A Night of Madness in Paris

All the people of the free world stand with Paris and the French people in solidarity during these dark days of sadness. A dark shroud of madness descended on Paris yesterday, but it failed to smother the bright lights of liberté, égalité, and fraternité in a city known as the City of Light. Hopefully the French people will not lose sight of their national aspirations and come through this tragedy with these lights shining ever brighter in its aftermath. These lights epitomize the common basic human values shared, aspired and reflected by majority of humanity.

It is sad that a few ignorant, misguided youths, severely misled by a few extremists amid their religious leadership, blindly carried out such senseless and heinous acts of atrocity, where innocent lives were taken to make a fruitless point. Their senseless acts will not only cast a bad light on their own religion in general but also unfairly jeopardize the waves of refugees seeking asylum from the strife-weary, war-torn Middle East in particular. A political backlash will come from the extreme right in some host countries to turn away those desperate souls seeking a better life in Europe and elsewhere.

From the political viewpoint, we the Americans, have more in common with the French than with the British. Our Founding Fathers based the United States Declaration of Independence and the country’s Constitution on the same universal principles of human rights similar to French national motto. Although we are still found wanting on the fraternité side; and Katharine Lee Bates tried to address that with “And crown thy good with brotherhood” in her beloved patriotic song, “America the Beautiful.” We still have quite a way to go before we get there.

Even our Star-Spangled Banner is sometimes called the "Red, White and Blue", the same colors as the French Tricolor. While the British brought us mad King George, class system snobbery, Puritan’s religious fanaticism, puritanic prudery, watercress-cucumber tea sandwiches and the Boston Tea Party, the French people gave us Marquis Gilbert du Motier de Lafayette, the Statue of Liberty, laissez-faire, joie de vivre, French fries and champagne.

What would party rock to, without that ethanol buzz? English tea? Give me a break! Instead of those snobbish, upper-classy British tea sandwiches, the French gave us another simple, popular Bourgeois fare, the French fries. What would American lunch do, without those gluten-free carbohydrate fix? I shudder to think.

"Champagne and greasy French fries," you asked "what kind of food and wine pairing is this? Is that the best you can think of? Out of so many fine, heathy French cuisines and drinks Julia Child had shown us? Obviously, you are no connoisseur of fine French gourmet, are you?" Well, that maybe so, but mine is a greater version of the great French paradox, like the coupling of a commoner, Kate Middleton, with the British crown-aspirant, the Duke of Cambridge, Prince William Arthur Philip Louis of the House of Windsor, aka Saxe-Coburg und Gotha cum Mountbatten. That's both a big mouthful, if you ask me. The name and the house, that is. Well, there is no confusion there. It is not like the name is your average John Smith. With 20 possible (conservatively) popular names for each of the 4 name placeholders, the probability of another person having the same name would be 1 in 20 to the 4th power, let alone a prince. Ditto with the house name, hyphenates notwithstanding.

Rarer still, if you were named after the country's patron saint by a fervently patriotic and religiously devout parent, you would be called George George George George of the House George-George and George with George, and a title apropos, the Dude of George. Did his parent bite off from the royal trappings more than George George George George can chew? I would say so. That was quite a big bite, believe me you. By George, he almost chokes on them every time he opens his mouth trying to announce his own name and nearly runs out of breath just by briefly mentioning it. Poor George George George George of the House George-George and George with George, the Dude of George! Whew!

Now, between the commoner and the prince, which one is the fine sparkling drink and which one is the plain, common snack in their relationship? Well, your guess is as good as mine. This food pairing is an acquired taste then. It just needs some getting used to, that’s all, especially for the British upper-crust’s stiff upper-lips’ taste buds. The commoner and the prince, that is. For some stiffer upper-lipped crème de la crème nobility, it is more than a French paradox, it is the pollution and dilution of the English blue blood, like serving champagne over ice, a severe affront of proper protocol, tradition and taste. Foods do get into your blood stream, you know, especially quicker when coupled with alcohol, hence the dilution and pollution bits. Well, there is always a first in history. Once a precedent is set, certain history is bound to repeat itself. All I have been saying here is about pairing of French fries and champagne. Yes?

