Posted 10:04 PM by Blah blah

With all of Christine's talk of going to China and what it might be like, we should have seen this girl much earlier! Tina of volatile.org is an Asian-Caucasian girl from Vancouver who just started working in Beijing. Her observations crackle from the start and drew me in:

From "Hanoi Nights"...

We mostly rode during our favourite hours, surrounded by shimmering night landscapes. We rode down row after row of grey and shuttered shop fronts, inhaled wafts of reeking garbage at the side of the roads, and skidded down streets which were slick and glistening after being passed over by the cleaning trucks. There were the migrant workers doing the night shift as we careered by and the man, penis in hand, peeing into the street a long arc of wet splashing in front of the bia hoi stall. Along the alleys, there were women of questionable repute idling in the doorways of red-lit karaoke bars. After the dark unlit tangle of streets in the city, we would burst out onto the dusty and empty outside roads and highways, so wide and dotted with flyways - modernity! - and sickly orange lights. Later, as we sidled back to his apartment, there were the muted murmurs and occasional shouts from late-night carousers drinking beer or slurping noodles at the stand on the pavement across the street.

The beauty of nighttime in Hanoi came from the stark contrast of the in-your-face humanity of the daytime and the eerie, almost total, emptiness of the night. It felt infinitely lonely yet full of possibility, with the knowledge of a pulsing sleeping mass of people hidden behind the shuttered shop fronts. In the dark emptiness of the night, there was a sense of wild freedom, epitomized by the two boys who once screamed past us on their motorbike.

If you can tear your soul out of her vivid travels for a while, also check out her imaginative other sections, like The Kiss Project. Tina is so much fun!

She also post this report she wrote for a class on owners of personal websites, including online journals. She surveyed a bunch of us to get her results.

Chi just put up his new site. He's back. I love his design---artistic, poetic, uncluttered. Check him out!

Posted 11:43 AM by Blah blah

Charlie Rose

I always tell people I have a journalist's personality. I guess it's because I enjoy listening as much as talking. Case in point: The Charlie Rose Show on PBS, which I find continually stimulating. In Charlie's minimalist black studio, at his plain round table, you are hearing some of the best conversation on television today. Every weeknight you are coming as close as you ever will to some of the most talented, successful people of our time, in all walks of life---government, theater, science, business, writing, sports, movies, music. Having no studio audience allows Charlie's guests to do what most people on TV have no time or freedom to do: think. I mean truly think. Aloud. Charlie's biography. Another bio. More detailed bio of him.

You get to see Sylvester Stallone as someone you may not imagine---an intellectual. You see both the sadness and conviction on the face of Michael Milken, former junk bond king, as he faces his mortality and new mission in life---dealing with his prostate cancer and trying to cure it for others. You see Jim Carrey talking seriously, for a change, about how lucky he feels to have had this career, of how he can take such emotional risks on camera. You see comics like Roseanne Barr not play for laughs or the camera, talking about her humdrum life before fame. You see diplomat George Mitchell talk about what he learned about how to settle arguments, from his years of negotiating peace in N. Ireland and Bosnia. You hear Tina Brown, flamboyant former editor of the New Yorker and Vanity Fair, tell how she dealt with the failure of her venture backed by Miramax, Talk magazine. You see former basketball greats praising, like a father, their head UCLA basketball coach John Wooden and what he taught them about success. You see U.N. Secretary General Kofi Annan talk about how painful it is for him to send peacekeepers into harm's way in the world's neverending war zones. You have German musician Anne-Sophie Mutter talk about her work with conductor Herbert Von Karajan and entice you with some sexy moves on her violin.

Charlie Rose carries an incredible talent for opening people up---famous or prominent people who are normally used to being guarded and speaking OfficialSpeak. You see them as if they have just come home and are kicking up their feet on the sofa and gazing into your eyes with a drink. Your first impression of him is he is a truly nice guy. His show is also heavily focused on biography. Charlie is a master of the profile. He is always fascinated with the drama of people's journey to the top. "How did you fall in love with doing _____?" he always asks. "What drives you? What is it about you that keeps you on top, relevant?" Charlie, though always the polite Southern gentleman he is, continually throws the question back into the faces of his guests. "If you had to sum up your career, you are most proud of---what? You decided to switch gears at that point in your life...because...? You are a person who needs to have people around you. Why is that?" His show is always like this, reaching for the lessons of life, the profundity you can take home with you.

Hear successful people truly reflect on their lives. That's the signature of Charlie Rose. His show is based in Manhattan, and he invites a lot of prominent writers and humanities people. Some recent guests included the following. Listen to them on the web with RealPlayer! (If you get an error message for a link, please keep trying. As of now, all of the links below work.)

New York, February 15, 2002
Actress Judi Dench
Actress Judi Dench talks with Charlie Rose about her Academy Award nomination for best actress in Iris, her acting career and the death of her husband, actor Michael Williams. Iris is based on the life of award-winning novelist and philosopher Iris Murdoch.

New York, February 14, 2002
Floyd Norris and Newsweek's Allan Sloan
The New York Times' Floyd Norris and Newsweek's Allan Sloan talk with Charlie Rose about the collapse of Enron Corp., their reaction to congressional testimony by Enron's Sherron Watkins and public perception of corporate accounting practices.

New York, February 8, 2002
Actor Bruce Willis
Actor Bruce Willis talks with Charlie Rose about his role in the television show Moonlighting his relationship with former wife Demi Moore and the making of the movie Bandits which is scheduled to open on Feb. 15.

New York, February 6, 2002
James Carville and Paul Begala
Political strategists James Carville and Paul Begala talk with Charlie Rose about former president Bill Clinton, Enron Corp. and the Bush administration, and their book Buck Up, Suck Up...and Come Back When You Foul Up.

New York, February 5, 2002
New York Times' Floyd Norris
Floyd Norris, chief financial correspondent at the New York Times, talks with Charlie Rose about his views on the impact of Enron Corp.'s collapse on corporate America, what questions were not asked about accounting practices, and the role of Arthur Andersen LLP in the company's bankruptcy.

New York, February 5, 2002
Sen. Dorgan About Enron and Lay
Senator Byron Dorgan, a North Dakota Democrat, talks with Charlie Rose via satellite about the subpoena served on former Enron Corp. Chairman Kenneth Lay to force him to testify next week before the Senate Commerce Committee and the goals of congressional hearings on the Enron collapse.

New York, February 4, 2002
Interviews Israel's Shimon Peres
Israeli Foreign Minister Shimon Peres talks with Charlie Rose about his informal talks with the Palestinians, his view of the structure needed to facilitate the peace process and Yasser Arafat's inability to stop Palestinian terrorists.

New York. Jan 24, 2002
Actress Kate Winslet
Actress Kate Winslet talks with Charlie Rose about her role in the new film Iris and her acting career. Winslet plays the young award-winning novelist Iris Murdoch before her decline into Alzheimer's disease.

New York. Jan 23, 2002
Former Disney President Ovitz
Michael Ovitz, founder of Artists Management Group, a Hollywood talent agency, talks with Charlie Rose about his professional career, his experience as president of the Walt Disney Co., and public perceptions of his personal character.

New York. Jan 22, 2002
Vivendi CEO Jean-Marie Messier
Jean-Marie Messier, chief executive of Vivendi Universal SA, talks with Charlie Rose about Messier's strategy for Vivendi's growth and expansion, Vivendi's media content and distribution, and the outlook for media industry consolidation.

New York. Jan 21, 2002
Nets' Byron Scott, Jason Kidd
New Jersey Nets head coach Byron Scott and guard Jason Kidd talk with Charlie Rose about the team's success, Kidd's play and his approach to basketball. Kidd is averaging 13.8 points and 10.1 assists this season, and New Jersey is in first place in the Atlantic Division.

New York. Jan 17, 2002
Author Elie Wiesel on Terrorism
Nobel Peace Prize winner and author Elie Wiesel talks with Charlie Rose about his new book Conversations With Elie Wiesel, his views on terrorism and the death penalty, and surviving the Holocaust.

New York. Jan 17, 2002
Gossip Columnist Liz Smith
Liz Smith, syndicated New York Post gossip columnist, talks with Charlie Rose about her career as a writer, the impact of the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks on the world of gossip and her writing style, and her appreciation of journalism in America today.

New York. Jan 16, 2002
Newsweek's Lorch on Afghanistan
Donatella Lorch, Washington correspondent for Newsweek magazine, talks with Charlie Rose via satellite about her recent trip with U.S. special forces troops to Afghanistan, her attraction to covering wars around the world and the outlook for the Taliban.

New York. Jan 15, 2002
Treasury Secretary Paul O'Neill
U.S. Treasury Secretary Paul O'Neill talks with Charlie Rose about the Treasury Department's handling of the demise of Enron Corp., Congress's handling of the federal economic stimulus bill and the criticism that has followed his public service tenure.

New York. Jan 14, 2002
Filmmaker Ridley Scott
Filmmaker Ridley Scott talks with Charlie Rose about his new film Black Hawk Down, the significance of U.S. military action in Somalia and the challenges of producing such a film. Scott is the director of Gladiator, Thelma & Louise, Blade Runner and Hannibal.

