Showing posts with label Entitlement. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Entitlement. Show all posts

09 June 2016

Proust Questionnaire (feat. poorhomiewei and 党唯予)


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the great french novelist marcel proust
党唯予: before we start, I’d like to file for a name change. Henceforth, I shall be referred to as Walter Dang.
poorhomie wei: fine, a chink is also going to change his name, well, rather present an alternative name. in fact, a chink gonna take your name and brink it back some honor, you fuckboi. go suck a white cock.
Text Editor (TE): So, abbreviations?
Wallace Dang: WD
poorhomie wei: 党唯予
TE: ha.

TE: so, onto the show. It’s come to my attention that you clowns want to fill out a variant of a Proust Questionnaire. Let’s go.

DEMOGRAPHICS
 

QUESTIONNAIRE

What is your perfect idea of happiness?

WD: Not having to worry about people thinking of me. A variant of the invisible man where I can just glide by and go about my interests and not have to think of my place in the world. I hope for a kind of happiness where my role in life is assured and guided. I everyone to have a right to self identify. I want people to assume identities. I guess my state of perfect happiness is a world where there are no more identities? Or at least one where they are in flux and everyone has a choice to make.

党唯予: Jesus bruh, that’s a perverted ass happiness. The fuck does “[identities] in flux and everyone has a choice to make” even mean? Like fuck, people don’t deserve the right to be so ashamed of their heritage and what makes them so successful and comfortable in life as to just throw them away and identify, associate, ally, whatever-the-fuck-buzzword-verb with what’s gonna make them feel better about their shitty ass selves. Everyone is a little shit. That’s the way it is. I don’t think there needs any real change to that. That’ll eviscerate everything of meaning / referential stasis in life. My happiness is one where people can come to terms with the way they are and the historicity behind what they are. Happiness doesn’t mean the end of conflict to me. Happiness is where the conflicts are actually productive and don’t produce covert forms of fuckboi/girl-ery. It’s where people are capable of critically thinking without having their emotions delude them. And I guess that in itself is impossible—it’ll call for a complete partitioning of reason and sensibility. So, I guess in the end, this is a stupidass question that has no real meaning and only applies to idealist fucks who can’t see reality or can’t bear to see it because they’re too fucking un-self-aware. There. My compromise is where people are smart enough to be self-aware, in a logical manner.

What is your greatest fear?

WD: Being slighted, being pushed aside by the world. My greatest fear is to not be able to connect with the world. I don’t want to be disliked or disparaged. I also don’t want to disrupt the harmony for others. The order of things works. I don’t want it broken. I fear a disrupted world

党唯予: JESUS, YOU FUCKING BOOTLICKER. The hierarchy is meant put down contradictions like us fucking chinks. They made the hierarchy to get ride of inconveniences like a chink who doesn’t want to do what a chink has always done. I don’t even need to remind you what the fuck that means, like Jesus, get the fuck outta here. You want a sustained system? Fuck. You don’t even care about history. You don’t even care about how things are made. You want the status quo, you’re fucking happy to pretend that the world never changed that the world was never any different. You like one of those white hoes talking about 77 cents. Get the fuck outta here. Talk about the 33 cents a fucking Filipina lady gets. Myopic idiots. Even when a chink trying to move forwards, people like you pulling us back. White people happy with talking only of disparaged white people pull shit back. Chinks who are comfortable and perform the roles they’re meant to play are the ones pulling other chinks back. I’m only scared that no one’s every going put themselves aside for something better. I’m afraid that people are too comfortable to change. Jesus. I was talking with someone the other and I mentioned this, the difficulty of overcoming comfort. And they only wanted to profit off of it. They just wanted to make money off of people choosing comfort. If people can’t move away from comfort, fuck. That’s my greatest fear.
                                                                                                             
What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?

WD: not fitting in, disrupting the lives of others by accident

党唯予: that I don’t do enough to try to effect change

What is the trait you most deplore in others?

WD: iconoclasm, destabilization

党唯予: being nice and putting emotions above all, culminating in a perverted show of emotion over reason

Which living person do you most admire?

