Never realized how much of that stuff was utterly disposable. No wonder
I wasn't particular rebellious as a teenager. How was I suppose to
identitfy with something so sucky. Go fuck yourself Smashmouth.
What’s important when you are in that hedge fund mode is to not do anything remotely truthful, because the truth is so against your view, that it’s important to create a new truth, to develop a fiction.
- Jim Cramer
It's always been a disadvantage to be the minority voice. Macau is
dominated culturally by the near by British Hong Kong. In elementry
school, I learned English instead of Portugese (Cantonese, of course, as
the primary language.)
I do feel a certain amount of regret; we had a fairly different colonial
experience than the Hong Kongnese. The cultural fusion was less, but
somethings were more common place.
In this little bakery, all the food items were familiar to me, but I
don't have the language to express them. There is the little shred
tarts. There are the custard-filled, twisty danish. They have the those
hard baked rolls -- in cantonese called "piglet-shaped buns." And my
favorite, the deep fried salted cod balls. I could barely order them
since I don't know their names. But the taste of them are some of my
earliest recollections.
What must be, must be.
Heaven only knows,
Cause I don't understand.
K-OS
So read this book I took out from the library.
Great intro to the futres market as a leading indicator to the market.
I don't fully understand it all, but I know it doesn't get easier than
this. The book doesn't seem to have much editing done beyond the usual
spell and grammar check.
Half-way through already.
I parked in an alleyway. I was shutting off the ignition when a woman
came up to my car. She was intoxicated. She looked over sand said, "hey,
don't you work over at the grocery store?" I said no.
She asked, "where do you work? I mean, I am just curious, wanted to
know."
I work in the other side of town, I told her. I was getting
uncomfortable as she slowly leans down against the sill of the car door
and asked "Do you want company tonight?"
I did not fully register what she was asking until she looked at me and
waited for a response. Then my mind blanked out. Uhm, I said.
"I guess you don't want anything, not right now."
I said, no.
She paused, then asked, "Do you have a dollar I can borrow?"
I told her no.
She opens my car door for me, and said "have a nice day!"
I thanked her, locked the car, and walked off.
Nothing in the world has an right to exist or to UN-exist.
The Canada that I see on the world stage is the reflection of its people: a diligent worker, a cooperative neighbour, a courageous warrior, a compassionate helper, a loyal friend.
Canadians in the broad middle – Canadians who were for far too long invisible and overlooked by the political process.
All you have to remember is this: Conservative forward, Liberal back.
I recommend it to anyone who want a beginner's guide to pricing
equities. The main advantage is that the author consulted some academic
sources. Topics such as technical analysis (voodoo), fundemental
analysis (Buffet Watch), Modern Porfolio Theory (Greek for geeks), and
chaos theory (butterflys).
I didn't like the fact that the author sometimes goes on long tangents
unrelated to the topic. He has a complete obsession to the WorldCom
stocks he lost a bunch of money on -- in fact the book is almost an
elegy to his WorldCom losses. He also had a bunch of random stuff that a
better editor should have greened. He devoted several pages to an
imaginary moviescript he wanted to write about a mathematician turned
con artist. The reader is also privy to his personal life: he lied to
his wife about money, he buys books at Borders and invests with Swzarb.
In either case, a good primer, if it weren't so random.
56 dolls, each dressed in the traditional costume of the groups of
China. The Hans, the old hundred last names, (like myself) consists of
92% of the population. The remaining 8% consist of the various peoples
my Han ancestors conquered and subjugated.
Statistics and history is available:
http://www.c-c-c.org/chineseculture/minority/minority.html
I woke up this morning completely dehydriated. Had some Gatorade and
couldn't get back to sleep. Turned on the TV and saw that Teenage Mutant
Ninja Turtles was on. Whoo!
Then I watched a new episode of Fashion Files. Apparent Romantic, Art
Nouveaux (Romantic derivative), metallic clothing, and Moonraker are in.
Showed the LV, Boss and Oscar De La Renta Spring/Summer.
I am not impressed with Marc Jacobs. The LV line is so-so. Then he tried
to be edgy by having the models carry those tri-colour twill bags that
are often used by homeless people. Except they looked really new and
seem (at least on camera) to have a very fine finish. Who know? Maybe
available soon at LV store near you.
The Boss men's collections were both typically Hugo, bold, shiny, and
anemic. I always like the way some Boss jackets fit on me, but they just
never seem that haute. Like, Boss is an almost-brand.
I always like bold colours. Oscar De La Renta was very vivid. I like the
look, floral prints on white, royal blue silk. However, I can never find
anyone aside from the amazing latino models that can pull it off.
One of the commentators were telling women that they should consider
metallic dresses to be an investment, since "they never go out and last
forever." I guess I'l be investing in some chainmail this season.
After Fashion Files, I watched Avata: the Last Airbender. I have seen it
before and slotted it as a great, light pseudo-anime. This episode,
Tales of Ba Sing Se, completely changed my mind. It was very tightly
written. Filled with pauses. It was a series of unrelated vignettes of
the major characters in the city of Ba Sing Se.
