Goodbye Horses

Damn, I'm sorry for being so inconsistent, but I've finally decided what I'm going to do. As it is, it's too late now to hide any posts, and at this point, I don't really give a fuck anymore.

So, this blog is back up but it ends here, and I'm starting another one.

If you've stumbled onto this blog and haven't been completely offended and would like to read more, I just want to let you know that I freaked out over some privacy issues a couple of days ago and have decided to kill this blog.

I'm starting a new, permissions-only blog at a different site address, so please continue sending your email addresses to chiotzai@gmail.com with either a short introduction (don't worry, I'm not interested in picking apart your life, I just want to know that you really exist) or a link to your own blog.

As promised, this new blog will be less circumspect and possibly will have more sexy topics. Hopefully, my writing will improve from that. It'll be up in a couple of days and with pictures of my post-graffiti roof!

Huh...this year really is all about making changes. Interesting.

But Not Tonight

I still haven't changed my mind about Japanese kids being the cutest ones I've ever seen, but Hong Kong kids can be all sorts of boss, too.

I was playing with a friend's three-year-old kid earlier today, and man, did she tsk me repeatedly in Cantonese.

Tong-Tong: What's that in your nose?
Me: It's a ring, don't you like it?
Tong-Tong: No!
Me: Is it really ugly?
Tong-Tong: Yeah. Take it out and put some makeup on, and then you''ll find a boyfriend.
Me: Wah! Is that so?

She showed me her remote control car, and let it zoom around the sidewalk for a while.

Me: Can't you make it go any faster?
Tong-Tong: TSK! We have speed limits in Hong Kong, you know! TSK!
Me: Aiyah! Sorry!

When I was younger, I was really ambivalent about children. They liked me but I didn't really know how to deal with them. Now that I'm old, I feel more comfortable with them. How funny it is that now that I'm practically too old to have children, I'm finally enjoying being around them. But then, perhaps that's the reason?

This entry is going to be a bit choppy since I'm on a couple of painkillers to help me deal with my period. My period is almost over, but I'm still feeling a bit shitty. I've been spending the day eating Cheetos and re-watching Coffee Prince, a really fucking boss Korean TV drama.

The plot centres around this androgynous-looking chick, Go Eun Chan, who has to pretend to be a guy to keep her job, even as she and the manager of the cafe where she works fall in love with each other. He feels tormented at first by the thought that he might be gay, then, he bravely decides to go for it anyway, only to be told that she is a girl, and that she's been lying to him all this time, even though she knew that he was fucked up by the whole situation.

Sigh...my eyes are swollen from crying, even though this is the second time I've watched this drama. It's fucking brilliant -- it's funny, sad, sweet, romantic -- and the acting is incredible. I would really recommend this.

I really love how Korean dramas keep it real -- the characters and locations are really down-to-earth and believable. In other dramas or movies with a similar plot, the Go Eun Chan character would be played by some hot chick who wouldn't even look like a dude, but the actress playing Go Eun Chan is perfect: shitty haircut, bad posture, no makeup or vanity.

I think I'm also moved by how falling in love and relationships are portrayed in Coffee Prince -- so terrifyingly realistic. I really don't think I'd want to fall in love again. I honestly don't think it's worth it, but then, I've only ever had crappy experiences with that. There was that chick, and I fell in love with her simply because she adored me first. It's so strange looking back at it: I had absolutely no feelings for her until the moment she confessed her feelings for me, and then it was like someone set me on fire.

With Anonymous ABC, I just fell in love with an illusion, and as soon as I realized that, the feelings just went away. My biggest problem was not being honest with myself: if I'd only admitted that I was hanging on simply because I believed that I'd given up so much to be with him, that I was being misguidedly loyal because I didn't want to be a commitment-phobic asshole, and that most importantly, I was doing this out of self-destructiveness, things would have ended much sooner.

Last year, I finally learned not to lie to myself. It was a very difficult lesson, but I really hope to stay true to it. I have to say, it sucks to see the shitty things about yourself, but I'm much happier for it.

One of the things I finally admitted to myself is that I'm loyal but not faithful. It's a horrible thing -- I can be devoted to someone, and yet not be able to commit to them exclusively. I really need to be independent and alone. I guess that's why most of my relationships have been long-distance ones. The psychic did tell me that only one guy could make me faithful, and I suppose that's why I'm sort of avoiding him.

At the same time, as I've said before, I hate the whole process of being in love and putting together a relationship. I don't even really know how to do that, anymore. I hate the feeling of being in love, and I am impatient with the boredom that settles in once that love calms down.

Maybe I'll change my mind one day, but really, I can't imagine accommodating another person in my life again. I like the idea of adopting a kid or a dog, but otherwise...

Anyway, I don't think I'll be meeting anyone who'll make me fall anytime soon. I suppose I'm picky, but most guys also don't want to deal with me. JL and I were talking about chicks who dress slutty the other day, and I said, "I dress like a hooker, but no one treats me like a hooker."

JL: That's because you're SCARY.

Speaking of JL, I also wanted to write a bit about this expat event that EK, JL and I went to yesterday called Clockenflap.