WD: Obama

党唯予: myself, if i can’t look at myself and be content enough to improve it, i’m fucked

What is your greatest extravagance?

WD: wanting things my way

党唯予: valuing my own opinion

What is your current state of mind?

WD: fine

党唯予: stupid question. Pass

What do you consider the most overrated virtue?

WD: reason

党唯予: why the fuck do people always talk about virtue. Fine. Niceness

On what occasion do you lie?

WD: if it’s going to disrupt things

党唯予: as long as a chink don’t lie to himself

What do you most dislike about your appearance?

WD: nothing much. I’m happy looking the way i do, don’t really stand out that much.

党唯予: that i’m not chinky enough. nose is strangely white. Winters, i’d like to stay dark, a chink vain and hates that he gets pale-ish.

Which living person do you most despise?

WD: Donald trump.

 党唯予: ha. Fuckboi hackneyed answer. I’m gonna say taylor swift. Goof ass clown embodies everything i hate about white people. Literally lets men pull her strings and then calls herself some sort of feminist hero. Fake ass ‘singer’ dates calvin harris, noted sexist / racist. Has no colored friends. Straight up thinks that women are only white. Doesn’t even make interesting music only some earworm shit. Her and drake should fuck, have a kid and dominate streaming / twitter / fuckboi attention charts.

Culture vulture sculpture butcher / STITCHES STITCHES STITCHES. Jesus.

What is the quality you most like in a person?

WD: The ability to take criticism, to put aside self-interests for stability. I feel like people should, for the most part, strive towards some sort of stability and to put faith in the constancy of the world. There is an organic world at the depths of the one we live in and I think the detractors that hide this world are the ones who strive to destabilize nature. For example, a Chinese person is, by Confucian custom, pacific and generally servile (without trying to necessarily evade connotation). He doesn’t need to go against it if we’re to assume and believe that these traits are just part of being a Chinese man, but he does have to take criticism and think about how best to put external and internal together to find a more organic way of being.

党唯予: for once we agree, but only in a portion of that answer. A chink gotta take criticism, but not to sacrifice self-interests for stability. Take the criticism to make your self-interests stronger, which i believe goes hand in hand with the ability to take criticism. A chink gotta have integrity first and believe in his ideals, ones that don’t necessarily serve for stability. Ideally, there’s full subscription to the ideals. In a hardline way, as bad as that may be.  In fact, stability is boring as fuck, even in a marriage. Anything stable is dead. WD just wants to continue killing himself until he becomes another white spot in a white world. Those people are already gone and white, why do people want to continue doing that kind of shit.
[i’ve said jesus too many times]

on the idea that chinks are naturally subservient and whatever by Confucian custom, JESUS FUCKING MAO YOU STUPID ASS UNCLE CHAN. The idea of a docile Confucian chink man that just kind of does whatever is reality. The idea that this reality defines chinks and is an integral part of what chinks are is revisionist self-hatred. Why the fuck would a person think this is a good thing to preserve a twisted tradition. The organic society based upon mutual acceptance and trust in a system that sticks a broom up your ass is just sticking that broom further up your ass. Or rather, the kind of people that think pure cooperation and belief in a system like that are the kinds of people doing the sticking and not the receiving. Someone aligned with WD on these issues is likely the only person benefitting. That’s maybe the biggest fault in people.

Which words or phrases do you most overuse?

WD: I use words for politeness and try to use idioms to make communication comfortable. So, I don’t think I overuse any words.

党唯予: well, jesus for one. Maybe bruh. Maybe fiat. Fun question though. What bothers the fuck outta a chink is when idiots be spewing idiom after idiom and then confounding an idiom’s actual meaning with the meaning of the words inside. Straight up, learn the language or something.

Which talent would you most like to have?

WD:  I want to have Gandhi like powers of peace.

党唯予: Gandhi hates colored people that aren’t brown. Get the fuck outta here, of course you love that prick. I’d like the power to stop caring.

Where would you most like to live?

WD: I see my ideal location as Brentwood in LA. Like, you know, OJ Brentwood, putting aside, of course the whole purported psycho murderer OJ. Brentwood’s nice, man. Quaint place.

