metaphorical one, and not so much of a rescue as it is an awakening. But alas, when you wake up in a dream its sort of a reverse awakening, isn't it?

07/02/05 - The Crystal Method is coming to Shanghai on July 16. Where are you going to be? Call 6289 3919 for free delivery of your 150 yuan tickets...

06/28/05 - The Burger King Bill of Rights, as seen at the new (as of today) Burger King in Jinan District, Shanghai:

You have the right to have things your way. * You have the right to break dance while you order. * You have the right to hang French Fries from your upper lip so you look like a walrus. * You have the right to have that big meal sleepy feeling. * You have the right to make that slurping sound with your straw. * To hold the end with your finger and let the soda fall into your mouth. * To play air drums on your Whopper. * You have the right to put a paper crown on your head and pretend you're the ruler of ___________. * You have the right to laugh until soda explodes from your nose like a broken water main. * You have the right to have an opinion on everything. You have the right to stand up and fight for what you believe in. * You have the right to sit down and watch TV. * You have the right to go all out. You have the right to sleep in. * You have the right to crumple this bill of rights into a ball and shoot hoops with it.

I'm not sure how I should feel about these democratic ramblings in communist China, but as long as they keep serving up tasty flame-broiled Whoppers for 10.8 yuan, I'll roll with it.

06/22/05 - I'm reading Don Quixote at the moment, mostly on the bus between Xujiahui and Jinan Temple, but I'm finding a great many similarities in the modus operandi employed by the Don and myself. I think he would make a good business partner. Take for example a quote from Chapter 18, titled Dorothea's inventiveness and other entertaining matters:

"Blockhead!" exclaimed Don Quixote; it is not the duty of knights-errant to examine whether the afflicted, enslaved and oppressed whom they meet by the way are in evil plight and anguish because of crimes or misfortunes. Their concern is simply to relieve them because they are needy and in distress, looking at their sorrow and not at their rogueries. I came across a rosary or string of poor unhappy wretches, and I did for them what my religion demands of me; as for the rest, come what may: and saving the presence of this reverence and his holy office, if anyone sees aught amiss in what I have done, I say that he knows little of the principles of chivalry, and, furthermore, he lies like a misbegotten son of a whore, and this I will make him know with my sword, which can give him the full answer.

06/17/05 - I was in Siem Reap, Cambodia, last month around this time last month. It was nice. I went to Angkor Wat Archeological Ruins. I ate Cambodian food and enjoyed HBO in my room for the third or fourth time this trip. At this time this month, on Thursday to be exact, gunmen rushed a school with 50 two to six year old students. In negotiating with the police, they requested money, safe transport to Thailand and of course rocket-propelled grenade launchers, as their AK-47 assault rifles would not be enough. They eventually got a van and $30,000 after killing a three year old Canadian boy. They were not able to leave the complex, as police stormed the building and killed some hostages. There is video footage of the hostages being beaten unconscious, but I have not been able to find it online.

On a more benevolent note, my trip to the Lighthouse Orphanage in Phnom Penh is now online,as is the slideshow.

On the way home from Tang Hui last night, my taxi driver fell asleep. I was tired too and had been closing my eyes. I noticed we were at an intersection with a green light, and fortunately not moving .I barked "XIANSHENG" and we continued on to Kanding Lu. I tipped him 1 RMB.

06/02/05 - It's time I slink these baskets, off this silver burdened horse, sink my toes into the sand, and set another course. 'Cause if I were here and you were there, I'd meet you in between, and not before my dying day, confess what I had seen.

05/17/05- My friend Deb sent out some pictures from her last year of traveling around the world. She lives the privileged life, working on what is probably the nicest cruise ship in the world. Most ports that she visits she gets a shore leave and can explore the country a bit. Here are a couple, not sure where they're from. Check out the Y! Slideshow for another dozen...

05/17/05- As I holiday in Cambodia, and celebrate Evan Johnson's birthday, I am reminded of the prophetic Dead Kennedy's song, Holiday in Cambodia:

So you been to school
For a year or two
And you know you've seen it all
In daddy's car
Thinkin' you'll go far
Back east your type don't crawl

Play ethnicky jazz
To parade your snazz
On your five grand stereo
Braggin' that you know
How the niggers feel cold
And the slums got so much soul.

It's time to taste what you most fear
Right guard will not help you here
Brace yourself, my dear.

It's a holiday in Cambodia
It's tough, kid, but it's life
It's a holiday in Cambodia
Don't forget to pack a wife.

You're a star-belly sneech
You suck like a leach
You want everyone to act like you
Kiss ass while you bitch
So you can get rich
But your boss gets richer off you.

Well you'll work harder
With a gun in your back
For a bowl of rice a day
Slave for soldiers
Till you starve
Then your head is skewered on a stake.

Now you can go where people are one
Now you can go where they get things done
What you need, my son.

Is a holiday in Cambodia
Where people dress in black
A holiday in cambodia
Where you'll kiss ass or crack.

Pol pot, pol pot, pol pot, pol pot?

And it's a holiday in Cambodia
Where you'll do what you're told
A holiday in Cambodia
Where the slums got so much soul.

05/14/05- From Ryan Brush: John W. Hill of High View, W.Va., was arrested near St. Louis in March after sheriff's deputies had stopped to investigate why he was parked alongside I-70. He was shirtless, wearing an Indian vest, cargo pants and combat boots, had several loaded pistols,an assault rifle, a two-shot Derringer, two long rifles, a serious knife, 400 rounds of ammo and various drugs. He said only that he was headed to South Dakota Indian country to deliver supplies and a sack full of Bibles to children, and that he was armed because the West is "dangerous." He was charged with possessing a loaded weapon while intoxicated. [Columbia Daily Tribune-AP, 3-25-05]

04/13/05- It's Songkran in Thailand, their New Year. If you come to Thailand, come for Songkran.
Tonsai by the numbers:
Number of flush toilets used in the last six weeks: 1
Price, in USD, of my bungalow in Tonsai Beach: $2.50
Estimated length, in feet, of the boa constrictor seen a few nights ago: 12-15
Price of 250 grams of fresh grilled barracuda, snapper, shark, or kingfish, served with baked potato and all you can eat salad bar: $2.45
Estimated number of times I say mai pen rai (no problem, forget about it, you're welcome) each day: 45
Estimated likelihood, in percentage, of having a monkey steal something from you, if you stay in Tonsai for over a week: 85
Number of hours of electricity each day at Tiew Khao Bungalows: 5
Number of pairs of pants I've worn during the 2005 calendar year: 1
Number, in liters, of water imbibed on an average day: 6-7
Price, in USD, of 25 liters of water: $1.25
Peak number of drummers onstage last night at the Railay Reggae Festival: 7
Number of power outages, which initiated drum solos and fire dancing, during above festival: 5 Number of hotel rooms I've stayed in during the last five weeks with air-conditioning, towels, hot water or soap: 1
Number of road vehicles I've used in the last 3 weeks: 1
Length, in minutes, of ride: 0.75
Number of sinks at Tiew Khao Bungalows: 0

Likelihood, in percentage, of perfect weather tomorrow: 100

03/10/05- Yahoo, Hotmail, gmail and just about every other email provider is blocked in myanmar, so email me at curator@privilegedlife.org, which seems to sometimes be accessible..
Sonia writes: class can only be maintained at this high level of poshness by balance, which comes in suffocating waves of goofyness. Quite true.

03/09/05- As of 9:50pm on Tuesday evening, my sister and brother-in-law have a new son, my parents have a new grandson, and I have a new nephew, Justin Wyckoff. Justin is 7 lbs even and is 19 3/4". Both Jennifer and Travis are doing well. Congratulations!
Here is a picture:

03/08/05- I got a picture from Raf from the morning after the full moon party. Here it is:

03/07/05- I'm doing my taxes online. It's good fun. The crazy Khao San circus is outside, and I'm trying to deconstruct itemized versus standardized deductions. I don't own a home, at the moment, and H&R Block offered this kind advice:

We noticed that you didn't enter an itemized deduction for home mortgage interest. Owning a home is the American dream and a smart tax strategy. Almost anyone who is making a monthly rent payment can be approved for a mortgage.

02/28/05- Scott sent me his pictures from Thailand. Check 'em out...

02/16/05- Sonia sent me this sweet picture from a Hindu festival she just went to. Check it out HERE. Here is an Ofoto link to the pictures from Thailand, further proof that I am in Asia and not in jail serving time for my comments against the State.
Also, a eulogy to Hunter S. Thompson is now online.
I have been doing a remarkable amount of swimming these past few days...

02/16/05- Sonia sent me this sweet picture from a Hindu festival she just went to. Check it out HERE.

02/12/05- Hold on tightly, let go lightly...

02/02/05- Can anyone tell me how this works??? Thank you Miss Yergensen.
From Dr. Science, Mr. 1490, Evan Johnson: It's based on an algorithm for multiples of 9. You'll notice that your final number is always a multiple of nine and that the symbols under the numbers refresh and change after each guess.

12/26/04 - A friend of mine I met on Everest, Satish, sent me an email today with a picture. He writes: wish u happy new year we have named the peak as Mt Konchuk Tsoo means water God(ladhaki word) again we may be climbing in the month of mar 05, i will let u know i get more details. take care my friend, life is precious till we exist on this earth. enjoy ur life peacefully, happily and joyfully.

