I disdain profanity because it is so boring and unimaginative. A good sharp tongue can be much more vituperative than the foulest mouth. Thus Attorney General Edward Bates (under Lincoln) in 1863 wrote:
"When the public cauldron is heated into violent ebullition, it is sure to throw up from the bottom of society some of its dirtiest dregs, which, but for the heat and agitation, would have lain embedded in congenial filth in the lowest stratum of society.”
Not an obscenity to be seen, but infinitely more scathing than reciting the worn out words concerning excretion and fornication.
The problem is that to write like that, or read it, you have to think, something people today are singularly averse to.
Monday, September 18, 2006
How I helped my father quit smoking
My father was a man of simple pleasures. He'd come home from work, get a can of beer from the fridge, spread out the newspaper on the kitchen table, and Pete Talovich was as good as in heaven.
That was his total alcoholic intake. I can't vouch for when he was young and rowdy, but I never saw my father drunk, not even close to it. We had problems enough without.
No television in our home. We didn't want it, we didn't have time for it. After dinner Dad might go tinker on the car, work out some chess problems, trim the lawn, exchange putrid puns with me, or else get out a good book, sit in his chair, and spend the evening in deepest Africa or the torrid deserts of Australia where the temperature was so high the lead dropped out of the explorers' pencils. For Father's Day you didn't want to get Dad a tie, not if there was a new Alan Moorehead book out.
If Mr Moorehead had not produced any new works, you could get Dad pipe tobacco so he could huff and puff as Ur was unearthed. From time to time he would solemnly tell me, Tobacco is bad for you. We would gather his pipes and troop out to the garage. I held the pipes as Dad got out the anvil and the ball peen hammer, and one by one, reduced the pipes to powder. Very happily, Dad would stow the anvil and the hammer, and arise, a free man again.
Thereafter hippopotamus would capsize brave explorers' fragile boats with no pipe smoke in the air. For a month or two. Then Dad would come home with his hand in his suit pocket, and you knew what was up. "Look at this new pipe they've come up with, isn't this a beauty? They say it draws much better than the old models, so I thought I would take it for a spin.”
Not always pipes. Sometimes he would come home with a fistful of cigars; he was of a generation that considered cigarettes effeminate.
One evening, during a protracted cigar phase, Dad looked at his cigar, looked at me, and said, "I should quit smoking cigars. Tobacco is bad for you. But it's hard to quit.”
The fatal words had been spoken. It doesn't make sense to smash cigars on an anvil. I put my little mind to work, seeking a way to help Dad quit smoking cigars.
As it happened, it was at the end of the school year that he said those words to me. Soon the Glorious Fourth approached, with firework stands selling sky rockets and magic snakes and sparklers. And sparklers. Sparklers. A plan evolved.
I bought sparklers, as did every other kid in the nation. But I had something different in mind. Very carefully, when nobody was about, I approached the drawer in which Dad kept his cigars, each in its own cellophane wrapper. Stealthily, I silently opened the drawer and withdrew a cigar. I compared its length and girth to a sparkler. It looked like a fit. I surreptitiously closed the drawer again, and waited a few days until it happened that I was the only one home.
Again, I tiptoed to the cigar drawer and withdrew a cigar. With infinite patience, I meticulously opened one end of the cellophane wrapper and withdrew the cigar. I clipped the sparkler down so it was only about two thirds the length of the cigar. If I had taken such care in Shop, I'd have been a master craftsman long since. With great care, I slowly worked the sparkler into the cigar, taking pains that it went in straight and did not cause any telltale bulges. With a toothpick I pushed it in as far as I could and then arranged the tobacco leaf so that you could not see the sanctity of the cigar had been violated. I placed it back into its cellophane wrapper and managed to paste the cellophane so you could not tell the wrapper had been opened. Then I placed the loaded cigar back into the drawer, and stirred the cigars about, so even I did not know which cigar had the sparkler in it.
I found out about a week later.
