The Brain Dump

Hello, all. Sorry for the hiatus. We lost our internet last Doodle Day, and then Christmas spooged all over us and I didn't find the time to keep up with the ol' blog. But that hubbub is over. Christina and I put together a Christmas photo album on my snapfish account, found here (room code = chinaphotos).

This Pic o' the Week comes from Boxing Day, the day when all of the foreign teachers (and their assorted better halves) could get together and exchange a Secret Santa gift. Christina got a very nice comb. I got two sets (his and hers) of travel-sized chopsticks, fork, and spoon. And a giant lollipop.

My New Zealand friend, Robert, introduced me to something of a gem on the intertubes: The BEAST: America's Best Fiend--a political satire website that is unapologetically liberal and scathing in its derision for stupidity and greed. How unapologetic are they? Here's #32 on their list of "50 Most Loathsome People in America, 2007":

The Founding Fathers

Charges: Lionized as moral pillars and demigods ad nauseam without the slightest hint of irony. Can't be judged by today's standards. Electoral College? Dumb fucking idea. Invoked by every asshole in the last two hundred years to support every stupid idea ever. The original liberal elite. Able to withstand lightning strikes and the British military; unable to fathom poor people voting.

Exhibit A: Owned wigs, Africans.

Sentence: Depicted as cartoons on rapidly devaluing currency; beaten at effective democracy by former monarchies.

Yowza! And I love it. This Pic o' the Week is from the very same article, a man whose name is enough to get my blood a-boiling:

23. Bill O'Reilly

Charges: If judgmentalism were sugar, anyone in the same city as this paragon of intellectual overconfidence would lose their teeth within five minutes. O'Reilly is everything that's wrong with America: Won't ever admit he was wrong about anything (and will lie repeatedly rather than correct himself), accuses all who disagree with him of treason or insanity, attacks all who criticize him, and glories in his own troglodytic bluster. Anoints himself an authority on morals, despite common knowledge that he is a sexual harasser. Pretends to be an "independent" who just happens to look, sound, and act exactly like a Republican. Hasn't engaged in a valid exchange of ideas in his entire career, because he knows he'd be crushed in seconds by an average college freshman. O'Reilly wins by interrupting, shouting, and if all else fails, cutting off his opponent's microphone. A tiny, scared child of a man.

Exhibit A: "And this is what white America doesn't know, particularly people who don't have a lot of interaction with black Americans. They think that the culture is dominated by Twista, Ludacris, and Snoop Dogg." Gee Bill, where would they get that idea?

Sentence: Marinated, barbecued, and served at Sylvia's restaurant in Harlem, where the blacks eat just like real people.

So, I began giving my final exams this week. Each student had the option of choosing to do a speech (by themselves), a debate (in two teams), or a short sketch (in groups). I then assess them based on their:

1) Creativity
2) Understanding of the topic
3) Expressed feelings and recitation
4) Vocabulary
5) Grammar and syntax

Those are my nebulous and extremely subjective parameters to determine a one hundred point grade. Only a mere two and a half weeks ago, I was relishing the academic demise of several students, but now that it's here I'm filled more with much more empathy than I thought I would be. Some of these students are just so pathetic.

There was one guy, for instance--he stumbled through his speech (on, ironically, how to better one's English), until he final hit a wall, stuttering the same sentence fragment at least eight times before he finally just slumped back to his seat. I thought it would be easy to deal the decisive grade, like a swift, clean knife to the throat, but . . . god, I can't help pitying them.

Not that they're getting off the hook. Not by any means. One girl today asked me in all seriousness after everyone in her class (by far my worst one) had finished their speeches, "Can everyone pass?" I looked at her, thinking for a few seconds, trying to find a diplomatic way of telling her that it was much more likely that about half the students would be passing. I settled, instead, on a simple, "No."

I'm telling myself that it wasn't me that failed them (as a teacher). I'm not sure how much I believe it. Every time I do, there's that idealist guerrilla warrior, spreading propaganda leaflets saying that, if I'd only tried harder to find a way to reach them, they all would be fluent by now. That is not true. I know how hard I worked; I know dismissive, how utterly disinterested they were in anything I tried to get them to talk about. I know this. But, goddamn, those leaflets are compelling.