12/25/05 - Musica updated... People are lined up 50 deep outside of Pizza Hut tonight. By that I mean there is a line of over 50 (fifty) people, standing outside in near freezing weather, to eat pizza at Pizza Hut. Teenagers on dates, old men and their wives, groups of girls - Pizza Hut has a far-reaching demographic. Sometimes I don't understand China. I understand that China does not celebrate this holiday, but why do some Chinese restaurants say Merry Christmas to everyone coming in, locals and foreigners alike? My Christmas lessons are unnecessary, the kids already know all about Santa Claus, his elves, the whole roof-chimney-stockings-christmas tree-milk&cookies routine. How do they know that? I was treading a fine line, not wanting to insinuate that Santa did not exist, but at the same time teaching children who had never been visited by Santa. It's almost comical. I got a few presents today. Very, very very Chinese presents. Vicky, my Taiwanese student, gave me a nice letather coin pouch. A student gave me a pencil case with pencils in it. I have a feeling a pencil case is about the nicest gift a chinese person can give. I got the first legitimate answer to my What do you want for Christmas question. Jack informed me that he wanted a spaceship. He would like to go to the Sun. He didn't elaborate on the logistical imbroglio associated with visited the sun, but augmented his answer with a request for sunglasses. For some reason his creative processes have not yet been squashed. The person after him requested pencils. I read them 'Twas the Night Before Christmas" off my iPod, but they either couldn't listen to 400 words of consecutive English or they just couldn't understand it. Rudolph is not one of the eight reindeers in the story, so I'm not sure if there are retirements or children that get the nod or if there are lots of flying reindeer in towns near the North Pole like there are huskies in Alaskan dog-sled towns. Mush Mush...

12/24/04 - I just got back from class and started playing some music. RUN DMC's Christmas in Hollis came on, aproposically. For those unfortunate souls not familiar with the more festive selections on Together Forever: Greatest Hits 1983-1991, here are the lyrics:

Run:
It was December 24th on Hollis Ave in the dark
When I seen a man chilling with his dog in the park
I approached very slowly with my heart full of fear
Looked at his dog, oh my God, an ill reindeer
But then I was illin because the man had a beard
And a bag full of goodies, 12 o'clock had neared
So I turned my head a second and the man had gone
But he left his driver's wallet smack dead on the lawn
I picket the wallet up then I took a pause
Took out the license and it cold said "Santa Claus"
A million dollars in it, cold hundreds of G's
Enough to buy a boat and matching car with ease
But I'd never steal from Santa, cause that ain't right
So I'm going home to mail it back to him that night
But when I got home I bugged, cause under the tree
Was a letter from Santa and all the dough was for me
D.M.C. :
It's Christmas time in Hollis Queens
Mom's cooking chicken and collard greens
Rice and stuffing, macaroni and cheese
And Santa put gifts under Christmas trees
Decorate the house with lights at night
Snow's on the ground, snow white so bright
In the fireplace is the yule log
Beneath the mistle toe as we drink egg nog
The rhymes you hear are the rhymes of Darryl's
But each and every year we bust Chrsitmas carrols
(Christmas melodies)
Run-D.M.C. :
Rhymes so loud and prod you hear it
It's Christmas time and we got the spirit
Jack Frost chillin, the orchas out?
And that's what Christmas is all about
The time is now, the place is here
And the whole wide world is filled with cheer
D.M.C. :
My name's D.M.C. with the mic in my hand
And I'm chilling and coolin just like a snowman
So open your eyes, lend us an ear
We want to say
Run-D.M.C. :
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

I think I'll teach my class this song, as opposed to The Night Before Christmas. It speaks to the people on a more personal level, I feel... I got a merry christmas email from Serge, my Russian buddy I met on a long layover in Ürümqi. He sent me a story about people jetskiing in Thailand, and these pics:

I don't know what either one mean. The right one kinda reminds me of those fanciful wizard posters, all full of their fancy and all. The guy on the sleigh looks like Gandalf. The message - C Hobbu Togou! - cannot be mistaken. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night...
Thanks to Adrian for writing in ~ The Pictured card says Happy New Year in Russian and the fat guy that is pictured on the front is Santa Clause, it is not Merry Christmas because Russians do not celebrate Christmas, Just New Year.

12/20/04 - You might say it doesn't feel like Christmas, but you don't live in China, where they celebrate Christmas - to some extent, and for some strange reason. The Shanghainese - much like people who live in Beijing, Taiwan and Japan - have a spiritual void. Buddhism exists, but few practice it. People worship money like a god and will work 360 days a year to achieve some degree of success, at some day far away in the future. I spoke with a student who told me her husband is boring. He never gives her presents on her birthday or for special occasions. He contends that since he gives her all his money, he is absolved of any further responsibility. I think many children are growing up without sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles as well as fathers. The problem is that many Chinese people inextricably link the accumulation of wealth with success and happiness. I obviously have no clue as the what constitutes success and happiness, so I pose this perspective as just that - no animadversion or dogmatism here. Ironically, Mao philosophized and implemented socialist measures and programs that would eliminate the lacanae between the rich and poor, educated and illiterate, powerful and impotent. I think I'll teach "rolling over in his grave" to my business English student Tony in an hour...

I got a few pictures from one of my students. I tutor a Taiwanese woman on the weekends. She has a daughter named Sandy, shown below. Let these pictures serve as evidence that I am involved in philanthropic projects, and not soley devoted to profligate pleasure seeking.

UNDATED - I ask my students what time they get up, and what time they go to sleep, I find that their responses differ a bit from my hours. Hmm. The middle of the night is a relative concept, but its definately not midnight. Hi Bomb is some damn crafty Chinese Hip-Hop. Check it out at your local Tower Records. Discerning fans laud A Yo as their most important work. They could be as crucial to the development of Chinese hip-hop as Kraftwerk was to Electronica, or whatever you're calling it today.
I wrote up a little bit on my marathon, check it out if you're bored...

11/18/04 - My man George Siambis got back from Cyprus a few weeks ago and sent over some pics of the political disadvantaged region, if that's what we can call it. Turkey and Greece own the island and are supposed to somehow share it. George writes, "As you may know, almost half of Cyprus is occupied by Turkey and the capital, Lefkosia, is actually split in two along the so-called "green line" that some limey general drew on a map with a green pen back in the sixties. There is still a UN buffer zone patrolled by UN peacekeepers separating the Turkish from Greek sides. Anyways, walking the entire length of the green line I came across some interesting sights. Most surprising, it turns out that no parking is allowed next to the buffer zone; such a mundane and 'normal' restriction had never occurred to me but it does make sense. It was eerie looking into the buffer zone and seeing the crumbling city practically untouched since 1974. There were bullet holes in all the buildings near the line and I talked to a lady who had remained in her home throughout the invasion who described it as a real war zone. Crazy shit.

Thanks for the pics, George.

I wrote up a little something on the 2004 Toray International Marathon in Shanghai. I ran it last Saturday. I wish some of my naysayers had said I'd never walk again, and then this marathon could be a testament to man's determination over adversity, but I wanted to get Mike a free pair of shoes as principal on the capital I owe to him, and this was the most creative way I could think. I should be picking up some Mizuno's today.

11/15/04 - Posh UBC's be chargin me 30 kuai for a cup of coffee. It comes in the little European tea cup, too, so I get about three sips. A bacon cheese-burger is cheaper here, and this is a coffee shop. Good thing I be rollin deep in red notes, sheeeet, chump don't want no help, chump don't get no help. I just realized that there is a wireless Internet here, which justifies the expensive price of coffee, but not the attractive bacon-cheeseburger price. I'm listening to Bombay the Hard Way, and wondering who all my naysayers are. Why do you come here if you're only going to be muckraker? Don't you have anything better to do? Is it really necessary to give me the satisfaction of a weekly visit only so you can find things wrong with it and try to align my friends against me? You know who you are, and everyone's happy when you get killed off in Shakespeare's world. I'll find a way to kill you off too, figuratively speaking, of course.
UBC has good coffee, although expensive, wireless Internet, although slow, and comfortable couches, although I'd give up a little cushion for a little less smoke.
RIP, Dirt McGirt, aka Russell Jones, aka O.D.B., aka Old Dirty Bastard. "Collapsed and died inside a recording studio... He was 35." Well, we'll never forget how you lost the Grammy to Puff Daddy in '98. You represented onstage though, bum-rushing the stage and complaining that you bought new clothes for this event cause how could you lose? We will also not forget how you did time for escaping from a rehab clinich. Rehab is for quitters, and ODB is a gamer.You'll be in our thoughts, your family in our prayers.
Time to go eat Hunan food and get Paul drunk. He leaves tomorrow.

11/10/04 - New pics added to the Shanghai slideshow - Century Club party, one Halloween pic, and my 'hood... Be the one at your water cooler talking about it!

11/09/04 - If anyone has any friends in the PSB, please let me know. After a few weeks of hard work and cessation of profligate spending was getting me back in black, baby, but the Public Security Bureau has imposed a 4,500 yuan penalty for overstaying my visa. Apparently my visa was not good for sixty days as it was during my first tour of duty, but rather thirty days. There is a 500 yuan ($60) per day penalty, with a max fine of 5,000 yuan ($625). I've been working with the company that "invited" me in the first place, but they sat on the renewal until today, when I went into the office with one of the assistants. They would not budge from the 4,500 yuan penalty, which means I have to come up with $550 to flush down the PSB toilet. I support communism when it means I can get into a cab with a beer or see a young woman walk home alone at 3am without any worries of danger, but when I have pay an exorbitant fee like, for virtually nothing, well, sheeeet. I didn't really want to go home for a week over Christmas. I didn't really want to have my first six weeks in SE Asia bought and paid for. I didn't really want buy my sister or any of my friends out for New Years. I didn't really want to work anything less than 25 hours a week, every day of the week, until the end of December. I guess this is like finding my car towed on a Monday morning in San Francisco. You end up paying $500 you definately don't have, and it goes to support a rather nefarious organization. Meter maids do eat their young, as some communists do with their second born (though I still haven't found any of these restaurants).
I don't like having to worry about money. I'm not good at it. Too many people lose too much sleep over money. Having more than you need is probably more trouble than not having enough. The trick is tricking yourself into believing that you have just enough. I aspire to always be comfortable. The Jones' are a bunch of chumps, so why should I keep up with them?
So I've come across some good English here in China. At the basketball court at Xuijiahui Park, a banner stretches ten meters, proclaiming "Fitness Makes Life Better Health makes Undertakings More Brilliant. It always inspires me when I play ball there.
Mike taught me a language exercise I can do with my students: I'm not a fig plucker nor a fig plucker's son, but I'll pluck figs till the fig plucker comes home.
On the way to the PSB today, I asked Stella, the chinese girl from TRA helping me, whether she liked working at TRA Engineers. "It is job, not to like." Very true.
I like to give myself little challenges when I teach. It is a great opportunity to learn more about the people, culture and their opinions on anything. I had two women in their early thirties, and I wanted to ascertain their marital status, their opinion of their husband, and anything else that may have been impossible to learn outside of the classroom, outside of the guise of learning English. By the end of the hour I learned what the two women and their husbands usually wear to bed. The stakes will be higher next Monday...

