Wafa Sultan Speaks the Truth

I am sick of politics and religion. While my interest remains high, my appetite to engage in deep, continued discourse has severely diminished over the years. Primarily the continuing radicalization of society, with polarized opinions at the edges that have drained a shallow center, has contributed greatly to my apathy. As a believer in logic and reason I find the vitriolic and emotionally charged arguments of radicals increasingly tiresome. Radical opinion around the world has leveraged religious zeal and blatant misinformation to exploit naive sensibilities. Commonsense and humanity have been sacrificed at the alter of political power.

What I find scary in developing economies, is that the disaffected masses serve as prey, in a fertile breeding ground for hatred and violence. There is great frustration in their poor lives and unfortunately, religious leaders exploit that fervor for their own selfish motivations. However, what I find especially scary is that in developed economies the middle ground of reason has also been polarized by religious manipulation.

I have no problems with any religion. In its truest form, each major religion in the world preaches acceptance, peace, and love. However political exploitation of religion has lead to the creation of distorted faith across religions- personally I'd rather follow my own convictions than be associated with any label. As religion radicalizes the political center, the moral compass of society no longer points to true north- that is common sense. So in the world today, religion causes far more problems today, than it solves.

Surprisingly my frustration with politics and the faithful was succinctly and eloquently encapsulated by a Syrian-American psychiatrist living in Los Angeles. I hope you agree that Dr. Wafa Sultan speaks the truth.

My Most Prized Possession

In 1967 my father bought an Omega Constellation in Geneva. It's mine now, and I cherish it. The watch epitomizes my father- his class, his style, and his sense of being. Asides from being an absolutely beautiful watch, I recently realized why I love it with all my heart- its not so much the watch that I love, it's the man it symbolizes, my Pa.

I, like many other punks, had a very contentious relationship with my father for, well, most of my life. Actually let me take a step back- I actually didn't have a relationship, as such, with Pa for the longest time. My father was too quiet, aloof, and intimidating. I knew innately that he loved us dearly but it wasn't typical of his generation to be vocal or outward in his affection. That's just the way it was. Due to the age difference between my parents (15 years- very unusual now, but not as significant in 1973), we were naturally closer to Ma. Now growing up in the States till the age of 9, I envied the other kids who played catch with their Dads, or went to baseball games, or just spent time together. There was never that dynamic with my father and I, like a fool, mistook his silence for indifference.

My father is a self-made man, and it was after he saw how hard I worked to make it on my own, did I earn his respect. It also took me reaching out and making an effort to include him in my life, slowly, over a period of five years. I realize now that all along he wanted to reach out and be part of my life, but just didn't know how. Recently, when I was visiting the folks, Pa had a medical situation. The preliminary signs pointed to pancreatic cancer- a highly aggressive cancer with less than a 10% chance of survival beyond 12 months. I was the first one to find out, and that first night I didn't know how to begin explaining this to Ma and Pa. That night, I thought about life without Pa. I wept. I wept for all the years and time that was lost without telling him how much he meant to me. I thought to myself, there was so much that I wanted to talk to him about, to learn about his life, from his experiences, and that I needed his advice. I wanted to discuss and laugh about politics, tennis, and how women make no sense (!). More than anything I wanted to, finally, just be with him. He wasn't alone now, that I was by his side. And now, that would never happen.

Well, I was lucky. Pa was misdiagnosed, there was no cancer, pancreatic or otherwise. Perhaps it was God's rather blunt way of making me recognize the value of this great man and the time we have left together. I am grateful for the chance to right all the wrongs of the past. Listen to me, carefully: Take advantage of this opportunity and make your peace with your father. Reach out to him and over time you will get through. Most importantly, at this point in his life, don't alienate your Pa, respect his wishes. While they may not seem right now, in time you will understand the wisdom of his ways. Remember, you can live with a broken heart, but regret will bleed you empty.

The Peril of Lending Books

Simple peril of lending books- you don't get your them back. Ever. Look I'm a generous guy, I am. And I have paid dearly for my generosity. It took an especially painful lesson before I instituted my current, No Book Borrowing Ever, policy.

It was 1990, the Gulf War 1.0 was underway, I, as a 14 year old refugee in Pennsylvania, bought a hardcover edition of The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. I loved that book. Why? It was my escape every night from thinking about the War- a war that displaced us from our home and life, and more importantly left us without any news of Papa, who was missing. A father's presence is a silent shadow of support that you don't notice until it's gone. Such heavy thoughts for a 14 year old to ponder at the time. So instead of feeling completely miserable, I read The Guide every night. I loved The Guide, it was my friend- funny, confusing, and it made sense! I even had the original version with the cover that had the big happy planet eating a smaller happy planet (true Guide fans will know of what I speak). I read it 12 times between 1990-1994.

It's my senior year of high school and my girlfriend at the time 'borrows' The Guide. Like I fool I parted with it. Sadly, I never got it back. She moved, and so did I. Even though I subsequently bought a replacement copy, it was never quite the same, the magic was gone.

Now instead of lending books, I just gift them. I figure I won't get them back anyways, so I might as well autograph them and say adios. There are certain books that are my 'favorites' (I know that sounds like I'm about 7) and I just say you are welcome to come over and read them! I don't care what people think- as they say once bitten twice shy.