New York. Jan 9, 2002
NBC's Katie Couric, Matt Lauer
Katie Couric and Matt Lauer, co-anchors of the NBC television network's Today show, talk with Charlie Rose about working on Today, how morning television shows handle news, and the chemistry between them.

New York. Jan 8, 2002
U.S. Foreign Policy Expert Mead
Walter Russell Mead, a senior fellow for U.S. foreign policy at the Council on Foreign Relations, talks with Charlie Rose about his new book Special Providence: American Foreign Policy and How It Changed the World, U.S. foreign policy, and U.S. relations with Russia, China, Saudi Arabia and Iran.

New York. Dec. 26, 2001
Actress Michelle Pfeiffer
Actress Michelle Pfeiffer talks with Charlie Rose about her personality traits, career development and role as an attorney in the new film I Am Sam. The movie co-stars Sean Penn as a mentally challenged father.

New York. Dec 26, 2001
AIG's Chairman Hank Greenberg
Maurice "Hank" Greenberg, chairman and chief executive of American International Group Inc. (AIG), talks with Charlie Rose about the impact of the Sept. 11 attacks on the insurance industry and the need for regulatory changes allowing the U.S. government to share future losses from terrorist attacks.

New York. Dec 21, 2001
Author Michael Steinhardt
Michael Steinhardt, a former hedge-fund manager and author of No Bull: My Life In and Out of Markets, talks with Charlie Rose about his career, decision to retire and goal of preserving Jewish-based values and culture.

New York. Dec 20, 2001
World Economic Forum's Schwab
Klaus Schwab, president and founder of the World Economic Forum (WEF), talks with Charlie Rose about the decision to move the WEF from Davos, Switzerland, to New York City next year. The annual conference of international political and business leaders will be held Jan. 31 to Feb. 4, 2002.

New York, Dec. 11, 2001
NY Times Publisher Sulzberger
Arthur Sulzberger Jr., chairman of New York Times Co. and publisher of the New York Times, talks with Charlie Rose about the "mission" of the newspaper and its response to the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks. The New York Times celebrated its 150th anniversary this year.

New York, Dec. 5, 2001
Writer Auletta on AOL's Levin
Author and journalist Ken Auletta talks with Charlie Rose about Gerald Levin's decision to retire in May as chief executive of AOL Time Warner Inc. and the company's choice of co-chief operating officer Richard parsons to replace him.

New York, Dec. 4, 2001
Israel's Ehud Barak
Former Israeli Prime Minister Ehud Barak talks with Charlie Rose about Israel's air strikes against Palestinian targets in the West Bank and Gaza Strip following a number of suicide bombings in Israel and his view of Palestinian leader Yasser Arafat's response to the attacks.

New York, Dec. 4, 2001
Former President Jimmy Carter
Former U.S. President Jimmy Carter talks with Charlie Rose about his latest book, Christmas in Plains, the Iran hostage crisis of 1980 and the main issues in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.

New York, Dec. 3, 2001
Tom Cruise and Cameron Crowe
Actor Tom Cruise and film director Cameron Crowe talk with Charlie Rose about their new film Vanilla Sky, which is An American adaptation of Alejandro Amenabar's 1997 Spanish film Abre Los Ojos. Crowe and Cruise also worked together on Jerry Maguire.

New York, November 19, 2001
Senator George Mitchell
Former U.S. Senator George Mitchell talks with Charlie Rose about U.S. Secretary of State Colin Powell's speech on U.S.-Middle East relations, the conflict between Israelis and Palestinians and conditions necessary for a cease-fire to last in the region.

New York, Nov. 15, 2001
Intel's Andrew Grove
Andrew Grove, chairman and co-founder of Intel Corp., talks with Charlie Rose about his book Swimming Across: A Memoir, the trauma of his past and his success. Grove was born in Budapest, Hungary and narrowly escaped the Holocaust.
_________________________
Here is part of a transcript of Charlie's interview with David Letterman (2/16/1996). As usual, the guest shows a side of himself we are not used to seeing, and the show is riveting and revealing:

Rose: Do you enjoy the interviews?

Letterman: Some of them I do. Some of them I actually do. If there is some kind of legitimate interchange, some kind of legitimate exchange, yeah, sometimes I really do, I get a kick out of them. If somebody says or does something that genuinely makes me laugh, I just think, this is great, you know, I get paid a lot of money and somebody is actually entertaining me, so that's fun.

Rose: Somebody said to me today -- we were talking about what you do and what I do is a very different spectrum -- they said, "When somebody comes on David's show, they are expected to perform."

Letterman: That's right.

Rose: "And when someone comes on your show, what you want to do is for them not to perform so you can find out who they are."

Letterman: Yeah, probably so, and maybe that actually works against us a bit, because we have found that people in show business are hugely successful people. Some of them don't get that this is an opportunity for them to demonstrate why people should spend money on their movies, why people should buy their records, why people should watch them on television. Some of these people seem to be oblivious to that. Some nights I want to get out the sphygmomanometer and see, "Let's see if there's a pulse. Let's see if there's blood in the veins," because I can't begin to tell you the number of times somebody has just taken the opportunity to come out and have about a 12-minute nap on the air, and I just think, well, now, wait a minute here. Are we both in show business here?

Rose: Go to commercial.

Letterman: Well, we do, and sometimes I get a little ragged with them, and then people say, (gay accent) "Oh, he's mean. He's being mean again," but then you have people like Bill Murray, like Steve Martin, like Tom Hanks, like Bruce Willis, Demi Moore. There's about a dozen of these people, top stars who really get it.

Rose: They understand what is expected of them.

Letterman: Sure, and Tom Hanks comes on like a first-time comedian, and he works on it and works on it and works on it. We have a piece on the prime time show that we did with Steve Martin. He had a play in production and a play opening the week he was with us. He came in three days in a row to pretape this for us and came in the morning of his appearance to work on this piece, and he's always been like that, and Bill Murray has always been like that and Bruce Willis has always been like that, and I just wish, you know, everybody -- and even when I used to be on The Tonight Show, I would spend six, eight weeks making sure, because what you wanted to do was make Johnny laugh. You didn't want to come out there and just sort of, you know, all of a sudden Johnny's talking to Ed. You don't want that happening....

Rose: Celebrity doesn't mean a damn to you, and in fact it's a distraction.

Letterman: The first thing that kind of got my attention years and years ago when I was first on the Tonight Show, I recognized almost immediately that people, strangers in all walks of life that I would come in contact with were friendlier to me, friendly, nice, considerate and behaved kind of the way you think people behave to people, but it was a dramatic change, and it was literally overnight, and it has been that way ever since. That part of it I just think is wonderful, because instead of being part of just a faceless group of people struggling with and against one another, it invokes again some humanity. People are nice to me, I'm nice to them, and sadly, I don't think real life is like that, and this is to me the great benefit and luxury of being well-known.

So I enjoy it, I try not to abuse it, and I do my best to be nice to people who are always nice to me, and I count myself really being lucky for that, because I can remember, and I think everybody who is not fortunate enough to be well-known understands what this struggle is, you know, people for no good reason sometimes just go out of their way to make your life unpleasant, but that all changed about 20 years ago, and I just think, man, if this was really the world, that would just be keen, wouldn't it?

Rose: We could all be celebrities.

Letterman: Everybody happy, everybody nice. "Nice to see you." "Well, nice to see you." And it's contagious. When they're nice to you, you're just nice back to them.

Rose: One of the great things, in addition to that about being a broadcaster, is you get to see your work product every night.

Letterman: Right.

Rose: Think of the people who work every day who don't get a chance to see -- I mean, you build every day to 5:30. I build every day to 6:00 o'clock.

Letterman: That's right, that's right.

Rose: I tape 30 minutes later than you do, and you get to see that night what you have crafted that day.

Letterman: But there are many other pursuits in the world that are like that. I have always kind of likened our operation to a small restaurant. You come in; you go to the market; you see what's available; you see what's fresh, you put it together; you get a menu, and then you can see if people like it, and then the next day you look through the cash receipts and you know how you did. So it's not unique, but it is satisfying, very satisfying.

Rose: They also say about you that you are enormously self-critical, that when things don't go right, you don't blame anybody but Dave.

Letterman: Well, that's being generous. Sometimes I --

Rose: That you're impossible to live with but --

Letterman: Ultimately I accept the responsibility for everything that goes wrong, and it's like a guy driving a race car, you know, they build the car, they put the engine in it, they tune it, they fine tune it, they adjust the aerodynamics, they adjust the fuel flow or whatever, and then I go out there and put it in the wall. I mean, every day I'm given the elements of a great car, and some days, because I'm human, I just stack it up, and there's nothing more discouraging than --

Rose: Stack it up against a wall.

Letterman: Exactly, and knowing that this staff of 50 or 60 people have done their best every day, and then they put me in the damn car, and, oh my gosh, he's tapped the wall in turn four. So I feel like I'm responsible, and I should be responsible. My name's on the credits. I get the big paychecks. It's me, I can take it, and I screw it up more than anybody else in the production.

Posted 8:27 PM by Blah blah

Moment of silence. I feel sad. Sorry for Mr. Pearl's wife and friends. He sounds like such a fantastic and talented guy. And I grieve with his Wall St. Journal colleagues. This must have been especially gut-wrenching to write. Here's a series of stories on Mr. Pearl, chronicling the tragedy, from the South Asian Journalists Association. Here's a selection of Mr. Pearl's articles for the front page of the newspaper.