11/04/04 - I don't have any comment on the recent political developments stateside. I don't have any comment on the pejorative opinions recently voiced by Austin Glimme and the Mormon Right. I do not have any comment on the company or the hours I hold these days. I don't have any comment on where I will be in five years, or where I was five years ago. I don't have any comment on where the English lesson went last night in Pudong. I don't have any comment on communism, even though you seem to think you will be publicly executed in Shanghai if you spit on the street, and that all the newspapers and TV stations are produced by the government. I don't have any comment on what I meant with the July 23rd entry. I don't have any comment on why I've lived in China for five months and can't ask the waiter where the bathroom is, or more importantly, make him understand. I don't have any comment on recent contributions to my IRA, the fluctuation of my 401, or how 4 more years will affect my stocks. I don't have any comment on why I am not married, do not have a car, house, any furniture, a girlfriend, health insurance that will do me any good, a tuxedo or a Netflix membership. I don't have any comment on the status of my first book. I don't have any comment on my average bedtime, average time waking up, frequency of naps and hours slept each day. I don't have any comment on why I haven't answered your email. I don't have any comment on your new armoire or Audi A4. I don't have any comment on where the debris in the Capricorn's bathroom went. I don't have any comment on my new haircut or my general malaise with facial hair, that I may or may not have. I don't have any comment on the themes and lifestyle philossophies discussed in Evasion. I don't have any comment on the last time I went to the gym, went for a run, or played any kind of organized sport. I don't have any comment on the food they were so proud to serve to me tonight. I don't have any comment on how long I might be in Shanghai, and how long I might be in Asia. I don't have any comment on the legitimacy and size of my next paycheck. I don't have any comment on my predilection towards street food, or the associative nutrional content of said food. I don't have any comment on the exact nature of my relationship with Paul Sekule, or transactions that may or may not have taken place between 1993 and 1995. Furthermore, I don't have any comment on transactions that may have iniated between people that may be connected to me through degrees of separation and Enron, Halliburton, Siemens and The Bling-Bling Grill Shop on MacArthur in downtown Oakland. I don't have any comment on your self-improvement tips cloaked in the clever guise of constructive criticism. I don't have any comment on the bags under my eyes or the blood on my shirt. I don't have any comment on how you wonder how I can be so bored in Shanghai and you can be so busy in Tempe, AZ. I don't have any comment on the people doomed to repeat history. I don't have any comment why I forgot your name or the general state of my memory. I don't have any comment on why I'm so much more accomplished that you at 28, half your age, and why my 14 year old pen pal in Madrid trumps us both with his public access VJ show. I don't have any comment why I'm not going to my 10 year reunion. I don't have any comment why I am not allowed to exit the Bay Bridge at Treasure Island. I don't have any comment why you just found a condom in my pocket and you're on the pill. I don't have any comment what happened the last time I was in Vegas, or what will probably happen the next time I am there. I don't have any comment on the veracity of statements posted on where.html, or PrivilegedLife.org in general. I don't have any comment on my speech at my going away party in March, or how much money I made that night. I don't have any comment how much time I spend online. I don't have any comment why you found me sleeping on your couch that morning, or when I will be there again. I don't have any comment why I'm wearing the same long-sleeve blue dress shirt I wore in high school, or why I paid $218 on a tuxedo shirt. I don't have any comment on fiscal responsibility, deficit spending, or the possibility that I may have put drinks on your tab again. I don't have any comment on why your husband does not like me, or more importantly, why your dogs and cats act so strange whenever I am over. Please contact my legal team, Evan Johnson and Jon Sargent, should any of the above avowals need further prevarication.

Monday, 10/26/04 - What are your thoughts on perspective and timing? I would like to be asked that question in an interview, or better yet, ask the the question to someone I am interviewing. Unfortunately the only people I am interviewing are students who need to be placed in an english level, and I can only ask revealing questions such as, "what is the date today?" and "Why do you want to learn English?". I would answer that perspective controls 90% of whether we have a good day or not, and how we affect other people's days. Perspective is linked to apathy and empathy. Apathy makes you start to wonder - what difference does it make? Apathy makes you stop giving a fuck. These can be good and bad philophies to go through life using. If I get bumped by a motorbike while I'm walking on the sidewalk, I can choose to slash their tires, or assume a more apathetic demeanor. But if I decide to stay home another night and watch Chinese soap operas again, because its all the same to me, then it might not be a healthy attitude. This entry sucks, get up from your computer and go outside.
What's it like to do century club by yourself?
Mike Krumboltz just closed on a condo in Potrero. Congrats.
I bought 10 dumplings, steamed rice, tofu, fish, two pear/apples, a banana, an apple, grapes, four ice creams, three yogurts, two green peppers, and a dozen mushrooms for about $4. That was dinner tonight - the rice, tofu and fish, chased down with a nice chocolate ice cream. I watched a few more episodes of the Sopranos, bringing my halfway through the first season. The cold, rainy weather is conducive to watching dvds, part of the laowei in Shanghai experience.

Sunday, 10/19/04 - Naughty Mouses's sms exchange, Sunday evening, after 10pm...

nm: I miss you... zhenda!
winnie: I miss you... zhenda!
nm: when will I see your beautiful smile again...
winnie: I'll come into your window midnight and you see me.
nm: I'll be watching with open arms.
winnie: Does your arms big enough?
nm: big enough for you baby.
winnie: I'm joking I'm happy to see you sometimes.
nm: maybe i'm joking but also enjoying seeing you
winnie: Yes, you're enjoyable. There are fives wolves in my room and having crab I like like a racid at corner and waterfall.
nm: I'll protect you from the wolves.
winnie: Escape wolves then into tigers arms.
nm: Who is the tiger?
winnie: Who is naughty mouse?
nm: A tiger that purrs for you.
winnie: Oh lovely tiger.

I can't make this shit up...

Thursday, 10/14/04 - Teaching in Shanghai is much more than flirting with virgin (girls), as it has been explained to me. Mike recently asked Dangerous Dave what he should do with his kids (the elementary school children he teaches) the next door. "Ignore them" Dave responded. Don't let this color your conception of teaching in Asia. Sometimes the job may be done better after a Tsingtao, sometimes you realize you're getting paid 10x the local wage to dance in front of a bunch of teenagers and just talk, and sometimes everyone in the classroom realizes that no one wants to be there, but everyone must be there. I suppose a lot of meetings in the States are like that. After ten minutes of small talk, someone asks who called the meeting, and then everyone makes sarcastic remarks and returns to their cubicles. But I wish I could learn a language the way these kids are learning English. I went from chapter to chapter in soporific German grammar books, inching along in a language as simple as the formula for cold fusion (though learning chinese is probably harder). I get to teach them Future Intention by asking if they would like to go to KTV with me tonight and sing every song from the Titanic soundtrack (god they love that here). I know they won't ask me to describe dangling participles, cause they don't want to know, and they probably know I'll make something up. If they want to learn library English, they'd enroll at Jiao Tong University. If they don't have the rmb for that, and want to learn the English spoken on the streets, they can come into my classroom and get fasttracked.
I got a call today to see if I could schlepp out to Gubei, once a week, and teach 3 (three) year olds. Did I mention the age of the students? They are three years old. Was I even speaking at 3? What am I going to do with these kids. I should note that the "students" are Japanese, so that may partially explain why they are enrolled in a language institute when they are still throwing up on their parents (who will be in the class). The class pays 20% less than other classes I'm teaching. I think I would do less "mei-ling, if I gave you 100rmb to buy pijou, which pijou would you buy?" and more "Baba black sheep...".
The Kings and Rockets are tied 81-81 with 3:18 left in the fourth. This game is dragging on, as one could expect in China --> after every quarter, during every time out, and anytime the ball gets tipped into the stands, play stops and all the cheerleaders come out and dance, the mascots fight each other, and male dancers - in Kings and Rockets jerseys of the top players. It's silly - it goes on much longer than it should, but McDonalds and Coke are directing this, not the love of the game. The Kings just put in their Chinese player for the last two minutes, even though its a one point game. He just got the ball stolen, leading to a two Houston points with 34 seconds to play. The chinese players have game, I have to say. I have height on them all, but they are faster and swarm on the person who gets the ball when they play defense. On the courts near my house, you see the typical blacktop ball. They don't travel like we do playin in the states, but they call fouls on absolutely everything. There are lots of offensive fouls. When fouls are called, everyone involved in the play takes great offense. In the States, people don't like to call nancy fouls, but here you better not brush by a defender while passing through the key. Basketball seems to be just as popular as soccer here, with NBA games selling out in seconds and soccer tickets going for two months salary.

Saturday, 10/10/04 -PrivilegedLife.org would like to recognize another amazing achievement by another amazing man - Jon Sargent - a man amongst men: "The five race series of the Tour de Flatirons concluded last night with yet another victory for Jon Sargent. He won three out of the five races and takes the overall title based on placement by one point over Buzz Burrell, who finished 3rd in the final race on Seal Rock." I was in Boulder this summer to witness one of these races. I don't think I would have been able to finish under two hours, if at all. The free climbing would have probably killed me, and if it didn't I would have broken an ankle running down the scree field. Bragging rights for the Flatiron Races are secured for Jonny Smoke for the rest of the winter. Congrats, my man...

