I'm leaving tomorrow evening for Reno. I'll only be there 24 hours, just long enough to hit a jackpot on a slot machine, win a suspiciously large amount at the blackjack tables (i can't count cards in my head but I do have a palm pilot), or play out an even bigger gamble: getting voters to the polls.
It's not so much a gamble, really. The donkeys always benefit from high voter turnout. Just that one little fact makes me so frustrated. Why is it such a struggle, election after election, to get that demographic to the polls whose lives are most vulnerable to the vicissitudes of office-holding, and whose votes have the power to swing worse to bad and back again? This is a sleeping dragon that never wakes, and only occasionally switches its tail at a particularly irritating fly. Let's hope Bush is sufficiently irritating.
Back to the happy: the brilliant young 'uns today who have been roused by our near-fascist regime to organize in new and brilliant ways have shown those of us with small political imaginations that we don't have to sit around in our solidly blue states, in our lefty towns, twiddling our thumbs and dreaming of a Californian secession. We can actually (legally!) cross state lines and talk to those people in swing states we're so disconnnected from and (in my case) so afraid of. There's a swing state within a five hour drive or a three hour flight of almost anywhere in the continental United States. So think about calling in sick on Tuesday, and spending the day fighting the good fight. Maybe you'll feel less helpless. I know I do, and I'm not even there yet.
This week I'm volunteering with a group called Driving Votes, who still need lotsa cars and drivers to go to swing states on Monday and Tuesday to drive people to the polls. The org is focusing on Portland, Oregon; Reno; Las Vegas; Albuquerque; Kansas City; Madison; Cleveland; Youngstown, Ohio; Martinsburg, West Virginia; Philadelphia; Manchester, New Hampshire; and Orlando. Check 'em out tonight, they're still taking volunteers!
If you wanna get with the program APA-stylee, check out the coalition of APAs for Kerry who are also organizing volunteer groups to go to swing states. Their target states are Washington, Oregon, Nevada, Minnesota, Michigan, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Florida. You don't have to be for Kerry to work with a partisan group, since all these groups are doing is GETTING OUT THE VOTE. Plus, you'll be with your homepersons.
If you need extra incentive to get your booty swingin' (or swing statin'), just think on this: in an election as close as this one could be, the tiny voting percentage of new, immigrant voters, who don't vote predictably or in a bloc, could make all the difference. No matter what your party affiliation, getting those new voters to the polls, and getting them in the habit both of voting and of giving their loyalty (or not) to a particular party, can mean planting the grass root for an ethnic or demographic voting bloc that can be swung next time, or the time after that.
And if that's not enough, new voters, especially immigrants, are particularly vulnerable to intimidation from volunteers the elephants are organizing to go to the polls and challenge new voters. Your presence at the polls could be the difference between a new citizen voting, and a new citizen being scared away from the polls, possibly forever. What can you do about it? E-Z, Sneezy. If you're a lawyer or a law student especially, but even if you're not, volunteer on election day to go to vulnerable polling places and monitor the polls. You'll be a resource to vulnerable voters and you'll get the warm fuzzies as well. By the way, the other danger, i.e. Florida 2000-style shenanigans, has already reared its Texan head. I didn't know the extent of the shenanigans until recently, but there's plenty of independent online press about it now, so have a look.
In closing: while I love all the little DIY efforts to mock Bush and support voters, what is up with filmmaker Timothy Bui and his cohorts' website selling t-shirts against Bush? The logo reads "No Bush! We like it shaved" and features the silhouette of a naked woman pumping her fist in the air. The website includes a photo page dedicated mostly to women striking sexy poses in the too-tight t-shirts, showing off their breasts, licking lollipops and, in one instance, stroking the crotch of one of the tough hipster-looking guys. "The red star represents a movement that is spreading in all directions and the female pumping her fist into the sky symbolizes power to the people. The slogan, well... that speaks for itself," reads the site's only comment on the proceedings. The female what pumping her fist into the air? My people call female humans "women." If this site is intended to get that all-important Hooters demographic to the polls, well ... more power to ya, I guess. I just tend to get a little scrunchy when bad writers locate the problem of neo-conservatism in my pubic hair. But that's just me.
Posted by claire at 2:51 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
I'm leaving tomorrow evening for Reno. I'll only be there 24 hours, just long enough to hit a jackpot on a slot machine, win a suspiciously large amount at the blackjack tables (i can't count cards in my head but I do have a palm pilot), or play out an even bigger gamble: getting voters to the polls.
It's not so much a gamble, really. The donkeys always benefit from high voter turnout. Just that one little fact makes me so frustrated. Why is it such a struggle, election after election, to get that demographic to the polls whose lives are most vulnerable to the vicissitudes of office-holding, and whose votes have the power to swing worse to bad and back again? This is a sleeping dragon that never wakes, and only occasionally switches its tail at a particularly irritating fly. Let's hope Bush is sufficiently irritating.
Back to the happy: the brilliant young 'uns today who have been roused by our near-fascist regime to organize in new and brilliant ways have shown those of us with small political imaginations that we don't have to sit around in our solidly blue states, in our lefty towns, twiddling our thumbs and dreaming of a Californian secession. We can actually (legally!) cross state lines and talk to those people in swing states we're so disconnnected from and (in my case) so afraid of. There's a swing state within a five hour drive or a three hour flight of almost anywhere in the continental United States. So think about calling in sick on Tuesday, and spending the day fighting the good fight. Maybe you'll feel less helpless. I know I do, and I'm not even there yet.
This week I'm volunteering with a group called Driving Votes, who still need lotsa cars and drivers to go to swing states on Monday and Tuesday to drive people to the polls. The org is focusing on Portland, Oregon; Reno; Las Vegas; Albuquerque; Kansas City; Madison; Cleveland; Youngstown, Ohio; Martinsburg, West Virginia; Philadelphia; Manchester, New Hampshire; and Orlando. Check 'em out tonight, they're still taking volunteers!
If you wanna get with the program APA-stylee, check out the coalition of APAs for Kerry who are also organizing volunteer groups to go to swing states. Their target states are Washington, Oregon, Nevada, Minnesota, Michigan, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Florida. You don't have to be for Kerry to work with a partisan group, since all these groups are doing is GETTING OUT THE VOTE. Plus, you'll be with your homepersons.