Ryokan

One day I will stay here. The finest of all Japanese ryokan.

Tawaraya

Immediately upon entering the gate, guests can sense the beauty and tranquility of Tawaraya, as if they had slipped back 300 years in time. A world completely removed from the surrounding city unfolds inside. Each room differs from the others in design. Views into the garden from each room are calculated so meticulously that each scene resembles a Japanese painting. Both the inner garden (where flowers are arranged in a stone basin) and the dimly lit corridors (where pager lanterns create plays of light and shadow) are truly artistic. With refined taste reigning supreme, each room is different and exquisitely appointed. Some, for example, have glass sliding doors opening onto a mossy garden of bamboo, stone lanterns, and manicured bushes, with cushions on a wooden veranda where you can sit and soak in the peacefulness.

This is an inn that not only conveys tradition but also has been designed with a fresh, modern perspective. Unfortunately, fire consumed the original building, so the oldest part of the ryokan now dates back a mere 175 years. From the timber used in its construction to the towels, bedding, nightwear, amenities, and meals, the inn presents the best quality possible. A night at Tawaraya is a most memorable experience because the inn exudes at every turn the aesthetic sensitivity of its 11th-generation proprietress, Toshi Sato. Sixty staff tend the needs of guests in the inn's 18 rooms.

Address: Anekoji-agaru, Fuya-cho Nakagyoku, Kyoto-shi, Kyoto-fu, 604-8094
Tel: 075-211-5566
Fax: 075-211-2204
Rooms: 18 Japanese style
Rate: $350 to $850

Insomnia

Kurt Cobain once said:

"I'm so tired I can't sleep."
(Sit and drink pennyroyal tea)
(I am anemic royalty...)

Insomnia- unfortunately a long-time companion. A quiet shadow that looms over you every day, draining your life-force, that silent assassin. So after many many years, I'll admit that today my insomnia is the best* (or worst depending on how you look at it) that its been in ages. I manage to fall asleep every night at a relatively reasonable time. Now the quality of that sleep remain dubious at best- I am, and remain, a terribly light sleeper. I don't always take advantage of that really good healing-type R.E.M. sleep. However here's what I've learned from my insomnia in general:

1. It's very difficult to 'turn-off' your mind, you need to actively think about not thinking
   
2. Counting sheep doesn't work- I just end up getting bored
3. Reading helps- sometimes- other times I just keep on reading for hours
4. Tipping point- at a certain point you're hardly cognizant but still awake
5. 5 hours isn't so bad- Margaret Thatcher ran a country on 5 hours a night
6. Paying off sleep debt- every couple of weeks I'll crash for 12-15 hours straight
7. Drinking warm milk doesn't help
8. Exercising doesn't help- on the contrary I have more energy
9. Watching TV doesn't help- mostly I'll watch tv on mute
10. I'm a very light sleeper- my ears wake up regularly before my eyes
    

So what have I done differently? Well for one I stopped stressing about my life and my future. That has been part of a bigger, more holistic change I've made which would probably take about 3 hours to detail the what, where, how, and why. I've also reconciled myself to the fact that I won't get great sleep, and now manage to get through my day without being a total zombie/idiot.
Finally I've realized the more you don't want to think about something, the more you end up thinking about it. It's very similar to The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy explanation on flying (one of my favorite parts):

There is an art, it says, or rather, a knack to flying.
The knack lies in learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss.
Pick a nice day, it suggests, and try it.
The first part is easy.
All it requires is simply the ability to throw yourself forward with all your weight, and willingness not to mind that it's going to hurt.
That is, it's going to hurt if you fail to miss the ground.
Most people fail to miss the ground, and if they are really trying properly, the likelihood is that they will fail to miss it fairly hard.
Clearly, it is this second part, the missing, which presents the difficulties.
One problem is that you have to miss the ground accidentally. It's no good deliberately intending to miss the ground because you won't. You have to have your attention suddenly distracted by something else when you're halfway there, so that you are no longer thinking about falling, or about the ground, or about how much it's going to hurt if you fail to miss it.
It is notoriously difficult to prise your attention away from these three things during the split second you have at your disposal. Hence most people's failure, and their eventual disillusionment with this exhilarating and spectacular sport.
If, however, you are lucky enough to have your attention momentarily distracted at the crucial moment by, say, a gorgeous pair of legs (tentacles, pseudopodia, according to phyllum and/or personal inclination) or a bomb going off in your vicinity, or by suddenly spotting an extremely rare species of beetle crawling along a nearby twig, then in your astonishment you will miss the ground completely and remain bobbing just a few inches above it in what might seem to be a slightly foolish manner.

So key to falling asleep is to think about sleep without thinking about it. I think...anyways gnite mite and good luck!

* hard core insomniacs look like crackheads- I, hopefully at this point, don't look like I'm strung out on heroin

Robert Frost is Good for You

My favorite poet. I'm not sure if people are meant to have favorite poets, like say, favorite shoes, but I sincerely believe your life will be enriched by reading Robert Frost. Periodically, in this forum I'll include examples of great writing. Bon appetit:

Fire and Ice by Robert Frost

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

Prelude by Rudyard Kipling

I have eaten your bread and salt.
I have drunk your water and wine.
In deaths ye died I have watched beside,
And the lives ye led were mine.

