Name: M. Jie; Van Xuong
Heros: John Stuart Mill, Malcolm X, the 14th Dalai Lama, Leonardo Davinci, and Woodrow Wilson.
Politics: I believe in the state.
Religion: militant agnostic.
Primary Interests: politics, economics, history, philosophy, chess, jazz, hip hop, soul, funk, trees, street and modern art, publishing, technology, antiques, academia, camping, photography, cinematography, drums, drawing, teas, and dance.
About Me: the money stacker, bank shot shooter, occasional looter, Oaktown Trooper, last second clincher, grand prize winner, lotto taker, props earner, kill you with a super soaker, block stock broker, money collector, truth seeker, sunflower seed chewer, chess teacher, free samples reacher, human insult generator, devil's advocator, deep thinker, title stripper, paradigm flipper, test crusher, shelf duster, eBay hustler, ego buster, the drinking maté cause it's the quicker picker upper.



Politics and Economics Blogs

1115
Brad DeLong's blog
The Monkey Cage
Talking Points Memo
The Angry Economist
The Eminent Melanie Colburn
EconLog
Taking Hayak Seriously
Angry Bear
Watch Blog
Marginal Revolution
Crooked Timber
Chicago Boyz
Wonkette
Daily Kos
Daniel Drezner
Our Word is Our Weapon
Red State
Donkey Rising
Juan Cole
War and Piece
Political Theory Daily
Heavy Lifting
Argmax
Christopher Hitchens Web
The Fareed Zakaria Archive
The Official Paul Krugman Web Page
Cafe Hayak
Andrew Sullivan
Thomas Friedman at NY Times
Laylor Cyclopaedia on Political Economy

Media and Research Institutions

Uncommon Knowledge
Truthout
The Nation Magazine
Reason Magazine
Monthly Review
The National Review
The New Republic
Colors Magazine
A World Connected
American Enterprise Institute
The Brookings Institution
The Cato Institute
The Council on Foreign Relations
Center for International Policy
The Heritage Foundation
Progressive Policy Institute
National Bureau of Economic Research
RePEc's IDEAS

Music and Pop Culture Blogs

Cocaine Blunts and Hip Hop Tapes
The Broke B-Boys
Freemotion
We Eat So Many Shrimp
Soul Sides
Honey, Where Have You Been So Long?
Breath of Life
Office Naps
Destination Out
Moistworks
Captain's Crate
La Case de L'affreux Thom
Sound Roots
Soul Shower
The Of Mirror Eye
Aurgasm
Ear Fuzz
Home the Groove
Benn Loxo Du Taccu
Soul Crates
Fluxblog
The Smoking Section
Blind I for the Kids
Regnyouth
Black Music Lovers
El Diablo Tun Tun
Totally Fuzzy
Musica do Bem
Dust is Back
Mutant Sounds
Headfonehaus
ChrisGoesRocks
Loronix
Do Velho Ao Novo
Strictly Beats
When They Reminisce
Time 4 Sum Aksion
Different Waters
Um Que Tenha
All of MP3
Loading Vault
Orgy in Rhythm
Best of Both Worlds
A Different Kitchen
Poplicks
Hip Hop Music
Nick Catchdubs

Site Meter

Chasing.Red.Chasing.Red.Chasing.Red

7th November 2009

: "BEAT IT . . . OR NOT. I DON'T REALLY CARE"





Here is how you take a fight song and sing it with as much self-pity and little conviction as possible.

To indie rock listening friends - how can you stand this crap? There is absolutely no emotion in this song; it's just colorless, alienated, vacuous whimpering papered over with a thin and substanceless "I'm so cool" factor. Why have mopey suburban white teenagers dictated the cultural trend of the last decade? Someone, seriously, tell me.

White people need to make music like they used to, when they gave a shit.



18th October 2009

: CHANGE OF PLANS



Apparently I'm not spending next year with Anna anymore. It comes down to her feeling like she'll get too emotionally attached and then it will be difficult to move to Russia at the end of the year. We both think spending next year together will feel like a very serious relationship; it's just that I think that's fantastic and she thinks that's terrible. I suppose it's easy for me to take my view since I'm not the one who has to step on that plane.

I was really disappointed at first, and I'm now not really sure how I feel about it. I think I would only be upset if we ended up not keeping in touch. Short of that, I feel about this the same way I felt about her moving to Russia - it's not what I wanted, but it's hard to be really down about it when it's constantly overshadowed by whatever relationship I have with her, friendship or otherwise. Six months ago, I was happy to receive an email from her once a month, and now I'm talking to her for five hours a day. It's hard to stay unhappy when you're keeping in touch with the girl you're in love with. Plus, although our conversations about next year have been really, really difficult, some humor at the end always makes things feel familiar and comfortable again.

Still, I'm going to try to convince her that we should spend the year together. When I'm 80 years old, in an old home still grumbling about liberalism* and modernity, I want the warm memories of the year I spent with her to look back on. I just need to find a way to convince her to take this plunge with me and not think about the future.

* In the broad philosophical sense, not the political American sense.

15th October 2009

: TALKING SHOPS OF THE BOURGEOISE



I just received this email from a friend of mine (identifying information removed)
The email )
What a fantastic idea. It would be great if salons made a comeback (though to avoid pretension, maybe the word salon shouldn't be used). As a grad student, I'm less jazzed about leaving my 12 hours of reading only to go hang out with more people so that we can read, but the other ones should like they could be fun. I've proposed leading sections on political economy, development, and political philosophy.

