June 29, 2001

17:38 | Ze Box, I Live in Ze Box

After paying an on-crack $80 worth of library fees, I proceeded to check out the following books:

I found out that I vastly underestimated the contents of the NYU libraries. Not only did they have more fiction than I thought they had, but also had some rather new books that I didn't expect to have already been "binded" and stuck on the shelves. I guess it's something I should expect, seeing how I'm paying them a good $36,000 a year.

13:47 | In the World of Orwellia

I just realized that if you agree with Jakob Nielsen, you may also have trouble navigating parts of this site.

Scary.

June 28, 2001

18:59 | Japanese Animation is Good For You

A young girl wakes up, has no recollection of her past. In her drawer, she finds a gun, realizes she has a knack for killing. She feels lonely, so she mysteriously contacts an older female who is labelled "the best contract killer there is." They try to work together. The killer vows to herself, "You know who I am. Once this is over, I must kill you." The girl, in her mind, retorts, "And I'll be waiting for that moment."

The anime I'm talking about is called Noir. I found a few episodes and was amazed by not only the great music and the astoundingly beautiful animation, but also the very intriguing storyline it provides. It feels like it takes cues from The Big Sleep, Batman: The Animated Series, and the simply sweet (and feminine) gunplay of Luc Besson's Nikita.

Alas, I also found out that it only started appearing on Tokyo TV on April 15, 2001. Well, it'll be worth the wait to watch it when it finally comes out in the states.

11:07 | I Miss My 24/7 IHOP

For breakfast: Leftover chicken lo mein from last night's Chinese takeout.

Welcome to New York: Indication #142.

June 27, 2001

20:32 | An Argument For Seven Cents?

Sometime in the last week, at some website (I cannot recall which or else I would link you, no doubt), I read a seemingly sarcastic argument for coins in the denomination of seven cents. I laughed.

Today, swinging by Duane Reade to pick up an Orange Carrot flavored Mystic, I laughed again:

Cashier: That'll be #1.07.

Me: Here's a dollar... and the rest is coming up... (and I reach into my pocket to dig up change; I find only a quarter and a nickel, so I give her the quarter).

Cashier: Ah, perfect. Well, almost.

Me: Hah! If only there were seven cent coins!

I swear, it's creepy how content from the web is creeping into my everyday conversations. Even stuff that wasn't meant seriously.

14:20 | Cappuccino With Elva Xiao

I used to have a guestbook. Then it went bye-bye. Partially because gbook.nu was a bit less than reliable, but more because my content grew extremely personal, in a different way. It was as if I didn't want anything from the outside touching the words on my site. Well, that has changed, as you can probably tell if you've kept up with my stuff (and if you have, thank you). So, in order to get in touch with readers and passers-by who don't have time and/or reason to drop an email, I've re-implemented the guestbook.

One thing that defninitely encouraged me to do this was the fact that with PHP, I can actually create/host the guestbook on my own server, which is good stuff, no doubt. With some help from DevShed and a bit of debugging from Ernie, it's finally up in the "MORE" section.

Leave your mark.

June 26, 2001

01:09 | Play With My Septum Pellucidum

Memento is so bloody overrated. Anyone and everyone around me was shoving the film at me, "Go watch it, now!" Well, I didn't then. And then I finally did tonight. And it dissapointed.

For those who aren't familiar with the hype surrounding this film, the story is of a man who is unable to form new memories trying to find his wife's murderer. It's filmed basically backwards: the latest scene is placed first and then the story un-unfolds in front of your eyes. Good shit, huh? No, not really.

Christopher Nolan, the director, tries to be innovative. And indeed he was. But I think people often forget that innovation must churn out something better than previously shown, not just something new. This film used this technique to draw people in, and that was fine and dandy. But after you do that, you must provide something more than a gimmick. And I think that's where this film failed. In the end, I found myself not only thinking, "That's absurd!" but also felt cheated out of $10. Two things that could have saved this film: a) another hour of footage, b) a simpler plot and ending. It tries to be more than it really is.