Friday, 10/9/04 - The left earphone for my iPod earbuds does not work. We are all faced with adversity, but true greatness will always rise above it. My two favorite lines from Super Troopers with the word stink: 1) It stinks of sex in here. 2) Desperation is a stinky cologne.
I think I would like to start a corporation with the acronym BBC. Then I could introduce myself as BBC Political Espionage Expert J. Erich Geilhufe, or something crafty like that. That's one idea in the idea in the Idea Bank, next idea!
I asked Dangerous Dave's girlfriend if she thought whether or not blind people can tell if someone is good looking or not. Do they have their own angles on beauty? Could a blind man tell that Estella Warren has a very good looking face, and that girl that Mike met last week at Mural does not? She answered by telling me that the people living in the apartment we had just looked at were Japanese and very clean. Ask a riddle question, get a riddle answer. Gareth from The Office series wonders, "will there ever be a boy born who can swim faster than a shark?". These questions and more will be answered in the Tuesday, February 13, 2007 entry into Profligate Son.
When Mike asked Dave last night what he could do with his kids he had to teach tomorrow, Dave answered plainly, "ignore them", without a hint of irony. The state of English instruction in China and Asia is suspect at best. The problem lies in the for-profit motives of the programs and institutes administering the classes. They will lowball their teachers, driving talent to look elsewhere. The administration (if there is one) is not very concerned with the quality of the teaching - despite what they'll tell you. A teacher that entertains the students, and at the end of the day, gets them to return and continue paying, is a good teacher. Sometimes a babysitter is all that is needed. The director may realize that the kindergartners are not learning anything new, but he lacks the motivation to find another english teacher. Maybe the kids will pick up some useful english by watching another episode of the Simpsons, right?

Sunday, October 3, 2004 - I realize I need to improve the whole damn nav bar. Improve is an optimistic view on doing something again. Cursed standards to compete with the deluded, twisted minority that "has" (whatever that means) a website. My last site. a "pet tribute" site called mittensandoreo.org, was deemed academically puerile (whatever that means) by the sino-PRCUSA Digital Literati Alliance, and I could not "participate" in their dumb little "community". Mittens, Oreo and I had our little community, thank you very much, as is all too clear by looking at ANY of the 746 pictures I have of my favorite feline friends. [ed. note: Most of the content and writing from the above paragraph does not in any way reflect the views of any particular one person responsible for this site, PrivilegedLife Industrial Espionage Services, or the self-portrait of Sir Jay Guile at the top of this page, conceptualized and created during his "important" blue phase. It is a red herring, folks, and don't let it fool you! The entities related to this page would also like to make known their rigorous and violent objection to the use of quotation marks peppered throughout the ridiculous claims. They added by my assistant Brian in post-production. Curators must keep a close eye on sweatshop of Markhan workers, seeing to the day to day operations of the site, but some simply do not. And lastly, the editors would like reiterate that it is not their intention to add have more inches than the original paragraph, this occurs occasionally and should be seen as nothing more than a refreshing break to the end reader.]

Friday & Saturday, October 1, 2004 - A cold first of October rings in Autumn in Shanghai. I thought I would be sitting outside of Metro City, getting paid to drink beer, socialize with some Chinese students and teachers at Sun-Moon Education Group, and then begin the long day's journey into night. Twas no mid-autumn festival tonight, perhaps on account of the rain and cold weather, though I fear the purported 5 day mini-urban-festuval was only a night and a half.

I am thinking about shaving my head, which I think is a great idea, just as I think getting on a freight train with no known direction or destination is a great idea. The fact that it is premeditated takes some of the fun out of it, but I'm confident things will take care of themselves at 5am or 10am one of these mornings. I am also confident that I would look quite bad with a shaved head, but live and let die, I don't have to look presentable for anyone, let alone good. I'll keep my eyebrows the way they are. Marky mark my words, if Stallone beats Schwarzenneger in 2008, I'll shave my head and ride freight trains for a few days; and you can take that to the bank, nancy nancy naysayer...

I wish it were not October yet. I feel like September was another blink of the eye monato. For better or for worse. This is the case for most months for most people, and I should appreciate the favorable circumstances that have marked the ninth month of second thousand and fourth year of our Lord. A lot has been said about perspective and appreciation, and though I lack both when it comes to art, I aspire to maintain high standards in these two noble avenues as I continue uncontested through my twenties. Incidentally, I just found that I'm a year older. When one leaves California and flies to China, s/he loses one day and one year. Once you celebrate your 28th birthday, you must then begin telling people you are 29. You effectively lose a year and a day that can never be made up. Unless, of course, you fly back to California.

There is a cafe on Polk and Clay in San Francisco. It shares the same name, logo and management as one other restaurant - The Rendevous Cafe. The last time I flew from Shanghai to San Francisco, I left downtown Shanghai around 10:30am and arrived at SFO around 9am, the same day. So, all you physicians, riddle me this: how I can eat a breakfast of eggs, bacon, potatoes, toast and coffee at the same restaurant at the same time on the same day and be six thousand miles away? Yes, the same answer; the laws of physics do not apply to me.
I think this would be a great human interest piece for both the San Francisco Chronicle and the Shanghai Daily. Good publicity for the two restaurants, but more importantly, I bet I could get a free breakfast out of the deal. At the very least, it could be a decent filler think piece for the Priv. Journalistic standards aside, I think its worth a shot. Look for something titled The Rendevous Effect - a study in simultaneous spatial co-existence, or How I Ate Eggs and Bacon at Two Places at the Same Time. Ok, I think this topic has been exhausted.
Back to the perspective/appreciation arguments. I don't know what the trick is to tricking yourself into thinking that things are going well, and you have good reason to be happy. The grass does tend to be greener on the other side - even when things are going well, you look over your fence at your neighbor's yard, see him and his swinger set into another toga party, and you become envious and insecure. There will always be a long list of things we do not have and want, things we think we should be doing but are not, and an artificially high standard of success that we simply will never achieve. Consumerism begets a child's greed in us - getting a 5.1 MP camera does not bring us the final happiness we thought it would - there is a newer iPod that just came out, and your neighbor just got a 2005 Audi. Oh well, good fences make good neighbors, thats my motto, come what may. So what lesson can we learn from this hypocritical sermon? Raise your glass and toast the wonderful little things in your life that make life worth living. Tis nothing wrong with striving for things better, but you need to stop every now and then and revel in the simple pleasures that exist around you. So, my friends, I pmplore you! Turn off your computer now and go join your swinging neighbor's toga party!

Thursday, September 23, 2004 - Treadmills are not my forte. I get nervous on them, as if there is a very real possibility that my shoelace will snag in the tread, get caught, and suck me into the machine somewhere. I also have only two or three feet of width to run on. Although I am a distance runner, I do not possess an efficient, confined running style. I run like I'm on a curvaceous trail run, leaning into banked corners and varying my stride, foot strike and pace wildly. On a treadmill you just have to stay somewhere near the very middle, and it is quite boring. There is a building to look at across the little road. Yesterday there was a man mowing the lawn with hand shears. It was interesting to compare his progress against the little clock, and the red dots that signified my progress around the track. 30 minutes felt like much longer, and for some reason 10 kph was too fast for my taste. Next time I'm wearing roller blades.
Shanghai is a war zone, but in the rebuilding phase. It is one large construction site of 12 million people, 40,000 cabs and at least 10 million bicycles, most of which are on the roads during the majority of daylight hours. It is loud here, and to breath the air is to smoke deeply on your low grade cigarette. The City takes on another personality at night - and especially early morning - when the streets are empty, the humidity has dropped, and the noise pollution is minimized. This is the time I like to be out. If it were up to me, I'd run on 8 hours of sunlight - 11-7pm, 8 hours of nighttime - 7pm - 3am, then sleep for 8 hours. I suppose it is up to me, but employment might have something to say about that. Something about sleeping late being good for your constitution, but there are beastie boys euphemisms for everything.

I just watched Michael Moore's Fahrenheit 911 for the first time. I have mixed feelings on this sort of political propaganda, as any embittered documentary filmmaker can string together some old video, interview 100 people to get 3 people that say what he wants them to say, and produce a vitriolic diatribe on why this regime is so bad. Every president is always doing a very good job or a very bad job, depending on who you ask. These people do not often change their opinions. I recognize Moore to be a muckraker, but he did have a lot of good points. I'm curious to see what happens this campaign season, and wish that the Republicans and Bush would run their wars the way they run their campaigns. God save us.

Wednesday, September 22, 2004 - I lost Monday night, somewhere in between Hawaii and Tokyo, and even managed to get to bed 12 hours late. The travels have played their usual clever ruse with my internal clock/radio. It's not that hard to fool them, fortunately. I don't usually like to exist in an exhausted state for days. My sentences get half-finished, my eyes lazily stare unfocused on far away objects, and I devolve into the taciturn pensiveness of a New England fisherman. Your only hope when faced with the task of crossing 15 time zones in 12 hours is to commit yourself to the local schedule. Go to bed at 2pm and you'll suffer for weeks. Feed yourself caffeine, fresh air and local food to keep yourself going until midnight. Sometime the world even looks more interesting when you're extremely tired.

I'm trying hard not to fall into habits of olde when the stakes were lower and the game was just beginning. The time for dead reckoning has passed, and I've realized that another destiny knocks on my door. I hope to hear him though - in Shanghai there are construction knocks on all the walls at all hours, so you have to be wary of these potential knocks .Thomas Wolfe tells us to Look Homeward, Angel.

Tuesday, September 7, 2004 - Nicole Conte put together quite an interesting cocktail mix, kudos. We're all here watching maniatv at Scott's bachelor bungalow. I brought back a few bottles of vodka from Kyrgyzstan, and we're sipping off one now. One imploded on the trip back from Kashgar to Shanghai, another landed in my favorite DJ's (Chiara) hand's , and the final we're disposing of in proper fashion tonight. It has a hint of lemon, but otherwise it's a lot smoother than I anticipated. I'm not much of a voodkah drinker, especially when I try and sip it russian style, but it mixes well with red bull and I appreciate the saturation properties it has when applied properly to watermelon. Brian, the editor of a small zine that lives upstairs here, joined us tonight to discuss the finer points of relationships and the lack thereof, life as we know it in New york City, and why Native Americans should actually be called Indians. As he explains, Christopher Columbus did indeed name these heathens Indians, but not because he thought he was in the West Indies or even India. He found a veritable Garden of Eden, with naked natives living with nature. They were extremely welcoming and generous, so he termed the people "in dios", or In God. Brian is half Cherokee, calls himself and Indian, and explains further that people on reservations in the SW will also call themselves Indians, as opposed to Native Americans. To each his own. On a similar note, Mike Pointer taught me how to instruct a Shanghai taxi driver to drive straight ahead - to-each-his-o...
So I was walking down Hyde street in San Francisco and came across this sign

at California St. I don't understand it. Can anyone assist? I consider myself a reasonably intuitive person, although I often have a hard time discerning the intent of product marketing. It has something to do with going to Vegas, but I'm a bit ignorant, as usual.
While we're adding some pictures, here are some from my homeboy Geo Siambis, my correspondent who covered the Games in Athens. I animated a progression of pics, because I evidently don't have a life and think a night of animating gifs is tough to beat. I also prefer to read the source code for web pages rather than see the actual site. Click on the pic for the full version.