Me: They should've called it Fuckencrap instead.
JL: Why aren't there any locals here?
Me: 'Cause this is for lame people only. I'm so glad I don't recognize anyone here. These are the people who can't get into an exclusive club even though they're white.
JL: Hahaha! You're right.

The whole thing was really boring, the highlight was probably when I accidentally destroyed an art installation. It was some kind of audio equipment with buttons, switches and levers, and I guess I play hard because a part of it broke off.

I immediately turned around and ran off.

I really hate events like that. It's an event for wannabe-hipster gweilos to make them feel like they're part of some bogus alternative scene. There were the usual types of characters there like the fat hippie gweipo with dreadlocks dancing some weird Riverdance type shit.

JL: I know what a black guy feels like when he's in an all-white club now.

The only Asians there were with gweilos/gweipos or mixed-race Asians. For some reason, I was reminded of that New York ABC who came here to start some comedy club where most of the comedians are either ABCs or gweilos whose jokes centre around making fun of locals. That particular dude's comedy act involves whining about how Asian chicks only date gweilos, and yet he's always with some gweipo.

You know, I realize that you can be a hypocrite and still make valid criticisms about the system. After all, I'm a fucking hypocrite, too. But to be so blind to your own hypocrisy and feel so self-righteous about landing a gweipo...just...diew.

I'm really glad that I don't feel attracted to Asian Americans anymore. Some of you make good friends, but as boyfriends...no thanks.

Anyway, as an example of my own hypocrisy, at Fuckencrap, I was surveying all those Asians frolicking about with gweilos and mixed-race Asians and was about to open my mouth to tsk and criticize when I realized that I was with JL.

Sigh, long live the colonial empire.

Dancing With Myself

Went up to the roof to see how they were getting on with the graffiti this afternoon.





LS (the graffiti artist): Haha! It looks like you! You should keep it.
Me: Hm...

I'm really tempted. I know, I'm so narcissistic. It is a pretty amazing piece of work, though.

Girls Don't Like Boys, Girls Like Cars and Money

Back in Starbucks today, I picked up the issue of Non-no that I raved about last time, and I realized that I totally forgot to write about one of the best features they had. They put together a recommended weekly eating plan, and it was so great to see them telling girls to eat healthy, but at the same time, suggesting that girls eat between 1,800 to 2,200 calories a day.

I really want to suggest to every chick to read that magazine because it makes you feel really great about your body. They simply brush aside the idea that you can only be stylish if you're incredibly skinny. I don't agree with quite a few of the clothing choices as I'm twice the age of their target readership and way past looking cute, but I am happy to see how stylish the chubby chicks are.

In fact, I would say a lot of Japanese magazines like Egg, the Gosu-loli ones (I can't remember the name of this one, sorry), and Cutie, just to name a few, usually feature girls with all kinds of body types, and they invariably look very adorable.

Maybe I've been reading too many Hong Kong magazines, but it is so fucking great to pick up a fashion magazine and see a chick with round thighs rocking Daisy Dukes and looking damn happy.

Yes, Non-no, I believe you now! I love my disgusting big ass!

And the best part is that boys are hardly mentioned in those magazines unless it's to drool over. As far as I can make out, nobody talks about whether boys prefer thin or curvy chicks, it's simply all about how boss your swagger can be regardless of body type.

Calleth You, Cometh I

Oh, so busy, I shouldn't be writing, but I just wanted to say, like any other self-respecting brown person, I was thrilled when Barack Obama took the Iowa caucus. The news that Hillary Clinton took the New Hampshire primary was a bit of a blow.

Here's a great clip from Chris Rock about Obama and the American presidency.



He brings up a really amazing point, and that is how "everybody loves white women, except white women. White women are the majority of this country and they've had the right to vote for almost a hundred years and still they've never elected a white woman president."

This is exactly one of the problems I have with feminism, which, in my mind, is inextricably linked to Western feminism. The old school feminists -- Wollestonecraft, Woolf, de Beauvoir -- they were right that women should have rights usually only accorded to men. As a type of critical thinking that deconstructs and addresses patriarchy, feminism is great.

However, the state of Western feminism now really disgusts me. Most women seem to think that if they drink, curse, smoke, fuck and generally behave as asshole-y as men do, they're being feminists.

Er, no, you're just being alcoholic, chainsmoking, foul-mouthed, slutty assholes. I mean, I'm guilty of quite a few of those qualities, but I don't pass it off as being "feminist."

Instead of challenging the problems inherent in gender roles, it seems that these feminists just want to be like men (who are immediately assigned qualities such as strength, toughness, etc.). Isn't that the most fucking retarded thing? It's assuming that only by acting like a stereotypical dude and rejecting so-called "weak chick traits" like emotional attachment can a you be a feminist. It's so retarded that they assign gender to traits like this in the first place, for fuck's sake.

When a brown person tries to imitate white people, when they say that "white qualities" are better than "brown qualities," we laugh at them and call them names like banana or Oreo or coconut. When a chick tries to imitate a dude, we're supposed to applaud them?