By the way, did I mention Carrie-Anne Moss can't act? No, I didn't. Well, that's because she can act—just not very well.

Finally, I respect most of the people who are on IMDB. I love the site. But how the hell does Memento rank as the #12 film of all-time? Oy, now that's the real tragedy.

Update: I'm definitely going to have to watch this again. Above, I, by no means, meant that it wasn't a good film. It was good, but failed to live up to its hype. Therefore I would like to view it again and give it another chance.

June 24, 2001

20:39 | Windows XP, Where Are You?

Having to restart your computer half-way through a coding process because Windows Millennium handles its system resources worse than Steve Urkel handles a basketball is NO GOOD.

That's all.

02:14 | On the Way to Massachusetts

Ah, yes. So Michelle came up to NYC from Virginia, and I accompanied her to see The Dismemberment Plan at the Bowery Ballroom. In the process, I got introduced to more new music. I never really thought I'd like indie-rock much, but after Scott introduced me to Jimmy Eat World and Nick introduced me to The Weakerthans, I've been proven wrong. There's definitely a new level of honesty and enjoyment in the music. In fact, it's even depleted my AsianPop listening time. Wow.

Also: We went to Port Authority on 42nd because Mich's next destination was Boston. There, while we were getting a quick bite, this rather nicely dressed man with funky Einstein-ish hair was talking aloud to himself:

"All my life... ALL my LIFE!... All my life I've been CHASIN' THEM HOES!"

Welcome to New York: Indication #535.

June 23, 2001

14:54 | Yo, What the Hell?

Manhattan + Rain = Uncertainty Theory Deluxe.

Bloody unpredictable rain. Found myself utterly wet after leaving the Union Square subway. Peter and I were going to head to Saint's Alp Teahouse for bubble tea and then Hollywood Video to pick up The Lost World. Call it an urge, because after watching Chungking Express for the 3.9 billionth time, I doubt any dinosaur flick would be able to measure up.

But: Didn't happen. Damn the bloody rain.

June 22, 2001

21:18 | Quake IV: The Hobbit?

No, not really.

What is cool, though, is a Quake retrospective that has a short interview with John Romero and Tim Willits, members of Id Software back in the day, who commented on Quake's initital premise:

Romero: Quake's design was VERY different from the game that was released. It was much more of a D&D-based game with a main character named Quake who had an awesome hammer that would grow in power as the game progressed. At one point in November 1995, we decided to change the design to something we were more comfortable creating—FPS weapons with a few twists. After the major redesign, the game underwent a few more smaller redesigns (to cut down development time) and we released the Quake that everyone knows today.

Whew. No offense to D&D fans, but I can't picture myself bashing dragons and whatnot with a big arse hammer. Can't live without my rocket launcher, know what I mean?

20:42 | Note to Alarm Clock Manufacturers

Please make your shit Rahat-proof.

Thanks.

02:25 | Left and Leaving

I love her for loving him.

June 21, 2001

23:14 | I Dream of (Bigger) Shoes

"Mommy, I want to be a breast therapist when I grow up."

From Roger, this article on Yahoo! tells the story of Khemmika na Songkhla, a breast therapist in Bangkok, Thailand. She says she has "enlarged the breasts of thousands of Thai women over the past 14 years—not with chemicals or silicone but by using traditional Thai massage."

Khemmika has skills and doesn't mind flaunting their amazing effects: "These women once had chicken-egg size breasts. After the course they have become ostrich-egg size busts, so their husbands have chosen to eat their eggs at home instead.''

Business school or breast therapy? Ah, another one of life's great dilemmas.

Update: There were two breast-related stories. I took this one, Ernie took the other.

03:31 | Entropic Dispersion of the Sleepy Kind

she likes to wonder
how a world sets itself free
for the blunder it causes
in its entropy
is lost forever in the process
of regeneration
for the masses

June 20, 2001

08:31 | Simpler Than Complex

High school angst is good stuff. Even a bit underrated in the long run. It really gives you a foundation to start your bitching and whining. Obviously, everyone has their own medium of expressing such. All one can hope is that a creative, interesting way is chosen that when you look back on it ten years later, you don't want to hide your face in the crowd.

