4.25.2008
#35
They amuse me, the high-and-mighties who come to this city, who criticize our dirty streets, remark on the smog, and then make comments about New Yorkers...they amuse me especially, though, when they do al of the above and THEN cannot figure out how to get on the shuttle instead of the 3 train. How do you do that? How do you end up at 72nd street and still not realize you're on the wrong train for Grand Central? Idiots. On another note, I'm kind of in love with my new neighborhood in Harlem. It's only a little noisy, the streets are much more populated and, therefore, more interesting. It's funny, though, because I'm like, the token white girl of our block...and probably the token white girl of Adam Clayton Powell Jr. Blvd....it's interesting being somewhat on the other side of things. This area is kinda pretty, too. There's an actual community feel to it. Not that I'm wanting to be part of a bigger community because, honestly, I suck at that kind of thing. But it's a nice feeling all the same. The one thing, though, that drives me nuts about this area is that you get so few yellow cabs coming up here and so you've got all these gypsy cabs trying to pick me up at the freaking bus stop. Aggravation.
4.15.2008
Tokyo Disney
Tokyo Disney struggles against rival parks and age
I think a very interesting point that they make is that "By 2055, 40 percent of Japan's population will be aged over 65." But...as interesting as that is, 2055 is a good....47 years away...I might be dead by then....so....I'm not sure why they're bringing it up NOW. I could understand bringing it up, say, 25 years from now when the time is closer. But if you attract older people now, in 47 years it's not going to really matter. Maybe I'm being silly and naïve here, but something tells me that their struggle to bring in a higher male population is probably a little more important right now.
I was kind of surprised when they mentioned Disney in Hong Kong...mostly because I'd forgotten it existed. I think I was even more surprised, though, when they said they were looking to set up shop in Shanghai. Now...for NBC/Universal, that would make more sense. But Disney? Really? Aren't we getting a LITTLE ahead of ourselves? I thought that Robert Iger was beginning to reel the company in--make smart and effective choices for the company--leading it in the right direction, not too fast. He's been viewed in stark comparison to Michael Eisner (read: O how I loathe him) who had begun to allow the company to expand too quickly in the wrong directions. Eisner...*shudder*... But really, Robert Iger, Shanghai too? Why? I don't really know why it would be necessary! Yes of COURSE it would undermine the existence of a park in Hong Kong! They're only about 760 miles apart...and there's one right there in Tokyo...that's like setting up another Disney World in Baltimore (about 800 miles from Orlando) when there's already one in Anaheim. I mean, really?
It's all very strange that THESE are things they worry about when you've got rides in Orlando that kill people.
I think a very interesting point that they make is that "By 2055, 40 percent of Japan's population will be aged over 65." But...as interesting as that is, 2055 is a good....47 years away...I might be dead by then....so....I'm not sure why they're bringing it up NOW. I could understand bringing it up, say, 25 years from now when the time is closer. But if you attract older people now, in 47 years it's not going to really matter. Maybe I'm being silly and naïve here, but something tells me that their struggle to bring in a higher male population is probably a little more important right now.
I was kind of surprised when they mentioned Disney in Hong Kong...mostly because I'd forgotten it existed. I think I was even more surprised, though, when they said they were looking to set up shop in Shanghai. Now...for NBC/Universal, that would make more sense. But Disney? Really? Aren't we getting a LITTLE ahead of ourselves? I thought that Robert Iger was beginning to reel the company in--make smart and effective choices for the company--leading it in the right direction, not too fast. He's been viewed in stark comparison to Michael Eisner (read: O how I loathe him) who had begun to allow the company to expand too quickly in the wrong directions. Eisner...*shudder*... But really, Robert Iger, Shanghai too? Why? I don't really know why it would be necessary! Yes of COURSE it would undermine the existence of a park in Hong Kong! They're only about 760 miles apart...and there's one right there in Tokyo...that's like setting up another Disney World in Baltimore (about 800 miles from Orlando) when there's already one in Anaheim. I mean, really?
It's all very strange that THESE are things they worry about when you've got rides in Orlando that kill people.
4.13.2008
Satyagraha
I really want to see this...