Reporter Daniel Pearl Is Dead, Killed by His Captors in Pakistan (Wall St. Journal):
______________________
The abduction and death mean the Journal has lost one of its premier foreign correspondents, who was noted for his lively eye for detail and his gift for explaining the human side of complex international problems. Paradoxically, though he appears to have suffered at the hands of Islamic militants angry at the West, he was particularly sensitive to sentiments in the Islamic world and committed to explaining them to his readers in the West....

"A musician, a writer, a storyteller and a bridge-builder, he was a walking sunshine of truth, humor, friendship and compassion. We grieve with the many who have known him in his life and we weep for a world that must reckon with his death."...

Mr. Pearl was a 12-year veteran of the Journal, working in Atlanta, Washington, London and Paris before moving to Bombay to cover South Asia two years ago. For much of the last six years of his journalistic life, he dedicated himself to explaining the Arab and Islamic worlds to Wall Street Journal readers.

Born in Princeton, N.J., Mr. Pearl graduated in 1985 from Stanford University. Before joining the Journal in 1990, Mr. Pearl worked for several newspapers in Massachusetts, once winning an American Planning Association Award for a five-part series on land use.

A skeptic of all institutions, from big government to big business, Mr. Pearl often seemed as much at home with his violin, playing bluegrass music, as he was filing stories as a top reporter at a newspaper.

He was always a music man, from classical to blues to country to bluegrass to rock 'n' roll. As lead violinist in an Atlanta band called The Ottoman Empire, Mr. Pearl received the thrill of his musical life in 1993 when his band opened for The Kinks at an Atlanta club. His music collection stretched from rhythm and blues musicians like Curtis Mayfield and Bobby Womack to salsa musicians like La India.

Mr. Pearl tended to pick up strays. At dinner parties in London, where he lived for three years, Mr. Pearl was known for last-minute phone calls to hosts, asking if he could bring additional guests. One year, he invited some people he met on the subway to the staff Thanksgiving dinner. "One thing about Danny: You invite him for dinner, you buy for 10 people," says Tom Jennings, a longtime friend. Mr. Jennings, a freelance journalist in New York, also recalls: "This was the man who wrote a song for my son days before his birth, encouraging him into the world. The song was called, 'The World Is Not a Bad Place.'"

He liked to cook. While working in the Atlanta bureau, Mr. Pearl received a bread maker from his mother for his birthday. For two years after that, he experimented with sometimes outlandish recipes. Another favored dish was stuffed grape leaves, which he trotted out when friends came to cry on his shoulder or to look for counsel or comfort.

He liked to shop, sometimes spending hours trolling offbeat shops in London's Covent Garden for the perfect orange shirt -- though he often walked around the Journal offices without shoes. Mr. Pearl, who attracted women by the droves, met Mariane at a party in Paris in 1998, and immediately announced that he had fallen in love.

The two were married in August 1999. They originally planned to get married in September but pushed up the date because Mariane's mother was dying of cancer. She held herself upright to walk her daughter down the aisle but was too sick to sit through the wedding reception. So it was from an upstairs window that she listened as her new son-in-law played Bach for her from below.

In Mr. Pearl, the Journal found the perfect reporter: highly individual, a skeptic, but one with an engaged eye and an open mind for stories big and small. In the Atlanta office, where he started his Journal career, he quickly showed he was a natural at spotting the quirky story. In February 1993, he got a story on the front page about a nine-year-old beauty queen who got stripped of her crown for singing Billy Ray Cyrus's "Achy-Breaky Heart" at two dueling pageants. "She cannot perform as Little Miss Bookcase on Saturday, then Little Miss Georgia on Sunday," Mr. Pearl quoted one pageant executive as saying....

Beloved by his colleagues at the Journal, Mr. Pearl's sense of humor reared at odd times. During a friendly turf battle over a Pakistan trade story that a colleague in the Washington bureau was writing, Mr. Pearl kept quiet until after the story appeared in the paper. The day it appeared, his colleague wrote to apologize for not consulting him on the story first. Mr. Pearl replied with the following e-mail: "grumble. grumble, grumble. grumble grumble." He added that he actually owed the reporter an apology for not alerting her to a previous story.

The e-mail continued, "Okay, clean slate, but let me say this: I'm going to Pakistan Saturday, and from that point on, anybody who types the word Pakistan, Pakistani, Paki, Pak, Coldpak or Backpak without consulting me stands NO CHANCE AT ALL of getting illicit Cipro."

It was signed, "Danny."
______________________
The main suspect in Mr. Pearl's kidnapping was arrested on Tuesday in Lahore, Pakistan. He is Sheik Omar Saeed. The FBI is exploring leads that Saeed could have been involved in the transfer of $100,000 to Mohammad Atta, one of the hijackers in the September 11 attacks. In 1994, Saeed was in prison and wrote a 35 page diary. Here are excerpts: 1) Diary of a Terrorist, from Harper's magazine. 2) The Indian Express.

By Trevor Matthews, a journalist for The Guardian: Daniel Pearl's kidnapper nearly got me too.

Posted 2:28 AM by Blah blah

Chemist pursues new chapter: Father of birth control pill devotes himself to writing (San Jose Mercury News):

To end his 42-year career at Stanford University, Carl Djerassi -- the noted chemist who helped develop the birth-control pill -- stood before 200 students Tuesday and pretended to be someone else.

Specifically, he inhabited the role of Felix Frankenthaler, a reproductive pioneer engaged in a testy interview about the ethics of allowing previously infertile people to procreate.

The play/lecture was an unconventional swan song but a tidy segue to the next chapter in Djerassi's life. The man with a Viennese accent and pronounced limp once thought he would be the ``Strom Thurmond of academia,'' but at age 78, Djerassi has decided to devote more time to his other profession, writing memoirs, novels and plays....

Djerassi -- who has written two memoirs and five novels in addition to the plays -- has been trying to marry literature and science. At Stanford, he has taught ethical discourse through science and fiction, and a writing course where students bring science-based manuscripts.

Djerassi said there's not much he'll miss at Stanford. Scientists focus on their next experiment, he explained, and his is writing.

With his books and novels spread before him, he admits it can be frustrating for a successful person to start a new career. His scientific colleagues think he's dabbling in fluff; writers, already frustrated about how science is dominating the culture, see him as an interloper.

``It's not a supportive thing on either side,'' he said.

But he plans to keep going. His plays have been well-received, especially in Europe. Besides, he believes there's a place for didactic art (``didactic'' and ``pedagogy'' pepper Djerassi's speeches), showing his continued commitment to teaching. He wants to ``teach and amuse at the same time,'' he said.

``If you can,'' he said, ``I think it's a hell of a lot better than to just amuse.''

Hypothermia Helps Avert Brain Damage if Heart Stops (Reuters):

Lowering the body temperature of a heart attack victim once the heart has been restarted can dramatically reduce the risk of subsequent death and brain damage, researchers from Europe and Australia reported in Thursday's New England Journal of Medicine.

In separate studies, the scientists found that reducing the temperature to 91 degrees Fahrenheit for at least 12 hours increased the chances of survival in patients whose hearts had stopped for at least 5 minutes, and often far longer. Brain cells usually start to die after four or five minutes without oxygen. Normal body temperature is 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit.

The findings suggest the technique could save thousands of heart attack patients around the world from death or brain damage each year, researchers said.

Although further research is needed, "we recommend the use of mild hypothermia in survivors of cardiac arrests -- as early as possible and for at least 12 hours," said Drs. Peter Safar and Patrick Kochanek of the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center, in an editorial in the Journal....

In the larger test, led by Dr. Michael Holzer of the University Clinic for Emergency Medicine in Vienna, Austria, 275 patients at nine medical centers in five countries were either cooled for 24 hours or kept at normal temperature. In each case, at least five minutes -- but no more than 15 minutes -- had passed before resuscitation efforts were begun, and a normal heartbeat was restored within 60 minutes.

After six months, 41 percent in the hypothermia group had died compared to 55 percent of the patients whose bodies were kept at normal levels.

In addition, the likelihood of having a good recovery or only moderate disability was 55 percent among the people whose bodies were cooled, versus 39 percent for those who did not receive the hypothermia treatment....

Preliminary results from the group's follow-up study suggest infusing a patient with large volumes of ice cold saline solution may be even more effective at preventing brain damage than using ice packs.

Posted 7:26 PM by Blah blah

One more thing. Last night my phone rang, and it was a guy asking me to switch to Sprint long distance phone service. As usual, I started gushing about how happy I am with my current long distance/international phone service. "When you call them you always get a human being on the line! Do you know HOW cheap the rate is to...? Blah blah..." Instead of saying thank you and bye, the man started asking questions. "Hey, maybe I should look into your service," he said. "What's their #?" "Yeah man," I said. "You know this must be good, because they aren't even paying me to say this."

I was blown away. It was the first time I have been rung by a telemarketer and ended up selling HIM something!!! (To keep their small atmosphere and excellent customer service, I'm not gonna say what carrier it is here. If interested, just email me.)

I am very determined this week. It has been pure hell. One of the most exhausting weeks I have ever had. I stayed up till 3 am this morning, slept two hours, and have been up since 5 am. Had my first (and only?) meal of the day at 5 pm. It feels like two weeks has gone by, but it's only Wednesday! Arrgh. Typing this amidst bone-crushing fatigue.... Now I'm gonna collapse. See ya next week maybe.