I think that's why there are also a lot of problems surrounding sexual liberation and how feminism has kind of fucked it up. I honestly believe that the "sexual revolution" came at the wrong time. Instead of exploring the idea that women should not be punished or ostracized for being sexually active, it has mostly supported patriarchy by allowing men easy access to pussy without actually challenging notions of sex and sexuality.

It's like forcing democracy on an uneducated, poverty-stricken post-colonial country: it's a false solution that seems great on the surface but doesn't address real problems in the system. The masses don't actually understand the responsibility and significance of their rights, and so randomly -- and often, stupidly -- exercise them without any thought to how it can rebuild their country. They just become selfish and want revenge. This is a story that is repeated ad nauseum -- the current newspaper star being Kenya.

Sexual liberation has followed a similar pattern: Western feminism encourages women to be sexually active but it doesn't actually address problems with female sexuality in the patriarchy. Western feminism has put sex on the forefront without making anyone responsible for it (although I suppose that's a typically Western approach).

I mean, the message I'm getting is that the more guys you fuck, the stronger you are as a woman because you're just like a man.

...what? Does that make sense? Ultimately, I get the sense that a lot of feminists hate women and particularly hate being women. I suppose that's one thing we have in common, except I admit I'm a misogynist and have severe gender identity issues.

It's such a shame. I really like magazines like Bitch for their deconstruction of pop culture and patriarchal pressures on women, but magazines like the now-dead (thank God) Jane, with the exact same kind of feminism that I just wrote about, are really horrific pieces of shit. If I had a child, and I caught them reading that, I'd beat them with a boot and then make them read Hustler, instead.

Anyway, with all that talk about gender roles and things like that, I wanted to share one of my favourite songs, "Calleth You, Cometh I," from a Swedish band called the Ark. The lead singer is a straight guy who's extremely gay. It's boss.

I used to play this song over and over for a few weeks when I was living in Italy, especially when I was living in my first flat there.

I used to cross this bridge every day to go to the workshop with this song in my ears.



Yes, that's Ponte Carraia, the bridge I used to stand on and contemplate jumping into the Arno river just to see what would happen.

Some other bridge:



My second flat was around the corner from this church. I'm pretty sure that's Santa Maria Novella. A lot of drug addicts gathered around there at night. Rough area.



It all looks so pretty in pictures, doesn't it? But while I was there, it didn't move me at all. It was just a place where I lived, I knew on an intellectual level that it was beautiful, but I was pretty emotionally dead to it. In Europe, I was most impressed with Barcelona.

Anyway, the Ark.

Alone, Jealous and Stoned

The title isn't referring to me but to the group of people that are fucking annoying the shit out of me right now (and I mean this almost literally because I pooed three lovely times today). Motherfucking straight men are so fucking retarded. Stop fucking drunk dialing me! I went to bed at three in the morning last night, do you fucking realize how rare it is for me to feel sleepy before dawn??

Some motherfucker called me at around four, waking me me up. I looked at my call display, and it said "Private Number," so I took the call, thinking it could be my parents calling me. But no, it was some retarded, drunk (or high) motherfucker slurring out endearments in that annoying "sweet talk" voice and calling me "Loy Loy."

Fuck! I hung up right away and had fitful sleep after. Leave me the fuck alone this week!

Anyway, the film production company that I grudgingly allowed to film is setting up on my roof. They've got some gweilo graffiti artist fucking the place up.

Actually, dude is pretty cool. He is French, which is good, because I was concerned that there might be a bunch of Americans on my roof, and that is unacceptable.

They're also using my electricity, but they agreed to pay for it. Damn cock right, diew lo mei!

Some pics I took this afternoon when they started. I assume I don't need to go into how only in a postcolonial society can a gweilo graffiti artist show up and then be hired to do events and movies, right? And yet, like I said, dude is pretty cool. So far. Ah...the wonderful ambivalence and compromise of postcolonial life. Although I do think that I'm really on the sensitive side, but I can't change because people need haters like me and my friends.











I still haven't gotten the pictures from that hair and makeup dress rehearsal, but here's one I took when I got home. The "theme" for this look was something like being dirty and wandering in the desert. You can't see it in this picture, but my hair is braided and knotted in the back, and pinned in place with a hundred very painful hairpins.

I look so trantastic.



Is my life really that exciting? It really puzzles me when people say that it is, I think it's fairly boring, it's not like I go out and party all the time (although that would be painfully boring to me and for this blog -- can you imagine entry upon entry about clubs and getting drunk?). I wonder how boring other people's lives must be if mine is already relatively exciting.

And You Give Yourself Away

I cannot begin to explain how overjoyed I was to open up the latest issue of Non-no and see a feature cautioning girls against the dreaded spider-eyelash effect. I would've shed a few tears but I'm wearing eyeliner today, and if there's anything I've learned from Korean television dramas, it doesn't matter if the guy you've hopelessly fallen in love with has finally realized his feelings for you only to be hit by a car, resulting in the amputation of his legs and ruining his career as an athlete, you cry only if you're sure that it will enhance your cuteness, and that cannot be done if you have black streaks all over your face.

Make Up Forever's waterproof eyeliners are the best I've ever tried, but even they can't withstand my tears, as I found out after watching Coffee Prince. Speaking of, I need to put up a review of that fantastic Korean drama at some point.