Wednesday, September 2, 2004 - History repeats itself. And you know this. You can predict it before it all even begins to begin, and know that you are powerless to do anything about it. It will leave you jaded, and it will weaken you for the next time. Like NIN of high school days, "I know what's coming to me, and it comes to me as no surprise." So why do we continue on further down the spiral? Why do we knowingly make the same disastrous mistakes and beget the vicious circle? How can we be so smart and yet so stupid? Maybe the smartest thing to do is avoid the situation and accept your fate. Be it politics, love, crime, or career, we cannot change our nature, and as clever as we think we are, there are some mistakes that we will not be able to learn from. If you can identify these, and at least have the prescience to accept it beforehand, you'll be in much better shape. But now I'm getting redundant.

Tuesday, September 1, 2004 - Today is my grandmother's birthday, but she died two years ago. Happy Birthday Mutti. I'm back from travels and back to my usual hopscotch around the Bay trying to stay in trouble. Berkeley, San Francisco, Mill Valley, Danville - it don't matter. Lined up some freelance web design and a market research group. I wish I could line up focus groups

Monday, August 23, 2004 - News goes from bad to worse, as it often does. When it rains, it shall pour. Mary Thomas and I often reveled over the cruel twists that the fate circle offers. This was back in the days of senior year at MVHS when we didn't really go to school that much and just laid on the grass at the Provo Hideout. It's nice to take a few mornings to just watch the clouds slowly go by and contemplate the intricacies of something as intricate as a fate circle. Basically, the fate circle is a circle of your fate, and when things are going well, you're close to the top of your fate circle. Unfortunately, the higher you go, the lower you can go. Always beware the vicissitudes, the acmes and nadirs, the ides of March. That's tough when you're born during the ides, and you live your life taking big risks that can put you a big leap north or a big leap south of the middle of your fate circle. Not to say I'm at the south pole right now, or that I was at the north pole a few days or weeks or months ago, be wary of bad news and bad omens, dear readers, that's all I'm saying. And don't ask me again why I have two daily blogs. I don't have even one blog, and I don't care to make the distinction between this and where. What is it that affects our fate. Can our luck change if we do a good deed, or is it more affected by the previous runs of good and bad luck? Should I expect bad news, bad luck, and bad joss if something very fortuitous happens? I don't think there is any rule of threes, but when good luck and bad run, it often doesn't change very quickly. I'm still trying to figure out what I can do to end bad luck, start good luck, and keep good luck coming. Any ideas?
I like the term "morally bankrupt". I don't necessarily like what it means or aspire to become morally bankrupt, but I like the idea that one can declare a bankruptcy on something like morals.
I don't know what the big deal is with the low-carb diet. I think its just another way for people to trick themselves into believing they are on a diet, and therefore will lose weight soon, even though they are still eating bacon and burgers and other stuff that can't be good ways of losing weight. Whatever helps you sleep at night though.
I think my theory of encapsulation might be tied to the fate circle, somehow. Encapsulation is the theory that explores the choose-your-own-adventure perspective. Basically, whenever we contemplate a choice, we are consciously and unconsciously considering the consequences and particulars of that choice. Sometimes we don't really think about it though. These range from taking a different way home from work to applying for a job to deciding to go to a place like China. Encapsulation takes this a step further, when you are actually able to see the dramatic effect a simple decision has on your life. If you do decide to email a resume to a friend who works at a company, you may presage the next month, the next year - or more - and see what your life would be like if affairs continued on a semi-predictable path. Hmm, this topic seems beyond the scope of profligate. Maybe an essay topic.

Saturday, August 21, 2004 - The decision to flee came suddenly. Or at least it would have, given the ominous turn of events I found myself in. Enough of that, I suppose I should lock all of that away in the vault and deprive my privileged readers of some of the resounding insights I have on the machinations of life as we know it in this year of our Lord, two thousand and four. Gasp! A spartan hotel room is my sanctuary tonight. This safe-house was a gift, of sorts, from someone who could not make it to the City of Angels tonight. C' est la vie said the old folks. Shanghai looms on the horizon, a mythical Shangri-La under a rising sun. The sun rises and falls in Shanghai, but the difference is you're awake for both. It's nice to have that strange land where one can be a stranger. Hold your gut and relish the stink-eye. Walk tall and be proud that this oyster waits to discovered, should the planets align yet again. Oh well, whatever, nevermind. Deltron spins on the tv, somehow, and an evening solitude has settled on the San Pedro Harbor - only a few meters from my window. BAMBOLEO.

Friday, August 20, 2004 - Evening creeps at Case de la Dieter in North Hollywood. A loft, in a condo, at what could only be Melrose Place. Drinks at the Fox and the Hound revealed an unexpected So Cal scene - something resembling Berkeley on a busy Thursday night. The name Hollywood conjures up so many romantic imaginations for so many people, I suppose I should be a bit crestfallen I didn't see any up and coming B actors and actresses. I don't make any excuses for dropping in on old and new friends and inquiring what people are up to in their neighborhood. There are few things more important than keeping old friends, and the price is rarely too high. Yet, every now and then, it becomes necessary to redefine your alliances and prejudices and move some fences. I feel like I would be out of luck talking to the LA women here, that the game is different than San Francisco and solar systems away from the scene in Shanghai. Shanghai still seems like a dream where you find yourself running around with a bunch of slightly recognizable strangers; then you wake up and wonder what exactly happened, but will never be able to answer it. You get a deja vu of teaching English and drinking beer in class while the students are singing hymns to the chinese communist anthem. You can't understand the words, but neither can they.

There is a big funeral in downtown LA today. They are commemorating the first female firefighter to die in the line of duty. She was not killed in a fire, she was run over by a fire truck.

Friday, August 13, 2004 - Julia Childs is dead. The Queen of the old-skool french cooking school has fallen this morning in Santa Barbara, Ca. Once asked what her ideal meal would be, she responded "red meat and a bottle of gin". She would be 92 this weekend. Friday the 13th rears its ugly head as we push further into the tenth hour of the 225th day of the year of our Lord, 2004. This low-laying marine layer continues to make my San Francisco summer a Mark Twain winter. If Willie Brown were still in office, he would feel my pain and seek an expensive resolution with some weather altering company. The taxpayers would not hear anything about it until it was done, and the Board of Directors would be up in arms that they were not consulted. The Bay Guardian would write vitriolic articles because due process was not considered and they could not get any paperwork on it. Bay Area press and their precious Sunshine Act. It's a great idea, in theory, but we don't live in a theoretical world.
Kirsten should be having her going away/birthday/just quit work party tomorrow night, but either I haven't been invited down to San Luis Obispo or she's going to have an impromptu beach rave. The star power I used to lend to these sort of things has waned a bit of late, sad to say. My decision not respond to the allegations that I am a charlatan, a maudlin, a poof and a trychnophobe may have been ill-fated. I still have the reputation of storming parties I have not been invited to late at night, taking Casper shots of the 40's and grabbing the mic. Every now and then my Young MC rhymes find their audience, but usually it is a disaster on the level of Gigli.
On a more upbeat note, I plan to get out on the kayak for a run over to Aquatic Park in a few minutes. It's cold and windy, as usual, but the controls have been set for the sun. I haven't been out for a little while, but whenever I get out on the water I am very happy I did so and wonder why it was so hard to put on the wetsuit and zinka and shove-off. I wish I could get into the habit of doing an Alcatraz loop every morning. That would be a much better work-out than lifting five pound weights (on each arm sucka) while looking at myself wearing only short running shorts in the mirror. I'd like to be able to listen to tunes, but the possibility of getting overturned by a whale, shark, or freighter is just too high. I read that there is some technology that allows lap swimmers to listen to music through a special waterproof walkman, but I haven't heard any more on this. I would think that the pool could also install some underwater speakers and play the same bad music that is being played in the gym.
I got dropped off at Pier 39 last night around 11pm and had the privilege of seeing a medium-speed car chase. There were about 15 SFPD chasing this guy. He took beach and the cops tried to cut him off down by Ghiradelli Square, near as I can tell. Kathy and I joined the chase, and saw cops racing up the Bay Street Hill. I'm sure the guy got away, as do most car chases in the City. Kathy and I were discussing how fun it would be to lead the cops on a high speed chase through the City - like a video game - if you had the ability to turn yourself invisible once you finally stopped. I suppose you would have to drive naked, because it would probably be pretty hard to make your clothes invisible as well. It would be good fun slipping away from the scene and watching the cops pound on their hoods - Foiled Again! I would get a SF Examiner photographer to be at a certain place at a certain time for some good shots. I don't really have anything against the SFPD, but, don't forget, a mutant is very dangerous to you, because he flies faster than you, and shoots at you. At least that is what is reported on the new Beasties album. Not bad, eh?