Was there aught that I did not share
In vigil or toil or ease, --
One joy or woe that I did not know,
Dear hearts across the seas?

I have written the tale of our life
For a sheltered people's mirth,
In jesting guise -- but ye are wise,
And ye know what the jest is worth.

The Art of the Zapper

The TV remote control is integral to our entertainment experience. In the hands of a novice or an incompetent person the entire viewing dynamic is jeopardized. What's more annoying than sub-optimal zapping maneuverability? (Well dirty cars, but I've already ranted about that)

Rules for Zapping

1. Prioritize 2, or preferably 3, channels with interesting concurrent programming
   
2. Do not waste any time on commercials
3. Do not cycle through channels in a linear fashion- it is inefficient
   
4. Know your key channels by heart, so you can surf dynamically
   

Following these simple rules you too can become a Zapping Jedi. I realize that with the last series of posts I may come across as a bit of a, well, control freak. I'm not (no seriously I'm not). It's just that these are such simple things that most, if not all, people regardless of IQ, can easily conquer. Following my way you will look sharp, be efficient, and hopefully, be driving a cleaner car :) The other aspect i.e. making you more interesting, well we're working on that.

For Aspring Writers

For those aspiring writers out there, I feel your pain. Be strong, be confident, it will come together. So learn from the best- I've always loved Ian Fleming's direct, compact prose:

How to Write a Thriller
by Ian Fleming

People often ask me, "How do you manage to think of that? What an extraordinary (or sometimes extraordinarily dirty) mind you must have." I certainly have got vivid powers of imagination, but I don't think there is anything very odd about that.

We are all fed fairy stories and adventure stories and ghost stories for the first 20 years of our lives, and the only difference between me and perhaps you is that my imagination earns me money.

But, to revert to my first book, Casino Royale, there are strong incidents in the book which are all based on fact. I extracted them from my wartime memories of the Naval Intelligence Division of the Admiralty, dolled them up, attached a hero, a villain and a heroine, and there was the book.

The first was the attempt on Bond's life outside the Hotel Splendide. SMERSH had given two Bulgarian assassins box camera cases to hang over their shoulders. One was of red leather and the other one blue. SMERSH told the Bulgarians that the red one contained a bomb and the blue one a powerful smoke screen, under cover of which they could escape.

One was to throw the red bomb and the other was then to press the button on the blue case. But the Bulgars mistrusted the plan and decided to press the button on the blue case and envelop themselves in the smoke screen before throwing the bomb.

In fact, the blue case also contained a bomb powerful enough to blow both the Bulgars to fragments and remove all evidence which might point to SMERSH.

Farfetched, you might say. In fact, this was the method used in the Russian attempt on Von Papen's life in Ankara in the middle of the war. On that occasion the assassins were also Bulgarians and they were blown to nothing while Von Papen and his wife, walking from their house to the embassy; were only bruised by the blast.

So you see the line between fact and fantasy is a very narrow one. I think I could trace most of the central incidents in my books to some real happenings.

We thus come to the final and supreme hurdle in the writing of a thriller. You must know thrilling things before you can write about them. Imagination alone isn't enough, but stories you hear from friends or read in the papers can be built up by a fertile imagination and a certain amount of research and documentation into incidents that will also ring true in fiction.

Having assimilated all this encouraging advice, your heart will nevertheless quail at the physical effort involved in writing even a thriller. I warmly sympathise with you. I too, am lazy My heart sinks when I contemplate the two or three hundred virgin sheets of foolscap I have to besmirch with more or less well chosen words in order to produce a 60,000 word book.

One of the essentials is to create a vacuum in my life which can only be satisfactorily filled by some form of creative work - whether it be writing, painting, sculpting, composing or just building a boat - I was about to get married - a prospect which filled me with terror and mental fidget. To give my hands something to do, and as an antibody to my qualms about the marriage state after 43 years as a bachelor, I decided one day to damned well sit down and write a book.

The therapy was successful. And while I still do a certain amount of writing in the midst of my London Life, it is on my annual visits to Jamaica that all my books have been written.

But, failing a hideaway such as I possess, I can recommend hotel bedrooms as far removed from your usual "life" as possible. Your anonymity in these drab surroundings and your lack of friends and distractions will create a vacuum which should force you into a writing mood and, if your pocket is shallow, into a mood which will also make you write fast and with application. I do it all on the typewriter, using six fingers. The act of typing is far less exhausting than the act of writing, and you end up with a more or less clean manuscript The next essential is to keep strictly to a routine. I write for about three hours in the morning - from about 9:30 till 12:30and I do another hour's work between six and seven in the evening. At the end of this I reward myself by numbering the pages and putting them away in a spring-back folder. The whole of this four hours of daily work is devoted to writing narrative.

I never correct anything and I never go back to what I have written, except to the foot of the last page to see where I have got to. If you once look back, you are lost. How could you have written this drivel? How could you have used "terrible" six times on one page? And so forth. If you interrupt the writing of fast narrative with too much introspection and self-criticism, you will be lucky if you write 500 words a day and you will be disgusted with them into the bargain. By following my formula, you write 2,000 words a day and you aren't disgusted with them until the book is finished, which will be in about six weeks.