If you need extra incentive to get your booty swingin' (or swing statin'), just think on this: in an election as close as this one could be, the tiny voting percentage of new, immigrant voters, who don't vote predictably or in a bloc, could make all the difference. No matter what your party affiliation, getting those new voters to the polls, and getting them in the habit both of voting and of giving their loyalty (or not) to a particular party, can mean planting the grass root for an ethnic or demographic voting bloc that can be swung next time, or the time after that.
And if that's not enough, new voters, especially immigrants, are particularly vulnerable to intimidation from volunteers the elephants are organizing to go to the polls and challenge new voters. Your presence at the polls could be the difference between a new citizen voting, and a new citizen being scared away from the polls, possibly forever. What can you do about it? E-Z, Sneezy. If you're a lawyer or a law student especially, but even if you're not, volunteer on election day to go to vulnerable polling places and monitor the polls. You'll be a resource to vulnerable voters and you'll get the warm fuzzies as well. By the way, the other danger, i.e. Florida 2000-style shenanigans, has already reared its Texan head. I didn't know the extent of the shenanigans until recently, but there's plenty of independent online press about it now, so have a look.
In closing: while I love all the little DIY efforts to mock Bush and support voters, what is up with filmmaker Timothy Bui and his cohorts' website selling t-shirts against Bush? The logo reads "No Bush! We like it shaved" and features the silhouette of a naked woman pumping her fist in the air. The website includes a photo page dedicated mostly to women striking sexy poses in the too-tight t-shirts, showing off their breasts, licking lollipops and, in one instance, stroking the crotch of one of the tough hipster-looking guys. "The red star represents a movement that is spreading in all directions and the female pumping her fist into the sky symbolizes power to the people. The slogan, well... that speaks for itself," reads the site's only comment on the proceedings. The female what pumping her fist into the air? My people call female humans "women." If this site is intended to get that all-important Hooters demographic to the polls, well ... more power to ya, I guess. I just tend to get a little scrunchy when bad writers locate the problem of neo-conservatism in my pubic hair. But that's just me.
Posted by claire at 2:51 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
I'm leaving tomorrow evening for Reno. I'll only be there 24 hours, just long enough to hit a jackpot on a slot machine, win a suspiciously large amount at the blackjack tables (i can't count cards in my head but I do have a palm pilot), or play out an even bigger gamble: getting voters to the polls.
It's not so much a gamble, really. The donkeys always benefit from high voter turnout. Just that one little fact makes me so frustrated. Why is it such a struggle, election after election, to get that demographic to the polls whose lives are most vulnerable to the vicissitudes of office-holding, and whose votes have the power to swing worse to bad and back again? This is a sleeping dragon that never wakes, and only occasionally switches its tail at a particularly irritating fly. Let's hope Bush is sufficiently irritating.
Back to the happy: the brilliant young 'uns today who have been roused by our near-fascist regime to organize in new and brilliant ways have shown those of us with small political imaginations that we don't have to sit around in our solidly blue states, in our lefty towns, twiddling our thumbs and dreaming of a Californian secession. We can actually (legally!) cross state lines and talk to those people in swing states we're so disconnnected from and (in my case) so afraid of. There's a swing state within a five hour drive or a three hour flight of almost anywhere in the continental United States. So think about calling in sick on Tuesday, and spending the day fighting the good fight. Maybe you'll feel less helpless. I know I do, and I'm not even there yet.
This week I'm volunteering with a group called Driving Votes, who still need lotsa cars and drivers to go to swing states on Monday and Tuesday to drive people to the polls. The org is focusing on Portland, Oregon; Reno; Las Vegas; Albuquerque; Kansas City; Madison; Cleveland; Youngstown, Ohio; Martinsburg, West Virginia; Philadelphia; Manchester, New Hampshire; and Orlando. Check 'em out tonight, they're still taking volunteers!
If you wanna get with the program APA-stylee, check out the coalition of APAs for Kerry who are also organizing volunteer groups to go to swing states. Their target states are Washington, Oregon, Nevada, Minnesota, Michigan, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Florida. You don't have to be for Kerry to work with a partisan group, since all these groups are doing is GETTING OUT THE VOTE. Plus, you'll be with your homepersons.
If you need extra incentive to get your booty swingin' (or swing statin'), just think on this: in an election as close as this one could be, the tiny voting percentage of new, immigrant voters, who don't vote predictably or in a bloc, could make all the difference. No matter what your party affiliation, getting those new voters to the polls, and getting them in the habit both of voting and of giving their loyalty (or not) to a particular party, can mean planting the grass root for an ethnic or demographic voting bloc that can be swung next time, or the time after that.
And if that's not enough, new voters, especially immigrants, are particularly vulnerable to intimidation from volunteers the elephants are organizing to go to the polls and challenge new voters. Your presence at the polls could be the difference between a new citizen voting, and a new citizen being scared away from the polls, possibly forever. What can you do about it? E-Z, Sneezy. If you're a lawyer or a law student especially, but even if you're not, volunteer on election day to go to vulnerable polling places and monitor the polls. You'll be a resource to vulnerable voters and you'll get the warm fuzzies as well. By the way, the other danger, i.e. Florida 2000-style shenanigans, has already reared its Texan head. I didn't know the extent of the shenanigans until recently, but there's plenty of independent online press about it now, so have a look.
In closing: while I love all the little DIY efforts to mock Bush and support voters, what is up with filmmaker Timothy Bui and his cohorts' website selling t-shirts against Bush? The logo reads "No Bush! We like it shaved" and features the silhouette of a naked woman pumping her fist in the air. The website includes a photo page dedicated mostly to women striking sexy poses in the too-tight t-shirts, showing off their breasts, licking lollipops and, in one instance, stroking the crotch of one of the tough hipster-looking guys. "The red star represents a movement that is spreading in all directions and the female pumping her fist into the sky symbolizes power to the people. The slogan, well... that speaks for itself," reads the site's only comment on the proceedings. The female what pumping her fist into the air? My people call female humans "women." If this site is intended to get that all-important Hooters demographic to the polls, well ... more power to ya, I guess. I just tend to get a little scrunchy when bad writers locate the problem of neo-conservatism in my pubic hair. But that's just me.
Posted by claire at 2:51 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
In which a librarian does not get it.
Posted by Melissa at 7:17 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
In which a librarian does not get it.
Posted by Melissa at 7:17 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
In which a librarian does not get it.
Posted by Melissa at 7:17 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Last week I was in San Diego for SDAFF's fifth annual film festival. Being a San Franciscan (or more accurately, a "Bay Area-n"), I didn't pack for the sunshine and suffered in my sweater and Triple 5 Soul hoody. (How can I be Filipina when I hate the beach and the sunshine?)