Posted 1:14 AM by Blah blah

Web wife jilted on the auction block (The Register). This is just too weird. Background info. Her online auction entry: Kay Hammond, Internet Entrepreneur, Looking for a Husband.

The odds are against stock pickers (CBS MarketWatch):

Millions of investors think they, or somebody they hire, can successfully pick individual stocks.

But this is a challenge that eludes even the best and brightest of investors -- for reasons that aren't hard to find.

Q. I keep reading about how great index funds are, but I know people who've beaten the market year after year by picking good stocks. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to find great companies, invest in them and then hang on for the long term. Why don't you and other advisers admit that index funds are only average?

It's inevitable that every year some stock pickers will beat the market. That's a matter of random events, otherwise known as luck. But it's rare to find anybody, including professionals, who can beat the market year after year.

Only one mutual fund manager has beaten the Standard & Poor's 500 Index every year since 1990: Bill Miller at Legg Mason Value Trust. Even Miller, one of the best stock pickers of our time, lost money in his fund in 2000 and 2001. And he lagged 95 percent of other value funds in 2000 and was beaten by 74 percent of them in 2001.

Most mutual fund managers are highly compensated, highly motivated and backed by highly trained research staffs. These people are clearly some of the best brains in the country. You'd think they could succeed by picking the best companies and holding them.

But if it were that easy, everybody would do it. Why isn't it that easy?

Changes that can't be predicted are now common in American business. In 1957, there were 500 stocks in the Standard & Poor's 500 Index. Forty years later, in 1997, only 74 of those companies were still in the index. The rest are gone. Some were merged into other companies, but many just couldn't keep up with the rapid pace of change and were shoved aside by newer competitors.

Now imagine that in 1957 you had somehow been smart enough to pick the 74 surviving companies and invested in them. Your results would have been disappointing: You would have underperformed the index by more than 20 percent, according to Richard Foster and Sarah Kaplan in their book, Creative Destruction.

Why? Perhaps it's the luck of the draw. Of those 74 companies only a dozen outperformed the index from 1957 through 1998, according to these authors. That's 12 companies out of 500, or 2.4 percent of the total, that were above average for 42 years.

That, of course, is the past. Before these two business experts published their book last year, they looked into the future with a huge amount of knowledge and insight that wasn't available in 1957. Their book focuses on "companies that are built to last." So their ideas might be useful to anybody trying to pick stocks today that will stand the test of time.

Early in the book, Foster and Kaplan state that "no more than a third of today's major corporations will survive in an economically important way over the next 25 years." Those survivors, they say, will have to be masters at re-creating themselves and their businesses.

"Never again will American business be as it once was. The rules have changed forever," they wrote. "Some companies have made the crossing." The authors then cite four U.S. companies as examples of the new leaders: General Electric, Johnson & Johnson, Corning and Enron.

Enron? Yes, Enron.

The company that's now the center of one of the largest corporate scandals in U.S. history "has made strong progress by transforming itself from a natural gas pipeline company to a trading company," the authors wrote. Of the four companies, they said, "These are the exceptions. Few have attempted the journey. Fewer still have made it to the other side successfully."

This is not meant to pick on these authors. In fact, quite the contrary: They were working from the best information and insights they had. And in less than a year, one of their prime examples makes them look silly. The point is that picking tomorrow's business winners is tougher than it seems, even with all the time and resources of experts writing a book.

Investors who try to pick the best long-term investments run the risk of falling into the exact same trap.

Investors can try to overcome this problem in many possible ways. The most common way is to try to pick the smartest stock pickers. But just as today's most promising stock can become an embarrassment, today's smartest stock-picking guru is likely to become tomorrow's average manager.

But the best way to overcome this problem is to accept the constantly changing nature of the business world. It's easy and inexpensive to let the market itself do the work. The vehicle is a Standard & Poor's 500 Index fund, the biggest of which is Vanguard 500 Index Fund.

In the case of Enron, the index automatically protected investors through a very basic technique: diversification. Even when it was the third-largest company in the index, Enron made up less than 2 percent of the portfolio.

Some people think the S&P 500 Index is only "average." But of the thousands of mutual funds in business, only one has beaten that index in each of the past 12 calendar years. That certainly makes the index good enough for me.

Posted 6:37 PM by Blah blah

Check out Neemanet.com---another Renaissance man's homepage. Fascinating. Neema posted pix of his travels around the world for eight months between Oct. 2000 and May 2001.

Was talking to Rose about favorite foods. My mom is an excellent cook. A while back, I'd asked her to tell me the secrets behind some of her outstanding creations, which I wrote in a notepad. Here's my all-time favorite food she makes! I swear...I kill for this.

Sweet Rice with Chicken (Giam Bung, copyright by Mom)

- 5-6 cups glutinous (sweet) rice
- 1 chicken, cut into large chunks
or boneless thigh, 4 pieces, cubed
- dried mushrooms (get the big, ear shaped black kind...not button mushrooms)
- dried shrimp
- soy sauce
- salt
- sesame oil
- garlic, ginger (2 slices, shredded)
- black-eyed beans


Soak beans in water at least 3 hours, until skin is enlarged. Soak mushrooms and shrimp in water 1 hour. Slice mushrooms in long strips (Julian). Save mushroom and shrimp soaking water.

Heat vegetable oil in saucepan. Saute w/ garlic and ginger. Add chicken. After a little cooking, add shrimp and mushrooms. After some cooking, add beans. Later add soaking water (shrimp & mushroom), soy sauce, and salt.

Put raw sweet rice in rice cooker (preferably one that allows water around the inside container). First, barely cover rice w/ water. Add all the cooked chicken, etc. onto rice. Put about 2 cups water around, inside container. (Allows greater heat and steam.) Cook everything.

When done, mix all with sesame oil.

You may also cook in a wok at high temperature. I'm not sure if you just cook the rice separately and add it to the chicken in the wok. But I love it when the rice at the bottom is slightly burnt and crispy!

Serves only one. ME!

Do any of you have suggestions or your own sweet/sticky rice recipes? It's like the rice you usually see for dim sum, wrapped in a banana leaf. I can't get enough of it!

Posted 9:24 PM by Blah blah

Life is just rushing by. Sorry, guys, I don't have time to write anything. Please come back in about a week. Of course, you may always call or email me!

Ok, it's back to the treadmill. Have a more relaxing week than I...

Posted 4:56 PM by Blah blah

"Pretty Boy," the pretty song I got on Valentine's, looks Asian but is actually by a couple of Norwegian teenaged girls---a group called M2M (Marion and Marit). Talented, multilingual, and beautiful. They even sang their song in both English and Mandarin!

My God. Yesterday, another online marriage proposal. This time on a message board of Slashdot, the big computer geek news page. "Kathleen, I wanted to do this in this most potentially embarassing way possible, and I figured doing it here and now, in front of a quarter of a million strangers was as good a way as any...." Well the geeks rule!

Have a wonderful weekend, everybody!

Posted 11:00 AM by Blah blah

Do you use Yahoo Messenger? Here are some really weird and secret smileys I have never seen!

Hmmm... Annie, this Taiwanese girl I met at her party two weeks ago, was asking if I knew anyone who wanted to model for a fashion show in April. She and my dormmate from college, Huang, are starting this big, primarily Asian social group in SF called Serendipity. This Sunday she will be having modelling tryouts in SF. She has a relationship with the restaurant/club sponsoring the events, Venture Frogs. She has the clothing designers lined up already but needs to find people to put into those clothes! So if you are interested, please let her know or email your picture to her.

Sam sent me the link to pictures of some of the kids in his youth group in Toronto. He's one of the adult leaders. Snow camp!

Talking More but Enjoying It Less (NY Times): "The number of wireless subscribers in the United States has more than doubled since 1998, to some 130 million today, as new customers are lured by offers of free long-distance service and inexpensive phones. Cellphone subscribers are also talking more than ever before, thanks to so-called bucket plans that include thousands of free minutes of use every month. Subscribers use their cellphones an average of 422 minutes a month, an increase of 75 percent from 242 two years ago.

All that talking is taxing the capacity of the country's wireless system. Cellphone companies have been unable to build enough new cell towers or squeeze the capacity they need out of existing ones. As a result, subscribers complain of disconnected calls or busy signals caused by overloading of the networks. Others are frustrated when roaming charges appear on their bills because the signal proved weak in their local service areas or for calls within areas included on those colorful coverage maps. Some customers say they are tired of waiting so long for voice-mail messages from missed calls.

No wireless provider in the country is free of complaints about service. For every satisfied customer, it seems, there is a horror story. About 15 percent of wireless customers have switched providers in the last 12 months, nearly double the level of four years ago, J. D. Power said. Many subscribers have given up trying to resolve problems with the cellphone companies and have taken their grievances to the F.C.C. or a state attorney general's office. A few have filed lawsuits seeking refunds."

Posted 6:26 PM by Blah blah

Dolly sent me this Valentine's song. So sweet!