I used to go to these long stream of consciousness tirades back then. When I wrote them, I didn't think. I imagined. And everything seemingly fell into place. Then I would read what I wrote and found myself wondering, "How the hell did I write that?" And what I found more amazing is that the more I read it, the more the writing really meant something to me.

Sometimes, I suppose, you have to let yourself go in order to write what you really want. The following is from August 19, 1999. Beginning of senior year of high school. One of my later angst-based, stream of consciousness writings. If it was someone else's, I'd initally look at it and think, "Big words. No substance." But I think the trick is to look at it purely metaphorically. Title is "Pseudo-Optical Inertia." Something to the effect of "you may not see what's in front of you, but it won't keep you from staring at it longer."

nonsensical representation of the blurry world; the eyes cannot fathom the truth into its depths of uneasyness—the lies within our feet are sweeter, they are warm and comfortable, not unlike a blanket filled with small electric currents.

theoretical devices of mental torture compares not to the human touch of anti-compassion. a bleak chamber tactic is threaded into every bead of the hydrogen bonds that make us—and only time is the controller of the fury that is to be let out.

concrete souls of mechanical stature: evident and pure, existing in society under the charlatan veil of the next door neighbour. pop (the sound of the micro-systematic move toward the release) and boom (the sound of the initial release) are aural warnings preceeding the vagrancy of the gaseous inert fuse.

electro-genesis of anti-anti-compassion and the ultimate powerhold over anti-compassionities is the goal of the meek—the quiet sheltered mind has not been washed over the deluded fantasies of psyens fiktion.

the theoretical victory of either side of forces is only the basic foundation of what is to be—the cycle of rebirth for the pseudo-neighbourlies or the freedomites is evident everyday—

in the end, it remains to be a war of psychological empowerment, and only an innate reasoning ability will preclude to the conclusion of what should have never happened.

June 19, 2001

23:43 | Eating Cheap In Manhattan, Continued

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: There's nothing better to enjoy in New York City than food.

More specifically, nothing beats Chinatown. From my current location, the heart of Chinatown is a mere 10-15 minute walk. Great, no? Had dinner tonight at XO Kitchen on the corner of Hester and Elizabeth, which, after Josh showed it to me, has become my favorite eatery in Chinatown.

My favorite dish has become the Curry Stew Beef on Rice. For $3.50, you get a (large) plateful of good food. And I mean an amazing amount. It shocked me, quite frankly. And the service there is great. The place is always packed, but they always try their best to seat you and take your order as fast as possible.

So, what's the lesson for the day? Buy me food! Thanks.

19:08 | Eating Cheap In Manhattan

biometrika (7:01:50 PM): you got the job?
Ledavatar (7:01:54 PM): pretty much
biometrika (7:01:58 PM): good. you owe me dinner.

03:19 | i r l33t @zn h4x0r

No, sir. There were no Unix prompts. There was no Windows2000. And the boys weren't on IRC. But does that make a difference?

I feel like people are giving Swordfish an unfair treatment. I keep hearing about how it was so "unreal." Well, two things to point out:

My friend Peter was telling me something along the lines of, "Well, people should expect it in future actions films. Hacking and computers and stuff are becoming natural in the crime scene. Crimes and computers will be hand in hand in the future, so no more are we looking at 'hacker films,' but rather actions films that contain hacking."

Good shit, no? That's not a thought that came across my head before, but I felt it made a great deal of sense. Also, it seems the biggest complaint about the film was the fact that it used screens with "nice purty graphics" in order to write a worm. Well, obviously it's not realitistic. But two thoughts came to my mind in the film's defense: 1) Considering the "hacking" phenomenon will more and more become part of mainstream film, I doubt people want to see minutes and minutes of Hugh Jackman typing away at a bloody Unix prompt while listening to Paul Oakenfold. Therefore the pretty graphics and whatnot are some sort of eye candy to simulate real coding so one doesn't get bored. And 2) Why would a film, of all things, really show you how to code for real? I mean, a lot of the things that can cause havoc in the electronic world are not too hard to do. So, why show such tasks to the world? Kids gets ideas. Kids act on ideas. So don't give kids ideas. Something like that.