I don't even pause from writing to choose the right word or to verify spelling or a fact. All this can be done when your book is finished.

When my book is completed I spend about a week going through it and correcting the most glaring errors and rewriting passages. I then have it properly typed with chapter headings and all the rest of the trimmings. I then go through it again, have the worst pages retyped and send it off to my publisher.

They are a sharp-eyed bunch at Jonathan Cape and, apart from commenting on the book as a whole, they make detailed suggestions which I either embody or discard. Then the final typescript goes to the printer and in due course the galley or page proofs are there and you can go over them with a fresh eye. Then the book is published and you start getting letters from people saying that Vent Vert is made by Balmain and not by Dior, that the Orient Express has vacuum and not hydraulic brakes, and that you have mousseline sauce and not Bearnaise with asparagus.

Such mistakes are really nobody's fault except the author's, and they make him blush furiously when he sees them in print. But the majority of the public does not mind them or, worse, does not even notice them,
and it is a dig at the author's vanity to realise how quickly the reader's eye skips across the words which it has taken him so many months to try to arrange in the right sequence.

But what, after all these labours, are the rewards of writing and, in my case, of writing thrillers?

First of all, they are financial. You don't make a great deal of money from royalties and translation rights and so forth and, unless you are very industrious and successful, you could only just about live on these profits, but if you sell the serial rights and the film rights, you do very well. Above all, being a successful writer is a good life. You don't have to work at it all the time and you carry your office around in your head. And you are far more aware of the world around you.

Writing makes you more alive to your surroundings and, since the main ingredient of living, though you might not think so to look at most human beings, is to be alive, this is quite a worthwhile by-product of writing.

Foreign Film

I hate foreign film snobs. I really do. This also includes people who pontificate about the merits of independent film, the evils of the Hollywood machine, and profess their love for art-house cinema.

"Oooo I love the colorful montages that Fellini paints, film is his canvas"

"Ugh I don't want to see ____, let's watch that independent Peruvian film on the life of mountain goats- the proceeds benefit fair-trade coffee farmers!"

"I only watch Japanese horror, it's much better"

Well despite my juvenile obsession with Japan, I would tend to agree with the last statement. There is some seriously sick shit in Japanese films (especially those by Takashi Miike...I highly recommend you do not look at these screencaps).

Having said that, some foreign films that are worth watching:

1. Cinema Paradiso
2. Il Postino
3. Maria Full of Grace
   
4. Ichi the Killer

I was going to add La Vita Bella (Life is Beautiful) but it was nominated for an Oscar, and for us film snobs that is the cinematic equivalent of haram.

The Coolest Kids in the World

If you ever have the opportunity to live overseas with your family, I highly recommend it. Send your kids to an international school and give them the opportunity to form friendships the likes of which may not be replicated. These are lifetime friendships and they have withstood the test of time and distance. I doubled dipped- I was lucky to attend an international school (ASK) and a diverse university (McGill- in Montreal- an amazing urban setting). It wasn't the natives that made these places unique it was the opportunity to meet kids who, like me, were global nomads. The setting itself was secondary, a mere forum or channel for these kids to connect- the beginnings of a global social network.

According to wikipedia, a 'Third Culture Kid' or (what I prefer) Global Nomad:

"refers to someone who as a child has spent a significant period of time in one or more culture(s) other than his or her own, thus integrating elements of those cultures and their own birth culture, into a third culture"

So these kids were career expatriates, more comfortable in foreign cultures than their own, having lived longer overseas than they did in their native countries. When these global nomads converge the results are incredible- each contributing their own patchwork quilt or collage of experiences and ideas that leads to tremendous energy and fun.

The Trek

I've lived in 5 countries, 9 cities, the eastern hemisphere and the west. However, it wasn't until I was graduated from college that I recognized the complications of holding a Third World passport. Being a global traveler and citizen, getting visas and breezing through airports was par for the course. At graduation, before I was started my professional life, I took stock of my life and realized the relative weakness of the cards I held.

It's the spring of 1999 and I was in Montreal pondering my imminent future. Bubba's still in the White House, the dotcom boom is minting instant millionaires, and like most foolhardy 22 year olds, I believed its only a question of time before I was anointed with greatness. Ha! If I only knew...

Rewind back to August 1976 on a rainy day in London, it's still 2 months before I'm born in Oslo, Norway. Mom misses Dad, who recently has been transferred to Oslo, too much to postpone her move until after I'm born. Now, if I was born in England, instead of Norway, today I'd be Her Majesty's subject holding a nifty British EU passport. Instead, I was born in Norway and the Norwegians, too, bestow citizenship but (and it's a huge but) only after you've lived there for 5 years, can speak Norwegian, and have completed x years of schooling in Norway. Sigh. Net net, I end up with passport issued by the Islamic Republic of Pakistan. Fast-foward back to Montreal: I realize that I'm essentially an Economic Refugee. I also realize that Greatness is going to be a tougher mountain to climb than what I originally expected.

So as I chain-smoked Player Lights, here are the choices I face:

1. Move back to Pakistan- a country where I have lived a grand total of 5 years in my life, none of those years since the age of 12. A country where the future is (at the time) bleak, my options limited, and most importantly it paints me into a corner.
   