Although my cousins and I missed the sold out screenings of Arahan, A Tale of Two Sisters and Steamboy, I wouldn't say that my Film Festival Mission was a bust. All the free copies I had of Hyphen were gone one hour after setting up my table on the second day of the festival, and my cousins sold subscriptions to their friends!
Highlights from SDAFF:
- Ran into a friend (and ex co-worker from NAATA/SFIAAF): Angry Asian Man.
- Met AJ Calomay of Xylophone Films. My best friend is friends with him, so I've heard his name a lot and heard nothing but good things about him.
- Finally saw the music video for "The APL Song"by the Black Eyed Peas (directed by Patricio Ginelsa).
On another note, I had a strange realization that to some people "activist" may be a "dirty word." Despite all my years of having done work in the Asian American community, sometimes I'm ashamed to label myself as an "activist" because of my sloppy politics and hesitancy to "preach."
I recently learned the term "stealth activist," and I think this description fits me to a tee. I don't wear my "politics" on my sleeve: I don't stand in picket lines, I don't generally sign petitions, I don't like to preach. I just do -- I serve (and have served) "my community" in other ways.
My cousins don't necessarily understand the politics behind what I do. I never really thought that choosing to be "Asian American" was a political choice; I have always thought of it as being cultural and personal. This weekend I finally realized what that saying "the personal is political" really means.
One of my cousins kept referring to all the non-Filipino Asians at the film festival as "gooks." That bothered me, but I didn't bother to correct her. In a previous conversation she revealed to me that she didn't consider herself (or other Filipinos, for that matter) to be "Asian American." She was like, "I've never hung out with Asian Americans before," and I thought this was a funny thing to say because all of her friends are (mostly) Filipino (and I consider myself, and other Filipinos, to be "Asian American").
"Asian America" is all I've known the past six years, so I thought it was an interesting contrast that my cousin and I had such different perceptions of identity. We're polar opposites. (I feign to say that she's the "Before" and I'm the "After" of an Asian American Studies Makeover.) However I didn't feel like schooling my cousin on Asian American Studies 101; I didn't want to "go activist" on her. This catch-all term/thing called Asian America is something that I'm both passionate about and tired of, and so I am sometimes apathetic about spouting off "rhetoric." (Maybe some of you can relate?)
I will admit that I don't know if I really will bother to get "preachy" on my cousin and "enlighten" her to my Asian American world. In the future I'll definitely ask my cousin to not call non-Filipino Asians "gooks." But as far as Asian America goes? I'm content to know that she's proud of being Filipina, without having to wear a bamboo backpack, sleep on a banig, or hit me over the head with a Carlos Bulosan book.
Posted by Audrey at 12:52 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
Last week I was in San Diego for SDAFF's fifth annual film festival. Being a San Franciscan (or more accurately, a "Bay Area-n"), I didn't pack for the sunshine and suffered in my sweater and Triple 5 Soul hoody. (How can I be Filipina when I hate the beach and the sunshine?)
Although my cousins and I missed the sold out screenings of Arahan, A Tale of Two Sisters and Steamboy, I wouldn't say that my Film Festival Mission was a bust. All the free copies I had of Hyphen were gone one hour after setting up my table on the second day of the festival, and my cousins sold subscriptions to their friends!
Highlights from SDAFF:
- Ran into a friend (and ex co-worker from NAATA/SFIAAF): Angry Asian Man.
- Met AJ Calomay of Xylophone Films. My best friend is friends with him, so I've heard his name a lot and heard nothing but good things about him.
- Finally saw the music video for "The APL Song"by the Black Eyed Peas (directed by Patricio Ginelsa).
On another note, I had a strange realization that to some people "activist" may be a "dirty word." Despite all my years of having done work in the Asian American community, sometimes I'm ashamed to label myself as an "activist" because of my sloppy politics and hesitancy to "preach."
I recently learned the term "stealth activist," and I think this description fits me to a tee. I don't wear my "politics" on my sleeve: I don't stand in picket lines, I don't generally sign petitions, I don't like to preach. I just do -- I serve (and have served) "my community" in other ways.
My cousins don't necessarily understand the politics behind what I do. I never really thought that choosing to be "Asian American" was a political choice; I have always thought of it as being cultural and personal. This weekend I finally realized what that saying "the personal is political" really means.
One of my cousins kept referring to all the non-Filipino Asians at the film festival as "gooks." That bothered me, but I didn't bother to correct her. In a previous conversation she revealed to me that she didn't consider herself (or other Filipinos, for that matter) to be "Asian American." She was like, "I've never hung out with Asian Americans before," and I thought this was a funny thing to say because all of her friends are (mostly) Filipino (and I consider myself, and other Filipinos, to be "Asian American").
"Asian America" is all I've known the past six years, so I thought it was an interesting contrast that my cousin and I had such different perceptions of identity. We're polar opposites. (I feign to say that she's the "Before" and I'm the "After" of an Asian American Studies Makeover.) However I didn't feel like schooling my cousin on Asian American Studies 101; I didn't want to "go activist" on her. This catch-all term/thing called Asian America is something that I'm both passionate about and tired of, and so I am sometimes apathetic about spouting off "rhetoric." (Maybe some of you can relate?)
I will admit that I don't know if I really will bother to get "preachy" on my cousin and "enlighten" her to my Asian American world. In the future I'll definitely ask my cousin to not call non-Filipino Asians "gooks." But as far as Asian America goes? I'm content to know that she's proud of being Filipina, without having to wear a bamboo backpack, sleep on a banig, or hit me over the head with a Carlos Bulosan book.
Posted by Audrey at 12:52 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
Last week I was in San Diego for SDAFF's fifth annual film festival. Being a San Franciscan (or more accurately, a "Bay Area-n"), I didn't pack for the sunshine and suffered in my sweater and Triple 5 Soul hoody. (How can I be Filipina when I hate the beach and the sunshine?)
Although my cousins and I missed the sold out screenings of Arahan, A Tale of Two Sisters and Steamboy, I wouldn't say that my Film Festival Mission was a bust. All the free copies I had of Hyphen were gone one hour after setting up my table on the second day of the festival, and my cousins sold subscriptions to their friends!
Highlights from SDAFF:
- Ran into a friend (and ex co-worker from NAATA/SFIAAF): Angry Asian Man.
- Met AJ Calomay of Xylophone Films. My best friend is friends with him, so I've heard his name a lot and heard nothing but good things about him.
- Finally saw the music video for "The APL Song"by the Black Eyed Peas (directed by Patricio Ginelsa).
