Into the World:
The Random Thoughts in My Mind

"by the way, I was reading your blog the other day, and you say..." the interviewer, whom I met for the very first time a little more than an hour ago, inserted the comment in the most casual fashion as he went on to question my view toward Asia's economic future. As calmly as I received the statement as nothing but the continuation of the discussion we have been having for a while now to gauge my background and interest for the job, I cannot help but be slightly surprised. This blog, as the product of my pure hobby of opinionated writing , for all its apparent bias, lack of formal structure, and full of grammatical errors, have become taken so seriously as to become a part of judgmental criteria for who I am, how I think, and what my views are toward contemporary issues across the world and around my daily life. For something that is openly accessible and searchable on the Internet, I suppose for complete strangers to access its content is no doubt unavoidable. But, a

One moment, my characteristic blue backpack was beneath my feet at its usual position, and then next second it disappears into the thin air, never to be seen again. The gigantic poster in front of the busy pub warning customers about thieves lurking within the busy Friday night crowd just became a reality, this time, for me. Drunken, and surrounded by drunken friends in London suddenly did not feel so well for the normally happy crowd, as they suddenly became fearful of who is the next victim... Frankly, despite all the justifiable anger the victim is entitled to, the fault is completely the victim's. Drunkenness (and friends' drunkenness) is by no means a valid excuse to let down one's guard and decrease the usual level of vigilance, so needed here in Europe, toward to otherwise innocent-looking strangers . But while greater vigilance by everyone may indeed lead to actual decrease in successful thefts, perhaps the possibility, the potential, and the number of theft at

Two Chinese grad students from LSE walked into a half-empty Chinese restaurant in the middle of the equally empty London Chinatown, looking for a quick late-night meal over a casual conversation in Chinese. The restaurant has about two dozen big round tables in a bright-lit atmosphere. Three or four groups of white people were having loud conversations in English over their meals and a few drinks. The two LSE students, seemingly the only Chinese customers at that time, were shooed by the waiters speaking heavily accented English to a small square table in the poorly lit back corner of the dining, skipping past many better tables closer to the entrance. Perhaps less than a couple of minutes after sitting down, the Chinese were immediately compelled to place their orders for food and drinks. After the food arrived, the staff of the restaurant came to check on our "progress" many times, and as soon as we were done, our table was cleaned and complimentary desserts presented.

"I remember those days when we were just playing around in the little stream around our house...there were no pollution, no social pressures, no corruptions...sure, we were poor, but everyone was really happy because everyone was equally poor ..." Speaking with the likes of my parents' generation, spending their childhood in the pre-economic reform, pre-Cultural Revolution mainland China, these are the kind of nostalgic thoughts that are often fondly remember and recall. The younger generations, too used to being surrounded by hardly comparable materialistic wealth , quietly react to such fanciful descriptions with scoff.

On a standard Sunday afternoon, the sidewalk on the Westminster Bridge simply becomes invisible. The massive hordes of tourists, of every skin color and speaking every language under the sun, spill onto the bridge, their camera clicking away at the sights of the Big Ben and the Parliament on side, and the massive wheel that is the London Eye on the other. Peddlers dressed up as British loyalty pose for pictures with the delighted tourists, while right there on the bridge, the visitor can purchase anything from an ice cream cone to a little gamble on the which-of-the-three-boxes-has-the-ball game. Yet, such sight of London as the cosmopolitan destination of global tourism is but another five-minute stop on the self-guided walking tour of the entire city. West from the modern skyscraper district of Canary Wharf and historical heart of the the Tower Bridge and its adjacent medieval castle, to the east with the underwhelming sight of the Buckingham Palace and its changing guards, seeing

The gap that separates a globally known superstar and the endless queue of nobodies waiting to get their shot at fame, in professional sports at least, is a matter of a few stellar performances dished out in the most unexpected way. The "unexpected" factor goes up further if the amazing performances come from those who are least expected to make those amazing performances. And for the minimally perceptive public to list those with the least likelihood to "make it big," it rarely takes more than a few stereotype-based "criteria." As far as basketball, a sport requiring physical explosiveness and agility, not to mention height, physical appearance by itself is enough to make certain predictions regarding potential success. The easiest of those "physical appearance" classification is race, by which East Asians, with statistically proven lowest average height, not to mention worst records for every sport and activity testing endurance and speed, w