The second wife of Jefferson Davis was Varina Howell Davis, who he married in 1845. Nobody in their right mind would name their daughter Varina nowadays.

From the LA Times Book Review, August 13, 2006, R4
The Looming Tower by Lawrence Wright, reviewed by Daniel Hurtz-Phelan
…John O'Neill, a swaggering, loud-mouthed FBI agent who, as the head of its counterterrorist unit, became so obsessed with Bin Laden that "his colleagues began to question his judgment." For most Americans, within government and without, Al Qaeda was "too bizarre, too primitive and exotic" to take seriously. "Up against the confidence Americans placed in modernity and technology," Wright observes, "the defiant gestures of bin Laden and his followers seemed absurd and even pathetic.”

O'Neill and a handful of his colleagues tried frantically to make everyone else grasp the danger, especially after Al Qaeda bombed US embassies in Africa in 1998 and the US destroyer Cole in 2000. One FBI agent, after being prevented by bureaucratic regulations from examining a suspected terrorist's laptop (which might have revealed the 9/11 plot weeks before it happened), angrily and eerily told his superiors that he was just "trying to keep someone from taking a plane and crashing it into the World Trade Center." But in most cases, these Cassandras had burned out by the time their unheeded warnings proved prescient. On the morning of September 11, O'Neill had just started a lucrative new job as head of security at the World Trade Center.

Thomas Carlyle wrote, concerning the blindness and conservatism of the ruling class before the French Revolution, "A political party that knows not when it is beaten may become one of the fatalest thing to itself & to all."

And a president?

________________
photo courtesy of Bird賴鵬智. Thanks!

One afternoon a couple years ago I was sitting out on the second floor porch facing east playing the recorder. A movement to the northeast caught my eye, but when I turned that way, I didn't see anything, so I continued my efforts with Bach. A moment later my attention was called northeast again. I took a careful look and seemed to see something moving on the rarely traveled road from Tampya, across the valley, maybe two kilometers away in a straight line. I got out my binoculars and could make out a group of people there, apparently enjoying the view.

Barnard DeVoto described how the mountain men, trappers who roamed the Great Plains and Rockies in the early 19th century, were so attuned to their surroundings that they noticed slight movements from miles away. I had never believed that before.

Ho ho. As I typed this, I was interrupted by Yumin's barking. I stuck my head out the window to hush him, and smelled the odor of a man who had smoked a cigarette and had a drink and apparently passed down the old path, twenty meters away through the jungle. Go bite him, stout Yumin!

Sign of the times
In the Taipei Main Station Underground Mall, I watched a tiny little toddler, not even three years old, just barely old enough to walk by himself, chatting briskly on a cell phone as he strolled with his mother.

Wonder what he'll be like when he grows up.

臺灣有一個極大的問題：一廂情願。越綠，主觀越重，認為自己想聽的就是真理，沒有辦法也沒有意願採取其它想法，不假設，不推想，不肯去想「萬一」。

不是你認為不會發生，事情就不可能會發生的；一廂情願的思路是死路。喊「愛臺灣」的人如果真的愛臺灣，必須打破陳舊、狹隘思想的窠臼，必須勇敢面對世局。

極右派到靖國神社一拜，得罪了所有鄰近國家與美國執政者。好哇，你那麼崇拜那些為了侵略、為了反對民主反對自由而死去的鬼，你去叫牠們救你呀。自己認為李登輝拜日本國旗對，就可以講出一千個理由說明為甚麼他這樣做是對的；問題是，大家唾棄、沒人想理。一意孤行，想法太沒有彈性，沒有意願依它人眼光看事情、由其它角度衡量得失、了解多數人的想法、想一想alternatives。我認為怎樣，事情就應該怎樣。
(漢人沉默願蒙辱，甚至奴言婢膝崇拜黷武的軍閥，起碼高金素妹帶族人爭一口氣: loqah Tayal beh!)

美國偶而玩一下臺灣牌，攖一攖中共逆鱗好玩；但是這牌不好玩的時候，棄之如敝屣。可是我到目前為止，還沒聽過人討論，萬一換國旗，怎麼辦？大家的心態好像是說，我們不去想，事情就不會發生。因此完全沒有Plan B。原來駝鳥的分佈，不限于非洲。

我聽過一些很離譜的想法：臺灣如果有事，美國一定來救；日本會制裁中共：一個比一個荒謬。就是沒有人願意面對實局深入思攷。如果有Plan B的話，頂多就是怎樣把大官的兒子、財產送出去。

可能是我不忠于黨，也不太在乎旗色。誰執政，哪一個黨逞強，不重要；我覺得重要的是，臺灣老百姓生活過得好嗎？包括身、心、靈，不只是經濟，還有文化、教育、倫理、環境、胸襟、視野、風氣、想法、生活態度。古人說，謀及子孫。臺灣政壇上，太多人說，謀及權勢罷了。很多綠選民，頭腦滯留在爺爺年代，無暇顧及子孫。我不藍不綠，但我覺得藍選民比較能為未來著想，不是永遠翻舊帳、懷念一個從來沒有存在過的過去世界。

中國歷史，久分必合，久合必分。中央無力過問，暫容它土皇帝逍遙，只要不要太過分，有空的話記得往皇京方向磕個頭，或起碼點個頭，就不太管它。但如果中央有力，卻有人想私自站有版圖的小小角落、不甩京城老大，就一定派軍收拾乾淨。給京面子，不太計較；不顧京畿大人臉面，誅戮殄滅。幾千年來都是如此，沒有例外。

美軍Pentagon作長期計畫單位已經咬定中共海軍由臺灣各港出海；這是他們預估未來局勢不置疑的前提。美國軍方估計，假設中共武力解放臺灣，如果所有一切條件對臺灣有利，最久可以撐二十二小時才投降。可是我認為，中共不會笨到發動解放軍(更何況，在他們眼中臺灣不是一個很大的問題)。隔岸觀火，讓臺灣自己爛，之後進來救人。

難道我們不該想一下Plan B嗎？

photo courtesy of Bird 賴鵬智. Thanks again!

明‧李隨‧醉醒石：人最打不破是貪利。一利利，便只顧自己手底肥，囊中飽。便不顧體面，不顧親知，不顧羞恥，因而不顧王法，不顧天理。在仕宦為尤甚。總是為農為商的，剋剝貪求，是有限量的。到了仕宦，打罵得人，驅使得人，勢做得開，露了一點貪心，便有一干來承迎勾誘，不可底止。

A couple years after I graduated from college and started teaching English, I got dragged off to a dinner with a bunch of rich businessmen: a native foreigner who speaks Chinese! better than a talking dog.

During the meal, Chairman Tsai made a point of looking at his watch, which was very gaudy, so of course the others had to compliment him on it. "Oh yes, this is something I picked up for US$12,000 in Hong Kong, just a trinket.”

General Manager Chen pulled back his sleeve and said, "Oh yes, a couple months ago in Switzerland I happened to see this, and since it was only US$18,000, I decided to buy it, just for fun.”

Boss Wang showed his watch, "Oh yes, I really need to get a new watch, this one is a real cheapo, it cost me only US$10,000.”

I pulled on the shoestring attached to my belt loop and pulled my pocket watch out of my pocket and looked at it carefully. "Chairman Tsai, what time is it by your watch?”

"What? Oh, it's 7:25.”

"General Manager Chen, what time is it by your watch?”

"It's 7:25.”

"Boss Wang, what time is it by your watch?”

"It's 7:25.”

"My father bought me this pocket watch at Sears for US$2.95, and it says 7:25, too." I stuffed my watch back into my pocket and resumed eating.

Funny, they never invited me out to dinner again.

My parents didn't raise me to be a diplomat. Or a talking dog.

新聞: 陳水扁離開了台北，心情舒暢多了
哪有這種總統？愛土、愛民、愛國的心，應是回歸才舒暢。蔣中正何時離開過臺灣？對岸喊要血洗臺灣時，他堅守臺灣寶島不離開，讓各大國派總統、副總統等大官來拜訪，而不是他坐飛機到名不見經傳的小國，希望他們允許他下降。

其實也不能怪President Bean想往國外跑，卸了任以後哪有機會用納稅人的錢到南洋去玩？還有專機耶!你坐過空軍一號嗎？一定沒有，我們只有出油錢的份，無福搭機到處玩，還有女空官充空姐。

可是陳為甚麼那麼堅持要當總統？不懂。幾年前他到中美洲一個名不見經傳的小國去玩對不起寫錯了去進行他的偉大外交功勢時，說，「中華民國係啥物件，我嘛無宰羊，」既然在外國講了這麼丟臉的話，否定了自己的頭銜，為甚麼今天又死皮賴臉不肯放呢？

不過，我有一個message想傳給帛琉總統：Dear President of Palau, We are very happy that President Bean has gone to visit you. If you like him, please keep him. We don't want him back. Thank you very much.

Qalux sure has rotten luck. Driving a bus is hard work and the hours are long. The weather is cooling off: just right for napping. He hit that long light at Hsinhai Road just as it turned red, shut his eyes for a moment, and bang, fell asleep.

That wouldn't be so bad, but as luck would have it, just at the moment the light turned green, who should pull up next to his bus but Chang and I, who almost never go to that area. Talk about timing! We guffawed when we saw him sprawled in his driver's throne, oblivious to traffic and the changing light. We both shouted and Chang honked. We saw Qalux jerk awake. Laughing heartily, we raced ahead, detoured into Jingmei, and got him a big cup of coffee. We caught up with him in New Store. I hailed the bus at the New Store subway terminal stop, jumped on, thrust the coffee into his hands, and jumped back off the bus.

We waited for him at the end of the route. He came off his bus laughing. "I don't know what happened, I just shut my eyes for a moment, and all of a sudden I heard one of the passengers coughing loudly. I realized I had fallen asleep, so what could I do? I said as loud as I could 'Amen! Lord, that's all I can pray for now, the light has turned so I have to drive my bus. Amen!'"

Quick thinking. Don't know if it fooled anybody, but quick thinking.

臺北小市民生活歷史綴筆
臺北公車聯營之前，站牌距離比較近：反正，其它車不多，走走停停。大家面對面坐。每一個站牌都有售票亭，票亭也賣報紙票夾等等，並售零煙；換言之，香菸可以一根一根買，不必全包買。這種現象似乎早已消失了。

石油危機之前，臺北公車票價一塊五。這個現象我確定是很久以前消失不見的囉!

Liluq: 蛇梅 : duchesnea indica (Andr.) Focke
In years gone by, every kid in Wulai knew that the area around what is now my house had the most and tastiest liluq (a kind of wild strawberry). They would get a section of bamboo and a stick that fit in it, fill the bamboo with liluq, and squash the berries into juice with the stick. The juice stained their mouths and chins red.

Liluq still grow here, but Tayal kids don't come to eat them any more. Store bought snacks have taken over.

Certain facts of Chinese society never change, regardless of political blathering.

A group of teenage girls probably just entering high school were playing with pigeons in the park, trying to get them to come close, scaring them away.

As I passed by, I heard one say, "I hear these taste really good.”