2. Stay in Canada- somehow get Canadian immigration, somehow find a job (which are not abundant in French-speaking Montreal), somehow survive more winters.
3. Move to the US- take the job offer in Pittsburgh, navigate the notorious immigration process and, of course, become a billionaire

Here's how the events unfolded-

1999-2001: get my first work permit, but no greencard commitment. On cue- dotcom bubble goes supernova, economy tanks, Dubya elected, 9.11, etc.
2002-KH starts greencard trek. Price: 20% pay cut + (essentially) startup situation
2005- After moving to Madison fucking cold Wisconsin, temporarily renting a room with no-heating (God's honest truth), surviving 3 rounds of layoffs, and endless sleepless nights of anxiety...KH is finally a US permanent resident!

Am I the spy who came in from the cold? Post-greencard its been easy cruising- I've been headhunted for jobs, doubled my income, and moved to California. No, I'm not a billionaire, but I will have a US passport in a couple of years. In the past 8 years, there were times that truly tested the strength of my character. And to be perfectly honest, I spent many a sleepless night, strung out on anxiety, coping with the inherent uncertainty of my situation. I'd be lying if I said I never considered throwing in the towel because life was simply too tough.

However unlike popular global opinion, I have great love for the United States. I came here, a Third World kid with a Canadian education, 1 suitcase, and $70 in my pocket. Now, I could lament about how hard I've had to work in comparison to some of my peers and friends, however I learned a long time ago that life is not fair. Sadly some people will never experience a fundamental test of will, learn about the strength of their character, or have the satisfaction of surveying a conquered mountain through sheer hard work and single-minded dedication. Looking back, I am grateful for the opportunities this country provided me to improve my life. And in a way, I am the American Dream.

As I write these words it occurs to me that there are millions in less fortunate situations who won't have the same opportunities that I had. Perhaps a world without borders would reach a state of equilibrium where everyone has an equal chance to earn a better life. It's an idealistic thought process; perhaps a more achievable goal is to improve economic viability and access to education. It's the suffering of the less fortunate that makes me think and, at the same time, makes me sad.

Dirty Cars

I'm probably going to sound like an anal-freak when I say this, and maybe I am (a bit), but...I detest, hate, loathe, abhor dirty cars. Honestly short of finding a nice curly hair in my food, there is NOTHING more that I hate. And my question is why?

Do you wear week old underwear?
Would you go out with a giant stain on your shirt?
Are you incapable of basic hygiene?

Some basic rules:

1. Never eat in your car, eating can be accomplished just as well outside the car
2. Never, ever, smoke in your car. It's disgusting. Your car is not an ashtray
3. Never leave crap in your car. Throw it away you probably don't need it
4. Get it hand-waxed every 3 months- any more and you damage the paint

A dirty car says volumes about you. It says that you don't care about yourself. So why should someone else? I realize that in terms of priorities there are greater things that require greater attention. However it's the small details that constitutes life. I drive an old car, it's a 1995 Mercedes C280 (isn't she beautiful?). I get it washed every 10 days and, inside, it smells faintly of lemons. I don't do it for anyone, but myself. It feels great. Try it out, you'll feel better about your miserable life.

Perception = Reality

I'd like to make it abundantly clear that I am vehemently opposed to the wholesale 'casual-look' trend that permeates contemporary work environments. Call me old school but I remember the time when people dressed up for travel. There was a sense of occasion, prestige, even a certain decorum associated with flying. Unfortunately, now in the modern workplace you see jeans (of dubious quality), white socks, wrinkles, and sneakers. And that is wrong, wrong I tell you! Why?

Well perception is reality, it's that simple.

What happened to dress for success?
Or dress for the job you want, not the job you have?
Do people not take pride in themselves any more?
Is it better to look just mediocre?
Don't you want to be the best and look your best?

And when I say dressing up I don't mean white tie and tails. I believe the way you look says a lot about who you are. Now if you're going to come back with the customary, well 'I don't care what people think', well then you're more immature and naive than I thought. Look if we're constantly judged and stereotyped in society, why not put yourself in the best possible position?

Perfect grooming is about your brand, and it's up to you to define it. Personally, I aim to be the best, so I strive to look the best. Now I probably overdo it a bit more than most...but here's what I wear typically to work:

• Freshly laundered and pressed french cuff shirt
  
• Cuff links (I have many, they are my weakness)
• V-neck sweater (weather permitting)
• Precisely ironed (dry cleaned) slacks
• Sleek shoes- no laces, laces are stupid and inefficient
  

Damn I look good! And so you will you. So stop being lame and fix your wardrobe. You'll feel better about yourself too, maybe you'll even develop an aura of sophistication/class like, well, me :)

Celtic Tiger

There's someone I know who is terribly obsessed with Ireland, and I thought that someone would find this terribly interesting (since Malcolm Gladwell has a unique way of explaining life, the universe, and everything). I know we're not supposed to talk about traditional bloggy items in this forum so consider this a one-time exception:

"In Ireland during the sixties, when contraception was illegal, there were ten people who were too old or too young to work for every fourteen people in a position to earn a paycheck. That meant that the country was spending a large percentage of its resources on caring for the young and the old. Last year, Ireland's dependency ratio hit an all-time low: for every ten dependents, it had twenty-two people of working age. That change coincides precisely with the country's extraordinary economic surge."