Anyway, I really can't emphasize enough how much I adore Non-no more each day. As usual, they used normal chicks as models, with body types that ranged from chubby to skinny. I was especially moved today by the presence of a model with a big-ass nose and freckles like mine.

You know, my mom's family in Taiwan has been there for generations, even before the Kuomintang. I always assumed we had non-stereotypical Taiwanese features because of aboriginal Taiwanese blood. That would also explain the healing factor we have (one of the grievances that aboriginals in Taiwan have against the Taiwanese government is that those motherfuckers keep kidnapping us and taking blood samples because supposedly, we are relatively immune to a host of illnesses, including HIV/AIDS. Stupid fucking Taiwanese bitching about China when they're doing worse shit at home. No wonder the Taiwanese and American governments get along so well, they're both fond of criticizing other people while conveniently ignoring their own bullshit. I hope China invades the fucking island and takes your fucking blood, too.) My mom did mention, though, that the Japanese colonizers also married / raped / had sex with aboriginal women generations ago. I wonder if that's where the nose and freckles come from.

Fucking Japs!! First you rape my peoples, then you give us FRECKLES, which are basically skin STDs!! DAMN YOU! But I can't stay angry at my sushi-eating cousins because of Hello Kitty and Non-no. You are forgiven, just stop lying in your fucking textbooks, motherfuckers. And stop charging so much for Kobe beef, diew.

Anyway, some people have asked me why I'm writing less in this blog, and really, it's not because I don't have anything to write about, it's just that a lot of shit I want to write about involves too many other people who don't want to be written about. Also, I'm contemplating the direction in which this blog should be moving.

Look: I started writing this blog because I was angry and bored in Italy, and I was too lazy to email all my friends about what was happening. Originally, my idea was just to write about stuff that happened to me in mini-narratives. I was kind of hoping that people would be able to read between the lines, to see the ambivalence and anger and frustration and weirdness of life in post-colonial Asia as experienced by someone who was born and raised here and occupies a strange, uncomfortable position in the colonial hierarchy. I really thought that people would be intelligent enough to see the humour and hypocrisy behind the shit I wrote.

Unfortunately, it seems that quite a few people who read this blog are really retarded and don't get it. One day, I'll put up an MSN conversation I had with one of them -- a New York ABC, of course.

I really didn't want to capitulate to these people, but at the same time, it worried me that there could be some teen-aged chick in Manila or Bangkok who could be reading this and thinking that because I wasn't overtly criticizing retarded colonial shit, then it was okay. And I would hate to further alienate and confuse a chick like that. So, I wrote a lot more "critical" stuff and honestly, I am ambivalent about that, still.

I am not a post-colonial fucking supehero. I like to wear my underwear on the inside too much. I'm not any better than anyone else, but I do have a lot of spare time and enough privilege to talk about the things I observe, and I hope that I am just as critical about my hypocrisy as I am about others'.

I can't say that I'm not an asshole, that I'm not supporting imperialist institutions -- I mean, I talk about Starbucks and McDonald's all the time for a reason: to show how much I rely on predatory multinational corporations -- but I hope I'm real about it.



ps.

Cantonese speakers will shit themselves laughing over this audio recording of a telemarketer speaking with a really polite dude who can't seem to stop cursing at the same time.

The English translation of the conversation would be something like:

Telemarketer: How much did you pay, sir?
Potty Mouth Uncle (thoughtfully and politely): Cock if I remember. Fuck your mother, I paid the cock bill, cost me this cock much, fuck his mother, I have to drop a few swear words first, sorry, fuck your mother.

Oh my God! I am so inspired to go around responding with "Cock if I remember" or "Cock if I know" now.

Adults Just Learn to Play the Most Ridiculous, Repulsive Games

Alright, I've had my fill of going out and hanging out with straight men. Jesus fucking cheebye, only SY didn't grate on my nerves the past week. Straight men are some of the most socially-retarded and high-maintenance people around.

Kev must have been really awesome because I put up with him for such a long time, and he wasn't really that annoying.

Funnily enough, I was whining about straight men since last Thursday to straight men like SJ and SY, but today was the absolutely breaking point. I was on the escalators when this older dude in his late forties asked me where I got my prayer beads. He had a terrible combover and was wearing a very ill-fitting suit, so I kind of felt sorry for him, even though he addressed me in English, which makes me paranoid that people think I'm a tourist.

I responded in Cantonese and told him that it was a gift and that you couldn't actually buy it.

Combover: Are you Chinese?
Me (paranoid that he'll try to sell me overpriced electronics): YES.
Combover: You're not from Hong Kong, are you?
Me: No.
Combover: My name is Joseph.

He extended his hand to me, and as I shook it, that haam sap motherfucker rubbed his fingers on my palm and asked, "Can I be your friend?"

MOTHER CHEEBYE FUCK!

I nearly jumped out of my skin. I snatched my hand back and snapped, "NO!" I turned my back on him and walked up the escalators, fuming.

I blame this on not wearing my septum ring and being dressed somewhat conservatively today. I must look like an overpriced PRC hooker when I'm dressed skankily because guys rarely approach me. That's the secret to being unmolested.