The whole structure of the class certainly doesn't help. No, it doesn't help that the only tangible objective of the class was to get them talking. It doesn't help that they didn't actually have to learn any of the topics we talked about. It doesn't help that class participation--the aforementioned in-class talking--only counts for a piddly twenty percent of their final grade; whereas the final exam counts for the remaining eighty. And it really doesn't help that passing oral English is not required to earn a degree.

But I'm focusing on the negatives. There are many positives. The vast majority of my students will pass easily. In fact, every student in the class directly prior to my worst one will pass with a C or higher. These are the students on the "old campus." The "bad" ones. The ones who didn't score as well on the university entrance exam, and so were damned to poorly maintained and very, very old facilities. These are the same students that can talk circles around most of my "new campus" students. But they only got one chance to determine their next four to five years of education.

Sigh . . . all this and I may have to teach many of the same students next semester. . . .

Schadenfreude, you fickle, fickle whore.

This song is a hypodermic needle of happy right to the temple.

Even with those other Deutsche Marks. . . .

Here we go again . . . on our own . . . :

Monday

快 - kuai4 (lump, clod; a measure for dollars)
相 - xiang1 (mutually, each other), xiang4 (face, appearance; to examine)
想 - xiang3 (to think)
得 - dei3 (must), de2 (to get), de (a grammatical particle)
共 - gong4 (all together, collectively, joint)
尢 - you2 (still more; a family name)
就 - jiu4 (then; only; to go to; to go with)

Tuesday

历 - [no pronunciation] (radical 22); This is just the top and left slope-y part
历 - li4 (to pass through, to experience; calendar)
后 - hou4 (back, in back of)
直 - zhi2 (be straight; to keep on; be a certain length)
真 - zhen1 (be real, be true; truly)
歹 - dai3 (chip)
现 - xian4 (present, now)

Wednesday

在 - zai4 (be at, in, on); "现在" means "now"
食 - shi2 (food; to eat)
两 - liang3 (two; a tael [ancient unit of weight equaling 50 grams])
俩 - lia3 ([colloquial] two; some, several)
车 - che1 (car; family name)
辆 - liang4 (a measure for vehicles)
反 - fan3 (to turn back; to rebel)

Thursday

饭 - fan4 (cooked rice, food)
板 - ban3 (board; printing plate; a measure for editions; be "wooden" [lifeless])
片 - pian4 (slice, to slice, piece; an expanse), pian4, pian1 (card)
糖 - tang2 (sugar, candy); A very important doodle. . . .
话 - hua4 (speech, language)
舍 - she4 (home), she3 (to give up, to give charity)
事 - shi4 (affair, event)

Friday

歌 - ge1 (song)
各 - [no pronunciation] (follow/slow radical 65); Just the top part (not the box)
各 - ge4 (each; various)
客 - ke4 (guest)
乞 - [no pronunciation] ("top of 每 radical"); Just the top part
吃 - chi1 (to eat)
兴 - xing4 (happy), xing1 (to begin; family name)

Christmas, it would seem, is growing in popularity here in doodleland, especially among the younger generation. Christina's and my students were certainly at their most excited when babbled Christmas nonsense at them. They also enjoyed singing Christmas carols--though that could have just been my awesomeness with a guitar that held them in rapture. . . .

Well. It's finally beginning to feel a little like Christmas, at least to me. And it's not the random stores that have a string of Christmas lights or gaudy portraits of St. Nick. Rather, it is this week's Pic o' the Week:

I have entered a new phase of awesome in my life. Before now, I had to rely on other people to figure out songs so I could look them up, unless they were ridiculously simple. But today, yes--this day!--I figured out my first pop song! It was a Chinese song, which was really the reason I had to figure it out on my own, as finding chords for doodle songs . . . wasn't happening. This is pretty exciting for me, even if it is a pathetically simple victory. I'm really proud of myself anyway. . . .