As usual, Dad came home from work, in the late long afternoon of a hot summer day. Nothing could be better than a can of beer, a cigar, and the newspaper.
With a slight smile on his face, he gripped his beer in his right hand and the cigar in his left, puffing pensively as he read the news. He took a good puff and returned his left hand to the edge of the table. As he exhaled, suddenly the cigar lit up in a blaze of glory. Dad looked at the cigar in astonishment, bellowed like a wounded bull, and leaped backwards off his stool with grace and spring that would credit an exceptionally agile ballerina. His beer fell across the newspaper, unheeded. With eyes as wide open as his eyelids would permit, Dad stared at the cigar for a moment open-mouthed. Then he rushed over and extinguished it in the sink.
He was still staring at the cigar with an open mouth when he turned around and saw me standing there. I suddenly realized it was not a good time to be standing there. Realization dawned on his face: he had a culprit. I decided it might be a good time to go down to the corner drugstore and see if there were any new comic books. I started edging for the door.
Still holding the sodden cigar at arm's length, Dad said, "Stop right there, young man." Dad was so shocked he forgot to be angry.
"Oh, hi, Dad, I was just heading down to the drugstore.”
"Did you have anything to do with this?" He waved the cigar at me.
George Washington and the cherry tree came to mind. "Well, come on, Dad, you told me you wanted to quit smoking.”
"You did this – what did you do? You did this to make me quit smoking?”
"You said so yourself, you said tobacco is bad for you and you wanted to quit smoking cigars, so I wanted to help you quit.”
"This is dangerous! What if I had been driving?”
"You never smoke when you drive." By this time the rest of the family had gathered to see what Dad had bellowed about, and Dad sputtered out that he had been sitting there peacefully smoking his cigar when all of a sudden it – he got the idea. "What did you do, put a sparkler in here?”
"That's right. I thought it would give you a surprise so you'd quit smoking.”
"How many more of my cigars have you booby-trapped?”
"Dad, I can't tell you that." There was only the one, but I sure wasn't going to let him know.
Very cautiously, very reluctantly, Dad pulled out the drawer and emptied the remaining cigars into the trash. "You know, I had been wondering why for the last week or so you kept standing there watching me read the newspaper with this big expectant look on your face.”
My father was a man of simple pleasures. He'd come home from work, get a can of beer from the fridge, spread out the newspaper on the kitchen table, and Pete Talovich was as good as in heaven.
That was his total alcoholic intake. I can't vouch for when he was young and rowdy, but I never saw my father drunk, not even close to it. We had problems enough without.
No television in our home. We didn't want it, we didn't have time for it. After dinner Dad might go tinker on the car, work out some chess problems, trim the lawn, exchange putrid puns with me, or else get out a good book, sit in his chair, and spend the evening in deepest Africa or the torrid deserts of Australia where the temperature was so high the lead dropped out of the explorers' pencils. For Father's Day you didn't want to get Dad a tie, not if there was a new Alan Moorehead book out.
If Mr Moorehead had not produced any new works, you could get Dad pipe tobacco so he could huff and puff as Ur was unearthed. From time to time he would solemnly tell me, Tobacco is bad for you. We would gather his pipes and troop out to the garage. I held the pipes as Dad got out the anvil and the ball peen hammer, and one by one, reduced the pipes to powder. Very happily, Dad would stow the anvil and the hammer, and arise, a free man again.
Thereafter hippopotamus would capsize brave explorers' fragile boats with no pipe smoke in the air. For a month or two. Then Dad would come home with his hand in his suit pocket, and you knew what was up. "Look at this new pipe they've come up with, isn't this a beauty? They say it draws much better than the old models, so I thought I would take it for a spin.”
Not always pipes. Sometimes he would come home with a fistful of cigars; he was of a generation that considered cigarettes effeminate.
One evening, during a protracted cigar phase, Dad looked at his cigar, looked at me, and said, "I should quit smoking cigars. Tobacco is bad for you. But it's hard to quit.”