To each his or her own taste then. Champagne and French fries, anyone? It is on the house, if you guess the name right. Or see if you can just say it in one breath. OK then. Let’s par-tee! Don’t bite off more than you can chew. Faire la nouba! C'est la vie! And bon appétit!

P.S.: Fight terror with humor!

#PrayForParis #StandByFrance #FrenchNationalMotto #JeSuisParis #FightTerrorWithHumor

Take Down the Confederate Flag from Public Grounds

The Confederate Flag, has long been the symbol of defiance of the pro-slavery south. It is a mockery of human decency that it still flies on the grounds of the South Carolina Statehouse. This gives the flag legitimacy. To African Americans, it still instills unease, fear or even terror. It is a flag under which many white racist groups rally their battle cries of murderous hate and white supremacy.

Some in the south claim that the flag represents the South’s self-assertion against the North’s over-exertion of federal power over state’s rights. It is part of the South’s heritage. But history has rendered its verdict, this self-assertion was based on a wrong and unjustifiable cause, an immoral cause that tried to justify the subjugation of one human race over the other. The Confederate Flag is the symbol of that cause. The Southern heritage is one all Americans should be proud of, it is part of the American cultural landscape, but the Confederate Flag is not one of them. The flag is terra cariosa, in Latin, rotten earth, a gaping gash of quick sand on part of our cultural landscape we should be wise to stay away from. It is an abyss from which one should avert one’s eyes, lest one would be lulled into its hateful embrace.

The Confederate Flag, as well as the Nazi Germany Flag and the Japanese War Flag, should all be relegated to the dark of recess of the World’s Museum of Regrettable and Forgettable History. But the heinous and criminal acts committed under those flags and the lessons learned from them must not be forgotten, like stubborn weeds, they would sprout their tendrils of hatred and malignancy if we were not vigilant at all times. #TakeDownTheFlag

Armchair Sociologist #1: One Religious Observation, Through A Pair Of Glasses Steamily

Based on my own observations, both from personal experience and by reading history, there are two kinds of believers in any given religion: the fanatic at one end of the spectrum and the true spiritual at the other.

The fanatic are sticklers when it comes to religious practice, from literal interpretation of their holy scriptures, strict adherence to ceremonial rituals, their unassailable faith in the infallibility of their religious tenets and their unmovable conviction on the righteousness of their religious laws.

Any deviation from them will be branded and chastised as heretic, infidel or an act of sacrilege. They are self-appointed vicars of their respective god on earth and often act as judge and executioner in their god's name. Yes, they like to play god actually, though not consciously.

The spiritual, in any given religion, however, come to see their scriptures, their rituals, their tenets and laws as the means to the end of their spiritual journeys. Their religious practices are but guide-posts pointing the ways on a free moving highway rather than a tethering third-rail that railroad them on an inevitable one-way tracks towards their guaranteed salvation or afterlife rewards. They are for the most part non-judgmental, for they have come to see god or come to realize a spark of divinity in every sentient being. Some of these are canonized saints or revered sages in their religions.

Those two are the extremes at the two ends of the religious bell curve; for the most of us under the dome of the curve, and if you are a religion follower, come in between the two, a hybrid, a mixed breed pedigree mutt, I'm afraid. But these are the ones that will inherit the earth, with no jihad, crusade or messiah aspirations. Their only wish, through middle-of-the-road religious practice and respect for other faiths, is to reconcile with their own god and attain peace on this temporal world, however imperfect.

As a beginning student and sampler of religions and an imperfect human with many flaws, I have come to appreciate the Ancient Greek religion the best, where imperfect gods were made in the image of man, not man in the image of a perfect god. Maybe we would be more tolerant of each other's failing short of one's expectations or ideals.

Too bad that this ancient belief has now been relegated from a religion status to the realm of mythology, with certain present religious sects are now heading in the same direction and not too far behind. But then, what do I know, I'm but an occasional armchair sociologist, now with misted over glasses, mulling over this observation and a bowl of steaming hot chowder soup, New England Pilgrims a la mode, on a winter afternoon lunch break, with a sandwich of hummus on unleavened kosher bread, accompanied by, last but not least, a glass of Italian Chianti. Ah . . . what a delightful combination, what culinary harmony, what celebration of cultural taste buds . . . yum . . . peace and giving thanks! If only people could leave their messianic exhortations, crusading missions and jihad zeal out the communion of our different heritages and cultures. Mull over this . . .