Josh's daughter Meghan\小綾, who came from LA to study Mandarin, found a wonderful apartment near the school. I phoned 776 Chang, the taxi driver, to arrange to drive her down to the city, and get her a cell phone on the way. He knows people in the business. He keeps people in business, with all the phoning he does arranging taxi rides for passengers and drivers.

An hour later, he phoned back, and said, If she doesn't have a Residence Certificate, she may not be able to get a cell phone.

I said, That's ok, we can use my documents, we'll sign a six month contract under my name, and she uses the phone.

(Chang consulted somebody):: There are a lot of restrictions on foreigners, the shortest contract may be two years.

me: Oh, that may be a problem.

C: Why don't you get her a prepaid card? That way she doesn't need a contract.

me: That sounds like a good idea.

C: But even if she uses a prepaid card, she doesn't have a phone.

me: Mmm, she doesn't, that's a problem.

C: What can you do if she doesn't have a phone for the card?

me: Well, I guess we'll buy her one.

C (somewhat indignant): Buy her one? Let her use one of mine.

me: I can't do that. You use your three cell phones all the time for business. (note: you should see him driving along a mountain road juggling three phone conversations at the same time.)

C: I've got a bunch of phones. People forget them, leave them in the taxi, and I pick them up. So I'll show her a nice selection of cell phones, she can choose one she likes, and we'll get her a prepaid card.

The next morning Chang came to pick us up, with three cell phones to choose from. ~~ he had more in reserve, but he thought these would be a good choice.

Meghan chose a Motorola as we headed to the city. When we got to the cell phone place, first I went to get a recharger and so forth. The guy opened up the Motorola Meghan had chosen, calmly handed it back to me, and said, "You can't use this cell phone, it has ants in it.”

Sure enough, there were little brown ants inside the cell phone. ~~Wulai is jungle, after all, and it had been sitting around Chang's place for a while.

We decided to sign up for the number first, and we could do it without signing a contract either. First there was an intense conference between Chang and me, because technically it’s my number, but Chang is my guarantor for the number (regulations restricting foreigners from wantonly using cell phones) so it bounces off him too. You wouldn't believe the rules and taboos concerning numbers. Lots and lots of 4s in the list, so many that they give you a discount if you take a number with a 4. I finally chose a number with a 4 in it, but you wouldn't be interested in my reasons. It's a good number. Meghan waited patiently. Chang had procured a toothbrush from his taxi and was busily swabbing ants out of the cell phone as I filled in the forms and put my chop on them.

We got Meghan a number and chip, but we weren't sure if we had gotten all the ants out of the cell phone, so we headed for Chang's friend's cell phone store, where Chang took the phone apart, tap tap tap, he tapped at least 30 ants out from inside the cell phone. Then he cleaned it thoroughly. I went next door to buy some alcohol from the chemical supply store. The friend's wife is worried that she'll get carried away by ants.

Finally we reached Meghan's new abode, installed her, put her phone on the charger, and headed back to Wulai. But you know what? I really admired that clerk's sangfroid, like he sees ants inside cell phones every morning.

有點受騙的感覺。上禮拜一封email說今天凌晨火星特大，像月亮大，兩百七十幾年才能一見。非常意外的是，今天凌晨烏來居然雲層不厚，可以看到星星。好像認出了火星，跟金星差不多大小而已，沒有月亮大，更何況今天初三，凌晨無月可看。沒關係，半夜涼，聽風聲水聲，甘願受騙。

下午雷雨；是不是因為昨天那樣寫，老天要證明與政客沒有掛鉤，不得而知。未時一小時內房子被雷擊兩次，從來沒發生過的事。或許應該閉門思過?。第一振雷非常大，電熱水瓶、電話線、除濕機都燒掉了。于蟬在二樓玩樂器，看到雷霆藍光黃鬚，嚇的往一樓奔來找大人陪。讓我好羨慕，我沒在那麼近距離看過雷霆。

感謝Ben Franklin.

The house got struck by lightning twice within an hour this afternoon, which has never happened before. The first bolt was very strong, and it evidently blew out the phone line, because I haven't been able to go online, which is why you have enjoyed peace and quiet for the last couple days.
This was written Sunday, posted Tuesday, and backdated.

今天下午打雷，打了好一回，天黑雲厚，好像準備下起豪雨來，結果呸呸呸，下了幾滴小雨就game over啦。

今年奇怪，都這樣，雷大雨小。是不是天人感應，我不敢說，可是極像President Bean綠色政權：雷大雨小。

Banzi gave me a ride to New Store from Wulai, so I got to the city well ahead of schedule. I bought a sub and took it to the park to eat, since the weather was so nice. My favorite bench by the pond was empty. I admired an egret, the turtles, the goldfish, and my sandwich, although in different ways. James lent me a book by Robert Parker, so I got that out and started reading as I ate.

Soon my attention was distracted by a motion. On the rock in front of me sat a tqrat\樹鵲\Himalayan Tree Pie {Dendrocitta formosae}. It was almost within reach, staring at me intensely. I had never seen this sort of bird in the city. I was surprised by its appearing there, and asked, "Tqrat, nanu whan su qani? Nyut su tkari bi? Usa tlahuy, tqrat rangi." (Tqrat, what are you doing here? Are you lost? Go back to the mountains and jungles, tqrat friend.) It looked at me very carefully for a few more moments, and flapped off into the sky.

The King of Laos
When I was 18, living in Saigon, my friends Quang and Toan gleefully told me that they wanted to introduce me to the King of Laos.

"The king of Laos?" I asked, "You know the king of Laos? What's he doing in Saigon, anyway?" It turns out that it was a punning nickname. Vuong lao (don't have Viet Namese on this computer): 惘憭: befuddled, wandering around in a fog,糊塗, is very similar to Vuong Lao:王寮: the King of Laos. The King's glasses were thick enough to be bulletproof, so he was not drafted into the military. He was a journalist, and a photographer. They showed me a photo in the paper that the King had taken, ARVN troops charging towards the Viet Cong.

"Do you notice anything about the photo?”

"No, well, it's a good photo, but what about it?”

"It's taken from the front." Then it dawned on me. Yes, the photo showed the faces of the ARVN troops charging into combat, not their behinds.

"How on earth did he do that?" They explained that if the King had information that the troops were charging at, say, 5AM, he would start crawling forward from their front lines at about 4. He would find a comfortable place a few paces in front of the Viet Cong – he was very careful to be quiet so he wouldn't bother them – turn his back on them, and wait to take pictures of the charging ARVN soldiers. We're talking about somebody no life insurance company would even allow to phone them.

"He is unbelievably brave.”

"That's what we're not sure about. We sometimes wonder if he has really figured out what he is doing," Quang and Toan said with huge smiles on their faces. "That's why we call him the King of Laos.”

"So he's not really the King of Laos.”

"No, the real king lives in Vientiane.”

"What's your friend's real name?”

"His family name is Do 杜, the same as Toan. His given name is Ngoc Yen," 玉燕, Jade Swallow.

That is how I met the man who would later be known in Cali as Yen Do. He was a charming man, warm, buoyant, unfailingly cheerful, unfailingly friendly, always ready with a smile as big as his squint. And yes, unbelievably brave, as Quang and Toan knew very well.

He proved to be the King of Laos. He was so intelligent that I sometimes wondered if his shenanigans were really unplanned, or entertainments for a country battered by invaders from the North.

To be honest, I suspect the former. Thanks to Yen, I had some marvelous adventures and survived all of them. Some other time I will write down some of those.

My last Yen-powered adventure wrapped up with me pushing a friend's crippled motorcycle along a deserted jungle road, miles from Hue, hoping the communist guerillas wouldn't notice us.

Within a year, the northern invaders conquered the south and stamped out the few freedoms the people had had. My mother was in the States when the Republic of Viet Nam fell. We had no news of our friends.

Then the boat people.

Several years later, when my mother was living in Honolulu, she jubilantly sent me a clipping about the boat people who had settled in the US. She circled the section that told about the thriving Viet Kieu 越僑 community in Orange County, California, where they even had their own Viet Namese language newspaper, run by the veteran VN journalist, Do Ngoc Yen! She wrote a comment about how happy she was to read that he was ok.

I immediately wrote back telling Mom to find some way to get in touch with our old friend. She did, and Yen wrote back. His paper, Nguoi Viet, was prospering, the largest VN language newspaper outside of Viet Nam. However, it was a closed book to anybody besides the Viet Kieu, and even many young Viet Namese did not read the language well. He planned to start an English section. Mom flew to Orange County to work for the paper. She still works there now, banging along on all eight cylinders.

Yen worked hard and long at the paper, contributing immeasurably to the community. However, diabetes did what communist aggression could not, and for years dear old Yen has not enjoyed good health.

Today I received news that he succumbed to diabetes last week. The news is not unexpected, but I will always miss his smile.

Today is a sad day, but I can't help laughing as I write this, because the Yen I knew brought so much good cheer.

Since Meghan came, I have been brushing up on my long-neglected LA Talk.

I pointed to the shoes she had just put on and asked, Do you call those sneakers?

No, these are chucks.

Chucks? I've never heard of that.

Well, that's what this kind of shoe is called.

Do people still say sneakers anymore?

No, not really.

Actually, I always thought sneakers was more East Coast. We used to call those tennis shoes, or tennies. In LA, anyway. Back on the East Coast they were sneakers.

You might call some shoes tennis shoes.

Do people say tennies any more?

No, not at all.

But you still call them tennis shoes.

Sure, at least in LA.

How about sports shoes? (note: this is the favored term in Chinese English.)

Sports shoes? Never heard of that.

Well, do they still call hiking boots hiking boots?

Hiking boots, oh yeah, that hasn't changed.

Makes me glad I'm barefoot most of the time. But we used to call these things thongs, and now it seems people say flip-flops.

I call them thongs, too, or zoris, but yeah, now people say flip-flops.

Maybe thongs is just LA.

Could be.

And of course you know zoris is Japanese, comes from 草履 in Chinese.

But a lot of people don't say that, or thongs, even.

Yeah, flip-flops.

And so forth. Now, the interesting thing that struck me was that words for footwear change from time to time and place to place, but a hat is a hat, a shirt is a shirt, and pants are pants, with no apologies to Gertrude Stein. But why do the words for shoes keep changing?

Would Dr Freud care to comment?