党唯予: in a pure vacuum, Yulin, shaanxi. But, a chink never get to go home again. Home isn’t there again. So a chink gonna answer with a fictive location: close proximity to a butcher, a chink grocery store, a wide variety of chink-run chink-made for-chink chinkstaurants, and ideally located on a public transit route.

What is your most treasured possession?

WD: My new identity and the freedom I have to be who I want, not circumscribed to the confines of a set race or whatever. Like I’m not Chinese, I’m white. Like a guy I know saying, I’m not white, I’m South African. That freedom in identity is what I cherish.

党唯予: hahahahahah

um well i guess i don’t treasure much. So a chink gonna say something like my refined taste for filtered coffees. No jokes. I’m gonna say the unique tolerance of spicy food and hick accent i’ve inherited in coming from Yulin, shaanxi, zhongguo. Wo ta made 也就是个山汉. Unlike mr. WD, i’m basically happy with the identity i have and don’t feel a need to pretend i’m something i’m not so people will accept me or to make the world more peaceful etc etc etc bitter etc. yeah i guess fucks would call me cisraced. Ha.

So my most treasured possession is strength of self-resilience and self-reliance.

What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?

WD: That strange in between moment when— nah, I’m gonna say that moment when I realized it would be easier to change my name and stuff. So I guess thanks mr. 党唯予 for that bit of awkward discomfort.

党唯予: that reassures me of the power of discourse.

I guess the lowest depth of misery is what WD speaks of. It’s that point where you can’t accept yourself and have to change in stupid ways like taking a white name or start bring different food outside or worrying about whether that chink food lingers on your mouth or whether a white person is gonna discriminate against you because you aren’t named Sarah Johnson or some stupid shit like that.

What is your favorite occupation?

WD: resting

党唯予: doctor. Lol. No. let’s say being angry.

Who are your favorite writers?

WD: Pearl Buck, Amy Tan, Jane Austen, Shakespeare, Kipling.

党唯予: Joyce Carol Oates, Wally S., Frank O’Hara, maybe Milton.

Who is your hero/heroine of fiction?

WD: Wang Lung / Mulan (?)

党唯予: Jules Wendall / Eve or Black Water’s narrator

Which historical figure do you most identify with?

WD: Amy Tan. Helped Chinese women become women. I’d like to help Chinese men become Chinese men. That would be a worthwhile mission, you know? Like Amy Tan writes about Chinese moms bragging about their daughters and I grew up with Chinese moms bragging about their sons. Yeah, that’s a good struggle.

党唯予: 3 year old poorhomiewei who gave some chink kid in big city day care a concussion for making fun of his hick accent. Yeah, that’s the dream, to go back to the true ballin young chink. Might start a new rap career with the name yc 912.

A chink been really thinking about this recently and it doesn’t make too much sense to identify with some one not a chink him/herself. Like shit, old man Confuzi used to say that all practiced routines are just ways to mess up a chink and take him away from being more versatile. So, in a sense, the only chink a chink should be is a chink.

Don’t believe that anyone should try to ‘identify’ that much with another chink. When a chink ‘identify,’ he cedes his ‘identity’ to someone else’s idea. In a sense, that could alloy and become stronger, also, in a sense that just homogenizes everything.

A chink think a more accurate way to ask this question would use the verb ‘empathize,’ unless of course the goal of this dominant culture is to make clonebots of all the good past people. Like TS Eliot. Shit, man and that tradition shit. Boi believes everything predetermined according to the organic society and what is ‘good.’ A chink tired of that shit. More interesting would be to break out of that vacuum and have traditions on different strands. His tradition thang just trying to promote dominant culture. Anything that would subvert it needs to, of course subvert something. So, if it be a chink who creates something of this ‘tradition,’ it’s two traditions that come together and probably subverts the larger tradition. Ideally, a chink responding because he ‘empathizes’ not because he ‘identifies’ and gives in, since when he gives in, he become a little whiteboi.

What is your greatest regret?

WD: I guess not branching out enough. I don’t want to be part of the model minority, but there’s some value in it, just trying to make friends and shit. I guess what I really regret is not trying to find more stability in life. I feel like to really get something of worth out of ‘creativity’ or whatever, you need some sort of sound foundation.

