Saturday, November 12, 2005

picasa2

i have downloaded, installed, and enjoyed google’s picture management program: picasa2. it’s great! fast, smooth, easy, intuitive, and you can add names to the images. why is that a good feature? because it makes searching and sorting reall fast and easy.

for example, when i see a picture of james, hong, gene, and jon i simply put their names down. then whenever i look for a picture that has hong in it, i type his name in the search box. bam! i’m bombarded with portraits of the worst fisherman known to…. well man.

it’s great, but the labeling process is tedious since my photo collection is 10gb! (quick breakdown: 1 picture is ~600kb, 1024kb is 1 mb, 1024mb is a gb) that breaks down to 12,556 pictures and short video clips. i’ve got my work cut out for me.

one thing i noticed as i’m going through my many digital photos are the people in the photos. some of my photographed friends have very different expressions/looks/faces. and some people look the same, regardless. i’ve made a few examples-

efrain is very much case one:



james is very much case two:

Tuesday, November 8, 2005

sidekick on some entropy

i lost my sidekick a few months ago. i loved my sidekick, moreso than batman loved robin. and you know batman loved robin!

just a week ago, me and my sidekick were re-united! farewell to the fish phone!

with sidekick, i have found the path i so abruptly lost. it’s safe to say that i am back to my objective: conquering the world. how does one conquer the world with a mobile phone? easy! start a blog!

yes worthy blog reading enthusiasts, i have yet another blog in which i have given life. this blog is special. the blog is called sidekick on some entropy, and all posted to via my sidekick!!!

i can write and post pics straight from my phone. this means that anywhere i have tmobile’s gprs reception, i am blog ready! consider me a loaded gun. loaded blogger gun that is =)






LINK TO MY NEW SIDEKICK POSTED BLOG

Saturday, November 5, 2005

big lebowski

dude? dud!

when it comes to fashion, i’m a dude. i mean i’m a dud. is there a difference?

i’ve been a huge fan of the big lebowski since i saw it weeks ago, and if anyone knows what i’m talking about when i refer to his wardrobe for that movie, you’ll catch my ‘dude’ humor. (his alias is ‘the dude’.)

i was looking at clothes the other day. i was looking at my clothes. a person’s clothes represent the person inside. a person’s clothes tell you who and what the person inside them are. appearance plays a much larger role than we let on. i’ve been rejected by girls who would otherwise throw themselves at my feet begging for my attention and affection, simply because of my appearance. yea, i kid you not!

as i was looking at my clothes, i meandered the path each garment had traveled to wind up hung and wrinkled in my closet. how did they get there? who bought these? what do these clothes say to people who don’t wear them, the people that have to see them.

mother buys most of my clothes. yes, still. i looked at my shoes –mom. the shirt i had on my back –hand me down from my younger brother. pants, mom. socks, mom. boxers, xmas, mom.

my clothes aren’t me, they don’t say ‘i am this-type-of-person’ to the world. my clothes serve the sole function of covering me and keeping me warm. my clothes say ‘these are the clothes that my loved ones think i’ll most likely wear’ i am not making a personal statement, nor am i giving a clear image of my persona via wardrobe.

i judge people based solely on their clothes daily, yet act as though i should be granted immunity by the fashion gods. thou can’t judge me!

maybe, just maybe, i should look into spending more of my money on clothes, and less of my money on computers i don’t need. sure it’s great to have all your mp3’s and .avi’s in a pc that runs in your car on a 7” touch screen. but the right brand of jeans will do me wonders.


Wednesday, October 26, 2005

video and music

audio/video memories

i loved rap. my mom and dad hated the ‘glorification of ghettos’ that rap implanted into my young and impressionable head. why do you like to listen to people talking about bitch this, fuck that, shoot you in the face, fuck fuck fuck. it really was gold hearing my parents mimic cypress hill and nwa.

nobody over 23 years old knew who lords of the underground, blackmoon, pete rock, south central cartel, masta ace, or a tribe called quest were. these groups were huge, but huge within in a small demographic. at least they were in my local suburban high school world.

flash forward to today, they renamed rap to hip hop and made eminem and 50cent international superstars. i’ve been to technology seminars where 50 year old men in suits talk about downloading the latest 50cent songs off the net. wft? only 10 years prior i was being grounded for buying rap crap with parental advisory stickers for uncensored lyrics.

rap was what i liked, it was cool. hearing witty rhymes, the creative use of words, and of course the raw emotion that rappers conveyed drew me in. my friends liked rap too, but i don’t think they liked it as much as i did. i wanted my driver’s license solely for the fact that i could go to wherehouse music stores and dig through used cd sections

each rapper had his own style, each producer left a fingerprint on his beats, and each album has a nostalgic feel to it.

i liked rap so much, that i’d get home from school as soon as possible in order to catch rap city, on b.e.t. i’d tape the music videos on vhs tapes and share with my friends. if we only had broadband internet and p2p filesharing back when i was 14 years old, i would have been glued to my computer. ha, i currently am glued to my computer.

the music videos directly affected how i felt about the songs. some music videos were so fun, so magical, and so memorable that i would grow an affinity to the song. i’d play the song and remember the video in my head. i’d relive how cool i thought it was (example: dr. dre’s nothin’ but a g thang i wish i was in that video! bow wow wow yippie yo yippie yay.)

some songs were opposite. i’d like the song, watch the video, and start to dislike the song. i.e. wu tang clan’s m.e.t.h.o.d. man, they could have done so much better, and i’m not knocking the lowbudget. it was just a poor vid.

i’ve come to love videos with music. not just music videos, all video with music over it.