- Excerpt from "What's behind Ireland's economic miracle**" by Malcolm Gladwell

** scroll to item #2

Elements of Chance

Serendipity- the effect by which one accidentally discovers something fortunate, especially while looking for something else entirely.

I like the idea of serendipity, there's a certain romance to it. It's like Forrest Gump said:

"I don't know if we each have a destiny, or if we're all just floating around accidental-like on a breeze. But I think maybe it's both. Maybe both is happening at the same time."

I believe that where you go in your life is based on chance, but who you meet has an element of destiny. What you do about is, of course, individual choice.

Learn Fools II

So you're ready to serve her the Scrambled Eggs a' la Gordon Ramsey? Well here's why I am, and will remain, cooler than you. The key is how they are served, perhaps Ian Fleming can provide some insight:

Break the eggs into a bowl. Beat thoroughly with a fork and season well. In a small copper (or heavy bottomed saucepan) melt four oz. of the butter. When melted, pour in the eggs and cook over a very low heat, whisking continuously with a small egg whisk.

While the eggs are slightly more moist than you would wish for eating, remove the pan from heat, add rest of butter and continue whisking for half a minute, adding the while finely chopped chives or fines herbes.

Serve on hot buttered toast in individual copper dishes (for appearance only) with pink champagne (Taittinger) and low music.

That is very cool. And sophisticated.

Museums

One of my favorite scenes from (one of my favorite movies) Ferris Bueller's Day Off, is when the gang is staring at paintings at the Art Institute of Chicago. Having lived in Chicago, I've actually done the same (including going to the top of the Sears Tower, planting my forehead against the window, and looking straight down- very fun).

Nevertheless back to the museum- what a great way to spend an afternoon- it's like you're becoming smart by breathing the museum air, and by embracing the energy of great talent that came in the centuries before you. Having said that, you must do this at least once in your life:

1. Go to the Louvre (that's in Paris, which is in France)
2. Find 'The Raft of the Medusa' by Théodore Géricault
3. Stare

The painting depicts the survivors of a shipwreck, who resorted to cannibalism to survive (the vegetarians went first). "In order to make his Raft of the Medusa as realistic as possible, Géricault made sketches of bodies in the morgue of the Hospital Beaujon." Go enrich your life.

Learn Fools Learn

So you want to impress a girl? The good ones won't be impressed by your car, your paycheck, or even your looks (although I admit they have helped me- yes I know I'm quite handsome). What girls do like is charm. Now how do you define charm? Charm, I believe, is the ability to provide a sense of excitement, adventure, and mystery- simply put she has to look forward to experiencing you. Think of every little interaction, whether its in person, on the phone, or even over email, as an opportunity for her to experience something unique. Heighten her sense of anticipation and, my friend, you will get the girl.

Quite easily done, yes? Well, in a word, no! (it's not easy making your vanilla existence seem more interesting). However fear not poopypants, all is not lost! With some ingenuity (which I'll provide) you too can learn to be well, like me :)

Invite her for brunch- now instead of taking her to the local greasy spoon, do this instead.

You, my friend, are on your way! Best, KH

PS- In time, her fondest memories will be the time you made the Gordon Ramsey brunch, or taught her how to paint- the small gestures that made a big difference

Parental Supervision

While I'm sure everyone would like to hear details of my trials and tribulations growing up, we have established that this forum isn't meant to bore my loyal fans with whiny, 'woe is me', nonsense. Look everyone has a story about perseverance, growing pains, and 'discovering' themselves, my point is who cares? If there is some great insight, I might be willing to listen but on the whole, the masses largely regress to the mean.

Some thoughts on parenting styles- parents basically have two options:

1. Hands-off: do what you want as long as the outcomes are acceptable
2. Hands-on: do what we want and the outcomes better be acceptable

Like most things, I believe a combination is probably the best. The problem with parents who establish totalitarian regimes is that they don't understand the core of basic human psychology: curiosity. Think about it, in wisdom literature, the first fable of all time is about the weakness of man in desiring that which is forbidden. That is the first thing 'God' wanted us to understand, humans are curious. Please note all religions, commandments, and fatwas came later. So my sage advice for parents, don't insulate your kids from understanding the world i.e. don't do this, don't do that, this is bad, that is wrong, you essentially create artificial desire and pique their curiosity. Your kids will most likely end up indulging in the very things you desperately wanted them to avoid. In the end it becomes a matter of trust- totalitarian regimes have marginal trust in their subjects, hence the top-down heavy handed approach to parenting.

Wouldn't a better approach be for children to make informed choices without living in a state of fear? I said earlier most things regress to the mean, and that holds true for choices as well. Final thoughts: Don't impose your choices on your kids. Establish trust and in the end they'll do the right thing. Hopefully :)

Mind Your Language

Do you ever think that television programming nowadays is so politically correct? Mind Your Language is a British show from 70s. For the uninitiated, it was set in London at a night school where an assortment of foreigners are taking an English class.