Bible Amendment No. 1

And God said, Let there be light: and there was light. - Genesis 1 verse 3, King James Bible.

“To see a world in a grain of sand” – William Blake

---------------------------------------------------

And God said, Let there be light: and there was light, and glass!

You might think this humble material, in its crude form, that lines our ocean beaches and trails your personal carbon footprints on your romantic outing with your significant other on a moonlit night does not warrant your second glance. Look again, this crude form of glass in the form of silica, i.e. sand, as numerous as the stars up in the firmament above, has dramatically changed the course of human history as well as our existence.

Take for examples:

It brightens and enhances our physical world with window, light bulb, eye glasses, and movie.

It sheds light on our inner souls and captures instances of them with mirror, camera lens and television.

But more importantly, it ignites in us our inner light, in the form of information and knowledge, to see with our mind-eyes glimpses of the very mind of God, through telescope, microscope, test tube (the generic for all other glass-integrated scientific instruments) and fiber optic.

The last one, those tiny strands of glass fiber, forms the backbone and the central nervous system of our communication network and empowers the Internet. This allows our insatiable information spiders, our cell phones and computers, to crawl and feed on the World Wide Web, through information gathering and sharing, in a never-ending quest, to comprehend our world, and on a subconscious level, a better insight, to understand others as well as ourselves.

This knowledge quest and curiosity hunger prod us to take our tentative baby steps out of our comfort zone and extend further our intellectual reach, out there to touch other worlds in the Cosmos. But only to find that our earth is but a mere insignificant speck of sand, on the vast shore of a remote, lonely island called the Milky Way, awashed in an immense, unfathomable space ocean. But it is our world, our only home, often taken for granted, neglected and exploited towards disrepair.

And ultimately, the Holy Grail we have all been seeking since the day we first became aware of our "self", to find out our purpose in life or our roles in this world, and to the greater extent, to make sense of the Consciousness that governs and drives this universe and maybe other universes beyond, God himself.

And all because of a little tiny grain of sand . . .

If you are in an inquiring mood, go and watch Steven Johnson's interesting PBS series, "How We Get to Now", it has an episode on Glass.


#StevenJohnson #Glass #BibleAmendment

Hong Kong under the Umbrella Revolution: Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon

"The situation has become as riding on (the back of) a tiger." - Chinese Proverb

"China is a sleeping dragon, let it sleep. If he is awaken, he will shake the world." - Napoleon Bonaparte

----------------------------------

The quote above attributed to Napoleon Bonaparte about China varied from the “sleeping giant”, “sleeping dragon”, “sleeping lion” and “sleeping tiger”. Whatever could be said about China from this important historical figure of the world’s stage, “sleeping beauty” was not one of them. Here I prefer to use “sleeping dragon”; for dragon has always been a symbol of imperial China, past Chinese kings and emperors were believed to be the embodiments of dragons, creatures commanding powers and fear. I believe Napoleon would have been aware of this fact.

Well, there are many incarnations of dragons; a benevolent one brings nourishing rains and clement weather, while a malevolent one summons up storms and floods. The current incarnation hiding behind the wall of the Forbidden City is a half-breed, a misguided motley-colored progeny of the great visionary leader, Deng Xiaoping. It tends more towards the benevolent side, with still a lot of dictatorial scales to shed.

But make no mistake about it, this sleeping dragon is still struggling to shake its political, economic and intellectual slumber, still being lulled back to sleep dreaming of past glories and antiquated political traditions and hierarchy. There is this antiquated political tradition such as cronyism and nepotism. The other is what I call a hierarchy of "perpetual elder-ism", a gaggle of old party geezers clinging to the seats of their pants . . . uh . . . the seats of power, wearing diapers. Some of them waddle around in their lakeside villas in Zhongnanhai - an exclusive luxury resort in Beijing, sipping unsustainable, endangered rhinoceros-horn herbal stew-soup to prove their sustainable manhood with their bevies of mistresses (not cost-effective). They burp and fart and sit (again, in their seats of power, wearing diapers) and gaze lazily at their manly collection of elephant-tusk sculptures. Then they doze off dreaming of the good old days of polygamous marriage and a houseful of concubines (more cost-effective) and stumbling toddlers (expenditures accidentally incurred, least cost-effective) in their diapers. You see, these wise old men of communism are naturally born economists, they instinctively grasp the capitalism’s principles of "cost analysis" and the free-market’s law of "economy of scale", without having attended a single lecture in Economics 101. But now I am digressing.