党唯予: not being able to write as well as a chink’d like in chinkese. That and having a whiteboi name and shit. No more, no less.

How would you like to die?

WD: happy.

党唯予: surrounded by a harem in zhongnanhai and then embalmed and cased in a glass thing in the middle of Tiananmen so all them white tourists can a see a chink

TE: that’s not the question. They’re asking how you want to die not how you want to be remembered.

党唯予: fine, a chink wanna die slurping some lamb noodles and then gagging on the spices and texture of the noodles. But the death gotta be theatrical in some way, like it’s scripted, so not quite gagging, but moreso satisfaction, like if a chink eats his goddamn noodles and just closes his eyes and the body stays composed and a chink is able to maintain the squat position in the middle of the street. Of course, this would not occur in America. Only place to die would be the ancestral home. Yes, that’s a perfect way to die. It would be apotheosis. Yes.

WD / TE: ...

What is your motto?
                                               
WD: stupid question

党唯予: agree to agree

01 May 2016

SUWU AND PIMPING OUT DISADVANTAGE


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why untitled/unmarked? google street view
DISCLAIMER
I almost never talk in normal prose on this blog, because I see no reason to indulge passive reading or people who can’t read past language. This time though, since this isn’t actually my own opinion, instead an actual attack on me because of the blog, I’m going to write to you in ‘proper’ English.

Suwu is a restaurant that’s on the same street as me, basically. I live on Prince Arthur/Laval. They’re on St-Laurent one door south of prince Arthur. So, I might consider Suwu a place in my neighborhood. They advertise themselves as such on twitter. Neighborhood is an interesting term to use for a bar with the name of a blood call. The restaurant itself has no distinguishing markers outside. It’s an all black storefront in the new post-post-color world. Blaring from their expensive speakers is, often, a song off To Pimp a Butterfly. That’s a favorite of all bars who call themselves hiphop. More specifically, I’ll guess the song is King Kunta, a record enjoyed by various colors from rich-merc-driving-botox women to the Canadian hockey team.

Let’s then think about what this song is about.

A slave in Alex Haley’s Roots, Kunta Kinte was whipped into conceding that his name is Toby and not Kunta. Then he had his foot cut off because he tried to escape the plantation. Let’s further assume that all this is reasonable of a slave narrative. You can’t expect a plantation owner to do anything different. Dark bodies were commodities white people profited off of. (As an aside, a predominantly white person who tries to say they have a mixed ancestor needs to renounce their citizenhood and think for a second whether or not it’s ok that they can choose to side with the side of their “heritage” that was disadvantaged. Think about whether or not you can exist in this world as you are if you were fully this side of heritage.) Kendrick Lamar aligns himself as a modern day Kunta Kinte who tries to evade the record industry qua plantation, but succeeds and creates an acclaimed piece of black music. Kinte inverts into a regal epithet of “King.” The slave narrative is still present, but the heritage is taken as a point of pride to taunt the dominant culture that does not quite allow it. Move back a level and think of how the record executives think of this. White man is probably not too happy that a black man is talking about how he’s black and disadvantaged in an empowering way.

Now, let’s think about what a white person profiting off of playing this song is doing. They pay the recording industry that actively stops black people from making this sort of music unless they have a gangster appeal and can sell to the white demographic. An exception, Kendrick Lamar happens to transcend this divide. Or is it an exception. Maybe the gangster appeal is a sort of aspiration this demographic tries to reflect in themselves. Yet, bottom line, the person playing this music at their establishment plays a hot record to please their crowd. This, for now, we’ll say is fine. Kendrick Lamar, for all his Blood ties and Compton roots, does transcend the gangster rap paradigm.

Now let’s think about someone who went to high school with Kendrick Lamar, influenced Kendrick Lamar, is also indebted to G-Funk, sells quite well himself, is a sort of a legend in his own right. This would be “The Game.” This fall, Game released two heavily Blood-influenced and massively popular albums, The Documentary 2 and The Documentary 2.5. Notably, on 2.5, there is a song, which people would call a banger, featuring two very popular rappers, Ty Dolla Sign and YG, both Bloods. At the beginning of each interior verse, suwu/suwoo/soowoo is sung three times as an overlapping texture. I guess, we’ll attribute this to each rappers asserting their affiliation. Now, let’s look further at the lyrics.

