from Xanga : Friday, October 08, 2004
as of today, I AM SO TIRED OF “ANGRY ASIAN MEN”!!!
note: that doesn’t mean all APIA men, just the ones who claim to belong to that special breed of supposedly “APIA aware and enlightened” men that generally enjoy spouting rants of their own, but who don’t really do anything to resolve what they’re ranting about.)
i’ve loved Angry Asian Men for years, until i realized over the past week how the most vocal of this breed tend to:
- believe that their oversimplified, superficial philosophies are the Word of God
- believe that self-righteous ranting is somehow contributing to the APIA community
- indulge in self-righteous ranting
- excuse themselves from actually DOING anything for the APIA community because they are supposedly “filling a need” by self-righteously ranting
- don’t know how to meaningfully interact with other people, tending towards dysfunctional relationships, abusive relationships, or none at all
- blame other people for their own inabilities to develop good relationships and interpersonal communication skills
…and most of all, THEY JUST DON’T PRACTICE WHAT THEY PREACH!
i try not to use “hate” as much as possible, because it’s often misused melodramatically or in place of a word that would better describe the person’s emotion at that moment, and it also dilutes the intensity and strength of the emotion conveyed by “hate” if it’s overused; but one thing i truly hate is a SELF-RIGHTEOUS HYPOCRITE(!), and it seems that the new breed of Angry Asian Man is falling into that hole…the ASS hole!
William Butler Yeats
When you are old and gray and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes once had, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true;
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face.
And bending down beside the glowing bars
Murmur, a little sadly, how love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
Kurt is up in heaven now.
Kurt Vonnegut was a Humanist. He believed people were put on this planet simply “to fart around.” In his 2005 book, “A Man Without a Country” he made a special request: “And if I should ever die, God forbid, I hope you will say, ‘Kurt is up in heaven now.’ That’s my favorite joke.”
At the age of 84, he’s gone on to finally discover whether or not the joke’s on him. He was – and will always be – one of my American Idols.
So it goes.
…
The proper length for an obituary for Kurt Vonnegut is three words: “So it
goes.” This one will do what Vonnegut never did, which is go on too long.
“So it goes” is a phrase from Vonnegut’s novel Slaughterhouse-Five, or
The Children’s Crusade. It’s an expression the Tralfamadorians — a race
of four-dimensional aliens — repeat whenever somebody or something dies. It expresses a certain airy resignation about the inevitability of death. Vonnegut — who died Wednesday night at the age of 84 from injuries suffered in a fall — had the Tralfamadorian attitude. “I’ve been smoking Pall Mall unfiltered cigarettes since I was 12 or 14,” he told Rolling Stone last year. “So I’m going to sue the Brown & Williamson Tobacco Company, who manufactured them. And do you know why? Because I’m 83 years old. The lying bastards! On the package Brown & Williamson promised to kill me.”