Anyway. It's late. Swordfish was good, gluttonic fun. Much more enjoyable than expected. Not sure if it was fully worth $10, but considering I just saw Pearl harbor, $10 right now seems like a bargain.

June 17, 2001

23:05 | True Product of Americana

I was just at the deli on the corner of Water and Fletcher ordering a roast beef and turkey on a hero with lettuce, tomato, mozzarella, pepper and hot mustard when this older man, I'd say around 65 to 70, starts speaking to me. I don't mind that. A little chatting until I get my grub, right? Well, here's a little snippet from our conversation to show you why this was far from "just another conversation."

Him: "Yeah, you know how these people are like nowadays. Bunch of cocksuckers just wanting me to grab them coffee. Bastards, you know what I mean?"
Me: Nod. Smile.

Welcome to New York: Indication #394.

17:53 | A Little Sarcasm For Your Head

I was over at FuckedCompany to check out the usual dot-com downfalls when a certain post in the message boards struck me odd:

As someone who, as a Harvard and Dartmouth graduate, sold quite a successful business [refer-it.com] to internet.com for stock, I must say that the company's efforts to reduce the operating costs and improve profitability in an uncertain market are most welcome. I only wish I had applied the same cost-cutting strategies to my remaining online property, thesquare.com [an online community for graduates of the top 23 schools in the United States and abroad] in time to save it from foreclosure. Well, what can I say, one successful gamble in two ventures is still more than most "serial entrepreneurs" out there can boast.

It's hard to tell if the post was for real. It seems it may have been an ex-employee enacting revenge through mockery. Anyway, I found one of the replies to his post funny as hell:

BS MIT '83 Masters Oxford '85 PhD Harvard '87 in biochemistry, electrical engineering, mathematics, philosophy, religious studies, music, English, Swahili,underwater basketweaving and many others of which I am too modest to mention. I was the judge in the O.J. Simpson case, the star of the Brazilian soccer team, and the senior advisor of Bill Clinton and Newt Gingrich. Planning to go to Yale Law School, Harvard Medical School, and a Roman Catholic seminary with the $135,001 won for being a 5-time Jeopardy champion. Also recently found Waldo and Carmen San Diego. (They were both hiding in the bushes.) Originally sang the songs in the record album of Milli Vanilli, knows for a fact who killed O.J.'s wife, the key diplomat that desegregated South Africa, solved the meaning of life mathematically and philosophically, and signed Jesus' yearbook. Won Nobel Peace Prize, Pulitzer Prize, best man 5 times, nominated 7 times for best director, key grip, most popular, cutest smile, homecoming king, voted best athlete of the twentieth century, and does not have a blinking 12:00 on his VCR.

Besides... I hope reading this makes you SMILE.

Too funny, too funny. Gotta love it.

June 16, 2001

21:07 | Two Sides of James Joyce

From Dean, Ulysses for Dummies. When I tried to read Ulysses back in the 10th grade, I found myself dumbfounded, confused, lost. I was also continuously repeating to myself, "What the fuck?" Was this the same James Joyce who wrote the astoundingly beautiful Araby (a.k.a. Chapter 3 from The Dubliners). Not sure. But thanks to Ulysses for Dummies, I can finally enjoy it. Or something.

Below is an excerpt from Araby that, after having read it a billion times, I must say is as perfect a passage can get:

Every morning I lay on the floor in the front parlour watching her door. The blind was pulled down to within an inch of the sash so that I could not be seen. When she came out on the doorstep my heart leaped. I ran to the hall, seized my books and followed her. I kept her brown figure always in my eye and, when we came near the point at which our ways diverged, I quickened my pace and passed her. This happened morning after morning. I had never spoken to her, except for a few casual words, and yet her name was like a summons to all my foolish blood.