You ain’t never been dropped off in the jungles
Teared Khakis, red bandana wrapped around your knuckles

Game raps that the people listening to this song pretending to be gangsters have never been thrown into “the jungles.” Both connoting the animalistic aggression of gang-infested Compton, jungle also hints at the foliage characteristic of southern California. “Jungle” is far from a term uniquely found in the Game’s lexicon. Rather, this is a term widely used from Drake about a Toronto neighborhood named Lawrence Heights to Cam’ron about Harlem. Also notable, this jungle fever qua aesthetic is widely used as a potentially endearing term relaying white people’s attraction for black people, or tendency for ‘black’ behavior. Trace it back further, we get to white supremacy grand-father / literary icon / most white people’s first childhood exposure to Africa, Rudyard, “White Man’s Burden” and a Nobel, Kipling’s Jungle Book. We don’t really need to think too hard about the Jungle Book, but let’s think a bit about a bar that has a jungle aesthetic full of fake plants and hip hop music.

As a quick gloss, “Red Bandana” refers to a characteristic blood banner that gang-members carry to identify. Say, the physical double for the shout, suwu/suwoo/soowoo.

For simple paraphrasis, in this couplet, Game tells his listeners that they’ve never been to the projects or had to wear blood symbols to protect themselves. Again on the topic of exploited blacks, the record industry may sell this, and it is at the discretion of who ever chooses to profit off of this, but Game explicitly warns people against using jungle themes or blood aesthetics. Let’s consider for a second, individually, what the implications of a bar with a blood call name and a jungle décor represents.

On to the next lyric.

Flag on the left side claiming you a Blood
Blue rag on the right side calling niggas cuz
Bout to get your mark ass chalked out on the West

To define a few terms, “flag” and “rag” are the same as the above defined “bandana.” So to quickly get a meaning of these lines, when a blood member meets a crip, “blue,” member, and uses “cuz,” the blood version of “bro,” the crip will be killed, and “chalked out” by police.

We’ll say that this only occurs in gang hot beds in America and certainly not in Montreal, where the history of redlining, of blood-crip violence is very inconsequential, save of course, for the proliferation of gangster music that traces back in almost everycase to the blood-crip binary. Now that gangster rap is a popular mainstream genre, people may make money by playing it at a bar, for example, or using gang aesthetic for their establishments’, say, “vibe.”

So, back to suwu/suwoo/soowoo. As a blood call, an aural text that has no fixed transcription, any spelling is a derivative of the sound. Yet, as there seems to be more hits on google with suwoo, this seems to be the preferred form. Yet, again, Lil’ Wayne, another name that dominates rap bars’ playlists, titles his song “Soowoo.” As for “suwu,” we might imagine this to be the simplest way of spelling it, but also with a chink (or generally east asian) tinged look. Now say, a restaurant were to offer Tsingtao and some sort of Asian food, like say Korean bbq or used the chink 海鲜 (hoisin) sauce, or maybe had a drink named “wu-tang,” someone may be inclined to think, to think, that there is a strange fetishization of non-white culture. Su Wu, a han dynasty chink diplomat, happens to also be a chink idol for patriotism and resilience. Add in the fact that Su Wu was aided by the xiongnu, ancestors of this text editor, and maybe there exists a personal insult to be explored. But again, one may simply be inclined “to think.” Or inclined to write, or inclined to exercise language.

Now if one were to look at a certain menu and find drinks such as “lil’ cease” or “apple bottom” or “big bootie hoe” (perhaps most egregious), one could again be inclined to think that an appropriation of ebonics is happening. “lil’ cease,” apostrophe and all, appears to be a way to say Caesar, not quite a standard west island, white Anglophone way of talking. Again, “apple bottom” seems to refer to tribe called quest’s “bonita applebum” or flo rida’s “get low.” Both songs appear to objectify a woman’s ass. Now, “big bootie hoe” may provide us the most intriguing use of non-standard white language. Maybe this is speaking of gardening tools, or this could be a white male with jungle fever lusting after a black woman’s stereotyped big ass. Hmmm. Ok.