Thursday, August 5, 2004 - Technically it is Thursday, mountain time. Hip-hop is alive and well in Boulder, CO. Jedi Mind Tricks, Lil Jon, 7L & Esoteric, Ice Cube, Public Enemy, N.W.A., $0.50, among others. "You did it again!", Snoop said. Ken just left to pick up Evan and Jill, four hours later than expected but some things and some people are worth the wait. It's a Pabst Blue Ribbon night, as well as Myer's rum, my favorite rum for those keeping score. Boulder is a slice of Berkeley mixed with incurable outdoor sports nuts and a little Santa Barbara for style points. The sports here are not like sports in Texas or New York or California. Everyone owns a bike and skies and still finds time to climb every other day. To be out of shape is like being out of work with no artistic talents in New York City. To be out of work here means you're doing something right, but only if you can still exist in this over-priced enclave. Maybe everything is overpriced after Shanghai and Kashgar. Maybe I've realized that I'm out of shape, have no money, no bike or skies and no artistic talents but still manage to show up on scene on time with my shoulder dropped and a box of beats and prayer flags in tote. Get me on the court and I'm trouble, get me in your game and I represent. I might not ball and I might not look good but I'll tax you, holmes, I'll tax you cause I represent you. I don't quite know what that means, but I'm sure you will.
So the weekend starts here, with the krew arriving piecemeal, liquor purchased and scams schemed. Climbs planned and girls banned until the Bus Stop opens. Uppers, downers, screamers, laughers the cupboards are stocked and guests are finishing their cigarettes outside before they put their game face on and knock on the door.

Wednesday, August 4, 2004 - Even though we're leaving 15 minutes later, we're only getting in 4 minutes later - "so we're gonna try and make up that time in the air". I wish I could "make up" time that easily at other times in my life. It's like a class project I am working on with a few other students - "Well folks we apologize for that delay back there - it looks like we are about two weeks behind schedule, but when we get up in the air we're gonna try and make up that time." My editors are going to have to rework that bit. While they're at it, please rework this - If it wasn't for the sex, I don't think I would mind too much being gay. I mean, its just hanging out with your buddies, right? Getting some dinner, drinks, maybe watching some sports, then crashing at their place? I'm not in good enough shape to be gay though.

Friday, July 23, 2004 - I was somewhere to the left of the Good Life. Or maybe to the right, it can be hard to tell. Some song like "In this World" was playing. I knew it to be the Shining Light Gospel Choir. It sounded like a Sunday morning gospel song ~ Lordie don't leave me, all by myself. I stepped out onto the crowded sidewalk, the taste of good Merlot still strong in my mouth. Cool, refreshing thick summer air flowed down from the water diagonally into the City. A summer breeze originating over water and descending from the fog can only really be appreciated after experiencing the suffocating humidity of South-east Asia or Central America in the summer. I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. People walked by me without noticing me. I imagined the camera panning 360 degrees, then the overhead shot would slowly escalate as the rising organ music hits a crescendo.
Something was wrong, something was missing. I had no idea of knowing what, but the fear was growing. I knew that I would find out soon. It was the feeling of trepidation you experience in dreams - something life-altering has occurred -but you can't focus on what it is or the varying degrees of consequence. Every few scenes in this dream you return to the nervous apprehension and wonder for a moment what life will be like from now on. I stepped out of this daydream and returned to my seat by the window. Five or six people were seated at the table around me. People seemed to be coming and going, I was underdressed, judging by the haute couture attire and the expensive looking watches and jewelry. A man with well-groomed gray hair was talking. Everyone laughed at something he said, but he noticed I had my attention focused the street.
"Well you're the resident expert on Vietnam," he said to me, "can you really buy them in the street markets?"
"I've never been to Vietnam," I lied.
I took a slow sip of the red wine and finished my glass. I prepared myself to leave again, this time for good, when a woman approached our table and apologized for being late. With her came the same summer breeze I had experienced outside, but this time warmer. She held my gaze for an extra second, something that has always disarmed me and at the same time put me on guard. I did not know where I knew her from, but in her look I knew that she knew me. She was dressed very simply but very beautifully. A long summer dress extended to her ankles. She wore a large white hat that complimented the subtle floral print on her dress. Big blue eyes reminded me of Australia, and I thought I noticed an accent of some kind - native English but a British, South African or Australian accent. Whenever I tried to guess to myself where people with British accents might be from I was usually wrong. I watched the expression of one of the women at the table. Women in suits do not usually look up to women in summer dresses, but there are always exceptions. The two women exchanged words in a patronizing manner. They knew each other better than most of us knew, I concluded.
After an awkward silence the man in gray asked our new guest, "So do you think the good doctor was right about our good friend here?"
All eyes turned to me. I remained expressionless, looking at all of them without making eye contact.
"I think that William knows what's best for himself," she replied.
William did not sound familiar, but they seemed to be talking about me.
"Did you enjoy your time away? You've been gone much longer than anyone expected, especially considering the state you left your affairs in."
All I could think of was the Church of John St. Coltrane, an African Orthodox church I had gone to years ago. It was on Divisadero street in San Francisco, but it had since moved. I remembered there had been protests and marches regarding the church and its location and people who liked and disliked the church. There were several haunting portraits of John Coltrane inside the original one room church. One identified the jazz musician as John "Will I Am" Coltrane, as his middle name was William.
They seemed to be waiting for me to answer someone's question.
"Life is what happens when you're making plans," I said. It was from a Beatles song, or maybe it was just a John Lennon quote that had been in my head all day, or so I felt.
I was beginning to feel that this was the wrong response to a question everyone wanted answered, but the gray haired man suddenly interjected.
"Truer words may never have spoken. And on that note, I would like to make a toast. I believe the Russians always first toast new and old friends. Although that tradition may be reserved for drinking vodka, I think its appropriate considering who we have around the table. So, to friends, may time never detract from our friendships, only add to them."
"To Friends!" everyone said through big fake smiles.
I lifted up my empty wine glass but it did not meet any other glasses. I could feel the woman watching me, piercing me with her eyes. I was vulnerable, I was feeling sick and nervous, and I knew that if my eyes met hers she would know everything. For a moment I felt like I knew what was wrong and I wanted to return her appeals. I wanted to risk looking over and see her reveal a small, crooked smile at me, but I could not risk the opposite. The wine, the cigarette smoke, my empty stomach - all this contributed to my growing uneasiness about what was transpiring. I wanted to excuse myself silently and leave, go out to the sidewalk and breath deep the gathering twilight. Walk down to the piers and walk all the way to the river. But I knew that events had been occurring for some time, and their culmination would be soon be upon me.
My glass had been refilled and I drank deeply. I took solace in the gray haired man's black turtleneck. It seemed too tight to me, something that men who wore suits Monday through Thursday might wear on Friday. It was a welcome distraction to the incredible anxiety I was feeling.
"Fear of abandonment and fear of commitment actually compliment each other very well."
I did not know the man who said this, but I knew he was a psychologist or a psychiatrist. Doctors like him were usually psychiatrists- they would not go to all the trouble of becoming a shrink if they could not have the power of prescribing drugs. I listened to what he was saying, but his first sentence resonated inside of me, weakening my willpower and my resolve to last through the meal.
I did not know if we had not yet ordered dinner, or if we had already eaten. I looked back outside to three teenagers getting into a car. It looked like they had turned on music very loud, as they seemed to all start dancing in their seats at once. I had often wondered at what age in my life I would return to if I were given the choice. If I could go back to when I was 8 or 17 or 30 and continue my life knowing what I know now, how far back should I go, and would I be in worse shape than I was already in? I knew that if I could, I would immediately return to when I was their age and jump in the car with the three kids. If I were outside right now I would probably try and jump in their car regardless, but I knew I would be going in the wrong direction.
I knew what was coming to me, and it came to me as no surprise.

Sunday, July 18, 2004 - BART needs to have a dining car. I want to be able to get in for my 40 minute ride, order a cognac and a big cigar, and work wirelessly. Is this so unreasonable? Make it a VIP car if you need to. The United States exists on a class structure - this is no Mao's dystopic China or communism in the USSR, this is darwinistic capitalism. Supply and the Man, where $$ talks and bullshit walks. I've been meaning to update the privacy policy on the Priv to include something the clearly declares that the views and opinions expressed on privilegedlife.org are not necessarily the views of the site, the deft and brave writers, or Jonathan Geilhufe. That should absolve me of any libel and liability, right? Still might need to check with legal on that. I'm looking forward to the day that Jon Sargent and Evan Johnson are practicing law so they can say things like "as your attorney I advise you to pull over and go swimming in that river." I can get their opinion on matters like this disclaimer matter and they can translate it into legalese. I still think my best bet, legally, is plausible deniability. Walnut Creek stop coming up.

Wednesday, July 14, 2004 - I am surrounded by Italian people, speaking Italian, drinking Italian coffees, eating Italian panini sandwiches, reading Italian newspapers. There is a non-Italian playing some sort of piccolo-mini-plucky guitar. I'm in Caffe Puccini, in North Beach, more tired than I should be but drinking coffee. Outside it is summer in San Francisco. Summer here is much different than summer in the rest of California. The fog has already burned off and it is close to hot here. I plan to work a bit here, then head over to Washington Square for some much needed R&R. I think it makes me feel better about having not going to work or doing something boring like that when I see so many people on vacation around this part of San Francisco. The Financial District might bug me out. I guess its part of the culture shock that I can expect. Teaching in Shanghai is not even really a job, its more of a fun thing you go to to see what happens next and who comes to class. You don't have to go if you really don't feel like it, but if you have a good arrangement its a better idea to go to class than see who's at the Kiwi.
I've seen the words "An Historic" a few places. Grammaticians, what's the rule on this? I would say A Historic, but my English is more on the Chinglish side of the linguistic two-headed snake.
So does anyone else realize how strange San Francisco is, in terms of all the people living there speaking different languages and creating an environment that more closely resembles their homeland? It's as if the whole identity of San Francisco is comprised non-native Californians who have developed their neighborhoods into mini-Italies (my assistant Brian will correct this grammar later), mini-Chinatowns, mini-Japantowns, mini-Russias, and mini-Mexicos. Kinda cool. Interesting how people here in the City don't even realize it, and people that live in China - and many other countries - would never believe it.
I went for a nice sail with Andrew and Bea yesterday. I hadn't been out on their boat since the run out to the Farallons, but we had a nice few hours circumnavigating Angel Island. Good wind, had their boat up to 8.3 knots. The summer marine layer burned off by 1pm, so I was happy to see some sun over the water. We heard there was a Cat overturned off the NE side of Angel, and went to investigate. There was a small cat with a guy on the mast trying to right it. We heckled him and threw our empties at him, but then we saw the Coasties on their way and high-tailed it out of there. I was Helmsman most of the time - I need another 268 hours to get my Helmsman badge though.