These old folks effectively run the country from behind the dragon throne without term limit (a la U.S. Supreme Court Justices), a pampered gerontocracy (a la U.S. current Supreme Court Justices) on privately-funded bribes . . . uh . . . public-funded pensions. Hey, don’t look at me, I bet the majority of politicians in the U. S., or the world for that matter, cannot tell the difference between a bribe and a pension either. To wit, a la “campaign contributions” in the U.S. Supreme Court’s January 21, 2010 decision on the “Citizens United v. Federal Election Commission” came to mind. These “campaign contributions” are only the tip of the “contribution” iceberg, most of the unseen is under the water, you see. Well, uh . . . actually you don’t . . . uh . . . see . . . per se. To put it the other way, the bulk of the “contributions” is made “under the table”, away from prying eyes, you see. Uh . . . actually you . . . well, forget it . . . Now I am wandering farther afield.

China has made progress, immense strides have been made economically; but its full potential is still lying dormant, its immense pool of talents still lays suppressed and untapped. The lid that caps that potential is the lack of freedom to expression, freedom to pursue one's goals, freedom to make choices. Assuming that 0.001% of any given population can be categorized as geniuses, then 1.36 billion Chinese can potentially produce . . . Well, you can do the math, genius. What great contributions they could provide for the betterment of humanity if given the right environment of freedom and opportunity.

A society under a dictatorial restraint without any democratic outlet is like a dormant volcano simmering underneath; it is a matter of time when it will unleash its pent-up torrent of rage and frustrations. Once it erupts, it will forever change and reshape that political landscape, for better or for worse. At its worst, a radical group may seize power amid the chaos and authority vacuum, and steer the country towards another political extremism.

That volcano has now stirred and rumbled. The democratic movement in Hong Kong to demand a free election had escalated into a full scale civil disobedience, now known as the Umbrella Revolution. The demonstrators took to the streets with nothing but umbrellas to guard against the police's pepper sprays and fire hose jets. The tear gas employed by the police failed to disperse the crowds. As of now, the demonstrator's ranks are still swelling in number.

The Hong Kong government at first mistook the movement as nothing but a crouching paper tiger cub, a bunch of docile school kids seeped in the learning of Confucius ethics, reeking with respect for their elders and fear of authority. As the H. K. officials quickly found out, it turned out to be a full grown live cat with real mean teeth that could really do them some damage. They soon found themselves holding the tiger by the tail, as they muscled in with police in full riot gears. The situation has not yet escalated into climbing onto the tiger's back, they still could let go of the tiger’s tail and scramble up a nearby tree. Then all they need is patience to wait it out, hoping the tiger will eventually go away. Another wrong move they will find themselves riding on the tiger’s back. Well, the tree is not the only thing they need to hold on tight, but also their collective bowels and bladders; for a tiger can smell fear . . . from any reeking . . . uh . . . leaking.

But the situation has not gone away. The HK government, in the person of the chief executive officer, for all practical purpose, is nothing but a puppet, a Pinocchio created by Beijing to show the outside world its political game of smoke screens and mirrors on its version of democracy: one country, two systems. The more you get to know this Pinocchio however, the more his nose seems to grow longer. The puppeteer behind this vaudeville is hiding behind the great wall of the Forbidden City - a dragon growing restless, smoke and spit-fire puffing from its nostrils, its unsheathed talons clawing impatiently against the marble palace floor.