Every single stereotype that you can think of is shown, and exploited. It's great! Here's what they were like:

German- serious and humorless
French and Swede characters- dim-witted, flirtatious, sexually liberated and very hot
Chinese- hardcore Maoist who carries her Little Red Book everywhere
Pakistani and Sikh- heavy accents with a lot of head shaking (haha!)
Greek and Italian- macho, flirtatious, hitting on the Swede and French girls

I believe what made it great was that England in the 70s was a truly that multicultural, and the show as microcosm of London society at the time. I've lived in 5 countries and 9 cities, I truly consider myself a global citizen, yet I find nothing wrong with light-hearted fun at things we all notice, but are now too 'politically correct' to say. Nevertheless I highly recommend watching it, cheers MYL I wish there was more like you today.

Vegetarians

I have nothing against vegetarians. Many of my friends and family members are vegetarians. The problem I have is with vegetarian snobs. Their condescending attitude manifests itself in two ways:

1. Being a vegetarian is healthier: no it's not. A balanced diet is good for you.
2. Being a vegetarian is ethically correct: maybe. But honestly in a world where human rights are routinely trampled, we're worrying about animal rights? What about priorities? What about vegetable rights? Or for that matter the rights of anything we consume!
   

The holier than thou approach, looking down their nose at us 'carnivores' is just so, so lame. You can't expect me to believe that by eating vegetables you're a superior human being. Don't even get me started of vegans. Vegans, for those who don't know the difference, don't consume or use animal by-products i.e. cow's milk, leather jackets, or eggs. They can also be retarded.

I'm all for individual choice, but it's lame when you start imposing your beliefs on others. Live and let live, or in this case live and let die!

Intervention

Friends, please let me know if I ever start sounding like this:

"The roses are sooooo pretty! Even prettier in real life. They make me happy every time I smell them or happen to glance over at their soft petals. I should pick flowers more often."

I mean what's the point? Okay you like flowers, great! So does the rest of Holland, and my next door neighbor. I can understand the 'pressure' of regular blogging means creating new, original content, but pleeeeease...look maybe there are people out there who love this sort of writing, I for one, am not a fan. That's just my opinion. No I'm not going to give you the link to the aforementioned blog, so don't bother asking. (Plus how hard can it be to find the guilty blog using the Google Brain?)

Next Year

Recently I've been seriously thinking about b-school. I'm resolved to go next year, and I'm sure I'll get into a great school (after all, this is me, we're talking about...come on). However some days I wonder if it's false bravado, and whether I will really get into that great mba program? I'm inherently a confident person, and I've achieved everything I've set out to do (so far), however I do find the entire application process daunting: GMAT, recommendations, essays, and interviews. I mean it's b-school, is it supposed to be HARDER than real life?!

Asides from that I'm seriously thinking about schools in Europe, no not for the great weather, but simply because there are more 1 year programs. In and out, like Clark Kent changing in a phone booth. I also think it'll be cool to be in Europe after a long time, I haven't visited since...jesus 1993! Who knows maybe I'll even find time to meet a pretty girl? or two? Haha!

You know, since graduating from college, I've been so disciplined about my life, so dedicated and single-minded in my focus, that I think I'm ready to consider having fun again. Remember I used to be the life of the party? I think that part of me is coming back, and man it's going to be great :)

Very Creative

No explanation needed, this is genius (in my opinion, and since it's my blog it's my opinion that counts so...so there!)

Date Format

In the US the date format is month-day-year. Now the US does everything different compared to Europe, and I'm okay with that. It was all about sticking it to the former-colonial masters (the Brits) every way possible, which in a way is nice. Left hand drive cars, light switches flipping up, rejecting the metric system, etc etc. I don't, however, agree with the date format: day-month-year ascends very nicely. For this purpose, we will pay homage to the Old Country, and use this format. Please don't ask me about it again, ever. I will admit that month-day-year sounds classier when you say it out loud e.g. April 21st 2007 vs. 21st of April 2007. However if you're reading this, or any, blog out loud, that's just weird. Why would you do that?

The Dynanmics of Airplane Seating

For the purposes of this post, we are going to assume a standard wide-body 3 seat configuration, in coach/economy class, which is full- that means you will have (random) people sitting in every one of those tiny seats. Let's start off with the middle seat, and just get it out of the way:

- The Middle Seat- a.k.a. the 'Bitch Seat'. It sucks. It has no redeeming qualities. Avoid it like the plague. You're dealing with nuisance in stereo...essentially fighting a war on two fronts- The War of the Arm Rests. Like Napolean, Hitler, and other warmongers have aptly demonstrated, a war on two fronts is a losing cause. The middle seat sucks, capisce?

Now, lets saunter over to the crowd favorite...

- The Aisle Seat- Ah you hear them at the check-in line, "Oh can I have an aisle seat, puh-lease?". If they score one, they feel like they won a prize, or somehow using a modern-day Jedi mindtrick outsmarted the airline drone, or miraculously managed to squeeze an extra drop of value from the dry lemon that is modern airline travel. Suckers. The aisle seat is a fallacy. Let's analyze the value equation, the first attribute is:

Aisle Seat Utility1 = freedom to move about
Now let me ask you this, how often during the course of a long flight do you actually go for a walk?
"Excuse me Sir, where are you going?"
"Oh I thought I'd grab my (suddenly) mysterious toiletbag and stroll over to first class, maybe even check out the action in the cockpit"
- Cue pepper spray and one-way ticket to Gitmo
And for going to the bathroom- how often to you actually use the bathroom once a flight is in progress, once? If you need to use the bathroom multiple times, you're not optimizing my thirst-to-bladder capacity ratio (see post on Movie Rules). Also why in the name of all things holy, would you WANT to use an airplane bathroom x hours into a flight? I'm a hygiene-snob and somehow exposing any part of myself, especially vital organs/orficii, to that germ-pit just seems like a really, really bad idea. Gee, how'd I get flesh-eating bacteria that's eating my nuts? Hmmmmmmm....moron.