Ugh!! I'm going to hide all next week, I'm so sick of straight men. I even had another fucking encounter with an insecure ABC on New Year's Eve. (I had a small gathering on my roof, and it got so cold that we ended up burning cardboard boxes on the barbecue grill, and we huddled around it like homeless people. Baller!)

I was talking about a rock band and how they got famous and what their personalities were like, and this retarded, chinless ABC kept interrupting and contradicting me with fucking inane comments. Finally, I barked at him, "Look, I went on tour with these guys, DID YOU??"

That shut him up, but later, he came up to me and tried to compete with me in terms of how many drugs he'd done.

What the fuck! He was JL's guest, and I have to say, JL and I attract the same kind of insecure ABCs. JL already got burned by an insecure ABC, and I warned him about DN, and now he's all paranoid about ABCs, too.

Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with ABCs from New York? Out of all the ABCs I've met, the ones from New York (with the exception of a couple, including Curt) are the weirdest, more immature, most insecure, most socially-inept, most annoying mama's boys. I honestly don't know what it is about me that makes them zero in on me and try to compare lan chiaos.


Five hours later...

Alright, I just got back home, and I'm feeling much better. I have a teatime date tomorrow with a boss chick, S, and I just spent five hours with a bunch of chicks and gays. WC and his boyfriend are producing some fashion show, and they wanted to do a hair and make up dress rehearsal and asked me if I could be a model for them since I have such amazing hair. He also offered to feed me as much as I want.

Let me see...five hours of being cooed over by gay men while I eat myself sick? Of course I was generous enough to agree.

Anyway, they slapped on a shitload of makeup on me. I don't think I've ever worn so much cosmetics in my life. I have to say, I look pretty awful in makeup. I look like a drag queen, but in a non-fabulous way.

However, they gave me a blowout, and my hair was so straight and shiny that the gays just gathered around in awe and stroked my locks reverently.

Tonight was exactly what I needed. It was so relaxing, no stupid competitiveness or alpha male retarded posturing or awkward social skills. I ate a whole pizza, chicken wings and fried cheese. Every time I walked past a gay guy, he would reach out and touch up my hair.

WC said he'd email some pictures to me, I'll put them up some time. I am content.

So How You Gonna Bring the State Down When You're Propping It Up, Part Two

I just had to sigh when I read this article in the Washington Post. It doesn't surprise me that the United States is still trying to manipulate geo-politically valuable countries. I'm sighing mostly because I realize that no one really cares about this anymore.

Basically, the article says that Bhutto's return to Pakistan was just part of some big American scheme to keep Musharraf in power and to make sure that American interests were still being pursued. Imperialism is alive and well, so I don't understand why people think colonization doesn't matter anymore.

What makes me laugh is that people don't seem to see how fucked up this is: the American government (and people) keep bleating about democracy BUT LOOK AT WHAT THE FUCK THEY'RE DOING! It's like the freedom of brown people can only occur if it's limited within an imperialist context. Does that make sense? You know what I mean, right?

And you know, even back here in Asia, no one gives a shit about news like this. We're so used to this that we've become cynical and practically expect this. It's so fucking sad.

I've been asked before by a gweilo why it is that non-whites are so eager to believe in conspiracy theories. Well, it's because shit like this happens all the time. We know deep down that white institutions are out to get us, and we get all fucked up in the head from paranoia.

Fatima Bhutto was right. I hope she stays safe.

U.S. Brokered Bhutto's Return to Pakistan
White House Would Back Her as Prime Minister While Musharraf Held Presidency

By Robin Wright and Glenn Kessler
Washington Post Staff Writers
Friday, December 28, 2007; A01

For Benazir Bhutto, the decision to return to Pakistan was sealed during a telephone call from Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice just a week before Bhutto flew home in October. The call culminated more than a year of secret diplomacy -- and came only when it became clear that the heir to Pakistan's most powerful political dynasty was the only one who could bail out Washington's key ally in the battle against terrorism.

It was a stunning turnaround for Bhutto, a former prime minister who was forced from power in 1996 amid corruption charges. She was suddenly visiting with top State Department officials, dining with U.N. Ambassador Zalmay Khalilzad and conferring with members of the National Security Council. As President Pervez Musharraf's political future began to unravel this year, Bhutto became the only politician who might help keep him in power.

"The U.S. came to understand that Bhutto was not a threat to stability, but was instead the only possible way that we could guarantee stability and keep the presidency of Musharraf intact," said Mark Siegel, who lobbied for Bhutto in Washington and witnessed much of the behind-the-scenes diplomacy.

But the diplomacy that ended abruptly with Bhutto's assassination yesterday was always an enormous gamble, according to current and former U.S. policymakers, intelligence officials and outside analysts. By entering into the legendary "Great Game" of South Asia, the United States also made its goals and allies more vulnerable -- in a country in which more than 70 percent of the population already looked unfavorably upon Washington.

Bhutto's assassination leaves Pakistan's future -- and Musharraf's -- in doubt, some experts said. "U.S. policy is in tatters. The administration was relying on Benazir Bhutto's participation in elections to legitimate Musharraf's continued power as president," said Barnett R. Rubin of New York University. "Now Musharraf is finished."