On another note, I had a strange realization that to some people "activist" may be a "dirty word." Despite all my years of having done work in the Asian American community, sometimes I'm ashamed to label myself as an "activist" because of my sloppy politics and hesitancy to "preach."
I recently learned the term "stealth activist," and I think this description fits me to a tee. I don't wear my "politics" on my sleeve: I don't stand in picket lines, I don't generally sign petitions, I don't like to preach. I just do -- I serve (and have served) "my community" in other ways.
My cousins don't necessarily understand the politics behind what I do. I never really thought that choosing to be "Asian American" was a political choice; I have always thought of it as being cultural and personal. This weekend I finally realized what that saying "the personal is political" really means.
One of my cousins kept referring to all the non-Filipino Asians at the film festival as "gooks." That bothered me, but I didn't bother to correct her. In a previous conversation she revealed to me that she didn't consider herself (or other Filipinos, for that matter) to be "Asian American." She was like, "I've never hung out with Asian Americans before," and I thought this was a funny thing to say because all of her friends are (mostly) Filipino (and I consider myself, and other Filipinos, to be "Asian American").
"Asian America" is all I've known the past six years, so I thought it was an interesting contrast that my cousin and I had such different perceptions of identity. We're polar opposites. (I feign to say that she's the "Before" and I'm the "After" of an Asian American Studies Makeover.) However I didn't feel like schooling my cousin on Asian American Studies 101; I didn't want to "go activist" on her. This catch-all term/thing called Asian America is something that I'm both passionate about and tired of, and so I am sometimes apathetic about spouting off "rhetoric." (Maybe some of you can relate?)
I will admit that I don't know if I really will bother to get "preachy" on my cousin and "enlighten" her to my Asian American world. In the future I'll definitely ask my cousin to not call non-Filipino Asians "gooks." But as far as Asian America goes? I'm content to know that she's proud of being Filipina, without having to wear a bamboo backpack, sleep on a banig, or hit me over the head with a Carlos Bulosan book.
Posted by Audrey at 12:52 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
Not to make this blog too San Francisco-centric (San Francentric?), but I’ve been walking past the hotel workers picketing at the Holiday Inn two blocks from my house in SoMa each night for the past month, feeling pissed that they were still there, night after night, locked out of their jobs. But as Jennifer mentioned yesterday, SF mayor Gavin Newsom threatened to—and actually did—join the picket line today! Maybe mayoral pressure will mean that one day soon I’ll walk past the hotel and not see the strikers, because they will have been able to return to their jobs.
Hearing that neighborhood news was a lot sweeter than reading about the Asian sex slavery that occurred just another few blocks away. A recent raid on a downtown massage parlor found 17 young Asian women hidden in the basement who had been trafficked into the country for forced sex slavery. This topic hit pretty close to home in more ways than one, because I’ve been researching it all week for a documentary that the company I work at is funding, and the statistics are horrifying: of the more than one million women and girls who are sold, transported and forced into sexual slavery each year, 50,000 are in the United States. It makes me wonder about the “Oriental massage parlor” with the blackened windows up the street from my house that I walk past at least twice a day.
Posted by Lisa at 4:10 PM | Comments (0)
Not to make this blog too San Francisco-centric (San Francentric?), but I’ve been walking past the hotel workers picketing at the Holiday Inn two blocks from my house in SoMa each night for the past month, feeling pissed that they were still there, night after night, locked out of their jobs. But as Jennifer mentioned yesterday, SF mayor Gavin Newsom threatened to—and actually did—join the picket line today! Maybe mayoral pressure will mean that one day soon I’ll walk past the hotel and not see the strikers, because they will have been able to return to their jobs.
Hearing that neighborhood news was a lot sweeter than reading about the Asian sex slavery that occurred just another few blocks away. A recent raid on a downtown massage parlor found 17 young Asian women hidden in the basement who had been trafficked into the country for forced sex slavery. This topic hit pretty close to home in more ways than one, because I’ve been researching it all week for a documentary that the company I work at is funding, and the statistics are horrifying: of the more than one million women and girls who are sold, transported and forced into sexual slavery each year, 50,000 are in the United States. It makes me wonder about the “Oriental massage parlor” with the blackened windows up the street from my house that I walk past at least twice a day.
Posted by Lisa at 4:10 PM | Comments (0)
Not to make this blog too San Francisco-centric (San Francentric?), but Ive been walking past the hotel workers picketing at the Holiday Inn two blocks from my house in SoMa each night for the past month, feeling pissed that they were still there, night after night, locked out of their jobs. But as Jennifer mentioned yesterday, SF mayor Gavin Newsom threatened toand actually didjoin the picket line today! Maybe mayoral pressure will mean that one day soon Ill walk past the hotel and not see the strikers, because they will have been able to return to their jobs.
Hearing that neighborhood news was a lot sweeter than reading about the Asian sex slavery that occurred just another few blocks away. A recent raid on a downtown massage parlor found 17 young Asian women hidden in the basement who had been trafficked into the country for forced sex slavery. This topic hit pretty close to home in more ways than one, because Ive been researching it all week for a documentary that the company I work at is funding, and the statistics are horrifying: of the more than one million women and girls who are sold, transported and forced into sexual slavery each year, 50,000 are in the United States. It makes me wonder about the Oriental massage parlor with the blackened windows up the street from my house that I walk past at least twice a day.
Posted by Lisa at 4:10 PM | Comments (0)
When I sleep, my body actually melts and I cease to exist in this physical realm. I become a mist, floating between continents and dimensions.
Every morning when I wake up, it takes a sheer strength of will to reassemble the molecules that make up my bone structure, the little air sacks of my lungs and the synapses in my grey matter. That's why it takes me so long to wake up in the morning, and when I do, I tend to be disoriented.
But this morning, the news on NPR made all of my cells instantly snap into place. I thought I might be confused still, perhaps I misheard:
Ariel Sharon wants to pull all settlements out of the Gaza Strip.
Gavin Newsom threatened to walk the picket line of hotel workers.
Did I wake up in a different dimension?
Ariel Sharon, the man who has been relentlessly bombing, bulldozing, and walling off the Palestinians, is acknowledging that Jewish settlements in the Palestinian areas are only a liability to Israel, and wants to dissolve them. His own party is split on the proposal, as is the rest of the country.
But what a reversal.
Here's a man who, after decades of maintaining a hardline, no-compromise anti-Palestinian position, is basically admitting the error of his previous position. And doing something quite radical to amend it. He has been so obstinate in the past, I'd never have thought him capable of seeing things differently.