Now in this hypothetical bar, if one were to look, one would find an owner, white, taking pictures with dreadlocks. If one were to look at a hypothetical bar’s owner that is.

So, for all the uncanny references in these past 1000 or so words, I did comment on suwu’s facebook event about their use of gang terms. This was promptly deleted and I received an invitation to talk. Now, let’s look at these messages.



So, suwu is apparently short for Saintwoods. Interesting. It seems that something along the lines of Saiwoo would be more “short for saintwoods.” Maybe this man enjoys assonance. Or, maybe this man, as he admits “I mean I am aware of the blood reference but it’s not a racial term,” just appreciates the euphony that gangs use in their language. Also, I’m not sure if anyone can deny that gangs are not a direct product of white racism and oppression. Seems interesting then that someone can accept that their restaurant/ “neighborhood” bar (my bold (myblod?)) uses a term that incites violence.



Then the man says that these gangs don’t exist in montreal. Sure, but the music exists, and his hip hop bar would not exist in montreal without gangs either. That I am the only person to comment on this in 3 years seems even more interesting. Maybe there is a larger complicity for white kids or whoever that listens to gangster rap without understanding the music. Maybe I am privileged because I appreciate the music enough to try and understand why it was formed instead of using euphony to sell drinks named “big bootie hoe” to white kids entering a bar named after what is essentially a death knell to young black men.


 

“I’ve never exploited rap…I’m a major promoter of independent and up and coming rappers and none of them have ever said anything”

Maybe the racial binary where whites hold power in business negotiations doesn’t exist. Maybe record labels who will tell someone to change their music, major promoters of up and coming rappers, and helpers of independent rappers, have also never exploited rap. Maybe I should open a restaurant that serves jewish food named heil hitler.




Now the man criticizes my blog, which I guess is fair because I criticized his business. Yet, I don’t think my criticism of him making money off of selling a brand named after a blood cry and playing hip hop music is quite the same as me writing a blog about my experiences and thoughts as a chink trying to recreate a chink identity. 


SUWU as a title objectifies black men as thugs and gangsters. Their beloved drink, the "big bootie hoe," objectifies black women as sex objects. Their owner, in doing this, provides an exceptional service to whites with jungle fever and a love of ignorance. Anyone I personally know in Montreal reading this goes to university. If you attend higher education and don’t value the importance of language, maybe you should try to think about what meaning is left in your life without language. If you love having fun at SUWU, maybe you should think about how much fun you had as a kid saying “retard” or “fag.” But now these words get full on attention campaigns, as they should. Yet you love saying stupid shit from “thug” to “big bootie hoe” to “suwu.”

Maybe it’s because these words don’t affect you as white people. Maybe it’s because you as white people feel guilty that you are complicit in creating the gang violence. Maybe you think that living in Montreal provides a safe buffer from American gang violence. What if the bar was named hell’s angels? What if it was named after a white person slang or slur? What if it didn't make you feel “black” or hipster to go? What if you were implicated in the creation of racism? But you also incessantly talk about the American election as if you had a stake in it. And gang violence and racism is just another thing you sweep under the rug and don’t try to understand. Keep at this and we’ll all see the decay of language and decay of meaning. We’ll all be white kids with dreadlocks and gang tattoos throwing up suwu signs like it's cool.

Maybe I’m defensive and took this as a personal threat. Maybe a white man is upset at me because I pointed out a questionable thing in his business. Maybe I’m playing the victim. Maybe he’s a victim of himself. Maybe suwu is ok to say. Maybe a place that gives people happy times is good. Maybe white people making money off of racially insensitive material is ok. Maybe borat is a great representation of Kazakhstan. Maybe suwu is a satire as well. Maybe satire like borat is tasteful. Maybe suwu is tasteful. Maybe I’m just wrong and just another chink that doesn’t know my place in the world and needs to be told. Maybe a white man is allowed to make money off of a blood call. Maybe insensitivity is great. Maybe I’m just too sensitive.