The best was Tale of Iroh, which itself was composed of vignettes. They
seem like a series of unrelated activities of a happy old man, out on a
nice day. Each are more humorous than the last, but are all related
thematically with a elegiac ending.
I am impressed. I think it was only a few minutes long, but expressed
beautifully, what it intended to convey. Symbols, of putting a Moon
Flower in the shade so it may bloom. A marching song sung as a lulaby.
The repetition of a well-worn adage, followed by its reversal. I don't
know if I necessarily agree with its msg, but it was well-written.
Anywho, I think I may go and buy a Nehru jacket today. Here's to Roger
Moore!
If he is elected premier, Parti Québécois Leader André Boisclair says he will amend Quebec's electoral law to make it impossible for veil-wearing Muslim women to vote without showing their faces to identify themselves.
samchiunlao: define kohl
SmarterChild:
kohl:
Noun
A cosmetic preparation, such as powdered antimony sulfide, used especially in the Middle East to darken the rims of the eyelids.
EtymologyArabic ku*l, powder of antimony, kohl; see k*l in Semitic roots.
Because it isn't a recycling bin, it's a book return box.
Libraries typically have the problem where users often want to be
helpful and put things back where they find them. Except that many don't
do it quite exactly right.
Since nobody can track where a item is after it has been improperly
shelfed, nobody can find that item upon the request of another patron.
Many libraries have placed signs asking users to leave the books the
tables or have bins for users to dropoff books they have finished during
in-library use.
The TPL branch at Don Mills is following in this trend. Unfortunately,
they decided to use old recycling bins. While ideally, everybody should
read the signs, most people are familiar with the shape and design to
instinctively use it as a recycling bin.
The library had about 7-8 of these and I noticed that only a few had
books in them. The rest were filled with complete recyclable paper.
This snowfall, I hope is the last of the season.
I remember when I was younger the joys I had walking down the street hand-in-hand with a lover. We'd push and heave along Yonge, then in a moment's passion drag ourselves into the many secluded sideroads and alleys. Sometimes, it is just a kiss. Other times, it was innocent, adolescent gropings.
I really hate them. All overstuff with heavy prose.
It must be my some kind of guilty pleasure. Some women have Harry
Potter, others have Harlequine novels, I have brooding, anemic starving
artists.
Fuck.
Fuck. The place is like time out of time. All lost in the rustbelt era
of the 80's. Punks and hobos run around in torn army jackets and black
tight jeans. Faded technocolor building stumped the streets. Lots of
people with pretty, vacant eyes watching the cars go by, and sitting
there and not moving.
Almost got into a couple of "accidents."
One man refused to believe in the reality of my 2500lbs car moving at 60
km/h. He waited patently until his light turn red and the proceeded to
cross the road with his two bright, yellow grocery bags. I waved, I
rev'ed my engines, I honked, I even sped up. But he decided what buddha
decided a long time ago: the material world is an illusion. So he kept
on walking into the path of my car. Missed him by a couple of inches as
I swerve into the opposite lane, which was luckily unoccupid.
Another man in his black spandex shirt, black speedo, and iPod decided
that he was the Man of Steel. Faster than a speeding bullet, and of
course, impervious to a puny automobile. Jumped in front of my car, then
looked disdainly at my efforts to reduce speed. "Why do you bother?" his
half-opened eyes, brimming with sadness and infinite charity to
insignificant humanity, "my super human physique can easily dodge your
vehicle and the skintight, invisible barrier around my body shall
protect me and my pitch black speedo." He looks away, changes the track
on his iPod and leaps off to more adventures.
The photo shows the weird state of the Westside. I wish I could take
more pictures, but it was too backlit everywhere.
I mean, who drives a pickup? have they seen the gas prices lately?
But then, everybody drives a pickup. All along the Trans-Canada, in all
the little villages, people need these kind of vehicles.
But in city, they are almost a tourist attraction on account of their
rarity.
[T]here is nothing more difficult to take in hand, more perilous to conduct, or more uncertain in its success, than to take the lead in the introduction of a new order of things. Because the innovator has for enemies all those who have done well under the old conditions, and lukewarm defenders in those who may do well under the new. This coolness arises partly from fear of the opponents, who have the laws on their side, and partly from the incredulity of men, who do not readily believe in new things until they have had a long experience of them.
Thus it happens that whenever those who are hostile have the opportunity to attack they do it like partisans, whilst the others defend lukewarmly, in such wise that the prince is endangered along with them.
... the nature of the people is variable, and whilst it is easy to persuade them, it is difficult to fix them in that persuasion. And thus it is necessary to take such measures that, when they believe no longer, it may be possible to make them believe by force.
[t]here are three courses for those who wish to hold them: the first is to ruin them, the next is to reside there in person, the third is to permit them to live under their own laws, drawing a tribute, and establishing within it an oligarchy which will keep it friendly to you. Because such a government, being created by the prince, knows that it cannot stand without his friendship and interest, and does its utmost to support him; and therefore he who would keep a city accustomed to freedom will hold it more easily by the means of its own citizens than in any other way.