And Gavin Newsom, our coverboy mayor. He is always full of surprises. His gay marriagefest won over a lot of skeptics, SF liberals who virulently campaigned against his slick fratboy-ness, his establishment-backed golden boy status in favor of Matt Gonzalez, the Green candidate who we thought could ring in a revolution.
We didn't get Matt, but Newsom has been a surprising treat. Threatening the hotels (including the Four Seasons, the Mark Hopkins, Holiday Inn, and Hyatt), on the side of the workers? Telling them the city will boycott their businesses --for years to come-- if they don't end the lock out of their bellhops and cleaners and servers? Siding, in many ways, with the browns against the whites?
Wow.
I wish we had a president who could surprise us like that.
Especially after hearing the third thing that woke me up:
Chief Justice Rehnquist has cancer.
Posted by jennifer at 10:40 AM | Comments (1)
When I sleep, my body actually melts and I cease to exist in this physical realm. I become a mist, floating between continents and dimensions.
Every morning when I wake up, it takes a sheer strength of will to reassemble the molecules that make up my bone structure, the little air sacks of my lungs and the synapses in my grey matter. That's why it takes me so long to wake up in the morning, and when I do, I tend to be disoriented.
But this morning, the news on NPR made all of my cells instantly snap into place. I thought I might be confused still, perhaps I misheard:
Ariel Sharon wants to pull all settlements out of the Gaza Strip.
Gavin Newsom threatened to walk the picket line of hotel workers.
Did I wake up in a different dimension?
Ariel Sharon, the man who has been relentlessly bombing, bulldozing, and walling off the Palestinians, is acknowledging that Jewish settlements in the Palestinian areas are only a liability to Israel, and wants to dissolve them. His own party is split on the proposal, as is the rest of the country.
But what a reversal.
Here's a man who, after decades of maintaining a hardline, no-compromise anti-Palestinian position, is basically admitting the error of his previous position. And doing something quite radical to amend it. He has been so obstinate in the past, I'd never have thought him capable of seeing things differently.
And Gavin Newsom, our coverboy mayor. He is always full of surprises. His gay marriagefest won over a lot of skeptics, SF liberals who virulently campaigned against his slick fratboy-ness, his establishment-backed golden boy status in favor of Matt Gonzalez, the Green candidate who we thought could ring in a revolution.
We didn't get Matt, but Newsom has been a surprising treat. Threatening the hotels (including the Four Seasons, the Mark Hopkins, Holiday Inn, and Hyatt), on the side of the workers? Telling them the city will boycott their businesses --for years to come-- if they don't end the lock out of their bellhops and cleaners and servers? Siding, in many ways, with the browns against the whites?
Wow.
I wish we had a president who could surprise us like that.
Especially after hearing the third thing that woke me up:
Chief Justice Rehnquist has cancer.
Posted by jennifer at 10:40 AM | Comments (1)
When I sleep, my body actually melts and I cease to exist in this physical realm. I become a mist, floating between continents and dimensions.
Every morning when I wake up, it takes a sheer strength of will to reassemble the molecules that make up my bone structure, the little air sacks of my lungs and the synapses in my grey matter. That's why it takes me so long to wake up in the morning, and when I do, I tend to be disoriented.
But this morning, the news on NPR made all of my cells instantly snap into place. I thought I might be confused still, perhaps I misheard:
Ariel Sharon wants to pull all settlements out of the Gaza Strip.
Gavin Newsom threatened to walk the picket line of hotel workers.
Did I wake up in a different dimension?
Ariel Sharon, the man who has been relentlessly bombing, bulldozing, and walling off the Palestinians, is acknowledging that Jewish settlements in the Palestinian areas are only a liability to Israel, and wants to dissolve them. His own party is split on the proposal, as is the rest of the country.
But what a reversal.
Here's a man who, after decades of maintaining a hardline, no-compromise anti-Palestinian position, is basically admitting the error of his previous position. And doing something quite radical to amend it. He has been so obstinate in the past, I'd never have thought him capable of seeing things differently.
And Gavin Newsom, our coverboy mayor. He is always full of surprises. His gay marriagefest won over a lot of skeptics, SF liberals who virulently campaigned against his slick fratboy-ness, his establishment-backed golden boy status in favor of Matt Gonzalez, the Green candidate who we thought could ring in a revolution.
We didn't get Matt, but Newsom has been a surprising treat. Threatening the hotels (including the Four Seasons, the Mark Hopkins, Holiday Inn, and Hyatt), on the side of the workers? Telling them the city will boycott their businesses --for years to come-- if they don't end the lock out of their bellhops and cleaners and servers? Siding, in many ways, with the browns against the whites?
Wow.
I wish we had a president who could surprise us like that.
Especially after hearing the third thing that woke me up:
Chief Justice Rehnquist has cancer.
Posted by jennifer at 10:40 AM | Comments (1)
I'm the type whose hackles go up whenever someone--almost always a white someone, ya notice?--pooh-poohs political correctness. Yeah, folks, it's really fascist when Asian Americans demand to be called what we wanna be called rather than what ignorant you wanna call us. I tend to think that political correctness is a justice purely on the level of social revenge: if you get to remind me that I'm Asian American all day long, then I get to remind you that you're an ignorant fuck. Yeah, all day long, Hairdo. Me so angry.
Surprisingly enough, Frank Chin is nicer about this than I am.
In his essay "Pidgin Contest on the I-5" (which you can find in Bulletproof Buddhists) Chin redefines "PC" as a "pidgin contest," a contest among speakers of many different native languages using a single, marketplace lingua franca that belongs to no one and therefore to everyone. The contest is to see both who can come up with the best insults, and who can be most civil--which is defined by the best use of language.
I like to think that HYPHEN is stepping up as a contestant in the pidgin contest. But what if the only other contenders are already on our team? This particular round of agonizing was brought to you by my recent argument with a HYPHEN supporter (white, male, dating an AsAm woman) who told me--apropos of almost nothing--that Asian American film festivals are no longer necessary, since there's so much Asian American film out there now. What? Out Where? Of course I immediately took offense, but on second thought, maybe he said this because he was speaking from the center of the whirlwind, where every film he sees is Asian American, every conversation is PC, every face is yellow. (On the other hand, he did also say that he "wasn't PC", in the same voice that urban hoochies with cell phones and sex lives say that they're "not a feminist".)