Ngasan na kneiring Eban在路邊有一塊地。七八年前，烏來溫泉剛開始旺的時候，他們家人設攤賣原住民食物。外面人來烏來投資溫泉，對當地人只有壞處沒有好處；設攤，原住民總可以藉人潮賺一點錢。不久，縣政府下令拆除路邊攤；原住民的攤子，全部拆掉，平地人的攤子原封不動，繼續營業。

蘇縣長的部署後來把這塊地鋪柏油，作小停車場，讓遊客免費停車。聽說沒問地主的意見，但細節我不清潔。恩恩怨怨姑不談，對面山巒風景很美吧：有圖為證。

但是有一個現象實在令我費解。偶有遊客停在停車場擺桌椅歇腳，有的泡茶，有的吃便當。可是六七年來，我每一次看到遊客坐那兒，他們的躺椅、登山椅、布椅等等諸如此類，一律背著風景，面向馬路看馬路旁的水泥擋土牆。我從來沒看過遊客的椅子面向山景。

我真不懂。他們很懷念都市的柏油、水泥嗎？那麼喜歡看來來往往汽車的話，何必到山上來？真不懂。

管它的，我自己看就好了。

可是讀者您萬一不小心到我們美麗的風景區的話，千萬記住規矩：都市人不准看山！！不可以看風景！！只准看汽車、柏油！！切記切記！！

收到了這麼一封email:
|||+++
八月26日剛好是星期六，那天大家可以到高一點的地方等到凌晨看月亮！
兩百七十二年後才會再出現一次，機會難得！請記下這一天並且不要錯過這次難得的機會。
從八月份開始，火星將會在晚上呈現出最明亮的時候。
>>>
從肉眼來看，它會像月亮那麼大。
>>>
繞著地球走了34.56英里(?似有誤)後，它的大小將在2006年8月27號達到最大。
在2006年8月27日淩晨00:30一定要觀看哦！那時天空會看上去有兩個月亮！
相同的景觀再出現將會在2278年。一定要轉發給你的朋友因為一旦錯過這次，我們沒有機會再次見到這樣的景觀了。
|||+++

真假對錯，我不敢說，但我敢預言，若此消息屬實，2006年8月27日淩晨00:30，烏來不是傾盆大雨，就是烏雲密佈。
等著瞧吧。

The Catholic Church has interesting priorities. Since at least the 7th century, kneeling has been part of the Catholic worship. That's fine, it shows respect. The people are worshipping, right?

I have not been following the dogma, but apparently now kneeling is considered wrong, so Catholics are not permitted to kneel in worship. Some believers prefer to kneel. Father Martin Tran of the Diocese of Orange, in Orange County, California, has stated that kneeling "is clearly rebellion, disobedience, and mortal sin.”

Mortal sin. Aren't their priorities wonderful? They should be happy people are coming to church at all, but instead, blind obedience is paramount. You'd think they might find other more pressing social problems to worry about, but no, obedience is most important.

Buddhists kneel a lot. I used to joke, How can you tell a real Buddhist? Have him kneel on cement for twenty minutes. If he rubs his knees when he stands up, he hasn't gotten into things yet.

But that was just a joke, and I never claimed it was a real rib-tickler. In Buddhist ceremonies, if you can kneel, so much the better, but if you don't want to, or don't have the strength, why, you just sit by the side. No big deal. It's where you heart is that's more important, not your knees.

The other joke. How can you tell a real Buddhist? By the calluses on his forehead.

三貼
Three grade school boys were whooping it up as they zigged and zagged up the road on a motorcycle. No, it's not legal for ten year olds to drive motorcycles, but if the Legislators don't want Aborigine kids driving in their own village, let them come enforce their laws themselves.

They caught up with me again at the bridge. They came up behind me, riding on the sidewalk. I called out, "Hey, hey, hey, you aren't supposed to be riding on the sidewalk, you’re supposed to be on the asphalt! Your motorcycle is supposed to be on the black part of the road, on the black asphalt, not on the tiles on the sidewalk!”

One boy shouted back, "Yugan, don't you see? Some of the tiles are black. We are riding on the black tiles, not on the white tiles, so we are good little boys, we are doing just as you say, we are riding on the black part!”

Welcome Meghan Potter/小綾 to Taiwan!

Napoleon's Birthday
City people lose the moon. Lights and signs and cars all eviscerate its brilliance. Not so in the mountains, removed from the light pollution our local government works so hard to effect. Even the waning moon of lunar 21st was enough to pull me from my pillow. I sat in the hammock, rocking gently, listening to the frogs, insects, wind, and the faraway roar of the stream. High overhead, a jet streaked due east. Much later, the sound arrived. I always get sentimental when I see jets flying through the night. The paling moon was no longer strong enough to wash the stars off the sky. Orion held his own. I covered myself with a light blanket, and rocked until sleep claimed me again.

為國爭光
前幾天，一位臺灣男生到美國念書，在LA過海關，海關問他身上帶了多少美金？他說 (按照規矩) 1 萬元以下。海關問：真的嗎？你們臺灣人不是都很有錢嗎？你們的總統也很有錢啊！...他沒回答。停了一會兒，海關又加上一句：他的錢都從 SOGO 來。......

A bus driver once told me, if you're not confident in the driver, never ride shotgun, always sit behind the driver, because the driver will always turn the wheel to protect himself.

The road in from the city goes up gradually about a hundred meters in elevation in four kilometers of road, turns a corner, and drops 90 meters in less than one kilometer. 新烏路從新店升百公尺，過花園新城到伸丈板左轉劇降。

Friday afternoon someone was driving a big truck, not a flatbed, the kind for hauling gravel or sand, a big truck, towards Wulai. As soon as he turned that corner at 伸丈板and started coming downhill, he realized he had no brakes at all. Nothing. Fortunately, traffic was light and the driver was calm, cool, and collected, so he crossed to the other side of the road and started scraping the wall to slow himself down (mountain to the left, drop off to the right). He rode straight through a bunch of Taipower's transformers and smashed his truck into the edge of the supporting wall near 櫻花山莊. The entire front of the truck had a huge V in it. But he stopped himself before he lost control.

Quick thinking, if you ask me. The driver escaped unscathed. The 捆工\loader, sitting shotgun, suffered minor injuries, but he was trapped in his seat by the folded steel for several hours.

Woman: Aren't your feet hot on the pavement?
Little barefoot boy: Yeah, but that's okay. The ground is really hot, too.

--Washington Square Park

via Overheard in New York, Aug 11, 2006

I really really like this.

I'm really mad at the biased liberal press. Vice President Cheney has not shot anybody for months, but do they report that? No they do not. They only focus on the negative. Why can't they say something positive for a change? Why do they hate America? How can we win the war on terrorism with such biased reporting?

On July 2, 2006 on this blog I posted a piece about India and China. Today I would like to discuss something that perplexes me.

Over the last ten or fifteen years, I have been astonished, again and again, by the writing of Indian authors, especially women. They write in English with such clarity, beauty, skill, and style, that I am lost in admiration.

For an example, find if you can the August 2006 issue of the Smithsonian, and read their feature, The Last Page, this month an essay by Niranjana Iyer. This lighthearted piece, titled Weight of the World, is a nearly flawless gem. No matter how you look at it – tone, content, sentence structure, usage – it is an amazingly well written article (although I would quibble about a comma or two).

Now my question is, where did all this talent come from? Why are contemporary Indian women such good authors? Is there something in their psyche, in their social structure, in their schooling, what is it?

My impression of Indians has always been: verbose. An Indian will talk you to death. I consider myself a hardworking Buddhist, but I have to admit, especially with my background in Chinese literature, I get vexed by the loquacity of the sutras.

Sariputra uncovered his right shoulder and genuflected and pressed his palms together and said, Oh great Baghivata, Oh great Buddha, I have a question to ask.

The Buddha said, Yes, Sariputra, you have uncovered your right shoulder and you have genuflected and you have pressed your palms together, and now you will ask a question. This is very good, this is very good. Oh Sariputra, tell me, you have uncovered your right shoulder and you have genuflected and you have pressed your palms together to ask a question, so what is this question for which you have uncovered your right shoulder and you have genuflected and you have pressed your palms together?

Sariputra said, Oh great Baghivata, Oh Teacher, I have uncovered my right shoulder and genuflected and pressed my palms together to ask you a question, and the question which I have uncovered my right shoulder and genuflected and pressed my palms together, to ask is, Have you seen my glasses? I put them somewhere. I have looked for glasses everywhere. I have looked in the main meditation area, but my glasses are not in the main meditation area. I have looked in the place where we eat, but my glasses are not in the place where we eat. I have looked in the place where we take our rest at night, but my glasses are not blah blah blah, so I have uncovered my right shoulder and genuflected and pressed my palms together to ask Baghivata this question, have you seen my glasses?

And the Buddha said, Oh Sariputra, you have uncovered your right shoulder and you have genuflected and you have pressed your palms together to ask me where your glasses are. First, Oh Sariputra, let me remind you that life is ever in change, life is impermanent. Understand impermanence, oh Sariputra, and you will find a great truth of life. Your glasses came to the aid of your eyes, and eventually it is certain that your glasses will no longer aid your eyes, as the essence of the universe is impermanence.

Sariputra said, This is very good.

The Buddha said, But oh Sariputra, you say you can't find your glasses, so you have uncovered your right shoulder and you have genuflected and you have pressed your palms together to ask me, but first, oh Sariputra, let me ask you, What is the self that seeks these glasses? Are you aware of the self that feels the glasses should be found? Seek out that self, Sariputra, blah blah blah.

Sariputra shed tears and said, This is very good.

The Buddha said, Oh Sariputra, you say you can't find your glasses, so you have uncovered your right shoulder and you have genuflected and you have pressed your palms together, but have you looked on the top of your head? For there I see your glasses, oh Sariputra, blah blah blah for page after page.

At the other extreme lies the Chinese language, concise and compact, with not a syllable wasted. This is especially true of Classical Chinese, which may be the densest and most economical language there is. Many great poems are only sixteen or twenty words long. A long poem might run up to a couple hundred words.

My favorite model for good writing is 左傳, the Tso Commentary on Spring and Autumn, a Confucian work written say around the time of the Buddha. In that book, my favorite example of tight writing is the account of a rebellion in Chi which took place in 686 BC. The entire story of the rebellion, including plotting, motives, deep psychological insight, close portrayal of character, and all the action, is packed into just under three hundred words, of which about forty are names. 左莊八年傳：齊侯使連稱、管至父戍葵丘。瓜時而往。曰、及瓜而代。朞戍，公問不至。請代。弗許。故謀作亂。僖公之母弟曰夷仲年，生公孫無知。有寵于僖公。衣服禮秩如適。襄公黜之。二人因之以作亂。連稱有從妹在公宮，無寵。使間公。曰、捷，吾以汝為夫人。冬十二月。齊侯遊于姑棼，遂田于貝丘。見大豕。從者曰、公子彭生也。公怒，曰、彭生敢見！射之。豕人立而啼。公懼，墜于車，傷足喪履。反誅履于徒人費。弗得。鞭之見血。走出，遇賊于門。劫而束之。費曰、我奚禦哉！袒而示之背，信之。費請先入。伏公而出鬥，死于門中。石之紛如死于階下。遂入。殺孟陽于牀。曰、非君，不顓。見公之足于戶下。遂弒之而立無知。
(Of course this style of writing makes demands on the reader: THINK!)

In Indian writing, with three hundred words, the guy's just uncovered his right shoulder and started to genuflect. But read these modern Indian writers and shake your head in admiration. Where have they come from?

臺大醫院一年一個名額，醫護人員拿公費到美國研究。龐大的臺大醫院，人那麼多，你猜今年選上的是誰？不偏不倚，恰恰好是官司纏身的駙馬爺！讓他拿納稅人的血汗錢到美國，避開官司，在美可以換簽證換綠卡換護照永不回臺到法院辦案，當然是經過很客觀、很公平的遴選~~~~見鬼!!把我們老百姓當儍子!