The fatal words had been spoken. It doesn't make sense to smash cigars on an anvil. I put my little mind to work, seeking a way to help Dad quit smoking cigars.
As it happened, it was at the end of the school year that he said those words to me. Soon the Glorious Fourth approached, with firework stands selling sky rockets and magic snakes and sparklers. And sparklers. Sparklers. A plan evolved.
I bought sparklers, as did every other kid in the nation. But I had something different in mind. Very carefully, when nobody was about, I approached the drawer in which Dad kept his cigars, each in its own cellophane wrapper. Stealthily, I silently opened the drawer and withdrew a cigar. I compared its length and girth to a sparkler. It looked like a fit. I surreptitiously closed the drawer again, and waited a few days until it happened that I was the only one home.
Again, I tiptoed to the cigar drawer and withdrew a cigar. With infinite patience, I meticulously opened one end of the cellophane wrapper and withdrew the cigar. I clipped the sparkler down so it was only about two thirds the length of the cigar. If I had taken such care in Shop, I'd have been a master craftsman long since. With great care, I slowly worked the sparkler into the cigar, taking pains that it went in straight and did not cause any telltale bulges. With a toothpick I pushed it in as far as I could and then arranged the tobacco leaf so that you could not see the sanctity of the cigar had been violated. I placed it back into its cellophane wrapper and managed to paste the cellophane so you could not tell the wrapper had been opened. Then I placed the loaded cigar back into the drawer, and stirred the cigars about, so even I did not know which cigar had the sparkler in it.
I found out about a week later.
As usual, Dad came home from work, in the late long afternoon of a hot summer day. Nothing could be better than a can of beer, a cigar, and the newspaper.
With a slight smile on his face, he gripped his beer in his right hand and the cigar in his left, puffing pensively as he read the news. He took a good puff and returned his left hand to the edge of the table. As he exhaled, suddenly the cigar lit up in a blaze of glory. Dad looked at the cigar in astonishment, bellowed like a wounded bull, and leaped backwards off his stool with grace and spring that would credit an exceptionally agile ballerina. His beer fell across the newspaper, unheeded. With eyes as wide open as his eyelids would permit, Dad stared at the cigar for a moment open-mouthed. Then he rushed over and extinguished it in the sink.
He was still staring at the cigar with an open mouth when he turned around and saw me standing there. I suddenly realized it was not a good time to be standing there. Realization dawned on his face: he had a culprit. I decided it might be a good time to go down to the corner drugstore and see if there were any new comic books. I started edging for the door.
Still holding the sodden cigar at arm's length, Dad said, "Stop right there, young man." Dad was so shocked he forgot to be angry.
"Oh, hi, Dad, I was just heading down to the drugstore.”
"Did you have anything to do with this?" He waved the cigar at me.
George Washington and the cherry tree came to mind. "Well, come on, Dad, you told me you wanted to quit smoking.”
"You did this – what did you do? You did this to make me quit smoking?”
"You said so yourself, you said tobacco is bad for you and you wanted to quit smoking cigars, so I wanted to help you quit.”
"This is dangerous! What if I had been driving?”
"You never smoke when you drive." By this time the rest of the family had gathered to see what Dad had bellowed about, and Dad sputtered out that he had been sitting there peacefully smoking his cigar when all of a sudden it – he got the idea. "What did you do, put a sparkler in here?”
"That's right. I thought it would give you a surprise so you'd quit smoking.”
"How many more of my cigars have you booby-trapped?”
"Dad, I can't tell you that." There was only the one, but I sure wasn't going to let him know.
Very cautiously, very reluctantly, Dad pulled out the drawer and emptied the remaining cigars into the trash. "You know, I had been wondering why for the last week or so you kept standing there watching me read the newspaper with this big expectant look on your face.”