But p'raps it's true, perhaps here in AsianAmericaLand™ we're too sheltered. We've created the simulacrum of a Happy Society: one in which our circle overlaps others, and isn't just the margin ring of concentricity. Of course, AsianAmericaLand™ contains only about five thousand people nationwide (the majority of whom are unmarried, childless, and under 40) but since it only takes 150 to max out a community (and unmarried, childless and under 40 is skinny and hot) we're pretty Happy. Inside, we never have to hear people ask us where we're from much less tell us to go back there; Inside, all the Asian boys date Asian girls and largely vice versa and they do it both out of love (young, skinny, hot) and out of politics; Inside everybody is crafty and Makes Things, like purses and dolls and films and magazines and fascist idioms.
But Inside is also wealthy and educated. We never have to leave to get dirtyfilthy jobs or send our nonexistent kids to substandard schools. Indeed, Hairdo, what is the point of the work we're doing if we're still only preaching to the silk-clad choir? What if everybody else refuses to learn pidgin? Even while we were releasing our politics issue, the very New York Times verily dedicated a feature story to a Korean adoptee call-girl madam. Do we presume that this is a new cultural trend and not that we love stories about Asian whores? Do we chorus "foul" yet again to deaf ears or do we let this one go?
Or how about this?: none of the reportage on the recent findings that the westernization of Asian American women--measured by their English speaking ability--was linked to an increased smoking rate could resist headlining that speaking English is bad for Asian women's health. Asian American immigrant women constitute one of the most economically and socially vulnerable groups in the country. How much cultural sensitivity does it take to not imply that a skill (English speaking) that increases their political, economic, and social empowerment is causing them cancer? Seriously, am I just being a shrill PC bitch here?
I have no answer, but so as not to end on a down note here, I have to say that I find a lot of hope in the fact that half the "Asian American" news items on the web are pieces from the lifestyle sections of small-town papers discovering that they, too, have an Asian American community. This week's favorite is from Bristol, Tennessee, which now boasts a 300-family Indian American community. The between-two-worlds paradigm may be ho-hum to us As Am Studies graduates in sophisticate DeCentralLand, but it's still news in da provinces. If we can't get excited about this exploding plastic inevitable, then we are too sheltered.
Posted by claire at 12:37 PM | Comments (0)
I'm the type whose hackles go up whenever someone--almost always a white someone, ya notice?--pooh-poohs political correctness. Yeah, folks, it's really fascist when Asian Americans demand to be called what we wanna be called rather than what ignorant you wanna call us. I tend to think that political correctness is a justice purely on the level of social revenge: if you get to remind me that I'm Asian American all day long, then I get to remind you that you're an ignorant fuck. Yeah, all day long, Hairdo. Me so angry.
Surprisingly enough, Frank Chin is nicer about this than I am.
In his essay "Pidgin Contest on the I-5" (which you can find in Bulletproof Buddhists) Chin redefines "PC" as a "pidgin contest," a contest among speakers of many different native languages using a single, marketplace lingua franca that belongs to no one and therefore to everyone. The contest is to see both who can come up with the best insults, and who can be most civil--which is defined by the best use of language.
I like to think that HYPHEN is stepping up as a contestant in the pidgin contest. But what if the only other contenders are already on our team? This particular round of agonizing was brought to you by my recent argument with a HYPHEN supporter (white, male, dating an AsAm woman) who told me--apropos of almost nothing--that Asian American film festivals are no longer necessary, since there's so much Asian American film out there now. What? Out Where? Of course I immediately took offense, but on second thought, maybe he said this because he was speaking from the center of the whirlwind, where every film he sees is Asian American, every conversation is PC, every face is yellow. (On the other hand, he did also say that he "wasn't PC", in the same voice that urban hoochies with cell phones and sex lives say that they're "not a feminist".)
But p'raps it's true, perhaps here in AsianAmericaLand™ we're too sheltered. We've created the simulacrum of a Happy Society: one in which our circle overlaps others, and isn't just the margin ring of concentricity. Of course, AsianAmericaLand™ contains only about five thousand people nationwide (the majority of whom are unmarried, childless, and under 40) but since it only takes 150 to max out a community (and unmarried, childless and under 40 is skinny and hot) we're pretty Happy. Inside, we never have to hear people ask us where we're from much less tell us to go back there; Inside, all the Asian boys date Asian girls and largely vice versa and they do it both out of love (young, skinny, hot) and out of politics; Inside everybody is crafty and Makes Things, like purses and dolls and films and magazines and fascist idioms.
But Inside is also wealthy and educated. We never have to leave to get dirtyfilthy jobs or send our nonexistent kids to substandard schools. Indeed, Hairdo, what is the point of the work we're doing if we're still only preaching to the silk-clad choir? What if everybody else refuses to learn pidgin? Even while we were releasing our politics issue, the very New York Times verily dedicated a feature story to a Korean adoptee call-girl madam. Do we presume that this is a new cultural trend and not that we love stories about Asian whores? Do we chorus "foul" yet again to deaf ears or do we let this one go?
Or how about this?: none of the reportage on the recent findings that the westernization of Asian American women--measured by their English speaking ability--was linked to an increased smoking rate could resist headlining that speaking English is bad for Asian women's health. Asian American immigrant women constitute one of the most economically and socially vulnerable groups in the country. How much cultural sensitivity does it take to not imply that a skill (English speaking) that increases their political, economic, and social empowerment is causing them cancer? Seriously, am I just being a shrill PC bitch here?
I have no answer, but so as not to end on a down note here, I have to say that I find a lot of hope in the fact that half the "Asian American" news items on the web are pieces from the lifestyle sections of small-town papers discovering that they, too, have an Asian American community. This week's favorite is from Bristol, Tennessee, which now boasts a 300-family Indian American community. The between-two-worlds paradigm may be ho-hum to us As Am Studies graduates in sophisticate DeCentralLand, but it's still news in da provinces. If we can't get excited about this exploding plastic inevitable, then we are too sheltered.
Posted by claire at 12:37 PM | Comments (0)
I'm the type whose hackles go up whenever someone--almost always a white someone, ya notice?--pooh-poohs political correctness. Yeah, folks, it's really fascist when Asian Americans demand to be called what we wanna be called rather than what ignorant you wanna call us. I tend to think that political correctness is a justice purely on the level of social revenge: if you get to remind me that I'm Asian American all day long, then I get to remind you that you're an ignorant fuck. Yeah, all day long, Hairdo. Me so angry.
Surprisingly enough, Frank Chin is nicer about this than I am.