早已風聞，六年來臺大醫院考績評審標準不是醫術、學識、人品、醫德，而是黨籍、省籍，以臺南籍民進黨員第一優先：我終于相信了。

President Bean向來給我的印象是，他以為自己是天下最聰明的人，可以唬得過天下所有人。如果他是正人君子；如果尊重法律程序；如果心裡對民主還存一絲的重視；如果把人民看在眼裡的話，他應該第一個嚴禁女婿逃亡法外，應該堅持女婿給國民、國法一個交代…哈哈哈，if.

Father's Day
August 8 is Father's Day in Taiwan. I found something I wrote in 1980, and figured today would be a good day to post it.
Then he decided to run for Sheriff. My mother didn't even know until she heard it on the radio.

That must have really made her happy.

Oh yeah, she was driving to work and she had the radio on, and she heard John Cramblit for Sheriff, so she figured it had to be him.

How did he do?

He only got 500 votes out of a town of 40,000.

That's not very good.

I know. The next day he put an ad in the paper saying, There are only 500 intelligent people in this town.

That's like my father, we were one of three Eastern European families in this ultra-conservative WASP community, and we were one of the two Democrat families. Everybody loved us, especially since my brother was always making trouble in school. He was always in the principal's office and getting suspended, and my father came out and ran for the Board of Education.

How did he do?

Not too bad, the population of the place was about 13,000, and he got about 130 votes, I think.

Well, that's better than my father.

So what did he do after the bit with the sheriff?

He had two restaurants, and they were doing pretty well, so he bought a third one, and that pulled the other two down, so we had to skip town.

Oh yeah?

Yeah, he bought this old 1946 Dodge bus, it was painted silver, so we loaded all the stuff we could into the back of the bus and slipped out of town at four o'clock in the morning. You know, we took all the back roads out through the fields and started heading west.

The only thing was we had four tons of furniture in this bus that could only carry a one ton load, and the damned thing was what, 15, 16 years old, and we had to stop every fifteen miles to put water in the engine. So every time we saw a ditch or something, we had to stop and fill up the water bottles.

What about school? Didn't you have to go to school?

No, that was during summer vacation.

Well, that's pretty exciting for a kid.

Are you kidding? That was the most mortifying time of my life. Also cause Dad liked to hunt, and he had these trophies, you know, squirrel heads and deer heads hung all over the place. He'd sit up there and wear a derby and drive. We'd pull into a motel, and a lot of them wouldn't let us stay, so my dad'd park out in front of their place on the street, so they'd phone the cops and have them chase us away. It was really awful!

So what'd you do the rest of the summer?

Rest of the summer? It took us three months to get there!

Huh? Where'd you go?

We just went from Ohio to Seattle, but the bus was so old, the fastest it could go was forty miles an hour, and that was only when we were going downhill.

So did you ever have any trouble from the people in your hometown? I mean, they never got paid, right?

Naah, my dad left the house and some property and let them figure it out.

So what'd you do in Seattle?

Well, after we'd been there for a while, there was the Alaska earthquake, so my dad went up there to be a carpenter, because they needed a lot of construction.

Yeah, I guess so.

The problem was, he could never keep his accounts straight. You know, he only just barely got through fifth grade. My mother always kept telling him to keep records of what he bought and sold, but he could just never get used to using paper. When he bought something, he'd write the figures on a 2x4. When my mother'd ask him for his accounts, he'd hand her this 2x4.

Are they still in Alaska?

Nah, my father's got a restaurant now. Y'know, he's always wanted to run restaurants.

Is he a good cook?

Not really.

So how's business?

Last time they wrote, their business was doing like eleven dollars a day.

That's not too hot.

So what about your father?

My father always wanted to be a businessman, but he's just not cut out for it. We lived in Illinois for five years on a government project when I was a kid. Then he took the money and we went to Washington to do business.

State?

No, DC.

What kind of business?

You ever hear of Nutriobio?

Nope.

It was some kind of vitamin supplement you were supposed to take with meals and stuff like that and it'd make you all healthy. They had a whole setup, lots of brochures and literature. Dad even had a projector and a film he'd show of the Nutriobio airplane, you know, one of those two seaters, and they'd show it flying all over the place with Nutriobio written on the plane.

How did he do?

Gee, we moved to DC in what, December, and he was bankrupt by April, and that's when we moved to California, cause there was another government project he got a job with there. Aerospace.

How was the stuff?

I dunno. I remember we'd get this big row of pills, a big blue green one, and a couple little tan ones, and stuff like that. Every meal. Even after we moved to California, we were eating the stuff, I guess we were eating the surplus, cause we had a couple cases of it. Finally one day when he was out, we took it out into the side garden and dug a big hole and dumped it all in.

Actually, I guess it must have been pretty good stuff, cause man, the place where we buried it, the grass grew about three times as tall as anywhere else. And our dog used to like to eat that grass, so maybe it was pretty good stuff after all.

Look at that, count 'em, not one, but three typhoons coming in. Should be fun.

May all mariners ride them through safely.

轉
The Viet Cong captured a soldier. To break his spirit, they had him dig a pit as deep as his chin. They confined him to this tiny prison. He spent day after day, week after week, month after month in his pit, standing, sitting, lying down as best he could to sleep. He could see no further than the soil and grass which blocked his view.
First he scrutinized the soil, as there was nothing else to see. Then the little weeds, and the roots, the little flowers, and their lives. Then the insects of the pit drew his attention. Snails and beetles and caterpillars! Fascinated by the life thriving before his eyes, the soldier grew more and more cheerful, day by day, week by week, month by month. What a wonderful world he had discovered!

老兵的自述
一位老先生講的，我盡量逐字抄錄。
「我們老兵是時代的犧牲品。我們從大陸來保衛臺灣，現在的執政黨希望我們趕快死。好幾次，民進黨議員、候選人、辦事人當我的面叫我趕快死。我的同鄉都有這個經驗。

「那個年代，中共準備血洗臺灣，沒有得逞，因為我們保衛臺灣，毛澤東才沒來滅掉臺灣，現在他們有權有地位的大官看到我們沒權沒地位的老兵，就叫我們趕快死。

「那個時候我們從大陸來，說反攻大陸，其實老蔣心裡有數，所以開了一條中西橫貫公路，說是建設臺灣，可是另一個目的是讓我們多餘的軍人快死。哪一個兵會發牢騷，就叫他去作中橫，作兩年就可以退伍。去作，因為那時臺灣還是很落後，工具、技術都不好，死了多少兵!

「我一個同鄉也是會發牢騷的，被騙去開中橫，他是燒菜的。他說有一天他把菜燒好了，等大家回來吃，結果一個連，沒有一個人回來，全部都被活埋了。因為他們裝備不好，技術也不好，本來要炸這邊，沒想到另一邊也炸下來了，全部都被活埋，沒有一個回來。這是他親眼看到的、親自跟我說的。我們是犧牲品。

「活埋，沒人追問，因為上級命令，不准結婚，所以都是單身的，都沒有家屬。

「臺灣跟沙烏地阿拉伯關係很特別，臺灣有今天，也是沙烏地阿拉伯幫忙。他們給中華民國貸款，利息固定，而且很低，另外油價也有優惠。可是有代價，代價是我們老兵付的。沙烏地阿拉伯給中華民國這麼優厚的待遇，可是條件是，最難、最危險的工程，一定要中華民國作。榮工處。你知道死了多少人嗎？都是榮民，都是單身的，所以死了以後，賠償金給國庫了，因為沒有家屬。上級命令，不准結婚。臺灣有錢，我們是犧牲品。

「臺灣有幾個看過戰爭？老蔣不准美國人在臺灣打日本人，所以臺灣人不懂甚麼叫做戰爭，沒有幾個拿了鎗拿了刀在戰場上廝殺。

「我沒有念書。小時候家裡太窮，十三、四歲就拿起鎗去作戰。我們本來是游擊隊，國民政府來臺灣以後，我們在大陸打游擊仗打了很多年才來臺灣，正式當兵，這個時候才有機會讀書認字。我作兵作了二十年才退伍。前幾天有一個民進黨的官指著我的臉說我的退休金是民脂民膏，我說，我是老兵，文化水準不高，可是你是知識份子，你這個不知道嗎？我沒有領退休金，他們只給我利息，退休金本金由政府來「保管」，我只能拿利息，不拿本金，你這個不知道嗎？可是這些人不在乎實相，他們只會作宣傳。」

With liberty and justice for all…..
Radio celebrity Rush Limbaugh, noted for his outspoken conservatism and law and order stance, was arrested for violating prescription drug laws when he was found to be in possession of painkillers which he was using for recreation. His sentence was addiction treatment, and if he complies with his plea bargain, his conviction will be erased.

Richard Paey of Florida had severe spinal injuries as the result of an automobile accident, which confined him to a wheelchair. Several surgeries have been unsuccessful, leaving Paey in constant pain. To relieve the spinal pain, he violated prescription drug laws in almost exactly the same way as Limbaugh, with two differences. Paey needs the drugs to help relieve the unending pain; Paey got sentenced to 25 years in prison.

Paey is appealing his sentence. Good luck. It might help if he got on the radio and started praising the war in Iraq.

….who are rich, famous, and Republican

Dave Barry may have been the one who said it, I forget, but whoever said it spoke for all men when he said:
Ladies, men could care less whether your eyebrows are long or short or arched or straight or anything. You've got two of them? Good enough. That's all we want. Get over it.

Maybe not the exact quote, but a worthy sentiment. A thousand years ago poets may have gotten off on ladies’ eyebrows, but poets have always been weird, and we've got other points of interest now.

Nothing is more awful than eyebrows shaved and painted over. Two of them? Okay, good enough, let it go.

Allow me to amend that: the only thing more awful than eyebrows shaved and painted over is eyebrows tattooed on.

古玉圖考云玏，俗名穩步。玏疑是馬鞭之柄。
但所見玉玏，孔僅 三五 mm， 能束幾毛？
按，此玏字，又从玉勒聲，電腦无此字，姑以玏字。段注、廣韻均以[勒玉]玏同字。但疑其名為玏，以形似馬勒，而用途未詳。俗名穩步，得之矣。佩帶器耳与。

然說文玉部，(電腦无斯字，上勒下玉)，[玉今][勒玉]也，从玉勒聲。盧則切、段一部。
[玉今]如琀字、刪口。打這則好難。也不好看。辛苦啦~
玉部，[玉今]，[玉今]玏、石之次玉者。从玉今聲。古函切、段古七部。
司馬相如子虛賦：其石則瑊玏玄厲。張揖注：瑊玏，石之次玉者。
郭璞曰，瑊玏，似玉之石。
瑊顯然為[玉今]俗體。[玉今]从玉今聲，今居吟切，段七部；瑊，从玉咸聲，咸胡讒切，段古七部，同。
[勒玉]从玉勒聲，勒从革力聲，故[勒玉]、玏均力聲，[玉今][勒玉]、瑊玏可謂轉注。

可見，玏本與瑊連語為玉名，非器名。今所謂玏，不知古人何名。何時以玏名斯器、亦待攷。國家興亾，這不是一個很大的問題。不過，還是好奇。

Make of this what you will

Many years ago, my mother met an elderly missionary who as a young man had gone to evangelize Yap, which has always been the most primitive island of the Pacific. He told this story in all earnestness at their church gathering. My mother said he was a tall man, taller than me, so he would have stood over 180cm.