almost every movie has that scene in it. i call it the music scene. it’s the part of the movie where time goes really fast, things happen. it’s not just a song with a scene, its many quick scenes. daniel san learns karate, two people get to know eachother, the team starts playing many different games and starts winning. sometimes it’s just a slow motion walk from the club to the car like in swingers, etc. these scenes are what i live for. that and electronics =)

i have done some stabs at video editing and such, and plan to stab more and more. imagine that ‘reeeh reeeeh reeeh’ sound and the motion made famous by alfred hitchcock.

songs resurface the memories you have tied to them. if that song was used over an awesome bit of video, then that memory of the video will resurface when you hear the corresponding song. i recently watched a movie that i can’t stop talking about, survive style 5. it’s japanese, yet uses the cake song ‘i will survive’, in a musical scene. after watching the video with that song playing, i immediately felt a need to hear that song again. a song i didn’t really like, is now marked with five stars on my itunes playlist.

i look forward to making more of these video audio treats that i appreciate so much. i hope you are too.

Tuesday, October 25, 2005

aa

aa
(setting) alcoholics anonymous:

hi, my name is _____. and i’m an alcoholic.



is this backwards to only me? anonymous? the thoughts that come to me while cooking spam and eggs over rice!?

Sunday, October 2, 2005

"sitting, wishing, waiting"
- jack johnson

mom and dad never really pushed me to meet girls. a girlfriend wasn’t high on mom and dad’s priority list, in fact it didn’t make the list. focus for our hero was: grades, health, extra curricular activities, keeping promises, telling the truth, helping others, grades again, and all the other goodies that parents want their children to do while growing up. i’ve never heard my mom or dad say, “why don’t you have a girlfriend? when are you going to have a girlfriend? when are you planning on getting married? am i to expect grandchildren anytime soon?”

when i hear my friends talk about their parents asking these questions, i can’t relate.

on a few occasions when the subject has popped up, mom simply told me “it’ll just happen”.

i’ve blindly fallowed my mom’s advice. i sit at the bus stop. unsure if there is a bus to come pick me up.

let’s take a step to the side, and look back upon my ‘big things’ (job, friends, school, etc…). getting a job was no cake walk. finding a job is a full time job. school also didn’t just come to me, school required lots of work and sacrifice. friends require effort as well. it took work and elbow grease to establish the friendships i’ve built.

so why then, do i sit on my ass and let the woman of my dreams come wallowing into my arms? does this happen?

why are other parents pushing school, grades, a good job, and the fact that being married at 26years of age is rather common, even in california. more so, my posed question is, why aren’t my parents pushing the significant other panic button?

living organisms exist basically to procreate. passing the genes on, and keeping life going is the only thing left when you boil away life’s bs. and i’m suppose to just sit on my hands? cause it’ll just happen?

have i been going about life entirely backwards? has everyone been pushing for and pursuing that which i’ve just sat and waited for? i couldn’t have attained a degree by just letting it come to me, nor a job. how do i expect to find myself in a relationship?

the thing is, mom and dad have never steered me wrong. they have 75+ combined years more experience than i do on this planet.

i ask myself how did they meet? did they find each other while focusing on the other “important things”? did mom and dad experience a freak occurrence by meeting and falling in love by simply waiting for it to just happen? have they passed me down advice that only works for 1 in 1,000 people?

maybe she will read this post, feel the electricity tingle her spine, and fall into my arms with the ease and confidence that mom and dad have raised me with. if not, then i’ve got a lot of not-doing-anything to do.
fun at the park



Saturday, October 1, 2005

big sur

big sur weekend






(click the pic to watch the vid)

Monday, September 19, 2005

crossing the bridge

crossing the bridge


Saturday, September 17, 2005

dark and stormy: 1/2 dark rum, 1/2 ginger beer

I brainstorm all the time. Imagine hurricane Katrina times 40 billion going on inside this thick skull I carry around. The storm is usually so rough, with waves so big that most of my thought boats end up sinking before delivering their cargo. This is why I carry a pen almost everywhere I go with exception to the three s’s (showers, swimming, and sleep). Other than that, one or more writing utensils can be found in my possession at all times.

What kind of storms am I talking about? What goes on inside my head when I’m not puking out too many words to describe a simple idea? Reading my blog is a small documented timeline of some of my written brain hurricanes.

This past Wednesday, I walked into taco bell for lunch. I sat alone, and ate my ½ lb spicy chicken burrito supreme with both hot and mild sauce. The thought came to my mind in an instant, triggered by an event that I’ve since forgotten. I pulled out the pen, a pad of paper, and started writing. My sailboat had been adrift, when all of a sudden, a huge gust of wind caught my sails and started pulling me in a direction that I just went with.

I had the punch line in my sights, so I started backtracking up to it. I was simply jotting down short handed notes in the most legible handwriting possible. The idea was to start my dear reader with some background info, link those facts to other facts and then arrive to some tie-up conclusion. All the while I focused only on these introduction factoids.

Come time to lay down the punch line, drop anchor, tie up to the pier, take the sails down and call it a day, I forgot. My storm had sunk the ship of thought. I forgot the punch line. How did all of these ideas come together? I have no clue. Here’s what I have written on my piece of scratch paper:

“i have lots of friends from chinese school -> it all started back in high school.
Now I have lots of friends who went to school in Michigan. I may as well have…-> the Michigan folks are all buddies & dancers. So, I’m always watching dance ish & listening to hip hop. Which I don’t like all that much. So I’m watching this movie_”

That’s where it stops. And that’s where I stopped. Putting both types of hot sauce into my spicy chicken 1/2lb burrito supreme broke concentration enough for me to lose and never regain that moment’s thought.

Tragedy? Yes. It was to be a blog. I decided that this boat sunk so close to shore that I’d drag it onto the pages of high-entropy and display what could have been.