In his essay "Pidgin Contest on the I-5" (which you can find in Bulletproof Buddhists) Chin redefines "PC" as a "pidgin contest," a contest among speakers of many different native languages using a single, marketplace lingua franca that belongs to no one and therefore to everyone. The contest is to see both who can come up with the best insults, and who can be most civil--which is defined by the best use of language.
I like to think that HYPHEN is stepping up as a contestant in the pidgin contest. But what if the only other contenders are already on our team? This particular round of agonizing was brought to you by my recent argument with a HYPHEN supporter (white, male, dating an AsAm woman) who told me--apropos of almost nothing--that Asian American film festivals are no longer necessary, since there's so much Asian American film out there now. What? Out Where? Of course I immediately took offense, but on second thought, maybe he said this because he was speaking from the center of the whirlwind, where every film he sees is Asian American, every conversation is PC, every face is yellow. (On the other hand, he did also say that he "wasn't PC", in the same voice that urban hoochies with cell phones and sex lives say that they're "not a feminist".)
But p'raps it's true, perhaps here in AsianAmericaLand we're too sheltered. We've created the simulacrum of a Happy Society: one in which our circle overlaps others, and isn't just the margin ring of concentricity. Of course, AsianAmericaLand contains only about five thousand people nationwide (the majority of whom are unmarried, childless, and under 40) but since it only takes 150 to max out a community (and unmarried, childless and under 40 is skinny and hot) we're pretty Happy. Inside, we never have to hear people ask us where we're from much less tell us to go back there; Inside, all the Asian boys date Asian girls and largely vice versa and they do it both out of love (young, skinny, hot) and out of politics; Inside everybody is crafty and Makes Things, like purses and dolls and films and magazines and fascist idioms.
But Inside is also wealthy and educated. We never have to leave to get dirtyfilthy jobs or send our nonexistent kids to substandard schools. Indeed, Hairdo, what is the point of the work we're doing if we're still only preaching to the silk-clad choir? What if everybody else refuses to learn pidgin? Even while we were releasing our politics issue, the very New York Times verily dedicated a feature story to a Korean adoptee call-girl madam. Do we presume that this is a new cultural trend and not that we love stories about Asian whores? Do we chorus "foul" yet again to deaf ears or do we let this one go?
Or how about this?: none of the reportage on the recent findings that the westernization of Asian American women--measured by their English speaking ability--was linked to an increased smoking rate could resist headlining that speaking English is bad for Asian women's health. Asian American immigrant women constitute one of the most economically and socially vulnerable groups in the country. How much cultural sensitivity does it take to not imply that a skill (English speaking) that increases their political, economic, and social empowerment is causing them cancer? Seriously, am I just being a shrill PC bitch here?
I have no answer, but so as not to end on a down note here, I have to say that I find a lot of hope in the fact that half the "Asian American" news items on the web are pieces from the lifestyle sections of small-town papers discovering that they, too, have an Asian American community. This week's favorite is from Bristol, Tennessee, which now boasts a 300-family Indian American community. The between-two-worlds paradigm may be ho-hum to us As Am Studies graduates in sophisticate DeCentralLand, but it's still news in da provinces. If we can't get excited about this exploding plastic inevitable, then we are too sheltered.
Posted by claire at 12:37 PM | Comments (0)
Some good books came in the mail this week. One is Rivers’ Edge, a tell-all book about the rise of Weezer and the machinations of its musical genius/social misfit of a lead singer, Rivers Cuomo. Rumors of Rivers’ erratic Brian Wilson-like behavior have circulated for years and the book confirms some goodies and denies (or chooses to ignore) the more outrageous ones.
But I give author John D. Luerssen credit for putting out there what many people thought for years: that Cuomo harbors a raging Asian fetish.
From using his celebrity to bonk Asian girls, to documenting his relationship preferences and frustrations on the record (“Across the Sea,” “El Scorcho”), Rivers’ Edge paints Cuomo as a magically talented character obsessed with music and Asian chicks.
During one of the more juicy passages, Weezer was on tour in Japan. 15 girls were in Cuomo’s hotel room but he didn’t have the game to say what he wanted. So he blurted something like “If you’re going to stay here, you have to take your clothes off. Everyone else has to leave.” Four stayed behind and much exploitation was had by all (he for race, them for rock star). Another time, while Cuomo was attending Harvard, he was at a club with his girlfriend (who looked thirteen) and the Mighty Mighty Bosstones’ Dickey Barrett saw him and “busted his balls.” There’s a bunch of other little episodes in the book, confirmed by band members, painting Cuomo as a rampaging luster.
I, too, busted Cuomo on this matter eight years ago when Pinkerton was released. I like Pinkerton as much as the next closet indie nerd but to know that Cuomo banked my cash to fund his Hot Asian Girl habit is a little disconcerting. Maybe he can get with Tania Wang for some advanced game?
Posted by at 4:34 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
Some good books came in the mail this week. One is Rivers’ Edge, a tell-all book about the rise of Weezer and the machinations of its musical genius/social misfit of a lead singer, Rivers Cuomo. Rumors of Rivers’ erratic Brian Wilson-like behavior have circulated for years and the book confirms some goodies and denies (or chooses to ignore) the more outrageous ones.
But I give author John D. Luerssen credit for putting out there what many people thought for years: that Cuomo harbors a raging Asian fetish.
From using his celebrity to bonk Asian girls, to documenting his relationship preferences and frustrations on the record (“Across the Sea,” “El Scorcho”), Rivers’ Edge paints Cuomo as a magically talented character obsessed with music and Asian chicks.
During one of the more juicy passages, Weezer was on tour in Japan. 15 girls were in Cuomo’s hotel room but he didn’t have the game to say what he wanted. So he blurted something like “If you’re going to stay here, you have to take your clothes off. Everyone else has to leave.” Four stayed behind and much exploitation was had by all (he for race, them for rock star). Another time, while Cuomo was attending Harvard, he was at a club with his girlfriend (who looked thirteen) and the Mighty Mighty Bosstones’ Dickey Barrett saw him and “busted his balls.” There’s a bunch of other little episodes in the book, confirmed by band members, painting Cuomo as a rampaging luster.
I, too, busted Cuomo on this matter eight years ago when Pinkerton was released. I like Pinkerton as much as the next closet indie nerd but to know that Cuomo banked my cash to fund his Hot Asian Girl habit is a little disconcerting. Maybe he can get with Tania Wang for some advanced game?