The H.K. chief officer is caught between this crouching tiger ready to pounce and the hidden dragon spewing warning smoke; sooner or later he begins to find his current inaction untenable, some action has to be taken to dissolve the current crisis. Once a crouching tiger roars, others might echo in response, for there are lots of other crouching tigers dotted across the land of Middle Kingdom; Beijing would not want that. His only choice is to put himself further out on the limb, waiting for his chance to drop right onto the tiger’s back while it is circling the tree below. But he is no Wu Song, the bare-fisted, tiger-pummeling hero of one of the famous Chinese romance classic, “The Legend (of the Outlaws) of the Watery Marsh”, also known as “The Water Margin.” It is a Chinese equivalent to the English Robin Hood gang. But he is no Robin Hood either, but has to make do. Sometimes life does imitate art. Once he is on the tiger’s back, there is no turning back. It is either to kill or be killed. He has only just one chance to deliver a fatal blow before being dislodged by the squealing tiger. Afterwards, he will likely skin it as a trophy for his Beijing master and offer it up for public display as a warning atop Tiananmen Gate, for all other crouching tigers to see. This will be the worst case scenario, with this option the world would see the dragon for what it really is, in spite of the smoke screens and mirrors, a malevolent dragon gradually emerging from behind the roiling clouds, amid lightning flashes and rolling thunders, to show its claws and fangs. What will become of China’s economy then?

The pressing question for the HK government is not to see which way is the best way to skin the cat; but rather to look inside its automaton wooden Pinocchio facade to rediscover his human soul and sever his puppeteer's strings. Well, how is he going to do that? He could resign, or he could act with moral courage and side with the Hong Kong people to defy his overlord in Beijing. Sadly, I think most likely he will cling on to his current position (not on the tree) between the crouching tiger and the hidden dragon; eventually he will let loose uncontrollably his pent-up anxiety from time to time and soil his pants (again, not while up on the tree). Then the final question is: how do you deal with the impending dragon’s menace? Just as there are many ways to skin a cat, there are many ways to slay . . . uh . . . fray a dragon. Or all can all go home to drink a couple bowls of rhinoceros-horn soup, fondle their unsustainable elephant-tusk sculptures and sleep on it. Will they turn into a bunch of sleeping beauties, with once promising, but now in . . . uh . . . compromising positions, to last for another hundred years, to be awakened yet again only by another charismatic political prophet, with a socially upheaval kiss? I fervently hope not. China must not once again be screwed royally . . . uh . . . imperially . . . from within . . . by a few snakes masquerading as dragons.


P.S.: Although Deng Xiaping was implicated in the Tiananmen Square protests of 1989, there is no evidence that he issued the direct order for troop intervention. It is now strongly believed that he was overruled by some hardliners in the Sitting . . . uh . . . Standing Committee of the Politburo and some anti-reform individuals in the clique of eight standing . . . uh . . . sitting senior party leaders, known as the “Eight Elders”. Hu Yaobang and Zhao Ziyang, both reformist protégés backed by Deng were removed from power; the former was viewed as an extremist reformer and the latter for backing the demonstration. Later, he confided in then Canadian Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau the he was afraid at that time that the more radical factions in the Communist Party would gain control of some army units and plunged the country into a civil war. Two years later, he promoted Zhu Rongji, the Shanghai mayor who refused to send in troop to crack down on demonstrators in Shanghai, to vice-premier.

D-Day 70th Anniversary Comment

Contrary to his egomaniacal claim, Sadam Hussein did not start the “mother of all wars”, to most of us, it was more like a fight between a boy throwing rocks at a Sherman tank. The “mother of all wars” honor should go to all the allied soldiers who fought to liberate Nazi occupied Europe on the beaches of Normandy seventy years ago today.


That battle changed the course of human history and established a foothold for liberty to flourish in post-war Europe. Hopefully that would be the last of the “mother of all wars”; otherwise the consequences will be too monstrous and incomprehensible to even think about. Humanity, as we know it, and truly our survival as a species, will teeter at the brink of annihilation.

Remembering Nelson Mandela

Unflinching and Unyielding to injustice under oppression and reconciliatory and forgiving towards your oppressors in triumph, those are the two shining guide-lights you brought to that dark world of racism and apartheid. And humanity could have no prouder son to be called "Tata", the father, of the new South Africa "Rainbow Nation".

Thank you for teaching us the virtue of forgiving. In forgiving, one liberates oneself from the oppressive & self-destructive yoke of hatred.

Yet we should never forget. In forgetting, we'll forsake all the lessons learned in vain.

Mr. Mandela.  R. I. P. #RememberNelsonMandela