Satyagraha c/o the New York Times
edit: I just bought myself a ticket for the 28th!! wooo!!
Satyagraha c/o the New York Times
edit: I just bought myself a ticket for the 28th!! wooo!!
4.10.2008
4.08.2008
some things from the past
I've been trying to get rid of the paper copies of my high school journals for a long time. partly because they take up space, partly because they're a fire hazard, and partly because they're a part of my past that i don't want to recall THAT strongly because, really, i wasn't that thrilled with my life in high school. So, to solve all of these problems, i've decided to commit, to hard drive and internet blog, the best of the best entries before i burn all of them or throw them into the East River.
I'll preface this even further--I don't expect you to understand the ME of 6, 7, 8, 9 years ago. But some of my stuff was pretty good and pretty interesting so I'm memorializing it this way for me. Take it as you will. (I mean, really, anyone who writes that someone in their class thinks that she is "God's gift to the bell curve"....I swear to god, i did, 6/24/00....must have some interesting writing....)
Going over all of this, there are a lot of things that I wrote in my personal journal (not my school journal) that I'm both ashamed of, and astonished at. You never really realize how immature a high schooler is until you've peered into your own mind from 5-10 years on... What's interesting is that my relationships that were strongest then, are still strongest now. And those that I obviously gave up caring about then have persisted in being absent from my mind.
These are in some kind of random order until the end where i actually found pages in sequential order. geez.
July 7, 2003
Untitled
I have seen both sunlight and moonlight sweep your eyes
I have seen fire and water hold your gaze
And then, just when I'd thought water and moonlight had tempted you,
You played with fire and danced in the sun
I had not the foresight to see that change come over you.
I was blinded by what I saw, you,
a mix of cool mountain air and warm springs...
I believed that water by moonlight was enough,
but now I see that twilight-almost-sunrise is what tempts you...
December 12, 2001
Revelation
I sat on my roof,
I watched the stars,
They revolved around my head
my face was lit
by heaven's angels
as I listened to what they had to say
They whispered to me
in tongues of light
Comprehension, only mine
they told me my future,
and paved my way,
then they took me by the hand.
September 11, 2001
The World Has Gone Insane
City setting. All's the same as it was yesterday morning. Men and women begin to arrive at work. Crash. The wold is silenced for a moment, then buzzing again. Crash. The world is silent and remains so. Dust. Cement. Glass. Steel. Boom. Crash. Bam. The world is paralyzed.
Where were you? What were you doing?
One thing I find myself thinking of is an idea i've never considered--my friends and I--we're all at an age where, if need be, we could be drafted. The world does not need another war. And the last thing any of us needs is to lose another friend. We did that enough 4 months ago when we lost Drew.
What really gets me is how, during the bomb threat evacuation, people were so sad because "oh New York might get demolished! and I always wanted to live there!" and then they'd start crying. My friends, New York is not just a city. It's a way of life. New Yorkers are strong (I should know) and if this one thing is going to scare you away then, by all means, stay away. It'll make it easier for me to find an apartment and get into schools. Look, we're all in a kind of hysteric shock. But that's no reason to question a New Yorker's strength.
February 17, 2003
Requiem
They've chopped down your
heavy branches, full of dead
fingers, dead toes which hung
from your massive arms and head.
They've released you from
the pain and pressing
of the frozen weights which
your arms, they were stressing
One day your arms were
proud and strong, your head
held high. then the frost came
and all your proud leaves were dead
January 22, 2003
Afterlife
In this world, there are no likes or dislikes. This whirlpool, this vacuum that we exist in doesn't consider personal opinions. In this empty white room, there are no doors, no windows to the outside. There's no telling what happens outside of these walls which, as the day progresses, go from cloudy white to clear blue, to black. In this world there are no poems to write, no music to hear, no words to speak, that surpass the beauty or horror of the ones we do not know. This hole, this deep crevice that we know, does not shed light. We live so deep that there is no fraction of light from above. This serenity that we live in is truly the silence of horror. In this world, there are no happy endings and there is no death, for we shut our eyes to both. This metal, cold, and dark land we live in gives way to no thoughts of change, for it is unbendable. We exist on a tightrope above an empy space to where we dare not fall, for we know not what comes after.