Aisle Seat Utility2= the infamous, Look I can stretch my leg! Weeee!
Now I'm 6'1, which is relatively tall. And I even have the obligatory gimpy bad knee (old basketball injury). I need to stretch. It is near (I wanted to use 'neigh' but I was a bit intimidated, it seemed too old english- like ye olde shoppe shop) impossible to stretch your leg for ANY (no pun intended) extended period of time with out getting poked, prodded, pushed, stepped, or generically disturbed in the aisle. Seat pegs for the row in front of you are centered in the middle. That means typically the aisle seat has DRASTICALLY reduced leg space in front. Forget stashing your bag there for easy access, where's your leg going to go? the aisle?? the signal to noise ratio is far to high.

Now, let's look at the actual COSTS:
1. Getting up because Bitch Seat, or Window needs to go to the bathroom
2. Getting up because Bitch Seat, or Window have come back from the bathroom
- now ideally they both go at the same time, however they are entitled a visit each so you can actually be expected to get up/sit down at least 4 times (2x2)
3. Seat backs have been reduced in size- it's virtually guaranteed that your shoulder will overhang. Look here comes the trolley...said trolley is about to blindside unsuspecting shoulder...unsuspecting shoulder is molested, and all you get is a deep meaningful, 'Oh sorry'. Fuckers.
4. Sleeping- forget it, you have no leaning options. You can't lean into the aisle, because of Trolley Danger.
5. Americans, generally speaking are fat- all those said Americans sitting behind you will use your aisle seat as an anchor to lift themselves out, into the aisle. Fun!
6. Seat pegs in front of you are centered in the middle. So the aisle seat has DRASTICALLY reduced leg space in front. Forget stashing your bag there for easy access, where's your leg going to go? Oh in the aisle well...

Hopefully I've clearly established that aisle costs > aisle benefits! Now granted you do have a potential benefit of maneuverability in the case of an emergency landing, but in the past 10 years think of all the people who have survived plane crashes because of their aisle seat. Exactly.

- The Window- a.k.a. The Best:
1) Clear leaning options
2) No disturbance
3) YOU control whether bitch or aisle gets disturbed!
4) They pass drinks, food, pretzels to you! No work needed!
5) You can STRETCH (use the secret corridor under the front seat's arm rest)

Final thoughts: look traveling in coach sucks. My recommendation is to fly business class (at least), especially internationally. Believe me it's worth it. If you ever wonder where have all the educated, civilized people gone? We're sitting up here in business/first class, sipping champagne, stretching our legs, and laughing at all the huddled masses sitting in coach. Suckers!

Rules for Watching Movies

1) Arrive at the theater before the previews start- it's imperative to see the previews, they are part of the cinematic experience

2) Arriving early also ensures optimal seating- preferably half way up and slightly to the left. Sitting dead-center, while popular, is a fallacy- you have no point of focus (seriously what are you supposed to look at?). Slightly to the left ensures you have a natural left-to-right point of view that we're accustomed to from reading books in western civilization.

3) All bathroom visits, food purchases etc. must be made prior to sitting down

4) There's no point in watching a movie that has already started. 5 minutes, 2 minutes, 10 minutes is irrelevant, you've missed the beginning AND you've annoyingly walked in front of people getting to your seats. Very lame. Which leads to...

5) Questions- preferably don't ask any questions during the movie- typically most, if not all, things will be explained during the course of the movie. Look everybody has questions during a movie, however, most (smart) people ask the question in their own mind, not out loud. There's no point. You're interrupting people. Destroying the movie-watching experience. Your question will be answered, just wait. If you can't figure out what's going on, well you're probably just stupid, in which case there are greater things you should be worried about rather than what x said to y. Seriously, you're fucked.

6) Don't get up to go to the bathroom, just hold it in. If it's really unbearable, then wait for a 'lull' in the movie, and get out of the aisle asap (however exercise this option only in extreme emergencies i.e. pee-pee dancing, both hands in the crotch, legs crossed can't hold it in emergencies). Or just pee in your seat, you deserve it for having minimal bladder control. And for not effectively managing your thirst-to-bladder capacity ratio.

7) Don't bring your annoying little kids to the movies- they're small, fidgety, thirsty, pee-pee, easily bored, etc etc. Just get a babysitter you cheapskate.

I just realized we need to establish a set of rules for watching movies at home...more soon nerds!

Cats vs. Dogs Part 1

In this series we will explore the fundamental (not anatomical) differences between men and women. For starters, you need to read this (for those you who have read it, I know it's an internet legend, but it's so funny/true).

New Beginnings

I've decided to restructure this blog, no longer are we discussing things like:

- money
- politics
- technology

Instead now we'll focus on the things that really matter in your everyday life:

- airplane seating
- the express lane at the grocery store
- anything I'm curious about

So enjoy!