Posted by at 4:34 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
Some good books came in the mail this week. One is Rivers Edge, a tell-all book about the rise of Weezer and the machinations of its musical genius/social misfit of a lead singer, Rivers Cuomo. Rumors of Rivers erratic Brian Wilson-like behavior have circulated for years and the book confirms some goodies and denies (or chooses to ignore) the more outrageous ones.
But I give author John D. Luerssen credit for putting out there what many people thought for years: that Cuomo harbors a raging Asian fetish.
From using his celebrity to bonk Asian girls, to documenting his relationship preferences and frustrations on the record (Across the Sea, El Scorcho), Rivers Edge paints Cuomo as a magically talented character obsessed with music and Asian chicks.
During one of the more juicy passages, Weezer was on tour in Japan. 15 girls were in Cuomos hotel room but he didnt have the game to say what he wanted. So he blurted something like If youre going to stay here, you have to take your clothes off. Everyone else has to leave. Four stayed behind and much exploitation was had by all (he for race, them for rock star). Another time, while Cuomo was attending Harvard, he was at a club with his girlfriend (who looked thirteen) and the Mighty Mighty Bosstones Dickey Barrett saw him and busted his balls. Theres a bunch of other little episodes in the book, confirmed by band members, painting Cuomo as a rampaging luster.
I, too, busted Cuomo on this matter eight years ago when Pinkerton was released. I like Pinkerton as much as the next closet indie nerd but to know that Cuomo banked my cash to fund his Hot Asian Girl habit is a little disconcerting. Maybe he can get with Tania Wang for some advanced game?
Posted by todd at 4:34 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
If you haven't picked up Issue 5 of Hyphen, there's a great must-read for hip-hop lovers: Bay Area writer Jeff Chang discusses his involvement with Solesides (the record label which spawned DJ Shadow, Latyrx and Blackalicious), to working at Russell Simmons' (now defunct) 360hiphop as the politics editor, to writing his own book about hip-hop. As an undergrad I interned at Quannum Projects (the present day reincarnation of Solesides) for a semester, so needless to say, I'm excited for Chang's book (Can't Stop, Won't Stop: A History of the Hip-hop Generation) to come out.
This week Chang also has an article in the SF Bay Guardian about Jin and his long-awaited debut album The Rest is History. After reading about Jin's rise to Ruff Ryders notoriety, I ended up even more confused about the whole Jin matter. In a twist of (not so ironic) irony, earlier this year I programmed Jin's video for "Learn Chinese" in the music video portion of Directions In Sound, much to the chagrin of Oliver Wang (who didn't hesitate to give me his two cents on why I should have excluded it).
In a few hours I will be flying down to San Diego for a long weekend. In addition to drinking cheap tequila in Tijuana with my cousins, I will be attending the San Diego Asian Film Foundation's film festival. I am primarily going to check out music videos and the Producing Music Videos panel discussion. No, Jin will not be there to teach everyone Chinese -- but Dino Ignacio will formally introduce you to Ana Manananggal.
Although I've seen (and programmed [in my own music video programs]) many of the music videos that are screening at SDAFF this year, I am excited to see Dino's "Bad Thoughts" (by The Skyflakes) on the big screen again. (Dino is one of my most favorite people to sing karaoke with. Have you seen his animation Maritess vs. The Superfriends?) I am also anxious to hear what Patricio Ginelsa (director of "The APL Song" by Black Eyed Peas, and the feature-length film Lumpia) and Evan Leong (director of Lyrics Born's "Last Trumpet" and the documentary BLT: Genesis) have to say about their current and future projects.
Look out, San Diego-ans! Come find me at SDAFF (or across the border) if you want a free copy of Hyphen! (I am only bringing 50 copies.) If I'm not flashing my badge to watch free movies, I'll be sitting at some table next to my friend James Hou, director of Masters of the Pillow, trying to make new Hyphen friends. Just think, you could go home with porn in one hand and Hyphen in the other!
P.S. - Oliver (that's right, calling you out), I'm still waiting for you to sign my copy of Classic Material. I'll trade you adobo for an autograph, if that's any incentive.
Posted by Audrey at 1:22 AM | Comments (8)
If you haven't picked up Issue 5 of Hyphen, there's a great must-read for hip-hop lovers: Bay Area writer Jeff Chang discusses his involvement with Solesides (the record label which spawned DJ Shadow, Latyrx and Blackalicious), to working at Russell Simmons' (now defunct) 360hiphop as the politics editor, to writing his own book about hip-hop. As an undergrad I interned at Quannum Projects (the present day reincarnation of Solesides) for a semester, so needless to say, I'm excited for Chang's book (Can't Stop, Won't Stop: A History of the Hip-hop Generation) to come out.
This week Chang also has an article in the SF Bay Guardian about Jin and his long-awaited debut album The Rest is History. After reading about Jin's rise to Ruff Ryders notoriety, I ended up even more confused about the whole Jin matter. In a twist of (not so ironic) irony, earlier this year I programmed Jin's video for "Learn Chinese" in the music video portion of Directions In Sound, much to the chagrin of Oliver Wang (who didn't hesitate to give me his two cents on why I should have excluded it).
In a few hours I will be flying down to San Diego for a long weekend. In addition to drinking cheap tequila in Tijuana with my cousins, I will be attending the San Diego Asian Film Foundation's film festival. I am primarily going to check out music videos and the Producing Music Videos panel discussion. No, Jin will not be there to teach everyone Chinese -- but Dino Ignacio will formally introduce you to Ana Manananggal.
Although I've seen (and programmed [in my own music video programs]) many of the music videos that are screening at SDAFF this year, I am excited to see Dino's "Bad Thoughts" (by The Skyflakes) on the big screen again. (Dino is one of my most favorite people to sing karaoke with. Have you seen his animation Maritess vs. The Superfriends?) I am also anxious to hear what Patricio Ginelsa (director of "The APL Song" by Black Eyed Peas, and the feature-length film Lumpia) and Evan Leong (director of Lyrics Born's "Last Trumpet" and the documentary BLT: Genesis) have to say about their current and future projects.
Look out, San Diego-ans! Come find me at SDAFF (or across the border) if you want a free copy of Hyphen! (I am only bringing 50 copies.) If I'm not flashing my badge to watch free movies, I'll be sitting at some table next to my friend James Hou, director of Masters of the Pillow, trying to make new Hyphen friends. Just think, you could go home with porn in one hand and Hyphen in the other!
P.S. - Oliver (that's right, calling you out), I'm still waiting for you to sign my copy of Classic Material. I'll trade you adobo for an autograph, if that's any incentive.