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Six years ago, the KMT vote split between two candidates, throwing the election to the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) candidate, Chen Shui-bian, who took about 40% of the vote.Two years ago, the day before the presidential election there was a ridiculous "assassination attempt," in which the "assassin" supposedly fired from straight in front of President Bean; the bullet crossed his belly horizontally from right to left, hit the knee of Vice President Lu, who was standing on his left and is shorter than he is, and then bounced into Bean's coat pocket. The deed was pinned on a man who committed suicide, with the authorities claiming that he left a note admitting his guilt. His family and friends protested, saying the suspect was morose about mounting debts; the authorities demanded the family apologize for contradicting them, and there the case stands. Bean won the election by 28,000 votes, taking about 40% of the total, and there have been plenty of questions about that election. Soldiers strongly support the KMT, so the day of the election, they were confined to base, and not permitted to vote. That sort of thing.
I don't think Bean has ever won an election by a majority. It's hard to say what he has done in six years in office, but apparently he has been busy, because he has confirmed allegations that he took money out of the public coffer, claiming it was for 'secret diplomacy.' So secret that you can't find any trace of diplomacy. For this and various and other sundry scandals, the former Chairman of the DPP, Shih Mingte, has called for Bean to resign. The public has responded enthusiastically.
Hundreds of thousands of people have thronged to the President's Office, wearing red, as a sign that Bean should resign. All last week, everywhere you went in Taipei, you saw people wearing red, going to the rally in groups of two or three, in the subway, on buses. For the most part, these are the office workers, civil servants, white collar workers, blue collar workers, but all in all, the middle class.
On Friday evening there was a huge march calling for Bean to resign, and for an end to corruption. From miles away, people finished dinner, rummaged through their closets to find red shirts, and went to the rally with friends, family, or people from work. The subways, buses, and streets were full of these people. A lot of Aborigines from Wulai went. Something that interested me was that a lot of Tayal teenagers went, especially boys. These are kids who usually have nothing more on their minds than flying squirrels, basketball, girls, and cars, but without anybody planning, one by one, they got on the bus or rode their motorcycles to the city to march in the rally. As far as I could see, each made a decision personally and, with no fanfare, went down to the city and joined the march. I asked some of them why they went to the march, because I have never seen them show the slightest interest in politics. "The DPP treats Aborigines like dirt." "Chen Shuibian is bad to Aborigines."
On Saturday there was a much smaller rally to support Bean, wearing Green. They brought in only a small fraction of the number of people wearing red, and most of the DPP bigwigs made excuses and stayed away. To repeat, all last week, everywhere you went you saw people wearing red. Yesterday, I passed right by the Support rally, and saw almost no Supporters. I saw an old man clutching green flags, trying to figure out how to find his way through Taipei Main Station. Near Merica, there was a group of thugs throwing trash and spitting betel juice all over the sidewalk, holding green flags. Other than that, I didn't see anybody from that rally. Apparently, the Green rally followed the usual formula for DPP rallies: bus in a bunch of old folks from the countryside, give them hats, tee shirts, box lunches, flags, and a stipend. A lot of thugs join the Rent-a-Crowd.
A reporter for a local television station was interviewing people in the Support rally. Soon Bean supporters jumped on the tv truck and shouted down the reporter. They started beating him with fists, feet, and flags printed with the rally's theme, Love & Hope. The police rescued the reporter, who was hospitalized by his injuries. Love, Hope, and Freedom of Speech and Press, DPP style.
What I think has escaped these Bean Supporters is that they have doomed the DPP, and weakened Taiwan considerably. Now, any vote for the DPP means you approve of corruption, ineptitude, and inaction. Not very promising.