Monday, July 12, 2004 - Why do I always make additions to profligate on Mondays? Well, I'm back in SF. Some sort of homecoming. It's strange to come back here after trekking all over China, but it helps me to recognize the good and bad of these two countries. It's interesting to note what each country does better and worse than the other. I really wish that SF had restaurants that you could go to, where you order a dozen different vegetables, meats, seafoods, and stuff you don't know what it is, get free beer, and pay $3. I wish people in China drove better and stopped for pedestrians. Here people don't cross busy streets one lane at a time, like frogger. I wish San Francisco had people on particular streets advertising apartments and rooms to rent for tonight, from $5 to $50. There have been many nights I'd pay $10 for a nice two-bedroom apartment to bring my friends to. But this isn't Almaty, Kazakhstan. I wish I could go to a cafe in Shanghai in China and get a large cup of coffee - almost a pint - for $1.50 and sit, listen to jazz, work online through a wireless internet, then go outside to a nice park like Washington Square. Starbucks is close to this - and only a block from where I live in SH, but Caffe Roma in North Beach sets a high standard.
Does anyone have a cell phone they want to sell to me cheap? I need one for a few months.
Does anyone have a car they need driven? I need one for a few months.
Does anyone have some easy, high-paying, low effort employment in San Francisco they need taken care of? I'm your man.
I feel like a man in limbo. I am homeless, I have no money, I have no job, no car, no phone, no girlfriend, no plans, and no pot to piss in, so to speak. I guess all of this is a good thing, if you're looking at it with a certain perspective. That's the perspective I usually have, fortunately.
Clack told me something interesting yesterday afternoon, "If the death penalty makes the state a murderer, life in prison makes the state a gay dungeonmaster." What do you have to have to say about that, Michael Muckraker Moore?

Monday, July 05, 2004 – Ay yay yay. I’m a wee bit hung over from the melee last night, but at least I have a flight home to look forward to - no shared taxis, no buses, no trains, just a smooth flight that I can hopefully sleep on. My editors will have to rework that last fragment. It’s always a bit sad to end a trip and head back to wherever home is, but all good things come to an end. I was bummed to leave some good mates in Kashgar, and was even more bummed when I could not get the connecting flight back to Shanghai - an entire day wasted. But then, as often happens traveling, Roger arrived and soon we were drinking wine and talking about adventures with the Taliban and the Pakistani prison diet. That sounds like a marketable diet, but no one likes eating only lentils. My time is too valuable to lose a day like this, but now I feel like a had an adventure to quantify my second stay here in Ürümqi. My time is so valuable, sometimes I cannot stop to pick up a $5 bill. Sometimes even a $10 bill. The Phoenix Foundation, a private think-tank that has been doing some efficiency analysis for me, released a report to me that outlined all these findings. I’m not sure of the math behind it, but that’s their job, not mine.
Is Kerry announcing Michael Moore as his running mate? God save us all.
Last night while watching the football final I kept yelling "What’s the matter with Ronaldo? HE’S A BUM!". The Chinese peeps liked it.
New articles on the Priv! - The Silence of the Lambs
Observations and Deconstructions
and The Ten Immutable Laws of Traveling. These immutable laws will probably change when I take another look at them on my Shanghai flight.
Time to get one last good Xinjiang meal and find a taxi that will take me to the airport for 25 yuan...

Monday, June 28, 2004 – Kyrgyz trekking is the bomb explosive. These are some of the most beautiful mountains I’ve been in in a long time. Tibet is awe-inspiring and all that, but it’s nice to be back below tree-line where there is thick green grass covering all the valleys and hillsides, but also snowcapped peaks all the way down the China-Kyrgyzstan border. There are only two roads going through into China for several hundred miles, and I’ve heard reports of unclimbed 7,000 meter peaks all the way down to K2. My mouth waters. It’s nice to be somewhere in spring, when the weather is perfect and there are wildflowers and kumys, fermented mare’s milk. I have quite a tale to tell of the sheep slaughtering. It’s written, just need to transcribe it into the site, which requires thirty minutes at an internet cafe, which I don’t have. Patience, patience said the man. On that note, I have to depart prematurely, out like the fat kid in dodge ball (that’s weaselboy)...

Wednesday, June 23, 2004 – This doesn’t look like Central Asia. I thought everyone was supposed to be living in tents made out of wildebeast or yak fur, shooting each other with Karishnakovs if there are no wolves around to shoot. I thought there would be old wise men smoking hookahs in the street. I just learned that in Iran, as of Monday smoking hookahs will be illegal. Apparently the men and women are fraternizing a bit, and this will end the so called flirting. The women seem to do most of the work in Central Asia, I’m not sure what the men do. No one wants us to know that these Central Asian cities ’ most noticeably Almaty and it’s younger brother Bishkek (just across the border in Kyrgyzstan) – are very nice cities that any of us could happily live in. They have more going for them than most American cities, and if you come over with some USD, you’ll be king for a long time. Plus, you get to raise the brows of your foreigner friends who wonder how you’re getting along in this hardship post. I’m not making any moves, but I wouldn’t mind working here or in Bishkek for a few months. I’d be speaking russian and driving a black mercedes and intimidating local businesses after a few weeks though.
So a lot of us want to know who is going to be running the country next year when a crazed Texas ex–postal worker takes out Kerry. My vote is for Sylvester Stallone, as the Demos need someone to stand up to Arnold when he overturns Section one of Article II of the U.S. Constitution. I think we have a Rocky V sequel in the works. Short of sly I’ll take my chances with Edwards.

Wednesday, June 16, 2004 – I thought Shaquille learned how to throw free throws? I guess it would be unfair to blame the career 53% FT shooter for the abysmal performance of the Lakers. I didn’t even have any loyalties in this game, as I don’t really like the Lakers, and the Pistons are just a bunch of punks. The Lakers have won enough Finals lately, and Shaq has 3 MVP trophies, so...
I am getting to enjoy my nightly dinner of BBQ meats and breads. I have slowly been learning how to order up the good shit at Chinese restaurants, now I’m faced with the task of learning Ulger (not sure what I should be calling this language, is it Arabic?), and tomorrow I will have to begin speaking Russian. I thought the U.S. strong-armed the UN into declaring English the language of the world? And not British english, and especially not incomprehensible drunken Scottish english, which is closer to a mix of Gaelic and Arabic. We’ll see how difficult it is for me to order my bacon double western cheeseburger in Kazakhstan.
The Onion has an intriguing article reporting how the 9/11 Commission may have been prevented.That’s all for now folks, wish me luck getting into the 'stans..

Tuesday, June 15, 2004 – The only bright spot to me killing an entire week in this desert crossroads town is that I found a top–notch internet cafe very close to my hotel. It’s not really set up for foreigners – gamers really, because when I come in they ask me if I have a card, which they know I don’t, then they sigh and act like they’re not sure what to do, then they just lead me to an open computer. All the computers are very new, and when you hit the keys on the keyboard, the right key shows up on the screen. The chairs are some of the best I’ve encountered in my Asian internet cafe experiences. Five stars to Wanglian Information. I’m going to watch the NBA game tomorrow morning. I think it’s on around 9am here, which will have to push back my trip to the consulate. I am getting a little cabin fever being pent up in this city while I should be building an army with Ryan Brush in KZ. Patience, patience said the man, what’s another day?

Monday, June 14, 2004 – Well, I was unable to "intimate" the exigency of my visa situation to the KZ consulate, effectively at least. I had the guy at least contemplating giving me same day service. He passed the buck to Almaty, in true beaurocratic fashion. "Oh, I thought you were the manager here, I’m sorry. I thought you were the manager here, is there someone else I should talk to. At least I don’t have to wait a week. A few more daze here in Ürümqi, then on to the ’stans.

I missed the NBA playoff game this morning for the consulate visit, but I hope I can see some of the game on Tuesday. Am I the only one who wants to see the Lakers and the Yankees square off in a football match? I don’t get a lot of baseball coverage, but its nice to see my A’s and Giants holding tough in first and second place. I look forward to following them lose in the playoffs in usual dramatic fashion. What’s on your dinner table tonight? Shish’kebabs and flatbread for me, washed down with cold Wusu beer. Can you dig it?

FACT: At any given time, there are 65.2 million chinese males between the ages of 6 and 29 playing Counter-Strike in smoky Internet cafes around China. I think China has the largest and best trained army in the world, even if it’s only a virtual war they can fight. I wouldn't want to be Taiwan in a year.

Sunday, June 13, 2004– Making slow progress out of China and out of Ürümqi. The beaurocrats at the Kazakhstani Consulate closed their office on Friday – not in President Reagan’s honor, but just to make sure they don’t work more than 4 hours a day, four days a week. I’m going in tomorrow morning with severe intent in getting a same day visa. I don’t think I’ll have any problem intimating that it’s my world, and they only live in it.

The disco last night was a riot. It was not a bad club, actually, and for some reason there were at least a half dozen Carlsberg beers on each table, open and unopened. I may have accidentally picked up the wrong (full) beer when setting down my (empty) beer once or twice. The crowd was entirely chinese and Ulgher people, except for me and the Swiss girl who was enjoying all the attention from tucked–in–shirts chinese men. I was still feeling a bit hungover, so I just watched most of the time I was there. They stopped the music at one point and some of the in–house dancers came out and did skits and short dances. They had some sort of raffle that everyone was getting excited about – they were giving away pens and lighters. I got a Carlsberg lighter from a nice Chinese man at my table. They eventually put on the bad techno music and the DJ continued to interrupt every song with his rap–style singing and YOYOYOYO. Comedy. The chinese men cannot dance, even more so than your average white guy. All this being said, it was a fun Saturday night at a Chinese disco.

I ate dinner at a great Ulgher restaurant. I walked in with the swiss girl and the place was packed – I think it was a wedding or something. Anyways, the only table they had available was on the stage, next to the drummer and other performers. As a laowei (foreigner) in China, I might as well be seated at a table onstage, for all the attention that I often get. I don’t mean to be an arrogant American, I just wonder if they would have seated a couple Han Chinese people at that table. Hmm, its 8:00, and it will be time for dinner here in a few hours. Off into a nice sunday evening in Ürümqi.