Upon arriving in Yap, he respectfully presented himself to the elders of a village and explained his wish to spread the word of his god. The elders said, "There is a time for everything. When we have our village gathering, you may speak, but you may speak only when we say so. Do not speak without our permission." This was reasonable, so the missionary readily agreed.

Within days, the village held a gathering. Three girls stood in the middle of an open flat space. The villagers formed a circle around them. The minister joined the circle. Everybody turned the same direction so they formed a continuous line. They began dancing, a slow, simple shuffle that the missionary picked up within moments, and danced with the best of them. The circle sang a monotonous chant. The missionary stole a peek at the three girls in the center. They were standing still, and seemed to have their eyes shut as if they were falling asleep.

Boring. The same simple shuffle and monotonous chant, for about an hour. The missionary stole another peek at the three girls in the center who were still standing still. He couldn't believe his eyes. Their feet were hovering inches above the ground. He managed to keep dancing. He looked and looked as the line circled the girls, but no matter what direction he looked at them from, the three motionless girls seemed to be hovering inches above the ground.

Half an hour later they were knee high off the ground. The missionary had no idea what was going on, but he was absolutely certain of what he saw. He was a sober, cautious man, but he said with no doubt that the girls were not standing on anything tangible, but were floating in the air. There were no props, nobody was near the girls, and the missionary was honest enough to face as a fact that there were three motionless girls floating off the ground.

After another hour or so of chanting and dancing, the girls were standing in midair, high enough so that the tall missionary looked upwards to see the soles of their feet, standing on nothing, high above his head.

With no noticeable signal, the dancing and chanting stopped. Nobody seemed very interested in the girls hovering overhead, or exhilarated by the dancing. They just stopped, that's all.

The village elders came to the missionary, and told him, "Now is the time for you to tell us what you have to say about your god."

"But what about them?" he asked, motioning to the motionless girls suspended in midair.

"Oh, they're all right. We'll bring them down later. You may begin now." Nobody seemed alarmed at the maidens dangling up there, or even interested. Nobody, that is, but the missionary.

This was a contingency not specifically dealt with in his seminary training. No doubt about it, he felt discomfited looking up at soles when he had come to save souls. He tentatively chose to begin sort of generally, as it were, and work his way into things, so he somewhat hesitantly called out, "Praise the lord!" Thud! No sooner had the words passed his lips than the suspended maidens dropped to the earth. They were hurt by the fall.

The elders immediately revoked his permission to evangelize. Everybody was polite, there was no shouting or finger-pointing, but that was the end of his missionary work in Yap. He left the island, never to return, never to figure out just what had happened.

Lest we forget: Hungary
Once my sister Steph met a woman a few years older than her from Hungary. Steph said she remembered the cover of Life magazine of the Hungarian revolution. The Hungarian woman said she was a little girl in Hungary then, living in a rural area, and her mother had sent her to the store for a loaf of bread. She was walking home with the bread when she heard a huge deep loud sound, rumbling and getting louder. She had no idea what it was, but instinctively threw herself down the embankment and hid as best she could by hugging the side there, in sparse little bushes. She looked up and saw Russian tanks like MOUNTAINS moving around the curve in the road where she froze until they passed, and then streaked home. That was the Russian tanks rolling in to Hungary.

Lest we forget: Czechoslovakia
One of the geologists from CalTech (where my mother worked) happened to be in Prague in 1968 when the Russian tanks came to crush the sprouts of freedom. He put on a bolo tie and tried to look as American as possible. The Czechs surreptitiously told him, "Don't forget us."

All's well that ends well.
||||
=====
Lest we end on too somber a note: Czechoslovakia
I remember this one from the Soviet occupation of Prague. Richard the Red, our beloved Russian teacher, told this one.
A Czech rushed into a police station and reported to the officer on duty, "A Swiss soldier just stole my Russian watch!”
The officer was puzzled, and then said, "Oh, a Russian soldier stole your Swiss watch."
The citizen pointed at the officer and said, "YOU said it!”

My mother reports a phone conversation early one evening last week.
Mom: Hello.
Caller: This is Critical Data Design. Is your mother in?
Mom: I'm 87. Will that help you?
Caller: …. CLUNK….
_____
Her voice is youthful, but maybe not that youthful.
I just hope the caller had the sense to guffaw after hanging up.

人无十全十美，因為是人：必有缺陷。但正因為是人，可以修習學進，生非定局，後日可攻瑕就瑜。

大攷題是，吾寧切磋琢磨、泯惡謀善？或賭氣曰，「爛就爛，我就是如此」？

Feed a cold, starve a fever
Around 2 Monday morning, I kicked my blanket. By the time I woke up, I was cold through and through. The temperature was about 20C.

The resulting fever didn't last very long, but sapped every ounce of strength from my body. I have spent most of the week flat on my back. Turning over required preparation of at least twenty minutes. Since my last posting on this blog, I have ingested a total of
1/8 of a watermelon;
2.4 菜包/stuffed buns;
2 bunches of grapes;
and tray after tray of ice cubes (that's my medicine).

Feeding the dogs entails opening the back door, lifting the plastic lid on the kibbles container, scooping out three bowls of kibbles, placing them on the ground, and stepping back indoors. Such exertion exhausted me so thoroughly that I slept half an hour immediately.

Today I am stronger, and rushing to prepare recording scripts for my new Listening course. Type twenty minutes, go lie down another twenty. I'll get it done. At least today I can sit up.

But then, a strong typhoon snaps away deadwood and dredges turgid streambeds.

I can't recall having been so poleaxed by sickness. Ling sent me delicious blue tortilla chips (yum yum!); Sunday night I opened a bag that had a very small amount of onion in it. A very small amount, last on the list of ingredients, but present. I ate a couple handfuls and decided to see what happened. Voila. Onion had not entered my body for over 20 years. Maybe the onion upset my system so that it was not able to respond to the fever properly.

Tuesday I had to go teach. Dragging myself along, I was stupefied by the sight of people smoking. People, don't you know how precious health is? I've just had a fever, it'll be okay naturally, but what are you doing to yourselves with those cigarets? Treasure your health!

________
FYI: Hindu and Buddhist vegetarians do not eat onion, garlic, leeks, shallots, and asafetida, because they upset mental, physical, and spiritual balance.

One of my more cultivated pursuits is Wedding Betting, in which you are shown a photo of the happy couple, a caption, and asked, How long will this couple last?
This couple wins my vote for class, forthrightness, and good luck. Wow, the first try! Notice the groom's elegant suit, which matches the dog and the trailer. The designer ripped those jeans personally, and chose the boots specifically to match the carnation in his lapel.

Beaula and Cecil
We got preg on the first try!

http://www.weddingbetting.com/

for that matter, who did? the wife or the dog?

I Didn't Know Cheney Had Kids That Age

Amherst alum: So we're looking over the applications, and there are all these amazing kids. Won the Westinghouse, worked for the UN. And the questions: "Who do you most look up to?" "My parents, because they're immigrants, and they taught me to work hard." And with each of them it's like, "in". And then we get to this one, it's like, "What's a recent intellectually stimulating experience?" The answer is, "I love my dog, walking my dog." Stuff like that. On and on, really ridiculous. And then, "Who do you most look up to?" The answer: "my parents, especially my dad. He's the President of the United States." And we look at each other, and Steve is like, "in."

--Williamsburg

Overheard by: Julia Mandell

via Overheard in New York, Jul 16, 2006

Nobody Voted For Lex, Though

In Superman Returns, Lex Luthor is explaining his plans for attaining huge amounts of land, power, and wealth at the expense of billions of people's lives.

Man, shouting: George Bush!

--Magic Johnson/AMC Theater, 124th St.

Overheard by: S

via Overheard in New York, Jul 14, 2006

I am not much of a dog trainer. Tlahuy and Yumin will sit and come on command, if and only if they feel like it, and that's as far as it goes. One more: stay. That was the hardest to teach. I never tie them up. They follow me everywhere. How to make them stay when I go to the city? For Tlahuy, Bengax, and Yumin, it was a long, arduous process, involving tying them to the chain with a breakable string as I rushed downhill. The theory was that it would take them long enough to break the string that I could get out of range. Many times I had to scoop them in my arms and carry them home again when they caught up with me…

Be that as it may, the dogs are incredibly sensitive. They know when I am getting ready to take them for a walk. I may be upstairs, but before I come downstairs with the intention of taking them for a walk, they know it. I have searched for any physical signs, but have discerned none. They also know when I am going to tell them to stay. When I am going to the city, Tlahuy and Yumin know, and act upset, but at least they stay put (if you're interested in this line, be sure to visit http://www.sheldrake.org/).

so I have been worried about Byajing. She doesn't just follow me, she likes to bump into my heels as I walk. She is picking up the idea of sit, but how to train her to stay? What I have been doing is shutting her in the first floor bathroom when I go to the city, until she is trained.

To my great surprise, Yumin is training her for me. Yesterday afternoon, when I left, Tlahuy was sitting by the door looking silly and distressed, thumping the ground with his powerful tale; this is how he usually acts when I leave. Yumin had led Byajing to the back of the house, and kept her there as I rushed downhill. Byajing did not follow me. I was astonished, and grateful to Yumin for his help.

+++
but there's a sequel…
ten minutes down the road, Dali's grandchildren, Wen and Dali drove by on their way to the city, and picked me up. (Dali grandfather is the chief; I live uphill from them; they are my closest neighbors. Grandfather and grandson are both Dali.) When we got to the bridge, Hanna (their mother) phoned and told them she was getting a ride uphill, so she wanted Dali to ride the motorcycle home; better the son get wet than the mother. Dali drove to get the motorcycle, and rode it home as Wen drove home; then we would head to the city again.

Wen and I got to their house before Dali did, and what a sight met my eyes! Have you seen films of how lions or leopards slink stealthily towards their prey? Who should I see but Yumin the Beagle slinking along silently, sneaking up on Dali's dogs’ food dishes. I feed Yumin all he wants, but I think he enjoys the thrill of the hunt. I had never seen him moving so softly or silently. The hunter on the prowl.

I can be pretty soft and silent too. I slipped out of the car and snuck up on him. Then I suddenly showed myself, with my hands on my hips. Yumin leapt into the air, ears flying, turned around in midair, and swooooosh was OUT OF THERE racing uphill like greased lightning before I had a chance to say a word.

oops
今早誦彌陀經時，剛開始的點名簿…如是等諸大弟子、并諸菩薩摩訶薩、文殊師利法王子、阿逸多菩薩、乾託訶提菩薩、常精進菩薩、與如是等大菩薩及釋提桓因等…
結果誦成…如是等諸大弟子、并諸菩薩摩訶薩、文殊師利法王子、阿逸多菩薩、乾託訶提菩薩、常精進菩薩、與如是等大比薩及釋提桓因等…….