我聽秘密外交這個藉口很生氣，原因有兩個。
第一，我在民國六十年來臺灣時，很多人勸我不要來，因為中共揚言血洗臺灣，隨時要攻擊 (注：我是從越南戰區來臺灣的，而大家勸我留在越南比來臺灣安全)；我來不到一個月，日本斷交、中華民國退出聯合國，中共外交功勢洶湧，全世界看準自由中國臺灣命在旦夕，要被外交孤立，以致迅速滅亡。讓全世界的外交學者驚訝不已的是，臺灣的外交部居然能夠從夾縫出奇制勝：個國紛紛與中共建交的同時，與自由中國建立辦事處、文化交流處、貿易處；各種怪「處」問世，臺灣屹立不搖，中共束手無策。石油危機差點顛覆了歐美許多強國政府，中華民國反而蠻輕鬆地過關，在四面楚歌的垓心還能創出臺灣奇蹟；區區的臺灣在地圖上幾乎找不到，結果成為全球第十三大貿易國。
以前我們看到的臺灣外交是這樣扭轉乾坤、反敗為勝；現在呢？不是瓜就是貝：只有在瓜地馬拉、貝利斯這種地方才能發展。
好，假設你真的把錢拿去花在秘密外交上，那麼請問，外交上的成績在哪？在帛琉的沙灘上嗎？帛琉在哪裡？
第二，Bean向來給我的印象是，自視過高、自認不凡，好像他認為他可以唬住天下所有人。說子彈能轉彎，掉進口袋裡，哈利路雅，我相信！我相信！說女婿不聽話，壞了家規，我相信！說月球上有兔子搗長生不死之藥我也相信！說錢花在秘密外交上…把我當笨蛋嗎？
美國諺語說的好: You can fool all of the people some of the time, and you can fool some of the people all of the time, but you can't fool all of the people all of the time.
第一，我在民國六十年來臺灣時，很多人勸我不要來，因為中共揚言血洗臺灣，隨時要攻擊 (注：我是從越南戰區來臺灣的，而大家勸我留在越南比來臺灣安全)；我來不到一個月，日本斷交、中華民國退出聯合國，中共外交功勢洶湧，全世界看準自由中國臺灣命在旦夕，要被外交孤立，以致迅速滅亡。讓全世界的外交學者驚訝不已的是，臺灣的外交部居然能夠從夾縫出奇制勝：個國紛紛與中共建交的同時，與自由中國建立辦事處、文化交流處、貿易處；各種怪「處」問世，臺灣屹立不搖，中共束手無策。石油危機差點顛覆了歐美許多強國政府，中華民國反而蠻輕鬆地過關，在四面楚歌的垓心還能創出臺灣奇蹟；區區的臺灣在地圖上幾乎找不到，結果成為全球第十三大貿易國。
以前我們看到的臺灣外交是這樣扭轉乾坤、反敗為勝；現在呢？不是瓜就是貝：只有在瓜地馬拉、貝利斯這種地方才能發展。
好，假設你真的把錢拿去花在秘密外交上，那麼請問，外交上的成績在哪？在帛琉的沙灘上嗎？帛琉在哪裡？
第二，Bean向來給我的印象是，自視過高、自認不凡，好像他認為他可以唬住天下所有人。說子彈能轉彎，掉進口袋裡，哈利路雅，我相信！我相信！說女婿不聽話，壞了家規，我相信！說月球上有兔子搗長生不死之藥我也相信！說錢花在秘密外交上…把我當笨蛋嗎？
美國諺語說的好: You can fool all of the people some of the time, and you can fool some of the people all of the time, but you can't fool all of the people all of the time.
Saturday, September 16, 2006
Something just occurred to me: Taipei doesn't smell the same as it did in the early 70s.
In those days, most of 敦化北路 north of the railroad tracks (現在的市民大道) was rice fields. The city was not built up beyond the fourth floor. There were many wooden houses, not many cars, open ditches by the roads, lots of people who still cooked with charcoal, more weeds, and far less cement and asphalt.
The city had an organic smell. It didn't smell as moldy as 汐止, but you could smell the damp. That smell has long since disappeared.