(this one, below, I think i've memorialized before but it's my favorite so i feel like i must... it was published in one of the Fordham Student publications in, I think, 2006)
April 15, 2003
Untitled
I wish I was a writer. Then, perhaps only then, I could understand the experience. That sensation of a just inspiration suddenly running its course through you. The colors, expressions, ideas that suddenly form into words, they all find a place on the paper of a writer. Sometimes it's a look. Sometimes it's a sight, sometimes a glance, a yearning, a pain, a word--anything may inspire the mind of a writer. But I believe you must be a writer in order to understand and express that inspiration. And I believe that, in order to be a writer, you must possess a unique talent for comprehending and deciphering an inspiration. A non-writer may catch a smile and, perhaps, smile back--and thus, that shall be the end. But, on the other hand, a writer may catch a smile and smile back..and then write a poem, an essay, etc. on the meaning of life or, simply, the life of a smile. How amazing it must be to be a writer.
Anyway. That's it. I know, nothing terribly exciting. It's quite a journey, though, for me...to have once again read the entries where I absolutely condemn everyone and then, at the next moment, forgive simply because they let me speak. Among these physical and, now, intangible memories...I found one thing that I cannot bear to part with. It is, I'm sure, the last thing that Drew Parker ever spent money on. The card I got from him for my 16th birthday--a week late, and the day before he died. The card is so incredibly him. I can't believe that it was 7....almost 7...years ago that we lost him. 7 years is a long time and still that day remains fresh in my mind. I hope that, 50 years from now, I can still remember that day just as vividly. Partly because I never want to forget the only genius I've ever known, and partly because I never want to be without the humility that he gave me. It's hard to explain, but that'll have to do it. I sometimes wonder...how long parents keep the date. How long they choose to remember when he died...do they visit the grave every year? Do they leave him flowers or rocks or little notes? Have they forgotten? People do forget, you know. But then, if people do forget, why have I not forgotten. And why, every time my birthday rolls around, do I feel that humility once more? I'm sure I've written endless entries and blogs on this subject every April or May for the past 7 years...but rehashing is sometimes necessary. It preserves him in our minds. Or maybe that's just Drew Parker's genius extending beyond death. See me in 50 years, and maybe I'll have the answer.
I'll preface this even further--I don't expect you to understand the ME of 6, 7, 8, 9 years ago. But some of my stuff was pretty good and pretty interesting so I'm memorializing it this way for me. Take it as you will. (I mean, really, anyone who writes that someone in their class thinks that she is "God's gift to the bell curve"....I swear to god, i did, 6/24/00....must have some interesting writing....)
Going over all of this, there are a lot of things that I wrote in my personal journal (not my school journal) that I'm both ashamed of, and astonished at. You never really realize how immature a high schooler is until you've peered into your own mind from 5-10 years on... What's interesting is that my relationships that were strongest then, are still strongest now. And those that I obviously gave up caring about then have persisted in being absent from my mind.
These are in some kind of random order until the end where i actually found pages in sequential order. geez.
July 7, 2003
Untitled
I have seen both sunlight and moonlight sweep your eyes
I have seen fire and water hold your gaze
And then, just when I'd thought water and moonlight had tempted you,
You played with fire and danced in the sun
I had not the foresight to see that change come over you.
I was blinded by what I saw, you,
a mix of cool mountain air and warm springs...
I believed that water by moonlight was enough,
but now I see that twilight-almost-sunrise is what tempts you...
December 12, 2001
Revelation
I sat on my roof,
I watched the stars,
They revolved around my head
my face was lit
by heaven's angels
as I listened to what they had to say
They whispered to me
in tongues of light
Comprehension, only mine
they told me my future,
and paved my way,
then they took me by the hand.
September 11, 2001
The World Has Gone Insane
City setting. All's the same as it was yesterday morning. Men and women begin to arrive at work. Crash. The wold is silenced for a moment, then buzzing again. Crash. The world is silent and remains so. Dust. Cement. Glass. Steel. Boom. Crash. Bam. The world is paralyzed.