Tuesday, June 8, 2004 – Far from the maddening crowds, or at least I will be soon enough. I’ll be confined to a train for over two days tonight, leaving Shanghai tonight at 8pm and arriving around midnight, two days later, into Ürümqi. Ürümqi does not have a very prominent international reputation, other than being the furthest city in the world from the ocean. Shanghai is supposed to only be a few kilometers from the ocean, but I have never been there, never seen it, never seen any evidence of it, so I might as well be one town away from Ürümqi. Ürümqi is difficult to spell, even more difficult to say. I’ve tried saying it to Chinese people and they don’t understand me. The umlauts are tough – not quite german. In Ürümqi I’ll be able to get a Kazakstani visa, hopefully in a day, but probably in 3 days or more. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to get a train out today, which gets me into Ürümqi on Thursday night. I’ll have to spend the weekend there waiting, but there is a place called Heavenly Pool a few hours outside of town, in the mountains, where I can hike around and stay in a Kazakstani yurt. I’ll still have to kill a few days in town, but I hear there is excellent landcrab there. A mind like mine can appreciate a good landcrab.
From Ürümqi I’ll take an overnight bus, 24 hours, to Almaty, Kazakhstan, where I’ll meet up with Ryan Brush. He’s just finished up with Peace Corp, and I now he’s got a nice Kazakhstani suit, a beautiful young Russian girlfriend, and a large billfold with USD and Russian roubles. He’s a made man, more or less. I can’t say what will happen from there, I know he has a few days to travel, and I’d like to drop down into the ‘stans. Almaty to Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan, then on to Tashkent, Uzbekistan, down to Dushanbe, Tajikistan, and then possibly a flight down to Pakistan. I’m not sure at which point this plan will “run a’glee”, be it time, better options, an aversion to Central Asia, robbery, or something more sinister, but only time will tell. In the meantime, set the controls for the heart of the sun…

May, 2004 - It has been a predictably difficult process getting the Priv back online, but alas, another beta relaunch unites the masses, incites journalists around the world, and wakes up diplomats with pre-dawn phone calls. Ipso facto, communism may have fallen on Red China long ago, but a small underground contingent continues to organize strikes, demonstrations and riots through its incendiary editorials and courageous journalism. I don't have anything to do with that, let the record reflect. The PL exists for little less than to promote unfair stereotypes and take the subjects of photography and journalism back a few decades. This is virtual space baby, and I'm the fatman as depicted above.

It's getting damn hot out here. I'm reminded of a scene in Good Morning Vietnam where Adrian Cronauer calls on Roosevelt T. Roosevelt (stationed in Poontang) for a weather report: "It's hot! Damn hot! Real hot - hotter than anything its my shorts, I can cook things in them - do a little crotchpot cooking" -- Well can you tell me what it feels like? -- "Fool it's hot I tell you again, were you born on the sun? It's damn hot! It's so damn hot, I saw these little men in orange robes burst into flames, its that hot, you know what I'm talking about?" -- What do you think its going to be like tonight? -- "It's gonna be hot and wet; that's nice if you're with a lady, but that ain't no good in the jungle." I have a feeling that Shanghai in May is not quite like the jungles of Vietnam in the dead of summer, so I'll pretend that this is comfortable. I find myself getting into taxis in gridlock for a 3 block walk, as I have the time and the dollar to cool down with some godsent AC. Grant Reusch has warned me about "the drip" (from air conditioners hanging off the sides of buildings), so I naturally look forward to that asian experience. The heat makes the ice cream taste better, and as these are inexpensive, ubiquitous and very satisfying, I'm averaging about one a day. This is down from about three while traveling in Tibet, so I feel like I am making progress towards a more healthy lifestyle.

I got in around 2am this morning from Maoming and Windows, woke up at 5am for a cooldown shower, then roused Mike and Sake for a taxi ride across the river to Pudong. Matt Young, a laowei from Brent Gwynn's Portland hood, is in town for a month and is staying at the palatial Holiday Inn. A western breakfast is not to be missed in the land of rice porridge and steamed buns, so we indulged in bacon, made-to-order omelettes and eggs, several varieties of cheese (extremely difficult to find cheese of any kind in China), cold cuts, fresh fruit, fresh bread, pancakes, sausages, hash browns, cold cereal, doughnuts and pastries and lots of juices and bottomless coffee. It was breakfast decadence after a long drought, and the best way to follow that up in Shanghai is a dip in the pool, jacuzzi, sauna, then a cold shower. I even got some time in on a rowing machine. There was an interactive video on the front of the machine that you were supposed to watch while you rowed. If you slowed down, a shark would get closer and closer until it ate you. The graphics, designed by Atari in the early 80's, were very motivating. We got our fill of television as well, as we only get one english channel at our apartment, and it is usually political babble related to Canada - Australia parliamentary procedures. So after the gastronimic excesses of this morning and the various exercises of this afternoon, I feel like I'm just slightly behind in the healthy lifestyle category after eating this chocolate ice creamsicle. I didn't drink any beer tonight, so I'll call it all a wash.

Friday morning, still early March - Ok, no one ever said I was as constant as the northern star, maybe I imagined that part. Life is more interesting when you grant a little more credibility and reality to your daydreams and nightdreams. Its from a song, of no small amount of consequence. Enough of that! Its Friday morning, the weekend starts here, some might say, though last night it started around 7pm. Purple Haze on Robbie's boat; lo (and, I might add, behold) we see Sky Lopez on a, uh talk show. Sky Lopez is the pornstar that he "got to know" a few years ago on the Magic Carpet Ride and later at a reputable overnight accommodation establishment. I'm trying to get him to hawk the video ala PH, but I guess the video is already available. Strode into North Beach to Sushi on North Beach for Dragon, Caterpillar, V-8 and another roll I forget but I remember the second Dragon roll we ordered quite well. Plus spicy Hawaiian sashimi, potstickers (but they're not called potstickers, they're called something like Doju in Japanese). Also Edamame, and Sapporo Big Boys (Andy apparently usually gets Kirin, JV Basketball at Monte Vista taught him to be a team player - don't ask him why he didn't make the cut as a freshman). Then Kathy showed up - also John Glenn arrived midsupper with guests. I don't know why I've ever given Sushi on North Beach anything less than a passing grade. I've never been disappointed, and in retrospect, I've always been quite pleased with the sushi that Chef Katsu has prepared. Katsu has been running restaurants in San Francisco for 30 years, legend has it, but I think he spends a lot of time at Sushi on North Beach. My only compunction was the when we asked our waitress to recommend a final roll based on our previous selections. Sushi on North Beach is the kind of place where Chef Katsu rolls up special rolls not on the menu with ingredients you've never seen or heard before or wouldn't imagine in a sushi roll. We put her on the spot, finally gave her a choice between the dragon and the caterpillar, and she meekly decided the dragon for us. It was magically delicious, again, so alls well that ends well. Nearly all of the sushi chefs and wait staff was Japanese (or looked it, I can't say for sure), and that is always essential with any good sushi restaurant. Everyone knows that I am no racist, discriminating bigot, segregationist, abolitionist or abecedarian, but I like my sushi chefs to be japanese, not mexican, american or Mayan. Label me, I label you, because you're unforgiven too.

We drove out to Sea Bowl and bowled three games with about a pitcher of beer per person. I bowled over 100 each game, but not by much. Andy beat me thrice, but all I have to say on that is the straight bowlers should be at the Pee Wee Lanes with bumper bowling and root beer while the big boys spin 15 pounders down the lane like a Clack and Olmstead on a sit 'n spin. Everyone's equal when they're sitting at the Sea Bowl bar drinking white russians, but down on the lanes the men get separated from the boys.

No trip to the PRC Consulate this morning as planned, an 8:10 wake up was in the cards. Friday mornings usually involve into coffee and asiago bagel with cream cheese from Boudin next door (Say Bo-Deen), wire reports, electronic music on the 47 and 28 lines connection Pier 39 to the Marina, Little Chinatown. Friday mornings evolve into reggae - Culture, Israel Vibration, Lucky Dube. Friday mornings evolve into Friday afternoon, which is followed quickly by two days of no work and all play, making Jack a clever boy. That's all the news that's fit to print. For more unfair and unbalanced reporting, stay tuned.

Wednesday night, early March - Someone once said I was as constant as the northern star, and I wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

SLO is not a bad place, if you know the right people. There is good [and expensive - enough to get you about 1500 slices of pineapple in roadside Thailand] sushi, mesmerizing songs by Joni Mitchell - "I could drink a case of you, and still be on my feet", and little rest for the weary. Locomotion is low but morale is high as we continue the long day's journey into night. "What it is, what it was, what it shall be."

President's Day, 2004 - I am the only person in the world working today.

Friday, February 13, 2004 - My birthday is in exactly a month. Much of the civilized world will begin celebrations shortly that will extend past March 13, and past my departure date for China. Yes, China steams closer, like a freighter approaching the Golden Gate, looming on the horizon as it has been for years, finally showing her eager face. I'm putting in the spring there to see how quickly I can burn through $10K, 4 months, a dozen cases of Soju and a two or three Italian leather journals. Yes, my loyal subjects, there comes a time in every mans life when you must turn right where you've turned left for so long. For me, I take the 28 bus almost onto the Golden Gate Bridge every week day. It stands as a cold symbol to everything right and decent and true in the national character. To drive across the span on a nice spring day to the wuthering heights of the Marin County is to travel, in its most purest sense. A journey usually starts in this way - top down on a vintage fifties american chariot, Whitesnake's Here I Go Again on the radio, a beautiful blonde sitting in the middle seat of the front bench, not knowing where you're headed, this is what we all deserve, but don't grant ourselves. Its the little things, that's what Vincent Vega will tell you...

Wednesday, February 4, 2004 - Kirsten Yergensen is radical. And she is cute. We caught up with the political analyst for an instant messenger conversation