In those days, most of 敦化北路 north of the railroad tracks (現在的市民大道) was rice fields. The city was not built up beyond the fourth floor. There were many wooden houses, not many cars, open ditches by the roads, lots of people who still cooked with charcoal, more weeds, and far less cement and asphalt.
The city had an organic smell. It didn't smell as moldy as 汐止, but you could smell the damp. That smell has long since disappeared.
Friday, September 15, 2006
真有默契。
我跟張到邱老闆的店，可是邱老闆外出，只有老闆娘林小姐在。我第一次見到她。
聊一聊，她問我，你是外國人嗎？
張說：他不是。
我說：我是山地人。
林：真的嗎？
張：沒錯，他是我們烏來的山地人。
林：我不相信。
張：妳沒看過烏來的泰雅族很多這種長相嗎？
林：我不相信。
我：Balay balay bi, talah nonux qloyus nguhuw na Tayal knan.
林：那你身分證拿出來給我看。
張：他沒帶。
林：你看，明明是唬人的。
我：沒有哇，真的啦，我們山地人的證件都是木頭的，所以不好帶。
張：對呀，原住民的身分證都是刻在木頭上的。這是他們的傳統。
我：可是問題是，這樣很重，所以不好帶。所以，除非有事，不然通常不會帶在身上。
張：他們的身分證都刻的很漂亮，所以不用的時候，掛在牆上作裝飾。
我：是啊，去年Keqing的房子失火，結果全家的身分證都燒毀了。
張：沒有，他兒子帶身分證去游泳，當木筏坐在上面，所以回家的時候濕透了，所以沒燃燒。
我：喔，對對對，我忘了，可是我以為焦黑了。
張：沒有，只有燻黑，鄉公所說沒關係。
林：我不相信，你們在騙我。
張：騙妳幹什麼？這是他們的傳統。原住民哪有紙？沒有，可是木頭很多。
林：真的嗎？
我：妳沒看新聞嗎？以前我們到行政院抗議，要求不要用紙作的身分證，因為這不是我們的傳統，ini gaga Tayal，我們爭取用木頭作的身分證。
林：#@%!!***%#!@@!
_________
PS: 沒有Keqing這個人；keqing的意思是頭暈。
我跟張到邱老闆的店，可是邱老闆外出，只有老闆娘林小姐在。我第一次見到她。
聊一聊，她問我，你是外國人嗎？
張說：他不是。
我說：我是山地人。
林：真的嗎？
張：沒錯，他是我們烏來的山地人。
林：我不相信。
張：妳沒看過烏來的泰雅族很多這種長相嗎？
林：我不相信。
我：Balay balay bi, talah nonux qloyus nguhuw na Tayal knan.
林：那你身分證拿出來給我看。
張：他沒帶。
林：你看，明明是唬人的。
我：沒有哇，真的啦，我們山地人的證件都是木頭的，所以不好帶。
張：對呀，原住民的身分證都是刻在木頭上的。這是他們的傳統。
我：可是問題是，這樣很重，所以不好帶。所以，除非有事，不然通常不會帶在身上。
張：他們的身分證都刻的很漂亮，所以不用的時候，掛在牆上作裝飾。
我：是啊，去年Keqing的房子失火，結果全家的身分證都燒毀了。
張：沒有，他兒子帶身分證去游泳，當木筏坐在上面，所以回家的時候濕透了，所以沒燃燒。
我：喔，對對對，我忘了，可是我以為焦黑了。
張：沒有，只有燻黑，鄉公所說沒關係。
林：我不相信，你們在騙我。
張：騙妳幹什麼？這是他們的傳統。原住民哪有紙？沒有，可是木頭很多。
林：真的嗎？
我：妳沒看新聞嗎？以前我們到行政院抗議，要求不要用紙作的身分證，因為這不是我們的傳統，ini gaga Tayal，我們爭取用木頭作的身分證。
林：#@%!!***%#!@@!