Where were you? What were you doing?
One thing I find myself thinking of is an idea i've never considered--my friends and I--we're all at an age where, if need be, we could be drafted. The world does not need another war. And the last thing any of us needs is to lose another friend. We did that enough 4 months ago when we lost Drew.
What really gets me is how, during the bomb threat evacuation, people were so sad because "oh New York might get demolished! and I always wanted to live there!" and then they'd start crying. My friends, New York is not just a city. It's a way of life. New Yorkers are strong (I should know) and if this one thing is going to scare you away then, by all means, stay away. It'll make it easier for me to find an apartment and get into schools. Look, we're all in a kind of hysteric shock. But that's no reason to question a New Yorker's strength.
February 17, 2003
Requiem
They've chopped down your
heavy branches, full of dead
fingers, dead toes which hung
from your massive arms and head.
They've released you from
the pain and pressing
of the frozen weights which
your arms, they were stressing
One day your arms were
proud and strong, your head
held high. then the frost came
and all your proud leaves were dead
January 22, 2003
Afterlife
In this world, there are no likes or dislikes. This whirlpool, this vacuum that we exist in doesn't consider personal opinions. In this empty white room, there are no doors, no windows to the outside. There's no telling what happens outside of these walls which, as the day progresses, go from cloudy white to clear blue, to black. In this world there are no poems to write, no music to hear, no words to speak, that surpass the beauty or horror of the ones we do not know. This hole, this deep crevice that we know, does not shed light. We live so deep that there is no fraction of light from above. This serenity that we live in is truly the silence of horror. In this world, there are no happy endings and there is no death, for we shut our eyes to both. This metal, cold, and dark land we live in gives way to no thoughts of change, for it is unbendable. We exist on a tightrope above an empy space to where we dare not fall, for we know not what comes after.
(this one, below, I think i've memorialized before but it's my favorite so i feel like i must... it was published in one of the Fordham Student publications in, I think, 2006)
April 15, 2003
Untitled
I wish I was a writer. Then, perhaps only then, I could understand the experience. That sensation of a just inspiration suddenly running its course through you. The colors, expressions, ideas that suddenly form into words, they all find a place on the paper of a writer. Sometimes it's a look. Sometimes it's a sight, sometimes a glance, a yearning, a pain, a word--anything may inspire the mind of a writer. But I believe you must be a writer in order to understand and express that inspiration. And I believe that, in order to be a writer, you must possess a unique talent for comprehending and deciphering an inspiration. A non-writer may catch a smile and, perhaps, smile back--and thus, that shall be the end. But, on the other hand, a writer may catch a smile and smile back..and then write a poem, an essay, etc. on the meaning of life or, simply, the life of a smile. How amazing it must be to be a writer.
Anyway. That's it. I know, nothing terribly exciting. It's quite a journey, though, for me...to have once again read the entries where I absolutely condemn everyone and then, at the next moment, forgive simply because they let me speak. Among these physical and, now, intangible memories...I found one thing that I cannot bear to part with. It is, I'm sure, the last thing that Drew Parker ever spent money on. The card I got from him for my 16th birthday--a week late, and the day before he died. The card is so incredibly him. I can't believe that it was 7....almost 7...years ago that we lost him. 7 years is a long time and still that day remains fresh in my mind. I hope that, 50 years from now, I can still remember that day just as vividly. Partly because I never want to forget the only genius I've ever known, and partly because I never want to be without the humility that he gave me. It's hard to explain, but that'll have to do it. I sometimes wonder...how long parents keep the date. How long they choose to remember when he died...do they visit the grave every year? Do they leave him flowers or rocks or little notes? Have they forgotten? People do forget, you know. But then, if people do forget, why have I not forgotten. And why, every time my birthday rolls around, do I feel that humility once more? I'm sure I've written endless entries and blogs on this subject every April or May for the past 7 years...but rehashing is sometimes necessary. It preserves him in our minds. Or maybe that's just Drew Parker's genius extending beyond death. See me in 50 years, and maybe I'll have the answer.
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