Bhutto's assassination also demonstrates the growing power and reach of militant anti-government forces in Pakistan, which pose an existential threat to the country, said J. Alexander Thier, a former U.N. official now at the U.S. Institute for Peace. "The dangerous cocktail of forces of instability exist in Pakistan -- Talibanism, sectarianism, ethnic nationalism -- could react in dangerous and unexpected ways if things unravel further," he said.

But others insist the U.S.-orchestrated deal fundamentally altered Pakistani politics in ways that will be difficult to undo, even though Bhutto is gone. "Her return has helped crack open this political situation. It's now very fluid, which makes it uncomfortable and dangerous," said Isobel Coleman of the Council on Foreign Relations. "But the status quo before she returned was also dangerous from a U.S. perspective. Forcing some movement in the long run was in the U.S. interests."

Bhutto's assassination during a campaign stop in Rawalpindi might even work in favor of her Pakistan People's Party, with parliamentary elections due in less than two weeks, Coleman said. "From the U.S. perspective, the PPP is the best ally the U.S. has in terms of an institution in Pakistan."

Bhutto's political comeback was a long time in the works -- and uncertain for much of the past 18 months. In mid-2006, Bhutto and Musharraf started communicating through intermediaries about how they might cooperate. Assistant Secretary of State Richard A. Boucher was often an intermediary, traveling to Islamabad to speak with Musharraf and to Bhutto's homes in London and Dubai to meet with her.

Under U.S. urging, Bhutto and Musharraf met face to face in January and July in Dubai, according to U.S. officials. It was not a warm exchange, with Musharraf resisting a deal to drop corruption charges so she could return to Pakistan. He made no secret of his feelings.

In his 2006 autobiography "In the Line of Fire," Musharraf wrote that Bhutto had "twice been tried, been tested and failed, [and] had to be denied a third chance." She had not allowed her own party to become democratic, he alleged. "Benazir became her party's 'chairperson for life,' in the tradition of the old African dictators!"

A turning point was Bhutto's three-week U.S. visit in August, when she talked again to Boucher and to Khalilzad, an old friend. A former U.S. ambassador in neighboring Afghanistan, Khalilzad had long been skeptical about Musharraf, and while in Kabul he had disagreed with then-Secretary of State Colin L. Powell over whether the Pakistani leader was being helpful in the fight against the Taliban. He also warned that Pakistani intelligence was allowing the Taliban to regroup in the border areas, U.S. officials said.

When Bhutto returned to the United States in September, Khalilzad asked for a lift on her plane from New York to Aspen, Colo., where both were giving speeches. They spent much of the five-hour plane ride strategizing, said sources familiar with the diplomacy.

Friends say Bhutto asked for U.S. help. "She pitched the idea to the Bush administration," said Peter W. Galbraith, a former U.S. ambassador and friend of Bhutto from their days at Harvard. "She had been prime minister twice, and had not been able to accomplish very much because she did not have power over the most important institutions in Pakistan -- the ISI [intelligence agency], the military and the nuclear establishment," he said.

"Without controlling those, she couldn't pursue peace with India, go after extremists or transfer funds from the military to social programs," Galbraith said. "Cohabitation with Musharraf made sense because he had control over the three institutions that she never did. This was the one way to accomplish something and create a moderate center."

The turning point to get Musharraf on board was a September trip by Deputy Secretary of State John D. Negroponte to Islamabad. "He basically delivered a message to Musharraf that we would stand by him, but he needed a democratic facade on the government, and we thought Benazir was the right choice for that face," said Bruce Riedel, a former CIA officer and National Security Council staff member now at the Brookings Institution's Saban Center for Middle East Policy.

"Musharraf still detested her, and he came around reluctantly as he began to recognize this fall that his position was untenable," Riedel said. The Pakistani leader had two choices: Bhutto or former prime minister Nawaz Sharif, whom Musharraf had overthrown in a 1999 military coup. "Musharraf took what he thought was the lesser of two evils," Riedel said.

Many career foreign policy officials were skeptical of the U.S. plan. "There were many inside the administration, at the State and Defense Departments and in intelligence, who thought this was a bad idea from the beginning because the prospects that the two could work together to run the country effectively were nil," said Riedel.

As part of the deal, Bhutto's party agreed not to protest against Musharraf's reelection in September to his third term. In return, Musharraf agreed to lift the corruption charges against Bhutto. But Bhutto sought one particular guarantee -- that Washington would ensure Musharraf followed through on free and fair elections producing a civilian government.

Rice, who became engaged in the final stages of brokering a deal, called Bhutto in Dubai and pledged that Washington would see the process through, according to Siegel. A week later, on Oct. 18, Bhutto returned.

Ten weeks later, she was dead.

Xenia Dormandy, former National Security Council expert on South Asia now at Harvard University's Belfer Center, said U.S. meddling is not to blame for Bhutto's death. "It is very clear the United States encouraged" an agreement, she said, "but U.S. policy is in no way responsible for what happened. I don't think we could have played it differently."