Posted 9:22 AM by Blah blah

Love

TO ALL OF YOU who so faithfully come to this page,
To you who are weary after the frustrations of the day,
To you who are lost and seeking an ear...a flame...a wink,

To those who know me and those who do not
but still will treat me for dinner,

To those who could care less whether they are with someone
and to those who do,

To those who drink milk from a glass
and to those who drink it directly from the carton,

This is for you, and you, and YOU!!!

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY, everyone!

From Emerson's essay on "Love":

But here is a strange fact; it may seem to many men, in revising their experience, that they have no fairer page in their life's book than the delicious memory of some passages wherein affection contrived to give a witchcraft surpassing the deep attraction of its own truth to a parcel of accidental and trivial circumstances. In looking backward, they may find that several things which were not the charm have more reality to this groping memory than the charm itself which embalmed them. But be our experience in particulars what it may, no man ever forgot the visitations of that power to his heart and brain, which created all things new; which was the dawn in him of music, poetry, and art; which made the face of nature radiant with purple light, the morning and the night varied enchantments; when a single tone of one voice could make the heart bound, and the most trivial circumstance associated with one form is put in the amber of memory; when he became all eye when one was present, and all memory when one was gone; when the youth becomes a watcher of windows, and studious of a glove, a veil, a ribbon, or the wheels of a carriage; when no place is too solitary, and none too silent, for him who has richer company and sweeter conversation in his new thoughts, than any old friends, though best and purest, can give him; for the figures, the motions, the words of the beloved object are not like other images written in water, but, as Plutarch said, "enamelled in fire," and make the study of midnight.

"Thou art not gone being gone, where'er thou art,
Thou leav'st in him thy watchful eyes, in him thy loving heart."

In the noon and the afternoon of life we still throb at the recollection of days when happiness was not happy enough, but must be drugged with the relish of pain and fear; for he touched the secret of the matter, who said of love, —

"All other pleasures are not worth its pains";

and when the day was not long enough, but the night, too, must be consumed in keen recollections; when the head boiled all night on the pillow with the generous deed it resolved on; when the moonlight was a pleasing fever, and the stars were letters, and the flowers ciphers, and the air was coined into song; when all business seemed an impertinence, and all the men and women running to and fro in the streets, mere pictures.

The passion rebuilds the world for the youth. It makes all things alive and significant. Nature grows conscious. Every bird on the boughs of the tree sings now to his heart and soul. The notes are almost articulate. The clouds have faces as he looks on them. The trees of the forest, the waving grass, and the peeping flowers have grown intelligent; and he almost fears to trust them with the secret which they seem to invite. Yet nature soothes and sympathizes. In the green solitude he finds a dearer home than with men....

Beauty, whose revelation to man we now celebrate, welcome as the sun wherever it pleases to shine, which pleases everybody with it and with themselves, seems sufficient to itself. The lover cannot paint his maiden to his fancy poor and solitary. Like a tree in flower, so much soft, budding, informing love-liness is society for itself, and she teaches his eye why Beauty was pictured with Loves and Graces attending her steps. Her existence makes the world rich. Though she extrudes all other persons from his attention as cheap and unworthy, she indemnifies him by carrying out her own being into somewhat impersonal, large, mundane, so that the maiden stands to him for a representative of all select things and virtues. For that reason, the lover never sees personal resemblances in his mistress to her kindred or to others. His friends find in her a likeness to her mother, or her sisters, or to persons not of her blood. The lover sees no resemblance except to summer evenings and diamond mornings, to rainbows and the song of birds....

If, however, from too much conversing with material objects, the soul was gross, and misplaced its satisfaction in the body, it reaped nothing but sorrow; body being unable to fulfil the promise which beauty holds out; but if, accepting the hint of these visions and suggestions which beauty makes to his mind, the soul passes through the body, and falls to admire strokes of character, and the lovers contemplate one another in their discourses and their actions, then they pass to the true palace of beauty, more and more inflame their love of it, and by this love extinguishing the base affection, as the sun puts out the fire by shining on the hearth, they become pure and hallowed. By conversation with that which is in itself excellent, magnanimous, lowly, and just, the lover comes to a warmer love of these nobilities, and a quicker apprehension of them. Then he passes from loving them in one to loving them in all, and so is the one beautiful soul only the door through which he enters to the society of all true and pure souls. In the particular society of his mate, he attains a clearer sight of any spot, any taint, which her beauty has contracted from this world, and is able to point it out, and this with mutual joy that they are now able, without offence, to indicate blemishes and hindrances in each other, and give to each all help and comfort in curing the same. And, beholding in many souls the traits of the divine beauty, and separating in each soul that which is divine from the taint which it has contracted in the world, the lover ascends to the highest beauty, to the love and knowledge of the Divinity, by steps on this ladder of created souls.

Somewhat like this have the truly wise told us of love in all ages. The doctrine is not old, nor is it new. If Plato, Plutarch, and Apuleius taught it, so have Petrarch, Angelo, and Milton. It awaits a truer unfolding in opposition and rebuke to that subterranean prudence which presides at marriages with words that take hold of the upper world, whilst one eye is prowling in the cellar, so that its gravest discourse has a savor of hams and powdering-tubs. Worst, when this sensualism intrudes into the education of young women, and withers the hope and affection of human nature, by teaching that marriage signifies nothing but a housewife's thrift, and that woman's life has no other aim....

Their once flaming regard is sobered by time in either breast, and, losing in violence what it gains in extent, it becomes a thorough good understanding. They resign each other, without complaint, to the good offices which man and woman are severally appointed to discharge in time, and exchange the passion which once could not lose sight of its object, for a cheerful, disengaged furtherance, whether present or absent, of each other's designs. At last they discover that all which at first drew them together,— those once sacred features, that magical play of charms, — was deciduous, had a prospective end, like the scaffolding by which the house was built; and the purification of the intellect and the heart, from year to year, is the real marriage, foreseen and prepared from the first, and wholly above their consciousness....

We are by nature observers, and thereby learners. That is our permanent state. But we are often made to feel that our affections are but tents of a night. Though slowly and with pain, the objects of the affections change, as the objects of thought do. There are moments when the affections rule and absorb the man, and make his happiness dependent on a person or persons. But in health the mind is presently seen again, — its overarching vault, bright with galaxies of immutable lights, and the warm loves and fears that swept over us as clouds, must lose their finite character and blend with God, to attain their own perfection. But we need not fear that we can lose any thing by the progress of the soul. The soul may be trusted to the end. That which is so beautiful and attractive as these relations must be succeeded and supplanted only by what is more beautiful, and so on for ever.

Posted 3:31 PM by Blah blah

My gosh, look at this! Marriage proposal in a blog comment section.

"I REPEAT: MY MOM DOESN'T KNOW ABOUT THIS YET. So we can't tell you when (but we do, indeed, know when). Once we tell my mom, then we can tell y'all.
Posted by dooce at February 6, 2002 11:03 AM

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The moms will be told this evening. Followed by about 7 martinis. Heather, I love you.
Posted by dj blurb at February 6, 2002 11:07 AM"

Posted 12:08 PM by Blah blah

Sex and Food. Cheshire Dave.

Note, guys, this woman's husband was a "famous journalist." Maybe in the future they'll say "Naomi Numbobs, wife of famous blogger Raymond Roastbeef, fries the most captivating pork cutlets on television. They are shaped like her legs..." (What vanity!)

Sex and the Kitchen (NY Times):
____________________
If you've heard of Nigella Lawson, it is likely you know the following things about her: She is voluptuous. She licks her fingers and likes to flick her hair as she flirts with the camera. And her cooking show, Nigella Bites, has created a sensation in Britain, where it is one of the country's most popular cooking programs....

Ms. Lawson manages to deliver what so many other food shows don't. She brings to life the sensual aspects of cooking, helping you understand not only what you are after but also the pleasure of the journey, and she encourages you along the way. It is the rare example of great food television.

The show is set in her house in west London, and you see her digging spices out of plastic bags in the pantry. She prepares dishes you can imagine making after a busy day at work. She mixes salads with her hands. She uses canned chickpeas. And yet her house is just fabulous enough, her cooking just ambitious enough, to keep the bubble of fantasy intact.

Ms. Lawson, 41, became known as a food critic for The Spectator, and is now the food editor for British Vogue. In How to Eat (John Wiley & Sons, 2000), she brings you into her life and tells you how she thinks about food, how meals come together in her head, what snacks she makes for herself and how she cooks for family and friends. The premise is solid. "Although it's possible to love eating without being able to cook, I don't believe you can ever really cook unless you love eating." Rather than telling you how to cook, she encourages you to take pleasure in feeding yourself and others....

But it is on her television show that she comes into her own. It makes many current cooking shows look like vaudeville acts. Ms. Lawson's greatest feat may be that she comes across as a real person. Gourmet magazine said in its April 2001 issue that Ms. Lawson "looks like a movie star." It is a common claim, and it is where many observers get it wrong. Ms. Lawson looks like your neighbor, who would be beautiful if she had time to fix her hair, but who is preoccupied with getting her kids to school, has a job to keep and battles her weight. It's the Oprah Winfrey effect. She may have a much more glamorous life than you have (Ms. Lawson's father was Margaret Thatcher's chancellor of the exchequer, her dead husband a famous journalist), but she seems to face the same struggles you do, and so you can trust her every word.