Her image accompanied me even in places the most hostile to romance. On Saturday evenings when my aunt went marketing I had to go to carry some of the parcels. We walked through the flaring streets, jostled by drunken men and bargaining women, amid the curses of labourers, the shrill litanies of shop-boys who stood on guard by the barrels of pigs' cheeks, the nasal chanting of street-singers, who sang a come-all-you about O'Donovan Rossa, or a ballad about the troubles in our native land. These noises converged in a single sensation of life for me: I imagined that I bore my chalice safely through a throng of foes. Her name sprang to my lips at moments in strange prayers and praises which I myself did not understand. My eyes were often full of tears (I could not tell why) and at times a flood from my heart seemed to pour itself out into my bosom. I thought little of the future. I did not know whether I would ever speak to her or not or, if I spoke to her, how I could tell her of my confused adoration. But my body was like a harp and her words and gestures were like fingers running upon the wires.

One evening I went into the back drawing-room in which the priest had died. It was a dark rainy evening and there was no sound in the house. Through one of the broken panes I heard the rain impinge upon the earth, the fine incessant needles of water playing in the sodden beds. Some distant lamp or lighted window gleamed below me. I was thankful that I could see so little. All my senses seemed to desire to veil themselves and, feeling that I was about to slip from them, I pressed the palms of my hands together until they trembled, murmuring: `O love! O love!' many times.

NOTE: This is the third time I have quoted these paragraphs on my site. Ha!

04:44 | One For The Night

You are only as weak as you try not to be.

03:18 | You'll Be Changing My Heart

If you asked me who my favorite musical artists are, I'd blurt out names you may already know: Radiohead, Kruder & Dorfmeister, New Order. But I'd also throw in S.E.S. I don't expect most people to know them, and that's fine. They're a KoreanPop group, and yah, I like them very much even though I barely understand anything they say.

I discovered them during the late part of my junior year in high school. My friend Linh in Australia showed me where I could get more of their stuff (read: IRC), and I've been addicted ever since.

There was a long span during my senior year, a time filled with stress and anxiety and the need for more sleep, in which I had a rather peculiar morning routine. Since in Houston, I lived across the street from my high school, I would take my time getting dressed and ready in the morning. And nearly every morning, before leaving (I kept my eye on the watch every other second to keep time) I would play the video from S.E.S.'s song "Love."

Looking back on it, it feels horrendously silly. In fact, writing this feels horrendously silly. But in simple honesty, I'd watch this video every morning, and my heart would start to glow. Interestingly enough, I was supposed to come to New York City on the weekend of October 10, 1999. Why? Well, I needed to check out colleges, right? Well besides that, my hidden motive was that S.E.S. was performing in Flushing. Ah, but that didn't happen as later I found out I had to take the SATs on that Saturday. Oops.

They filmed that video that week. And everytime I watch the video, the music makes me smile. The girls, with the smiles on their faces, singing about love, gave me some sort of momentary/pseudo-hope. And I don't know. I just feel like a kid in love when I watch it. Some sort of temporary escape. I love that.

June 14, 2001

20:15 | Andy Grove is My Daddy

"The dotcoms threw themselves on the bonfire, but they created a bigger flame as a result."

I never really got into Wired Magazine as so many technogeeks have, so it was of no surprise when I realized today that I had missed a good article in the June issue. Naz shed the light about the cover of the issue where it depicts Andy Grove, looking as admirable and spiffy as ever, replying to the statement of "Tough times? Hell, yes." with the advice of "Believe In The Internet More Than Ever." Nice, no?

There's something about Grove that yells out to me, "Listen to me if you know what's good for you." I can't seem to argue. Even though I'm quite pro-AMD and somewhat unsupportive of Intel lately, Grove's obviously showed to the world he's a man to be reckoned with. In fact, reading the article, I found myself very impressed with not only Grove's business sense and ideology, but also his use of allusions from Wagnerian operas. Not bad. And the guy talks like me. Kinda. "Bloody _______." "Horrendously _______." Oh my.

June 13, 2001

18:10 | Nokia: Makers of High-Tech Vibrators?