U.S. policy -- and the commitment to Musharraf -- remains unchanged. In a statement yesterday, Rice appealed to Pakistanis to remain calm and to continue seeking to build a "moderate" democracy.

"I don't think it would do any justice to her memory to have an election postponed or canceled simply as a result of this tragic incident," State Department spokesman Tom Casey told reporters. "The only people that win through such a course of action are the people who perpetrated this attack."

Staff writer Thomas E. Ricks and staff researcher Julie Tate contributed to this report.

Against the Daylight

Damn. I found out Benazir Bhutto was assassinated just as I was about to upload this entry. I'm really kind of shocked, regardless of what I think of her, she did make an impact in world affairs.

I just can't imagine the turmoil in Pakistan right now. It must be insane, and I'm kind of embarrassed to go on with this narcissistic entry, but it's pretty much complete, so...um...here it is. I'm really retarded.



Still fooling around with my gender identity. I really don't know how comfortable I am being a girl or being a boy.

Here I am in my work clothes, feeling really macho and comfortable. I need more of these coveralls, but I hate buying them new since they're all stiff and scratchy.





Haha, I look like a twelve-year-old boy in the last one. Where's my damn beard?

And here I am pretending to be a girl with eyeliner on. I fucked up my bangs/fringe a few weeks ago, fuck. I'm just going to let them grow and stop trying to trim them.

These pictures are also proof that I am actually able to smile and that I have nice teeth. People actually ask me if I refuse to smile for pictures because I have bad teeth. Uh, no, motherfuckers, I am just TOO FUCKING HARD to smile.



Look at how happy I am to have fucked-up hair.













Don't I look so fucking harmless? I don't know why people think I'm so intimidating.

We Few, We Happy Few, We Band of Ruthless Bastards

So much for being disciplined and productive over the holidays. JL and his absolutely adorable guitarist, JC, were planning to hide from the Christmas festivities and work on songs but we all decided to go for Thai food in Kowloon City with EK on Christmas Eve, instead.

EL was supposed to go but balked at the last minute.

EL: KOWLOON CITY??
Me: Yah lah.
EL: WHY?
Me: We like the food there and we're all unemployed and poor.
EL: Uh, I'll just meet you guys for drinks.

We ended up hanging out till six in the morning, although EK had to fuck off at around one.

JL: My face hurts from laughing.
Me: I'm hungry again, I think I burned too many calories laughing.

I don't really know what to write about Christmas because I don't celebrate it, and neither do most of the people I know. A lot of people were asking us to go to clubs, which kind of horrified us.

JL: If I went to a fucking club tonight, I'd feel so terribly lonely.

I agree. I don't know why people would want to go to clubs or feel so pressured to CELEBRATE holidays. I guess it's when people realize how lonely they really are and they just need to go out and assuage it somehow. But doesn't it just make you feel worse overpaying to be crushed in a sea of people who are desperate to enjoy themselves because they can't address their loneliness?

I had a good time just kicking back with a bunch of guys who are so secure in who they are that they accept me for myself and don't feel like they have to prove anything to me. I was telling JL how much I love talking about music with him and JC because they can talk about obscure bands but they don't act like they're so much cooler than you because they know about these bands and you don't. They're not trying to show off, they're simply just talking about shit that they love. At the end of our music conversations, we always trade MP3s and discover new bands or music that we end up liking.

And we're all totally cool with not having "hip" musical tastes -- I was obsessing over "Gimme More," JC was fondly reminiscing about his first concert, which was Jackie Cheung, and JL kept breaking out into Justin Timberlake and Usher songs.

It made me think: the reason I think the four of us are so relaxed around each other is that we're all very socially fluent. We all have pretty highly-developed social skills, which, funnily enough, have made us very anti-social.

In my case, despite what you might think, I'm a social beast, but I'm so used to socializing that it's become boring and tiring. Most people aren't very interesting, so very often, the burden is on me to be entertaining, and that makes me not want to socialize.

It's nice to just kick back with people who are interesting in their own right, not just because of what they've done, but because of how they think and perceive the world. And the best part is that we respect each other's gangsta. That is just so precious to me.

One of JL's friends, DE, dropped by, and he just completely changed the dynamic of the group, which was unfortunate.

EK asked him where he was from, and DE basically ran through his resume, emphasizing how much he'd traveled and how many cities he'd lived in. It was so fucking boring. DE ended up sitting next to me and basically interrogated me about my reading habits.

DE (out of the blue): Do you read?

This was just so random because we were all talking about poo at that point, which is a subject I find extremely fascinating.

Me: Er...Yeah, I do.
DE: What are you reading now?
Me: Uh...postcolonial stuff, I guess. Edward Said...Orhan Pamuk...
DE: Where are they from?
Me: Um...Edward Said is Palestinian, and Orhan Pamuk is Turkish.
DE: Do you believe that there can be democracy in the Middle East?
Me: Sigh.

The thing is, I'm happy to talk about shit like this. I met this boss chick, N, last week, and we spent hours laughing about social movements and postcolonial theory. She's so well-read, so much more literate and educated than I am, but she never made me feel stupid. She never tried to show off her knowledge, it just flowed naturally in the course of conversation, and if I didn't know the writer or reference she was making, I didn't feel uncomfortable asking her to explain. I really appreciate that.