The show in her home has a vitality that cannot be reproduced on a set. Ms. Lawson moves around the kitchen, instinctively reaching for the herbs in the corner by the stove, pulling on the door of her refrigerator, turning on the burner. It is a modern kitchen with a greenhouse-like wall and stainless steel accessories. Next to it is a cozy dining area with a worn oak table and simple white vinyl chairs. The walls are lined with books. There is no product placement in sight. And although her kitchen is minimal to the point of being cold, this works to Ms. Lawson's advantage. Hosts like Martha Stewart, who uses a warmer and fuzzier setting, can come across as ice cubes. Ms. Lawson is her kitchen's moving hearth, its focal point and soul.

There is a distinctly voyeuristic appeal as well. You find yourself wishing the camera would zoom in on the books, to see what Ms. Lawson reads, and on the refrigerator door, which is patched with photos, notes and clippings. What is on that grocery list?...

She throws in good tips left and right, like freezing leftover wine in little baggies so you don't have to open a new bottle when a recipe calls for it. She even admits taking the leftovers from her guests' glasses.

She also takes plenty of reassuring shortcuts. In one episode, she warmed water in a kettle and combined it with chicken broth, couscous and canned chickpeas. In another, she defended the use of frozen peas. There will also be the occasional amusing comment, which feels refreshingly unscripted. "My skill lies in eating," she said, after fumbling over her words.

At its best, Nigella Bites makes you want to cook.
____________________
A cool guy on my reading list is Cheshire Dave, a cat who purrs around Berkeley. He's just written a play, "The Finest Poet," that will be performed with a host of other short plays at La Val's Subterranean Theater (remember the pizza place, guys?) every weekend this March!

He wrote me:

After a zillion years of doing posters for plays written by other people,
I'm beyond thrilled to announce I've finally moved on to doing a poster for
a play written by, well, me. That is, my play and six more plays written by
other fine folks -- it's Impact Theatre's Impact Briefs 5! It's their fifth
festival of ten-minute plays, culled from submissions from all over the
country but focusing on life here in the Bay Area.

I'm writing not so much to hype the poster, really (though we all think it's
pretty fun -- email me if you want a PDF of it), but more to encourage you
to check out the show. It's playing every weekend in March, at La Val's
Subterranean (where, if they get their remodeling done in time, you can
bring pizza and drinks into the theater), just north of the UC Berkeley
campus. It should be quite a fun show -- at the very least a far, far better
sequel than, say, Rocky 5, Star Trek 5, or perhaps even Henry V.

Way to go, Cheshire Dave!!! I will try to make it next month, probably with my astrophysicist friend Bob. I also asked Cheshire about his unusual name. He wrote back:

Yes, Cheshire is really my name, though not in the legal sense. Cheshire is
an old nickname that I adopted as my actual name in 1994. Only my family and other people who knew me before then still call me Dave. It sounds weird
when they try to say Cheshire, not that most of them have tried.

Some people have an easier time of it than others. Recently, my girlfriend's
parents asked her how to address a wedding invitation to us, specifically
how to address me. When she told them "Cheshire Beckerman," they replied,
"But this is, you know, _formal_." Fortunately, Sarah reiterated how they
should write my name on the invitation.

As a designer, I just basically go by the moniker Cheshire Dave. I still
haven't resolved what my professional name will be.

Whoa, Cheshire Dave! Rewind the tape!...Wedding??? Did I just miss something? Goes to show what happens when I don't keep up with my online friends. Many congrats, Cheshire! I wish we had this automatic service that would scan our favorite blogs and send us a note whenever anything major had happened. Like a blogger...

had a stubbed toe,
broke up,
died laughing,
had six-headed baby and started hourly breastfeedings,
tried twice to "go on hiatus" but could not handle the withdrawal symptoms and came back begging for more hits.

Bottom line: Go see him next Month! Get out of the house and get your nose out of that chip specifications data book. Go soak up some Cheshire culture!

Posted 12:44 AM by Blah blah

Sorry I haven't updated for a while. I have been running from one event or activity to another since Friday, and when I have a free moment, I seriously need sleep. Will update soon! Thanks for your patience. You won't be disappointed. Lots to say as always!

In the meantime, here's a cool idea to get to know your fellow bloggers: Blogger Insider. Thea did a great job answering it. If you haven't checked her out yet, please do. She's studying biology at Caltech and a very prolific writer who completed her novel for NaNoWriMo. She's also a long-time cello player.

Friendship

In the meantime, here's a quote from my favorite essayist, Ralph Waldo Emerson. I read and reread him while in college, and Ralph helped me through many a discouraging night. I love these parts from his essay, "Friendship":

Our intellectual and active powers increase with our affection. The scholar sits down to write, and all his years of meditation do not furnish him with one good thought or happy expression; but it is necessary to write a letter to a friend, — and, forthwith, troops of gentle thoughts invest themselves, on every hand, with chosen words....

Thus every man passes his life in the search after friendship, and if he should record his true sentiment, he might write a letter like this to each new candidate for his love.

DEAR FRIEND: —

If I was sure of thee, sure of thy capacity, sure to match my mood with thine, I should never think again of trifles in relation to thy comings and goings. I am not very wise; my moods are quite attainable; and I respect thy genius; it is to me as yet unfathomed; yet dare I not presume in thee a perfect intelligence of me, and so thou art to me a delicious torment. Thine ever, or never....

I do not wish to treat friendships daintily, but with roughest courage. When they are real, they are not glass threads or frostwork, but the solidest thing we know. For now, after so many ages of experience, what do we know of nature, or of ourselves? Not one step has man taken toward the solution of the problem of his destiny. In one condemnation of folly stand the whole universe of men. But the sweet sincerity of joy and peace, which I draw from this alliance with my brother's soul, is the nut itself, whereof all nature and all thought is but the husk and shell. Happy is the house that shelters a friend! It might well be built, like a festal bower or arch, to entertain him a single day. Happier, if he know the solemnity of that relation, and honor its law! He who offers himself a candidate for that covenant comes up, like an Olympian, to the great games, where the first-born of the world are the competitors. He proposes himself for contests where Time, Want, Danger, are in the lists, and he alone is victor who has truth enough in his constitution to preserve the delicacy of his beauty from the wear and tear of all these. The gifts of fortune may be present or absent, but all the speed in that contest depends on intrinsic nobleness, and the contempt of trifles. There are two elements that go to the composition of friendship, each so sovereign that I can detect no superiority in either, no reason why either should be first named. One is Truth. A friend is a person with whom I may be sincere. Before him I may think aloud. I am arrived at last in the presence of a man so real and equal, that I may drop even those undermost garments of dissimulation, courtesy, and second thought, which men never put off, and may deal with him with the simplicity and wholeness with which one chemical atom meets another. Sincerity is the luxury allowed, like diadems and authority, only to the highest rank, that being permitted to speak truth, as having none above it to court or conform unto. Every man alone is sincere. At the entrance of a second person, hypocrisy begins. We parry and fend the approach of our fellow-man by compliments, by gossip, by amusements, by affairs. We cover up our thought from him under a hundred folds. I knew a man, who, under a certain religious frenzy, cast off this drapery, and, omitting all compliment and commonplace, spoke to the conscience of every person he encountered, and that with great insight and beauty. At first he was resisted, and all men agreed he was mad. But persisting, as indeed he could not help doing, for some time in this course, he attained to the advantage of bringing every man of his acquaintance into true relations with him. No man would think of speaking falsely with him, or of putting him off with any chat of markets or reading-rooms. But every man was constrained by so much sincerity to the like plaindealing, and what love of nature, what poetry, what symbol of truth he had, he did certainly show him. But to most of us society shows not its face and eye, but its side and its back. To stand in true relations with men in a false age is worth a fit of insanity, is it not? We can seldom go erect. Almost every man we meet requires some civility, — requires to be humored; he has some fame, some talent, some whim of religion or philanthropy in his head that is not to be questioned, and which spoils all conversation with him. But a friend is a sane man who exercises not my ingenuity, but me. My friend gives me entertainment without requiring any stipulation on my part. A friend, therefore, is a sort of paradox in nature. I who alone am, I who see nothing in nature whose existence I can affirm with equal evidence to my own, behold now the semblance of my being, in all its height, variety, and curiosity, reiterated in a foreign form; so that a friend may well be reckoned the masterpiece of nature.

The other element of friendship is tenderness. We are holden to men by every sort of tie, by blood, by pride, by fear, by hope, by lucre, by lust, by hate, by admiration, by every circumstance and badge and trifle, but we can scarce believe that so much character can subsist in another as to draw us by love. Can another be so blessed, and we so pure, that we can offer him tenderness? When a man becomes dear to me, I have touched the goal of fortune. I find very little written directly to the heart of this matter in books. And yet I have one text which I cannot choose but remember. My author says, — "I offer myself faintly and bluntly to those whose I effectually am, and tender myself least to him to whom I am the most devoted." I wish that friendship should have feet, as well as eyes and eloquence. It must plant itself on the ground, before it vaults over the moon. I wish it to be a little of a citizen, before it is quite a cherub. We chide the citizen because he makes love a commodity. It is an exchange of gifts, of useful loans; it is good neighbourhood; it watches with the sick; it holds the pall at the funeral; and quite loses sight of the delicacies and nobility of the relation. But though we cannot find the god under this disguise of a sutler, yet, on the other hand, we cannot forgive the poet if he spins his thread too fine, and does not substantiate his romance by the municipal virtues of justice, punctuality, fidelity, and pity. I hate the prostitution of the name of friendship to signify modish and worldly alliances. I much prefer the company of ploughboys and tin-peddlers, to the silken and perfumed amity which celebrates its days of encounter by a frivolous display, by rides in a curricle, and dinners at the best taverns. The end of friendship is a commerce the most strict and homely that can be joined; more strict than any of which we have experience. It is for aid and comfort through all the relations and passages of life and death. It is fit for serene days, and graceful gifts, and country rambles, but also for rough roads and hard fare, shipwreck, poverty, and persecution. It keeps company with the sallies of the wit and the trances of religion. We are to dignify to each other the daily needs and offices of man's life, and embellish it by courage, wisdom, and unity. It should never fall into something usual and settled, but should be alert and inventive, and add rhyme and reason to what was drudgery.