早課前，或許先吃一點東西比較好….

Bush's approval ratings are at an unsightly low. But to improve those ratings, you'd have to come up with a plan the Dubya, The Great Decider, could agree to. After much thought, I have wrestled out a plan for a Constitutional Amendment (can't have too many of those) that he can really whip the voters into a frenzy about.

My proposed Constitutional Amendment would make it illegal for two illegal immigrants of the same sex to get married if one or both were an abortionist, a stem cell researcher, or flag burner, or had been heard by phone tappers to be discussing any or all of the above mentioned items, especially if the Administration had been able to extract a confession through torture.

Whew! That'll have hordes of Bush supporters waddling their obese carcasses through the streets, waving their flags. Or maybe they'll just drive their SUVs and honk.

Boo!
A visitor on a banyan leaf.

You have to shout in order to be heard by someone who's hard of hearing. For people with normal hearing, speak in a normal voice.

An ad for New Zealand tourism shows a guy bungee-jumping off a bridge saying something like I'VE NEVER FELT SO ALIVE. On youtube.com I saw a clip about a surfer who says that only when he rides giant waves does he feel alive.

I can feel very much alive doing something as prosaic as hanging up the laundry to dry. Why do I need to scream and shout to make myself aware of my life?

The advantage of finding joy in everyday pleasures is precisely that: they are everyday, so I live every day, unlike people who have to launch themselves off bridges to feel alive. They walk dead for 364 days a year, and live only a few minutes.

Admire the weeds making their way through cracks in the pavement, or the gasoline rainbows in a puddle. Disadvantage: everyday pleasures can't be packaged, bar-coded, and sold. When I stop to watch a cloud pass over a building, nobody's making a penny off of it. Can't have that. There should be a law that you can't watch clouds without official an Cloud Watching hat, glasses, and adiabatic measuring devices; in other words, it should be illegal to watch clouds unless you have spent at least a week's pay on it. Then you can feel alive. Then and only then.

Come to think of it, I would even go so far as to say that the times I feel most alive are often when I am bored to the point of irritation, such as waiting for a tardy bus on a hot, muggy day. It may not be the most memorable experience, but then I am acutely aware of life, mortality, and body, as the sweat trickles down my back when I should be sitting inside an air-conditioned bus making progress towards my destination.

夏日無君子
聽過老人說，從前大家穿長袍，夏天熬人；等長者說，「夏日無君子」，大家可以脫外袍。

Much has been made of Reagan's tough stand on the Soviet Union. Less well known is Reagan's standing upon the faithful ally, the Republic of China, Taiwan.

When Reagan took office, in Taiwan very few boys smoked before their military service, to keep themselves healthy. Even fewer women of any ages smoked. Oddly enough, even among Taiwan's smokers, cancer rates were far below the worldwide average; if I remember correctly, they were the world's lowest. This is because tobacco and liquor were government monopolies. Tobacco was cured by traditional, time consuming methods that were lousy on economic efficiency, but it was a government monopoly, so who cares? That curing method greatly reduced the amount of nicotine.

People drank lots of liquor, but held it well: public drunkenness was almost unknown. There were no liquor stores. Liquor was sold along with other products, but there was no advertising. No advertising for either liquor or tobacco. Tobacco and liquor were controlled by government monopoly. Little was imported, and duties kept it out of most people's mouths.

Overall, the people were slim and tough. A slight bulge in the waistline was enough to earn the label 'fat.' The government successfully resisted incursions by McDonald's, preferring to protect the populace's health rather than profits. 7/11 tried to enter too, but the government protected mom & pop stores, which kept communities close.

That all changed with Reagan. He demanded that Taiwan import American cigarets and alcohol, or else he would use 301 to enact sanctions and reprisals to cripple the economy. The ROC had no choice but to buckle under this intense pressure. American tobacco and liquor roared into the market like barbarians sacking a library.

Where there had been no advertising, American advertising strategies filled the market. Not only advertising, but also promotions. For example, concerts were thrown, and free packs of cigarets were given to all as they entered, regardless of age or sex.

The problem was the beer drinkers preferred Taiwan Beer, which has always won high marks in international competitions. Nobody wanted Budweiser or the other American brands that were imported. Reagan got mad and demanded people buy American beer, but the consumers didn't want it. Finally, to move the stuff off the shelves and make the US happy, businessmen gave a can of American beer with every can of Taiwan beer. I remember a lot of beer drinkers tossing out the American cans unopened.

No such problem with tobacco. The Marlboro Man rode into Taiwan, bringing death and devastation with him, but hey those ads look great. Large numbers of young people started smoking.

Once the door had been wedged open, MacDonald's muscled its way in. Now there are fast food chains all over, and overall people have noticeably put on weight, although obesity is nowhere near the problem it is in the US. The Aborigines in Wulai are terrified that MacDonald's will open a branch here; we already have three 7/11s in a village of 2500 people (lots of sightseers), so why not MacDonald's? Presently, the nearest McD is a half hour drive away, so Tayal parents can keep their children away from that garbage except on special, controlled occasions at great intervals. But what if McD does decide to come? The Aborigines feel helpless against that sort of economic firepower, and say that "If MacDonald's comes to Wulai, it will destroy the health of our tribe." But think of the profits!

It all started with Reagan, and what particularly galls me about it is, tobacco and liquor! If he had insisted Taiwan buy more American cosmetics or electronic goods, okay. But tobacco and liquor!

I recall reading (the Atlantic Monthly, I think) that the negotiating room in the State Department in which the ROC representatives were forced to their knees was beautifully decorated. The wooden wall panels were adorned by hand-carved bunches of tobacco leaves. The decoration for that negotiating room alone cost US$1 million (at the time), but at no expense to the taxpayer: the entire fee was covered by tobacco companies. 羊毛出在羊身上.

Apparently Americans were wising up then and cutting down on their consumption of cigarets and drinks, so to keep profits up, Reagan used the might of the US to cram those down our throats. At least he didn't insist on Taiwan's importing guns. But what would Teddy Roosevelt have had to say about that? That's not what the big stick should be used for.

Friday I took the dogs to the stream to introduce Byajing to swimming. There was a group of high school girls there enjoying the stream, and they were all smoking. Such a scene would have been unthinkable before Reagan. Now it's common.

Every child born unhealthy because its parents succumbed to advertising and smoked American cigarets; every person who dies a miserable death from lung cancer caused by smoking imported cigarets; every heart destroyed by tobacco; each family ruined by alcoholism; each body ruined by American junk food. Each and every one has Reagan to thank. This is his legacy in Taiwan.

Little things
假如沒有芝麻，人生多麼無趣。

Now you know what Lassie's been up to all these years.

一個問題我想很久了，也該認真研究~~
我揣測，華語本是一種creole。Bickerton著Language and Human Behavior 說明，各種族群、語言雜處會形成pidgin共用簡語，而第二代孩子快速將pidgin綜合成新語言，是為creole。中國話具有creole的許多特徵。

石器時代，華夏各居溪豁，各豁自有文化類型；交通不便，必各自有語言，不得互通。商合諸侯伐夏，成湯興師帥諸侯，把鉞伐夏桀，令師作湯誓，曰，格汝眾庶，來，汝悉聽朕言。若諸侯聽湯言无重譯，必有共同語言。後踐天子位，平定四海，更加需要共通語言。

由于交通漸漸進步，商政遠達，各方相聚，必通其語言，生 creole焉，斯為中國話濫觴。吧。

On their deathbed, nobody says, "I wish I had spent more time in meetings at the office! I wish I had spent more time working overtime!”

Only the most emotionally deprived say, "I wish I had earned more money." But for them, life never had any meaning, anyway. Neither did money.

What regrets do you think you may have on your last breath? Work to put an end to those now.

Everything I ever needed to know, I learned in kindergarten

The teeter-totter technique for painting second floor eaves.

樂極生悲
As he was coming back inside, he spilled his bucket of paint all over the floor.
BUT! the good news (?) is that not ONE DROP was spilled outside...

從前到處看到四個大字：勿忘在莒。現在很少看到；也好，因為已經不合時宜。我建議，留下來的應該修改，以適時代，改為
已忘在莒。

In The Teeth of the Tiger, very poorly written by Tom Clancy, a character "wondered what they serve for lunch in hell.”
That's easy: McDonald's.

This photo was taken in Singapore in February of this year by Angela Thompson (who is not to be held answerable for any views expressed in this blog). It shows two parades of celebration, one of the Indian community, one of the Chinese. The Chinese are dancing a dragon. The Indian paraders have secured heavy strands of metal to themselves by means of sharp metal points digging into their flesh; then they pierced their cheeks with one needle and their tongue with another, and tied their hands behind their heads around a weighted pole. The two parades happened to pass through each other.

This photo is an excellent illustration of differences between Chinese and Indian culture. After the dragon has danced, you can be sure all the Chinese are going to eat a lot of good food and enjoy talking with friends and family. After the Indian parade is over, I have no idea what they will do. I wouldn't feel like eating after removing a needle from my tongue, but maybe that's just me.

If we use yoga and 太極拳\taichichuan to exemplify the two outlooks, Indian and Chinese, it is instructive to compare dedicated practitioners of each after a lifetime of practice.

Think a moment about a 70 year old yogi and a 70 year old taichi master. What kind of images do you conjure up? Even if they are stereotypes.

Speaking generally, probably the yogi is scrawny, tough as old shoe leather, bearded, and has hard, unrelenting eyes. He is perfectly at ease sitting next to, or even in, a blazing fire under a hot sun. He has mortified his flesh. The taichi man is probably roly-poly and loves to stuff his grandchildren with candy. If he is sitting anywhere near a hot fire on a hot day, he's cooking something to eat, and you're invited. Of course he could throw you across the room and bounce you off the wall as easily and lightly as a tennis ball, but eat, eat, the food is good, have something to eat!

India wants to leave the world behind. China wants to enjoy the world since we are here.

My mother once made an interesting comment. She was an art major, so they studied world art history. On Asia, first they did India and then China. She said moving from India to China was like moving from darkness into light.

As for me, I'm glad I chose China. Dance a dragon? Ok, should be fun, let's eat. Pierce my cheeks with long needles? No thank you, not today.

有人送我一包杭州龍井，好吧，勉為其難收下，打算用來續臺灣龍井。產量不大，名氣不盛，但向來臺北縣三峽的龍井實質勝杭州龍井。

為此也有些得意；古京縱負名，但實際上是臺灣好。讚!

試喝這包龍井，結果不是我預期的。喝了將近三十年的龍井，今年首一次杭州的把臺灣的比下去了。

心裡很複雜。

A wooden house needs periodic repainting. The painters began their work yesterday. They came early in the morning (8 is early in the morning for me) and worked all morning. I cooked them lunch; they assured me that my cooking is fine and that they ate their full. They worked all afternoon and left around 5, having done a good day's work.