With DE, it was like he was challenging me and trying to out-alpha me. He wasn't trying to have a conversation, it was like he was interrogating me and trying to impress me with how intelligent he is. He totally reminded me of Anonymous ABC's Asian American friend who is so desperate to prove that he's an intellectual that he had the nerve to say to my friends, upon meeting them for the first time, "Is there anyone here who can talk politics with me?" What the cheebye!

I guess it won't surprise anyone that DE is Asian American, too. Jesus fucking Christ, what is wrong with you people? Why can't you just fucking develop some social skills and enjoy a fucking conversation? Why measure dicks with a CHICK?? You already lost just by trying that.

Speaking of dicks, I've been trying to dress more like a boy lately -- yes, still struggling with gender identity issues. Today wasn't a really great example, but I'm sure you can just feel my macho from these pictures.

Baby, It's Time We Gave Something New a Try

Okay, this is the absolute last one for tonight.

I'll Feed You Light

Alright, my boredom threshold has been reached, and I'm sick of drawing. This one was done with a sepia-coloured marker.



I honestly have no idea why I can't draw pretty things. It's like I pick up a pen and the first thing I want to draw is blood dripping and rotting flesh.

The Stars We Will Navigate Through the Holes in Your Eyes

I bought a whole bunch of these vintage cigarette advertisement cards, and I'm having a lot of fun drawing on them. I'll upload as I go. I think I might move on to watercolour, though.

If We Cut Out the Bad, Well Then We'd Have Nothing Left

Eric: What's wrong with your voice?
Me: This is my new deep voice!
Eric: WOT?! Did your voice change after you got punched in the eye?
Me: Gasp! You can tell I have a black eye??
Eric: Uh...yeah. IT'S BLACK.
Me: No, it's not! I put concealer on it. It's more greyish.
Eric: Did you get into a fight?
Me: What?! How could you ask me that??
Eric: Uh...that's kind of a reasonable assumption.
Me: Tsk! I didn't get into a fight. I'm hurt you even asked me that.

I woke up with this black eye a couple of days ago. I have no clue what happened, seriously. Maybe my cat punched me in my sleep? I've been wearing a hat to hide it, but I thought it had cleared enough today to eschew the hat completely.

I need a nap, I've sorted out some of my deadlines and finished what could possibly be the most difficult fucking ring ever. Never again. That particular design is retired forever.

Was out with KL the other night and she introduced me to her friend's mom, Auntie A, who I really got along with. Auntie A is a hardcore businesswoman and she was telling me about her idea to open a Playgirl Club, where a chick would be given five male escorts, each one with a different-sized penis.

Me: Auntie! You have to make sure you colour-code them so that everyone knows which size they're representing!

Auntie A said that if the club ever got off the ground, she would offer me a job doing public relations and pimping.

Me: Oh! I know a lot of broke male models, too!

Wouldn't that be such a boss job? I'm already imagining my clothes, I'd have male cheongsams tailored, and I'd walk around with a carved sandalwood fan slapping escorts if they didn't toe the line or didn't make enough money. That would be my fantasy job, really.

Wandered into Page One today for a break and read a book on Chinese horoscopes. The chick who wrote it is a Tiger, too, and so obviously, there was a great deal of Tiger ball-licking involved. As a Libran Wood Tiger, I was described as a "Genteel Revolutionary."

An original if there ever was one, the Libra/Tiger is unforgettably winning. This person wants to impress and please you. You will warm to the Tigerish Libran charisma and want to know more - much more - about him. Attractive? My gawd. These people emit personal magnetism rays that dance all over their countenances. Libra/Tiger seems perpetually on the brink of bursting out laughing. It's adorable. It's fascinating. And it is mighty perilous for the heartstrings. Should you have the good fortune to find yourself entwined with this tawny beast in his musky lair, lie back and enjoy the fun. Libra/Tiger sex is seriously naughty. Mammoth imagination goes into every smooch and caress.

What the fuck?! "Musky lair?" That's fucking disgusting. My lair smells like Mizensir candles and cat poo and Johnson's Baby Cologne. I don't know about the naughty sex, but that could explain this mysterious black eye, as well, I guess?

And here's more:

Noble and fearless, you are respected for your courage and feared for your ferocity. Where are you going in such a hurry? Can't you take just one teensy peek before you pounce? Try to slow down. Practice some moderation.

You're a swashbuckling loner. You prefer to win or lose on your own terms. The top of the heap is really the only place you want to be. You court danger. The more dramatic and calamitous the situation, the broader grows your Tigrish grin. Beware! All that changeability, disdain for rules, self-sufficiency and devil-may-care jauntiness can be your undoing.

I have to say, though, some of the things she wrote was kind of spot-on, like how Tigers loathe middle-class people, that we get along with either poor or rich people, but never the ones in-between. Now that I found really interesting.

She also said that Tigers need to work on not being so moody and unpredictable. Well, how the fuck are you supposed to give people warnings when you don't know when you'll be pouncing on and biting them anyway? Tsk.