_________
PS: 沒有Keqing這個人；keqing的意思是頭暈。
Thursday, September 14, 2006
We love Taiwan: I did not make this up.一家店的老闆，每次看到我進來，大開話匣子：外省人沒有一個好的(他是閩南人)，臺灣的問題都是國民黨造成的，不要相信客家人，愛臺灣，原住民都是番都是笨蛋很好騙，臺灣獨立的時候美國跟日本一定會派軍保護，是是是老闆說的是…
那天他女兒也在店裡，老闆突然說，我女兒比兒子好。
我驚訝，因為依我的經驗，越綠的人越大男人主義。我問為甚麼？
因為生她，我們到加拿大生。她是在加拿大生的。
有差嗎？
當然有差!她在加拿大生，醫院裡都是白種人，可是我兒子是在臺北生的，醫院裡醫生護士都是臺灣人，怎麼會好？我女兒生在加拿大，都是白種人，加拿大沒甚麼黑人，她當然比她哥哥好。
那家店，我不想再去。
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
英文是我的母語，我教了很久，所以我有把握，開口講就是對的；不管發音，不懂文法，說出口縱然偶爾不太對，可是非常少，錯的話也不會太嚴重，若嚴重，自己馬上察覺糾正。很多人講英文，雖不是母語也不教英文，但因為練習很久了，情形跟我一樣：說出口就好了，不要管發音、文法。但初學者一定不可以這樣：初學必須很注意發音，勤快練習句型，有耐心地加強聽力，一步一步來。
一個老太太到廟裡拜拜。廟公跟她說，「不用吃素。吃素吃葷，不要執著，酒肉穿腸過，何必執著？」
老太太困惑，問我。第一，穿腸這句出自小說家誇張寫法，濟公活佛絕對沒有講過這麼沒有水準的話。濟公活佛持戒森嚴，邪靈假藉他的帽子作出喝酒狀，這是旁門左道，這不是佛法。(佛菩薩哪有靠乩童顯靈？有沒有腦袋？)
第二，縱使有穿腸，那是活佛的境界，你能嗎？民國初年的金山活佛常吃廚餘，發臭發酸他照樣吃，你能嗎？你已經修成活佛，你才資格說穿腸。
我沒有那種程度。我很想去找那個廟公，灑一泡尿、撿一堆狗屎給他：「你能不執著嗎？你要把這個當美酒佳餚吃下去；不能的話，趕快給我爬到馬祖面前懺悔。」
順便踹幾腳：不要執著！踹腳即非踹腳，是名踹腳，廟公不是境界很高嗎？連被踹幾腳都要執著嗎？
一個老太太到廟裡拜拜。廟公跟她說，「不用吃素。吃素吃葷，不要執著，酒肉穿腸過，何必執著？」
老太太困惑，問我。第一，穿腸這句出自小說家誇張寫法，濟公活佛絕對沒有講過這麼沒有水準的話。濟公活佛持戒森嚴，邪靈假藉他的帽子作出喝酒狀，這是旁門左道，這不是佛法。(佛菩薩哪有靠乩童顯靈？有沒有腦袋？)
第二，縱使有穿腸，那是活佛的境界，你能嗎？民國初年的金山活佛常吃廚餘，發臭發酸他照樣吃，你能嗎？你已經修成活佛，你才資格說穿腸。
我沒有那種程度。我很想去找那個廟公，灑一泡尿、撿一堆狗屎給他：「你能不執著嗎？你要把這個當美酒佳餚吃下去；不能的話，趕快給我爬到馬祖面前懺悔。」
順便踹幾腳：不要執著！踹腳即非踹腳，是名踹腳，廟公不是境界很高嗎？連被踹幾腳都要執著嗎？
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Monday, September 11, 2006
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.
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.
Sunday, September 10, 2006
Saturday, September 09, 2006
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!
Friday, September 08, 2006
Thursday, September 07, 2006
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？
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？
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
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.
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.
Monday, September 04, 2006
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.
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.
Sunday, September 03, 2006
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.
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.
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