Same this morning. At 11:40, while the rice was cooking and I was talking on the phone to Ling, they snuck out the back way and removed themselves to a restaurant for a long lunch. They did not return to the job until the danger of my cuisine was past.

Maybe they don't like bitter melon with mountain pepper?

Bush is so cute. From the news:
President Bush on Monday sharply condemned the disclosure of a program to secretly monitor the financial transactions of suspected terrorists. "The disclosure of this program is disgraceful," he said.
"For people to leak that program and for a newspaper to publish it does great harm to the United States of America," Bush said, jabbing his finger for emphasis. He said the disclosure of the program "makes it harder to win this war on terror."

See, it's ok for Rove to name CIA agents, that doesn't matter in the war on terror~~

Bush signs laws with one hand and contravenesthose very laws with the other, and has challenged more than 750 statutes passed by Congress, far more than any other president. The White House does not dispute that number. It's the War on Terror, see? That's why we absolutely have to drill for oil in the arctic, and if you don't agree, you must hate America and want the terrorists to win.

On another front, customs official found Our Hero Rush Limbaugh with a bunch of Viagra that was not in his name. Maybe it was for the White House? Also part of the War on Terror. But at least Limbaugh is not using Viagra in same sex marriages while he burns a flag, so he's an A-OK All American Patriot.

What? You think poor children should be educated properly? You must be trying to make it harder to win this war on terror. You think air quality is important? You must be trying to make it harder to win this war on terror. You think global warming is real? You must be trying to make it harder to win this war on terror. You THINK?? You must be trying to make it harder to win this war on terror.

What a wonderful catchall!

有沒有想過，如果陳水扁罷免的話，誰當總統？…恐怕是喜歡蹂躪弱勢團體的副總統呂大娘。

事情還是不要造次。

As part of my ongoing endeavor to raise all readers' hackles equally, regardless of age, blood type, tribal affiliation (Tayal excepted; you Circassians can go suck lemons*),income bracket, or color of cufflinks, today I will discuss same sex marriage. O how nice, I can hear outraged screams already, this is going to be a real popular piece.

What's the fuss? One third of Americans don't have health insurance and the White House is trying to pass a Constitutional amendment banning same sex marriage? Our bravest and best are getting killed in Iraq and Afghanistan, the administration is rotten with corruption, spies on Americans, and tortures prisoners, global warming may well doom the human race, the incarceration rate under Bush is higher than it was under Stalin, how important is same sex marriage? That, I believe is the point. There are so many problems Bush is working to create and maintain, he wants the public out of his hair. While he tramples on the Constitution, he points and says, “LOOK! There are two homosexuals trying to undermine the sacred institution of marriage! We must mobilize!” 障眼法.

That's almost as stupid as amending the Constitution to prohibit flag burning. I would never burn a flag contemptuously, but I also feel that there are a lot more pressing problems that should be dealt with first. Strengthen the country: why are so many Blacks and Latinos on a treadmill to jail? why are there so many homeless people? why are so many Americans obese? why is American education such a joke? why is there so much drug use and alcoholism in the US? why has American foreign policy almost never succeeded since the country was founded? why does America pollute so much? why doesn't tax reform benefit the majority? why don't Americans have secure retirement plans? The list goes on and on. Make the country strong from the inside, and nobody will want to burn the flag anyway. A Constitutional Amendment against flag burning makes as much sense as passing a law saying that heavy smokers are not to get cancer.

If the institution of marriage were in tune with the needs of society, it would not need protection.

In this day and age, even normal people can't hold a marriage together, why not give homosexuals a go at it?

Where did all these homosexuals come from, anyway? (Get ready to howl and punch your computer screen.) Of course a lot have been there all along, hidden back in the closet, but their numbers seem to have increased. I think it has to do with all the hormones they pump into meat animals to force them to grow quicker. Then the cow or chicken or whatever gets the ax before it works all those drugs out of its system and the hormone goes straight into your jolly consumer, where dog knows what it does to the consumer's physiology.

None of the vegetarians I know are homosexual. Rather, the people I know who are most vehemently or derisively opposed to vegetarianism are homosexuals.

So maybe it does have something to do with what you eat. But no matter what, I don't think a Constitutional amendment is going to do anybody any good. If anything, people will use civil onions or other means to engage in same sex marriage under a different name. I still think it's just Bush's ploy to distract people from his wrongdoings.

Let's be realistic, how much of a deterrent would a constitutional amendment be? It may even turn out to be an incentive, you know, the thrill of being defiant and perverse. They want to get married, let them get married. Let them have a go at it. See how they like it.

That may be the way: like Christians. If you don't want Christians in your country, the worst, absolutely the worst thing you can do is persecute them. They thrive on persecution, it makes them feel holy and righteous so they really dig in their heels. How many Western European countries persecute Christians? None. And how is Christianity faring in Western Europe? Moribund. Look at all the fanatic Christians Communist oppression fostered in Eastern Europe.

Maybe it's the same for homosexuals. Prohibit them from marrying and it's till death do us part. Legalize it, take all the fun out of it. Ok, you two are bound together in legal matrimony, you're STUCK ha ha ha! That might be the best way to break up homosexual couples, if that's what you're after.

However, some people might object on the grounds that matrimonial bonds are cruel and unusual punishment, and thereby should be forbidden by a closer reading of the Constitution.
_______________________
*written with full knowledge that the chances of a Circassian actually reading this are more remote than the outskirts of Mustang, Tibet, and if any do, well, of course ha ha ha we all know what a great sense of humor you guys have. Right? Right? Please put down that Kalashnikov.

an innocent question
The LA Times Book Review recommends The Black Book by Orhan Pamuk; translated from the Turkish by Maureen Freely.

Could we say that book is freely translated?

I have noticed that when I have spent several days at home without going on a road, the first car I encounter I can smell from about 20 paces away. Let me tell you, it's not a nice smell.

This brings to mind Lost in the Taiga, the story of a family of Old Believers who lived for decades hidden away in the remotest mountains of Siberia, where their children grew to adulthood without ever having seen outsiders. In her 40s, the daughter Agafia visited relatives in an inaccessible village deep in another pocket of the Siberian forest. She did not like the awful stench, and covered her nose with a handkerchief, complaining, "An automobile went through this morning – there is the smell of gasoline." One car for miles around, and she still couldn't stand the smell in the late afternoon.

What about city dwellers, who are surrounded by hundreds, even thousands, of cars all day long, day after day, year after year?久入鮑魚之肆，不聞其臭. But how good can that be for your health?

In the mountains, I frequently smell someone smoking long before I see him. Especially if you've got a heavy smoker, someone who's been smoking for years and his lungs are rotting in his chest, depending on the direction of the wind, sometimes I can smell someone like that from fifty paces away and more. It's an indescribably filthy smell.

I love these people who drive up to the mountains for a breath of fresh air and light up a cigaret.

A ruckus downstairs broke the quiet of a drowsy Sunday afternoon. Judging from his barking, Yumin had spotted a snake. I went down to investigate. Next to the front door, the dogs were in attack mode. Little Byajing was safe in the rear, Tlahuy guarded her, ready to pounce into action the moment Yumin needed support, and Yumin was on point, barking furiously was fearlessly keeping at bay… a turtle.

A turtle had crawled up almost to my front door. I put it in the water of the stone trough, and asked it to wait a minute while I rushed inside for my camera. After a few portraits, it lumbered off into the bushes, continuing its errand.

Nothing out of the ordinary, there are plenty of turtles around. What I find amusing about this is, how fast does a turtle go? It had crossed all the way across the tile porch before my alert guardians noticed it and sounded the alarm.

賓至如龜
mmm, nice and cool. burble burble.

Yumin makes sure the turtle doesn't try any funny stuff.

Byajing takes a peek.
See her reflection in the lower left hand corner?

Ok, 881, I'll be seeing you.

Recently I have found a great site, www.overheardinnewyork.com
I have my own Overheard, but it is way too late. I visited New York for the first time in years last December, just in time for the subway strike. Passing a group of striking subway workers clustered around a subway entrance in Flushing, I actually heard one of them say, in reference to management,"Those dirty rats!" That is a direct quote, unaltered, authentic, I did not make it up, he actually said that.

Maybe it's part of joining a union, they teach you how to say this properly, and then you are required to say it during strikes. I was pretty impressed. It made the whole visit to New York seem more authentic.

前不久提到，我認為儒者的「節」優于佛家的「戒」，因為節制合人性的需要，尤其以在家修行論。
不過話又說回來，節也罷、戒也罷，總比耶和華的「誡」commandment好。Commandment是命令；不用去思攷，只要盲目服從命令，聽話就是耶和華的乖寶寶。
節，需要用心反省、累積經驗、挐捏分寸，才知道如何節。必須主動思索、履行乃成。

No better way to wait out a thundershower than curled up with someone you love and trust.

...even if it does get boring.

Rain, rain, go away...

不要以為我在山上閒著閒著沒事作。其實，我在思攷一些很深的問題。例如，一人剃度，七代祖先升天；佛制，男眾可以出家七次。好了，假如佛子五代前祖父作人不好，殺盜妄淫酒通通來，本在地獄中消業障，法師剃刀一刮，乖嗣圓頂了，五代祖飛上天了；過一回，孫師經不起出家生活還俗，五代祖是不是要回地獄？又過一段時間，孫覺得有進步，又出家，五代祖又上天了，在天上正要飲甘露，孽孫的因緣不足又還俗，甘露還沒喝完又掉下來了；作孫的出家心是有，但忐忑寡斷，五代祖爺咻~~咻~~好像在玩高空彈跳。會不會這樣？這是一個很深的問題，我一直在思攷。不是閒著沒事作。

I wrote this in the summer of 1982. This is non-fiction. I didn't make any of this up.

A new restaurant has opened in back of the Lai Lai Sheraton – Mama Roma Italiano Ristoranto Kosher Food.

The bosses are foreigners. I imagine their names to be Moses Vinorelli and Giuseppe Rosenstein. I really wonder how kosher their meat is. Who knows the rituals in Taiwan? They probably just put a yarmulke on each beast before they slaughter it. Or after.

Actually, there is a scattering of Jews in Taiwan. Hsiao Hui has a classmate named 王來貝嘉 Wang Lai-bei-jia, Chinese for Rebecca Wang. She's a Mongolian Jew. ("Funny, you don't look Jewish.") There is a selection of European Jews living in Shipai, near the old GI settlement. They are tended by a robust Dutch lady, Kitty Katts, who beat a drum and tugged a trombone for twelve years in Singapore for the Salvation Army. She's ready to preach at the drop of a hat – Jewish, Catholic, Protestant of all denominations, just aim her at the congregation and let her rip.

I met her at the Language Center (語言訓練測驗中心的前名), where she was vigorously teaching Inglitch Krammar in her indomitable Dutch aaksent, jah. She was a terror in the Teachers' Room. If anybody was smoking, and someone always was, she would demand in loud, clear, staccato jabs that 'dish! ish der air! for! effrybotty!' – nobody ever stopped smoking for her, and she would carry on for the time it would take to smoke a cigar.