Friendship may be said to require natures so rare and costly, each so well tempered and so happily adapted, and withal so circumstanced, (for even in that particular, a poet says, love demands that the parties be altogether paired,) that its satisfaction can very seldom be assured. It cannot subsist in its perfection, say some of those who are learned in this warm lore of the heart, betwixt more than two. I am not quite so strict in my terms, perhaps because I have never known so high a fellowship as others. I please my imagination more with a circle of godlike men and women variously related to each other, and between whom subsists a lofty intelligence. But I find this law of one to one peremptory for conversation, which is the practice and consummation of friendship. Do not mix waters too much. The best mix as ill as good and bad. You shall have very useful and cheering discourse at several times with two several men, but let all three of you come together, and you shall not have one new and hearty word. Two may talk and one may hear, but three cannot take part in a conversation of the most sincere and searching sort. In good company there is never such discourse between two, across the table, as takes place when you leave them alone. In good company, the individuals merge their egotism into a social soul exactly co-extensive with the several consciousnesses there present. No partialities of friend to friend, no fondnesses of brother to sister, of wife to husband, are there pertinent, but quite otherwise. Only he may then speak who can sail on the common thought of the party, and not poorly limited to his own. Now this convention, which good sense demands, destroys the high freedom of great conversation, which requires an absolute running of two souls into one.

No two men but, being left alone with each other, enter into simpler relations. Yet it is affinity that determines which two shall converse. Unrelated men give little joy to each other; will never suspect the latent powers of each. We talk sometimes of a great talent for conversation, as if it were a permanent property in some individuals. Conversation is an evanescent relation, — no more. A man is reputed to have thought and eloquence; he cannot, for all that, say a word to his cousin or his uncle. They accuse his silence with as much reason as they would blame the insignificance of a dial in the shade. In the sun it will mark the hour. Among those who enjoy his thought, he will regain his tongue.

Friendship requires that rare mean betwixt likeness and unlikeness, that piques each with the presence of power and of consent in the other party. Let me be alone to the end of the world, rather than that my friend should overstep, by a word or a look, his real sympathy. I am equally balked by antagonism and by compliance. Let him not cease an instant to be himself. The only joy I have in his being mine, is that the not mine is mine. I hate, where I looked for a manly furtherance, or at least a manly resistance, to find a mush of concession. Better be a nettle in the side of your friend than his echo. The condition which high friendship demands is ability to do without it. That high office requires great and sublime parts. There must be very two, before there can be very one. Let it be an alliance of two large, formidable natures, mutually beheld, mutually feared, before yet they recognize the deep identity which beneath these disparities unites them.

He only is fit for this society who is magnanimous; who is sure that greatness and goodness are always economy; who is not swift to intermeddle with his fortunes. Let him not intermeddle with this. Leave to the diamond its ages to grow, nor expect to accelerate the births of the eternal. Friendship demands a religious treatment. We talk of choosing our friends, but friends are self-elected. Reverence is a great part of it. Treat your friend as a spectacle. Of course he has merits that are not yours, and that you cannot honor, if you must needs hold him close to your person. Stand aside; give those merits room; let them mount and expand. Are you the friend of your friend's buttons, or of his thought? To a great heart he will still be a stranger in a thousand particulars, that he may come near in the holiest ground. Leave it to girls and boys to regard a friend as property, and to suck a short and all-confounding pleasure, instead of the noblest benefit....

Should not the society of my friend be to me poetic, pure, universal, and great as nature itself? Ought I to feel that our tie is profane in comparison with yonder bar of cloud that sleeps on the horizon, or that clump of waving grass that divides the brook? Let us not vilify, but raise it to that standard. That great, defying eye, that scornful beauty of his mien and action, do not pique yourself on reducing, but rather fortify and enhance. Worship his superiorities; wish him not less by a thought, but hoard and tell them all. Guard him as thy counterpart. Let him be to thee for ever a sort of beautiful enemy, untamable, devoutly revered, and not a trivial conveniency to be soon outgrown and cast aside.

Happy Chinese New Year and Happy Valentine's Day!

Posted 9:11 PM by Blah blah

Stressful day at work today. Sigh. I was NOT happy. Tried to sleep and laugh it off.

Posted 6:54 PM by Blah blah

New for My Reading List

New blog in The Asian Journalist, called Time of My Life, by H L. She's a Chinese Christian girl who recently moved from the East Coast to Silicon Valley! Since I'm also an East Coast transplant (from New England), I dig many of her funny and right-on-target observations, like:

Even though I've always worked in science/technology I think I'm actually much more of a humanities type of person. Recently someone asked me if I could do it all over would I have chosen to major in something fuzzy instead of a science. I still said no. I'm still too ingrained with the Asian mentality. But I lived in a world in which it would be "practical" to do so. I wish I lived in a parallel universe in which English and sociology majors are wooed and recruited out of school into start-ups where they get paid lots of money to write all day. Engineering would be for humanities drop-outs. They would get jobs answering the phones at these start-ups. Haha! Alas, the world is not that way. But still, maybe one day someone will pay me to blog.

- Some people here seem to be unaware that anything exists outside of California. Now while this is certainly an understandable misconception I was still pretty shocked when one girl asked me whether Delaware was close to Sacramento. Another person, when asked if she had grown up in the area, replied casually, "No, I grew up in Fremont." [H L, I still meet people who think my home of Rhode Island is somewhere in the Bahamas! People here think the world revolves around California.]

- This goes without saying, but there are SO many Asians. I don't think I ever realized what it was like not to be a minority until I came here. Not only that but there are a ton of Cantonese people here. When I was growing up my Mandarin friends always made fun of me for my peasant roots. "Har Gow! Siu Mai!" Here I don't have to explain that no, I don't eat dog. [Since I went to an elementary school in New England with only TWO Asians (including me), I thought I had come to this racial nirvana.]

- The cost of living here really is insane. Just because a house looks like it's made of sticks doesn't mean it's not a million dollars. I remember once as a community service activity my fellowship was collecting canned goods for a food drive. My team was assigned to a neighorhood in Cupertino. As I was walking around I was thinking that maybe we should be giving these people canned goods instead of soliciting them. Some of the houses looked like they were about to fall apart and one looked like someone had built it out of twigs. Imagine my shock when a guy on my team told me that houses in this neighborhood were still in the ballpark of a million dollars! [I'm laughing. My parents felt the same culture shock.]

So Diary of a Mad Monk: The Confessions of an Ex-Priest, by Dave, came back out of hiding last month! I must be the last to know. Will add him to my reading list. Here's what I wrote about him. Am feeling stretched and exhausted today. How are you doing?

Good to see that Tae Kim in NYC has a new look, password-free! Check him out. Hiya Tae!

Posted 1:46 AM by Blah blah

Businessman's convoy of love for Vice-President (Ananova): "A businessman rolled up in a convoy of 24 black cadillacs to propose to Taiwan's Vice-President. Tung Nien-tai was stopped a block away from the Presidential Office by 160 police officers and threw his 99 red roses into the street. He is said to be infatuated with Vice-President Annette Lu Hsiu-lien." Move over, Chu Mei-Feng! Give Annette some press time.

Craigslist craziness

Whenever I want an instant laugh, I turn to the Best of Craigslist. If you are still a Craigslist virgin, their ads typically are spunky, overeducated, and range from classy to Jerry Springer-ish. Since most of them are from San Francisco, you can expect to find the most wild, quirky, countercultural, articulate, and intelligent people. Ok, all of you aged 17 and below---and all of you Asian parents---please cover your eyes and go straight to Barney and Friends. What follows is R-rated, meaning it would all be new to Al Gore:

you looked sexy even though...:
...you were having a seizure. it was in the hair care section at the noe valley walgreens. i was the guy in the blue shirt holding your legs while that old man put his wallet in your mouth. let's get together when you're feeling less woozy.

To the lovely blond I may have offended:
I was just thinking about this afternoon and think we may have had some miscommunication.

When I asked if you were a hooker I didn't mean it like it might have sounded or how I think you may have taken it. I didn't mean that you LOOK like a hooker just that if you wanted to be one that I'm sure you could do very well at it because I think you are gorgeous. I meant it as a compliment but somehow I don't think you took it that way.

Now that I think about it maybe I should have used the term "call girl."

Wanna try this again? I promise the next time we see each other I won't be so goddamn drunk.

The Truth About Cats and...Well, Just Dogs: List of bad dating ads.

