Into the World:
The Random Thoughts in My Mind

Idealists out there are often adamant about their personal definitions of happiness. Money, they would proselytize, is the ultimate evil. It does not give the beholder any more comfort than the amount of materialistic possessions needed to fill in lonely, empty, sin-filled hearts. As long as the average men have aspired to accumulate great wealth, the major religions of the world have been piously calling for simplicity, to be away from the lures of the seemingly all-powerful cash that have "corrupted" all modern humans. The purported nobility of the idealist should not be doubted (especially since I am one of them in many ways). Yet, the genuineness of those who believe higher income leads to greater happiness also cannot be doubted in any way. And certainly, by following through on their respective dreams, each will certainly lead satisfying and enviable lives that they can proudly brag to anyone else. Both camps ascribe a certain predefined way that can lead to a

I am one of those people who strictly consider themselves to be "men of the people." Growing up in low-income household with little materialistic possessions, I believed that I understood perfectly what it is like to come from the "lower class ." Even as my family's financial conditions grew more stable, I swore by the notion that I will always stand by the proletariat, partially fueled by political beliefs and partially by disgust of rich-world consumerism . But reality often proves me wrong in my naivete. And certainly, my professed knowledge on social classes may have been a bit too shallow up until now. A quick yet quite comprehensive visit to one of the supposed "ghettos" of San Diego yesterday showed me just how much more there is to learn about the world of the low-income populations. It is humbling to see that compared to some of the people who are truly in need of improvements in their livelihoods, just how lucky and how "not l

Preparing for graduate school, I found out the hard way, was not the easiest thing in the world. The flimsy "graduate offer pack" received with the acceptance letters had little more than the most basic information for survival. A brief introduction to the school along with a highly "abstract" campus map, a couple of paragraphs on "how to get accustomed to the new environment," and the dates and meeting place for registration. And that's all. The remaining information, if necessary, was all independent research, starting at the Google homepage. And interestingly enough, after I figured out how to configure my LSE email account, but had a hard time accessing it from my computer, it literally took four days for the IT staff over in London to get back to me via email. Although I am getting used to inefficient BS after dealing with the British visa agencies , the slow response, whether deliberate or properly designed, will definitely force every si

This blog is about criticism. I have spent probably more than half of the blog scolding Japan to the very details of her people's attitude and daily life . At the same time, I have not forgotten to keep up a constant rate of fire on the often politically originated indecencies of Chinese mentalities . And do not even get me started on America. The arrogant attitudes of the American people is and will always be a subject of constant scorn. Add a few criticisms of the countries that I have briefly traveled to and even briefly lived and worked in , and out comes the perhaps the darkest, most unfriendly sounding blog on the entire cyberspace. Many a faithful reader has questioned whether the incessant criticism really means something. As I mentioned from the very beginning of the blog's existence , I intend the blog to be something of a personal diary, a forum for my thought to be jotted down, along the same lines as wherever my mind decide to land at those very momen

My parents love to watch Chinese war dramas. The dramas all invariably depict poor Chinese farmer-turned-militiamen fighting relentlessly against the immoral, arrogant Japanese invaders. Shouting patriotic messages of the freeing the country from foreign domination, the Chinese militiamen use various sabotage tactics and mind games to win struggles of attrition against the otherwise dimwitted-looking Japanese. Sometimes a few heroes die of dramatic deaths, but at the end, the established formula always fate the Japanese aggressors with devastating, unrecoverable blows. And my parents are not alone in their hobby. Such war dramas still constitute a large portion of domestic productions in China every year, even more than six decades after the end of the events they portray. And the continued production, above their propagandist value of showcase for patriotism and devotion to the Communist Party , actually makes economic sense. When asked about the reason for continued producti

The cobbler quietly worked on the dress shoes, right before my mesmerized eyes. He put glue into the sides of the shoes that were opening up, pounded in mails to the bottom to keep the glue in place, applied new bottoms to hide the nails, and finally polished the shoes to give them a brand-new shine. All this happening within 30minutes for equivalent of 20 US dollars in a shipping container-turned-personal workshop placed smack on the sidewalk of the busiest financial street in all of Seoul. After admiring Asia's superb public transportation system as well as cost-efficient and convenient compactness of her urban areas , the lingering existence of many traditional service professions in Asian cities also becomes a phenomenon worth a few words of praise. While the likes of such humble shoe cobbler can be rarely seen on the streets of the US, in Asia they continue to provide their, indeed, still popularly used, services to the general populace. But, alas, as Western conce