So, yeh, if you were heavily invested in Nokia, you're in a bit of trouble. As the graph below illustrates, the Finnish wireless giant has lost nearly two-thirds of its value in the past year. Noticeably, the biggest fall in price came around February 14th. Did this have something to do with Valentine's Day? I couldn't directly find a connection, but thanks to a link from Sunil, I may have found a hidden reason.

From Ananova: Taiwanese doctors have removed a mobile phone from a woman's bottom after a sex game went wrong. X-rays revealed the 20-year-old had a Nokia 8850 inside her rectum. Doctors at Taipei Medical University hospital said she had been playing sex games with her boyfriend. Hospital spokeswoman Elaine Weng said staff were wondering why they had used the mobile as a sex toy. She said: "We guessed it's because some cellphones have a vibrating function."

Yikes. Kinky Taiwanese women.

14:47 | All She Was Worth

Just finished reading Miyuki Miyabe's All She Was Worth. Supposedly this was both Japan's novel and mystery of the year (1992). With that, I almost feel like it must have been a sub-par year or the novel's translation was quite weak. It's not that the novel is bad, it's actually very good and quite an entertaining read. But it's more like the idea that even though Gladiator was a great movie, it by no means was a Best Picture caliber film compared to past winners of the Oscar. Entertaining book, kept me interested, especially with its repetitive mentions of the new Japanese economy and its dependence on the credit industry. Here's an excerpt:

It was because she was so alone, Honma thought, that she had tried to become someone else. If a close friend had been there to understand, she wouldn't have done it; she'd have accepted some help and skipped out as Kyoko Shinjo. A name only exists because another person calls you by it. If someone had cared for her, she'd never have tossed her name away like an old tire. There's love in a name.

I suppose my problem with it was that the writing was somewhat unrefined. I wished I could understand Japanese because it just feels like quite a bit was lost in the translation. The translator, Alfred Birnbaum, apparently has done translations for quite a few Murakami books, so I would think he's capable of delivering adequately. So this leaves me wondering if the original was not highly refined in itself. Anyway, without being too critical, gotta say I'm hooked enough that I'd like to read more books by Miyabe. Problem? Out of the many books written, only this has been translated in English. So much for that.

06:33 | Kubrick's Non-Magnum Opus

It was shock enough to discover that Stanley Kubrick had died before Eyes Wide Shut was even released, it was even more of a shock (and pure dissapointment) when I discovered that Eyes Wide Shut was more of a money making project he was doing for the big studios in order to secure funding for his magnum opus to be, A.I.

Well, it was somewhat of a welcome news to find out that the project would indeed come to fruition through the hands of Steven Spielberg. While I may not be the biggest Spielberg fan on the planet, I do admire and respect his work. My only worry is that he sometimes makes his films a bit melodramatic. But that's fine, I suppose, considering the typical barrage of crap that Hollywood produces day in and day out.

I went to A.I.'s official website to check out the trailer for the movie: Um, intriguing. Really don't know what else to say, but looking at the extravagant expenditures this film probably endured for its special effects and sets and whatnot, it's fairly obvious why Kubrick needed major funding. Something of note on the site is the little "Chatbot" feature it has. I was actually numbed out enough to sit there and talk to this "fella" for about 10 minutes. Then I smacked myself and closed the bloody window. Good stuff.

June 12, 2001

19:49 | Personal Home Page

Ah, after slaving over the hot stove (read: computer) for the last seven hours, this site is ready to go. Seven hours, you say? Well, sure, why not? I got sick of uploading to the server to check if my PHP scripts were working, so I took some time and just bloody installed Apache on my computer. With PHP. And MySQL. Trying to learn a lot more about what goes on behind the design lately, and it is indeed very amazing. Currently working on a project that involves all of what I've mentioned and more, so this is good practice.

In other news, this version is my attempt at being straight up. Read the, um, "About" section for more. Also, the icons under MediaPlay will tell you what I'm listening to or reading or watching or whatnot. Don't worry, those aren't referral links. I'm too lazy to make money off of you generous and loving and kind people whom I love very much.

Time for food.