The Beautiful Pharmacy Girls at Kaiser:
As I waited in line to drop off my prescription in the South Building, 1st floor pharmacy at Kaiser in Pleasanton I realized that all four girls working the pharmacy, including the redhead that kept coming and going, were very attractive. Being newly single, not only am I realizing how many truly beautiful women are around but that these women may be available to ME. So knowing that soon I'll be face to face with a young beautiful pharmacy girl I started contemplating how I'm going to charm one of these lovelies into giving me her phone number so we can hook up for an arbitrary beverage. Therein lies my dilemma, how do you pick up on a pharmacy girl?...

coolest girl ever seeks same:
"i desire her friendship more than i desire bejeweled platinum jewelry"
---p. diddy

"sexier than robert plant and britney spears spears wrestling beneath a glorious waterfall of olive oil and glitter"
---justin timberlake

"i would come out of my secret hiding place just for a chance at her friendship."
---VP dick cheney

"i'm just glad she lets me borrow her clothes"
---chloe sevigny

cars passing in the sunset:
You were the beautiful asian woman in the blue(?) car yelling sweet obscenities in my ear.

I was the smitten asian guy in the tan Corolla that almost hit you.

We both stopped and held eye contact for several seconds as you screamed your pretty head off. I thought I felt a spark. I was willing to take up your offer to teach me how to drive but didn't catch your info as you sped off. Coffee?

this is in or around missed collision at Taraval and 27th @ 6pm, 1/14

[Some women are just more beautiful bitchy.]

Space Alien:
Space Alien looking for human female subject for scientific experimenation - maybe more. I'm looking for a woman who wants more than capture, probe, mind wipe and release.

I'm 9' tall, grey skin, gills, long smooth tentacles with lots of suckers, cold slimy skin and green eyes. Most women find me attractive! I'm easy going and have a great sense of humor. If you mind meld with me you'll know that. I haven't been in a serious relationship in over 100,000 years - but I think I'm ready again.

I like to spend a romantic evening soaking in a nice big tub of warm brine and have someone to mind meld with and rub my tentacles - touching - feeling - especially the 9th tenacle - if you know what I mean. --- hmmmmmm --- ;;-))

[Reminds me of what I consider to be Isaac Asimov's funniest story, "What is this Thing Called Love?"]

I need someone to take CPA Ethics test for me:
Local CPA candidate has no time to study; will PAY you to take the ethics exam for me! Serious replies, only. You must have passed test in California within last two years.

[Andersen, eat your heart out.]

High Tech Martyr:
Objective:

I am seeking a position that will utilize many years experience taking the blame for things that don't go as planned....

This town and bong water, perfect together:
The really interesting part about SF is the combination of tech-geek/geniuses and stoner/drug-user. Where I'm from, we smoked and then watch beevis and butthead marathons or up_in_smoke for about the 1000th time. On one occasion, we did create a bong out of an empty tennis ball cannister, a steel pen, and duct tape. We thought we were pretty brilliant and congratulated ourselves for about 2 or 3 days.

Also, people seem to be extremely well-researched here about recreational drug use. Back home, we just roll. Here, people are careful to preload with antioxidents, 5-HTP, b-6, and folic acid followed by a post-roll SSRI to prevent axon loss. Of course, that does nothing to prevent damage to the seratonin transport (or something similar) mechanism so it would best be wise to keep MDMA consumption to under 1mg/pound. All this was calmly explained to me by someone at a club whose pupils were so dilated that he looked like a caucasian that had just stepped out of a japanese cartoon. Oh, and he had just developed a new object-oriented programming language for creating multi-user web-enabled applications.

What exactly do you call a geeky slacker? Someone who does nothing all day but smoke and on occasion revolutionizes the field of optics by creating a new form of packet-switching technology?

[Give me a glass of water, pleeeez! I'm hyperventilating. Yuk yuk yuk. "There are two major products that come out of Berkeley: LSD and UNIX. We don't believe this to be a coincidence." -- Jeremy Anderson]

Free Spelling Lessons for all CL Posters:
uninhibited
Pronunciation: "&n-in-'hi-b&-t&d
Function: adjective
free from inhibition.

uninhabited
Main Entry: inhabited
Function: adjective
having inhabitants.
so, the opposite of 'having inhabitants' would be 'not having inhabitants'

hint: you want the first one (uninhibited).
as in, "Need a girl next door who's completely uninhibited with my 12' pet boa."

Flirting on my deathbed:
You were the medical tech that helped me out after the boring overfed ambulance men dropped me off at Kaiser in SF.

Dark hair, not to tall.. a bit scruffy. Very energetic.

You looked like you had band practice after work. We made eye contact in a big way and in my weakened voice i tried to be bubbly and flirt with you. how pathetic but i tried!

In spite of my illness, dirty hair and unshaven legs, somehow you saw through all that and smiled at me.

too bad my mom was there or I would have asked you more questions. I feel like such a dork. But I did notice you.

You were the reason I didnt go towards the light! thank you.

Maybe next time we will meet under better circumstances. Im all better now!

Cute Girl with Amoebae Seeks Nice Man to Feed Us:
Slightly feverish, attractive single woman (early 30's) with mild cramping seeks kind gentleman to take me and my amoebae out to dinner. You pay for dinner, I'll pay for our prescription drugs. Clean restaurants only. Please hurry. We are ravenous. You must be a social extrovert as the amoebae currently outnumber us and have all sorts of outlandish things to say.

To view amoebae, click here:

We are standing by, snacking, waiting for your reply.

How to Flirt:
My missed connection is to the man in the ski cap at java beach today, the blonde (long hair) man at Safeway in outer Richmond last night, and it goes on and on! I've realized why. I don't know how to flirt. Any men out there (late 20's and early 30's) want to tell this clueless woman how to flirt? What do women do that gets your attention and keep it? Please?

REPLY:
...
If we're not strangers, and you want to make your interest clear when we're hanging out somewhere, it'll vary from situation to situation, but some things are generally true:
- laugh at my jokes.
- touch me. Nothing gross, simply a hand on my knee (if I'm tall, my head if I'm short) when making a point in conversation.
- mention that you're single. The best way is to mention a date you had last week that didn't go well - it shows you're available but not desperate. It also, if you tell it right, gives him a hint about what you would want a date to be like.
- massage my prostate. (Gently)

My missed connection?
a literary device that'll wean me off of excessive parenthesis. I know you're out there, somewhere. (aren't you?)

Luscious Geek--we slept together--you had to be at work by 4 AM:
My Sweet,

I woke up and you were gone! Tore the house up but couldn't find you anywhere. I forgot to tell you I'm falling madly in love with you. The passions we shared this weekend--I confess, I've been dorkwhipped! But you left so early--was it something I said? something I did? something I poured on you and licked off?

Perhaps you don't understand the depth of my passion. Well let me tell you:
I would face my technophobia for you! I'd learn to bank online. I'd even stop calling 1-800 numbers and find what I need on the web, just pleeeeeease come back to me! I need my very own computer geek.

My printer is still broken and I plan to be very VERY grateful when you get it working again. Yes, you are the skilled technician to fix everything that ails me. You have the hands of a musician, and the concentration of a brain surgeon. I've got an a: drive that wants to have your disk inside--I promise to use virus protection--oh, download me, baby!

Am I coming on too strong? Is that what sent you out into the night? Please forgive me for being so wanton, but you bring it out in me. Can we please play the naughty computer store salesgirl and the curious consumer just one more time? Will you surf my web? install that hard drive? kiss me and murmur obscure programming commands in my ear?

Only you have the password to this account. I knew my only chance would be to post something online.

passionately awaiting your next email,

geeklover

one bedroom apartment plus boyfriend:
I have a sunny one bedroom in Noe Valley. I also have really cute legs. This will make sense in a second . I decided this place was feeling just too big so I thought I would look for a roommate and then I remembered that I was looking for a girlfriend too so why don't I just throw all my eggs in one basket and go for the whole Shibang. Kittenkaboodle. Ball of wax. Whatever. This might sound nuts but I bet there is some lovely woman out there saying to herself, " GOD I wish I could find a good man... with a full size refrigerator and new tile in the bathroom." So here is the deal: you have a great smile and a heart of gold, and you also need to have curtain rods and hopefully a good floor lamp. I am 35, physically fit, have a good job, and the apartment has a living room and a good size kitchen. I have an unusually high IQ, interesting sense of humor, and there is plenty of cabinet space in the pantry and good water pressure in the shower head. I am looking for someone who is sweet and honest and earnest (like me) and who likes to have presents made for her and her pillow fluffed and also wouldn't mind making me a ham sandwich now and again. NOT because she HAS TO, but because she LOVES me. Like I love her. Which is why I would sit there and hold her hand while she cried for an hour about something that made absolutely no sense. And then I would get up and make HER a ham sandwich. And some soup. Then I would fix the water heater. Because I love her. Anyway, the apartment is close to shops and muni and my best qualities are my exhuberance for life, one-of -a- kind personality and kindness and compassion for others. I retain a certain cheerfulness and hopeful disposition, and I am even romantic like people were back in the days before the sexes were afraid to interact with each other…like when they would actually smile and say hi to each other… like in the 50’s. Upon completion of a successful interview please be prepared to provide a nominal deposit . You also have to sleep with me. Utilities included. Did I mention I like animals?