And since I'm so proud of myself, I thought I would share my awesomeness with you, along with a translation of the pop-a-licious lyrics as best as I can translate/look up. I have created a new category on my blog in the hope that I will continue to figure out songs for myself. I guarantee no kind of regularity. But without further ado . . . I give you:

Super Star, by S.H.E

Intro Riff
e-------------------------------------
B-------------------------------------
G-------------11--9--11--9------------
D----9h12—9h12--------------12--7--9--
A-------------------------------------
E-------------------------------------

B . . . D . . . B . . . D
B . . . D . . . A . . . F#m

B . . . . . D . . . .B . . . . . . . . . .D
Smile! Just extol, a frown would break my heart
G . . . . . . . . . . . . .A . . . G . . . . . . . . . . . A F#m
I have no time to care for myself, only to experience your feelings
B . . . . . . . .D . . .B . . . . D
You must take my spirit where you go
G . . .A . . . . . . . . G . . . . . A F#m
It was crazy for you, so what is the point [of keeping it]?

. . . . B . . . . . . . . . .D . . . . . . .B . . . D
You are electricity, you are light, you are my only mythology
B . . .D . . . . A . . . . . . . .F#m
I only love you, you are my super star
B . . . . . . D . . . . . . . .B . . . . . .D
You dominate, I worship, there is no better way [to do something]
B . . . . .D . . . . A . . . . . . . .F#m
I can only love you, you are my super star

B . . .

B . . . . . . . . .D . . . . . . B . . .D
This hand is not a hand, it is a tender universe
. G . . . . . . .A . . . . . G . . . . . . .A F#m
I am this little planet that orbits in your palm
B . . . . . . D . . . .B . . . . . . .D
Please notice me and allow me to have dreams
. . . .G . . . . A . . . . . . . .G . . . . . . . A F#m
I have developed madness for you, you must reward me

. . . . B . . . . . . . . . .D . . . . . . .B . . . D
You are electricity, you are light, you are my only mythology
B . . .D . . . . A . . . . . . . .F#m
I only love you, you are my super star
B . . . . . . D . . . . . . . .B . . . . . .D
You dominate, I worship, there is no better way [to do something]
B . . . . .D . . . . A . . . . . . . .F#m
I can only love you, you are my super star

G . A . . . F#m .B A
You are meaning
G . A . . . . . F#m . .B . . A
You are heaven, earth, God’s decree
G . . . . .A . . . . . C . . . . D .E
Except for my love for you there is no truth

[Fingerpick]*
B . . . . . . D . . . . . . .B . . . . . . . . . . . D
Fire, you are fire, I am the moth that flies to that end
. .G . . . A . . . . . G . . . . . . . A
No wish to escape, why should I ask to escape?
. . . B . . . . . . . . . D . . B . . . . . . . . . D
Thank you for giving me a happy segment of sleepwalking
. . . .G . . . . . . . . . A . . . . . . . . G . . . . . . . . . .A
In the event that I forget myself, do me the favor of remembering me

. . . . B . . . . . . . . . .D . . . . . . .B . . . D
You are electricity, you are light, you are my only mythology
B . . .D . . . . A . . . . . . . .F#m
I only love you, you are my super star
B . . . . . . D . . . . . . . .B . . . . . .D
You dominate, I worship, there is no better way [to do something]
B . . . . .D . . . . A . . . . . . . .F#m
I can only love you, you are my super star
. . . . B . . . . . . . . . .D . . . . . . .B . . . D
You are electricity, you are light, you are my only mythology
B . . .D . . . . A . . . . . . . .F#m
I only love you, you are my super star
B . . . . . . D . . . . . . . .B . . . . . .D
You dominate, I worship, there is no better way [to do something]
B . . . . .D . . . . A . . . . . . . .F#m .B
I can only love you, you are my super star boy


*Fingerpicking Pattern:
. B . . . . . .D . . . . . . B . . . . . .D
e-------------------------------------------------------
B------12------------15-----------12------------15------
G---11----11------14----14-----11----11------14----14---
D-9------------12------------9------------12------------
A-------------------------------------------------------
E-------------------------------------------------------

. G . . . . . .A . . . . . . G . . . . . .A
e-------------------------------------------------------
B------8-------------10-----------8---------------------
G---7-----7-------9-----9------7-----7------------------
D-5------------7-------------5------------7-------------
A-------------------------------------------------------
E-------------------------------------------------------

So . . . I've been wrestling with two things in my brain, trying to make them somehow cohere, and it just isn't working.

America seems to hold up two irreconcilable ideals when it comes to material goods. On the one hand, we know that wasteful spending is bad. One should not indulge in too many physical things, lest ye get greedy, attached to your objects and the worth you put into them. On the other hand, we have high government officials telling us that if we don't trample more people at Wal-Mart then our economy will collapse into a black hole and suck the poor United States into oblivion. . . .