One time Richard brought the paper into my office to read in the more comfortable chair. We heard the main door swoosh open, Kitty march into the main room, stomp several laps around the desks, plant her feet firmly, and announce:
KHOO hass der noosepaper! I vant to read der noosepaper, aand I do NOT KNOW vie ANYBOTTY took der noosepaper!
aand she stamp out der door.

That was nothing compared to the time somebody told her the wrong time to report to a briefing. Mixups like that happen all the time. When she realized she was an hour early, she marched down to the Director's Office. He had heard her coming, and barred the door to his Inner Sanctum. She steamed back up to the Teachers' Room. The secretaries could not explain why she had been told the wrong time, so she went howling up to the 4th floor cafeteria to find some responsible person. She yanked the hamburger out of mouth of the Training Section chief, but the briefing wasn't under his jurisdiction, so she hauled back down to the first floor to find the Testing Section who, forewarned by the uproar, had lit out the back door to find refuge on the other side of campus. When I got off work, the briefing was long past, but she was still making a ruckus in the tape lab. Eyewitnesses all swear that she grabbed the Training Section chief's wrist and pulled the hamburger away from his mouth so he could give her a clear explanation. That sure wasn't part of his job description! For months afterwards, he carried lunch from home and ate hunched over his lunchbox in his office, with the door shut.

Now that I think of it, her name was Kitty Kratz.

Be sure to watch this, if you haven't seen it yet.
This was a live interview broadcast on BBC on May 8, 2006.
BBC wanted to interview an authority on patent law concerning downloading from the Internet, Apple vs Apple. The person who appeared on the set had gone to the studio to apply for a job, and through some mixup, he suddenly found himself on camera, live.
Watch his expression when he realizes what is going on. Priceless!
He caught on a lot quicker than the interviewer did, and pulled through magnificently. He has become something of a folk hero, and now there's a website for him: www.guygoma.com

"Berlin is one of the few places I know where ideas can make a concrete difference in daily life," says philosopher Susan Neiman, head of a think tank, the Einstein Forum. (Smithsonian, 0606p99)

This wins my nomination for one of the most asinine remarks of the decade. Everything we do is the result of an idea; turn left at the next intersection, apply for a loan, have another cup of coffee, take the dog out for a walk, build a spaceship, carve a statue, step on a cockroach, pick up a bite to eat, design new software, take out the garbage, compose music, turn off that desk lamp, blow up a bridge, sharpen a pencil, which one is not begotten by an idea?

Or maybe the exalted Head of the Think Tank supposes that if it hasn't been presented at a symposium by someone with an advanced academic degree it does not merit the title idea?

I just hope the remark was taken out of context. One Richard Rorty is more than enough for this world.

(note: RR is an academic in Virginia or somewhere who delights in fatuous pronouncements such as 'The brain is the most relevant organ we have.')

The other day I was in the city for class. The place I ate dinner had the tv on to the World Cup, with thousands of people getting hysterical about the game. The game, it's just a game, for Pete's sake!

I've never been one to get excited (or for that matter even care much) about watching other people play games. For some reason, as I was eating dinner and glancing at the screen from time to time, I kept flashing on a night long ago in Dalat, in the central highlands of Viet Nam during the war. I don't know why, but nights in the tropics seem darker:: pitch black:: there was a light drizzle, I was groping my way along the street to my friend's place where I was staying, when I met an ARVN patrol heading out into the pitch black night. I was in the town, they were heading out of town. They had ponchos on, and water dripped down their faces. They held their fingers on their triggers, ready to fight, if only they could see the enemy. They were walking forward steadily, without emotion, into the night, and I was thinking, jeeezus, that's dangerous! They simply had no way of knowing if they would survive the next thirty seconds.

I don't want to get on my high horse or anything, and it's fine to enjoy watching trained athletes perform, but shouldn't there be some sort of sense of proportion? It's just a game.

杜正勝很可惜。二十年前，他是一位了不起的學者。他自己讀歷史，難道不怕嗎？應該可以很清楚地看出，他將在歷史上留名的，絕不是他學術上的貢獻，而是民國末年當了官沖昏了頭的諂諛無品小丑、把地圖轉九十度的讒臣，遺笑萬年。

讀歷史:每一個朝代接近尾聲，一些小人物自我膨脹，爭權奪利，不為老百姓作長遠的計畫，不知自身之快要滅的，沾沾自喜，以為呼風喚雨，其實，只是洩氣的聲音。在上無能，親戚猖獗，群臣佞媚，務奪眼前利，不思百代福。

是不是現今中華民國政府的寫照？說要立新國創新制嘛，我一點也看不出那種氣息。

希望是我太悲觀。希望臺灣還有福報未盡。

不忘初衷，難。真可惜。

出家應隨眾，因為出家了生死是天下第一難事。掏深心，浚習氣，持戒循律，一則必依群體共修方成；一則調心，有突破入新境，心域未穩，狂偏慢妄易生，于是必遵常例行事，蹈習規，不變其作息，以穩其心。一是隨眾，照規矩，身安道隆。行者火候不足，離群索居，獨居茅棚，易狂妄自大、目中无人。

若持戒為修行基礎，則規律起居為持戒奠基。

on foreign adventure
On June 7, Reverend Theodore Parker of the 28th Congregational Society of Boston, said this in a sermon.
"I maintain that aggressive war is a sin; that it is a national infidelity, a denial of Christianity and of God… treason against the people, against mankind, against God, is a great sin, not lightly to be spoken of. The political authors of the war… are either utterly incapable of a statesman's work, or else guilty of that sin.”

June 7, 1846, that was, concerning the invasion of Mexico, but please someone read this to Our Exalted President Bush.

'女婿不教,阿扁之錯'
這句非常高明；不是我們有任何問題，是他們趙家本來就是作姦犯科的貨，可惜進了陳家門來不及感化，舊技重犯，哎呀真糟糕他們趙家的人! 不是我們有任何問題，沒關係，手隨便一招就可以招徠新女婿。

"遭到媒體爆料接受藥廠招待，何弘能則頻頻喊冤。”
藥廠招待醫生，眾所周知，是例行公事，還有人否認嗎？開玩笑，醫生給你開甲廠的藥而不開乙廠的，是如何取捨？請參Carl Elliott著The Drug Pushers ,刊載于The Atlantic Monthly 2006年四月號。www.theatlantic.com

Americans say prolly or probly for probably. Have you ever wondered where the missing syllables go?

We've got them. In Taiwan, probably is pronounced probabably. By mysterious means involving quantum physics and worm holes, the syllables Americans drop transport to Taiwan.

That's why Taiwan exports so many socks. You know all those socks that disappear in the washing machine and you could never figure out where they got off to? They reappear in Taiwan, where they are sorted, bundled, and sold back to the US.

That's why those socks you bought the other day look familiar. They are the ones you lost last winter, and they have come back to you via the wondrous workings of the universe. You probabably didn't know that.

He said there's a ship that's wanting hands
and on her you quickly sign
O her mate is a bastard, her boson's worse,
and she will suit you fine.
- Paddy West

"It was Hozin. In those days a lot of young Tayal were getting jobs on fishing boats and going to sea. Hozin said, "Let's go to sea,' so I went. You know Tayal just don't use our heads sometimes. I should have known better. When I was little my mother would take me on the bus back to galang na, mita yutas ru yagi, and I would throw up all the way across the mountains. I should have known better, but Hozin called, and sometimes we Tayal just don't use our heads.

"I went to sea on a little fishing boat, I was at sea for three years, and I was seasick for three years. I should have known better than to listen to Hozin. Everything I ate came right back up. At first the rest of the crew thought I was faking, but after three years I was still throwing up, and they finally believed me. I was young and strong in those days and I worked hard, so the captain would not let me go because I did the work of 4 men. I worked hard and ate a lot and every time I ate I meal I would rush to the stern and throw everything up.”

"You could have saved some energy by just tossing your meals from the bowls into the ocean.”

"Balay! The only time I was not seasick was when I was working so I worked hard. We had some older seamen on board, from the Puyuma tribe. I felt sorry for them so I did their work, because it kept me from feeling seasick anyway.

"I didn't even get trained before I went to sea, so I may be the only aborigine seaman with an appendix. When you signed up, they gave you two month's training before you went to sea, and the first thing they did was take out your appendix.

"But Hozin said, 'Let's go to sea,' so I got on the bus with him and we went to Kaohsiung. I was 18. When we signed up, they said, 'There is a berth on a ship sailing tomorrow,' so I went. That's why I still have my appendix. But I didn't have any training, I learned on the job. Before the ship sailed I phoned home but my Ma was out, so I left word with Qalux to tell her, Ma I have gone to sea, I will be home in three years. Then we sailed.

"I started vomiting before we left the harbor and kept vomiting until we returned home three years later. We had some old Puyuma seamen on board, one of them looked sickly, another was short and skinny but very strong. One night when we went to bed, the strong one was still washing. He took a long shower that night. As I fell asleep, I wondered why he was taking such a long shower. When he finished, he went to his bunk and fell asleep and never woke up. He died in his sleep. Nobody expected that. He was strong and healthy, and he didn't say he felt bad. He acted normal the night before. I think he must have felt something, which is why he took such a long shower. That was his last chance to wash his body.

"Well, he was dead and we were far at sea, so the captain put his body in the freezer with the catch. But every time they opened the freezer to freeze the catch, there was this body in there, so the sailors complained, and finally the captain sailed for Singapore. In Singapore they took him out of the freezer and notified his family. His family flew to Singapore. They cremated him and took his ashes home to Taitung.

"I almost died at sea, and not just from vomiting. One time we caught a shark, it was a great white shark, it was on the deck and thrashing. I was too close to it and it gashed me with a tooth, see? I still have the scar. It hurt! I lost a bowful of blood. Somebody rushed up with a knife, a long curved butcher knife, and severed its spine. But with a great white shark, you can't hack with the knife because the skin is too thick, you have to slice, and they sliced five or six times before they severed its spine.

"I came back to Taiwan when I was 21 because I had to serve in the army. After I got discharged, my captain came to Wulai to sign me up again because I worked so hard, but I said, No, I was seasick for three years, that's enough. I got a job driving a truck instead. I get carsick, but not when I'm driving. So I never went to sea again.”

七情六慾是人性；若無七情六慾，意識無以成。依演化而論，七情六慾耗精力、體力、營養而成，倘無益則不為焉。

七情六慾，自然也；對抗不如面對，對立不如疏導。因此認為，儒者謂「節」，勝佛子之「戒」。

鯀治水無狀而殛于羽之野，阻之塞之，以至于無功。大禹治水，順之導之，天下始免于害。

On Yahoo, I saw a headline,
5 reasons you should care about the NBA finals
Yeah, good point, maybe you can list five reasons I should care, but I am sure that with a little thought, I could list hundreds or thousands of reasons I need not care. Big deal, watching millionaires sweat. I would rather watch my dogs scuffle.

The World Cup: who cares? It's just a bunch of guys kicking a ball around, which is fun, but hardly something to get all worked up about. I have a life.