It's either one or the other, guys . . . I can't do both.

I think the "trample" solution distresses me more. I don't know if any of you remember this, but I have a very clear picture of George W. Bush shortly after 9/11 telling the citizens of America that the best way they could help after the attack was to go on a shopping spree. I remember thinking then that that was kind of a perverse way to push consumerism. Now we have the recession. And either I'm gonna max out my credit card or witness the economic fall of civilization.

Now, I am by no means anti-materialist or -consumerist or -whatever, but I draw the line when I'm supposed to care how much money friggin' Wal-Mart is making. Isn't this be the "free market" telling us that we shouldn't rest our monetary future on worthless bullshit for everyday low prices . . . that was probably made in China, which is how those everyday low prices are possible?

Somewhere deep inside of me there's a Luddite who hopes our economy will teach us a lesson or two . . . but every time he tries to speak up he gets beaten down by the other, much larger part of me, who will cut the sucker that tries to take my intertubes away!

Sigh . . . economies blow. . . .

Another week, another set of doodles. Here we go:

Monday

嗽 - sou4 (second syllable of "ke2sou4, "cough")
学 - xue2 (to study, to learn)
姓 - xing4 (surname/to be surnamed . . .)
名 - ming2 (name)
字 - zi4 (written character)
叫 - jiao4 (to call; to be called; to order a person to do something)
牛 - niu2 (cow)

Tuesday

告 - gao4 (to inform)
斤 - jin2 (ax)
诉 - su4, song4 (to inform); Evidently, you're supposed to use this one together with 告 to form "告诉," which means "to inform"
知 - zhi1 (to know)
首 - shou3 (chief; the head)
道 - dao4 (road; to say; the Way [as in Taoism/Daoism])
些 - xie1 (few)

Wednesday

位 - wei4 (position, standpoint; seat; a polite measure for persons)
支 - zhi1 (branch [of a tree]; to prop up; to draw [money])
技 - ji4 (skill; expertise or specialized training)
千 - qian1 (a thousand; a family name [rare])
英 - ying1 (be bold; flower [bookish]; a family name)
黑 - hei1 (black)
占 - zhan1 (to divine), zhan4 (seize; constitute)

Thursday

站 - zhan4 ([taxi-/bus-]stand, to stand)
店 - yan3 (lean-to), guang3 (be broad; a family name); This one is actually just the top dot and the top and left lines (without the "占")
店 - dian4 (store; inn)
点 - dian3 (dot, drop [of liquid]; to drip; a bit; feature; to light)
雨 - yu3 (rain)
零 - ling2 (zero; tiny bit)
页 - ye4 (head; leaf [of a book or notebook], page)

Friday

齿 - ling3 (to lead; neck, collar; main point)
半 - ban4 (half)
多 - duo1 (be numerous)
少 - shao3 (be few), shao4 (be young)
句 - ju4 (sentence; verse-line; measure for sentences and verse-lines)
够 - gou4 (be enough)
夬 - jue1 (archer's thimble), guai4 (to divide)

Christina and I went to a newly opened supermarket down the street and, once there, I was captivated by an advertisement. Majestic skies . . . soaring mountains . . . it was an advertisement for none other than Tibetan Dry Cabernet Sauvignon Dry Red Wine.

Yes, Tibetan Dry: A Chinese wine that doesn't taste like cough syrup.

I had to have a bottle. Nevermind what it tasted like--the name alone sold me. Wouldn't you know it, it also turned out to be pretty tasty. And, when I say tasty, I mean it doesn't cause instant retching upon contact with one's tongue.

Tibetan Dry: Wine so good, you wouldn't give them independence either.

It's also pretty cheap--sixty-eight yuan a bottle. That comes to about . . . ten dollars, which is really nice since all the imported wines (including Arbor Mist) go well over a hundred for a decent bottle.

Tibetan Dry: Oppressively good.

So Christina and I are pretty stoked about that. Now it's about time to curl up on the couch, huddled close to each other and the space heater, a glass of Tibetan Dry in our hands, and watch a few episodes of Faulty Towers, borrowed from our New Zealand friend, Robert. Ahhhhh, life can be pretty good sometimes.