14th October 2009

: GOTTA SEE ABOUT A GIRL



Anna and I have started comparing calendars and planning which days next year we can spend together. As it stands, she's going to finish up law school in New York, and take the bar exam; I'm going to finish my last year before advancing to candidacy, and write my dissertation prospectus. However, we'll have all of January together, each of our Spring Breaks, and all of summer before she moves to Moscow for good and sets up her new life.

It feels a bit strange to do this. We've kind of planned out the beginning and end of our relationship. We've marked it on a calendar - on this day, our relationship is going to end. What a strange thing to do; it's something I can't imagine doing in any other situation - "on this day, we'll no longer be friends," "on this day, we'll no longer be married," etc. It feels like you're scheduling in failure, tragedy, or sadness. I'll know, when she comes and falls asleep in my bed, no matter how it feels, it's just a visitation.

At the same time, I'll get to listen to her when we eat lunch, I'll get to hold her hand when we walk down the street, and I'll get to slow dance with her in my apartment.

Which I'm still blown away by. In my first two years of knowing her, I used any excuse I could to spend time with her. I thought maybe if I could get in a conversation here and there, I could get to know her better. I invited her out to study at libraries and cafes, which she sometimes agreed to, but to my dismay was too studious and on-task to ever really chat with me (I saw a lot of the top of her head, as she looked down on her lap to read). I invited her to attend talks on campus with me, which she once accepted (it was too see Robert McNamara). Afterwards, unfortunately, we talked more about international relations than we did about her, despite my best efforts. I even offered to help her out with her chores at our student co-op house. We once cooked dinner for forty people together, and though she was pleasant and grateful for my help, she was still fairly laconic (she's since explained that it was because she was too busy trying to make falafels and hummus at the same time). Still yet, I suppose I got in enough time that she decided to stay friends with me after she graduated. Over the next three years, she would visit once every so often and we'd go to a museum or get tea. When she was abroad, we'd exchange emails. Hers were very casual and quickly composed; mine were very thought out and took a great deal of time to write. They had to have just the right amount of humor, wit, and erudition, but yet seem casual. They were proofread over and over again before being sent off. The prose was always pruned and refined, but at the same time, not so refined that I would sound too stiff. And each email I got back from her always made my day; I'd learn a little more about a girl I was so charmed by and wanted so much to get to know better.

So though I think it's strange that I'm getting into a relationship with an explicit expiration date, I'm happier than a rainbow made of pie that I'll finally get to spend real time with her. January couldn't come sooner.

It reminds me of a poem by Robert Burns.
Anna, Thy Charms
by Robert Burns

Anna, thy charms my bosom fire,
And waste my soul with care;
But ah! how bootless to admire,
When fated to despair!

Yet in thy presence, lovely Fair,
To hope may be forgiven;
For sure 'twere impious to despair
So much in sight of heaven.

10th October 2009

: THE EVOLUTIONARY DEGENERATION OF THE INTERNET

I remember a time when the internet was the newest hope for polity, markets, and even general human development. For polity, the internet was going to be a new town square, where ideas would be exchanged, new forms of civil society would emerge, and Tocquevillian democracy would be exhumed. Advanced democratic regimes would be made more accountable through the transparency that the internet would provide, and authoritarian regimes would be under the constant threat of citizens organizing for democracy through the internet. For markets, the internet was going to make commerce easier, be a boon for new services innovation and productivity growth, and reshape capitalism. A UC Berkeley professor even published an article in Foreign Affairs asking if the internet meant "the end of the business cycle." For human development, the internet would drive information, on any subject, to a zero marginal cost, thus greatly empowering people, especially once the hardware also became cheap. Thomas Jefferson's anticipation for human progress, where every man would be an "Aristotle in mind," could finally be more than just a ridiculous liberal teleological view.

Unfortunately, nearly 15 years after the start of the internet craze, instead of those developments, the web has degenerated into a banal Saturnalian fest of idiotic narcissism.

Though not all of it is bad. I still visit blogs, both to read about subjects I enjoy and keep up with certain friends' lives. I also appreciate that Facebook allows me to stay in touch with friends who have moved far away; a very useful thing to have when globalization threatens to dissolve so many of our friendships.

However, the past five to seven years seem to have been on a particular downward trend. I remember when Facebook was about friends posting pictures of trips they've taken, or family moments they've had. For a moment, I even got to play Scrabble with friends 300 miles away. Now, instead of such things, the information I get on Facebook is about how someone is "having a busy Thursday," "eating a burrito," or "headed out with the dog." None of these things were worthwhile to mention before, when you were hanging out with your friends in the real world, and for good reason - because it's boring as shit.

I also really don't care about how you just found a pink, lonely cow on your farm; I don't want to join your imaginary mafia; and I don't need to know which decade best represents you. None of these things is allowing me to get to know you better, or us to even converse.

And it's getting worse. Much, much worse. Now Twitter threatens to put the banal chatter on overdrive. Via their 140-character limit, the entire site is designed to force you to only post the most superficial things. People tweet every single location they're at and every single thing they're eating, or post nonsensical one-liners that are carefully, and consciously, designed to make them seem quirky and whimsical.

Exactly what were these people expecting me to respond with when they posted these things?

There are four distinct problems at hand. First, this overload on information takes time away from actual social activities we could all be doing. And it's not just about my digital information consumption; it's about me and everyone around me. Everyone claims they're too busy for anything when you know they've wasted half the day updating their social networking sites with inane or banal information. We can't do more traditional social activities together because we've paid the opportunity cost that comes with reading and posting stupid shit on the internet.

Second, this reduced face-to-face social time, I'm convinced, is going to erode people's basic social skills. People are becoming less socially adept; they can't pick up on basic social cues, read body language, or be good conversationalists. To make matters worse, awkward is somehow the new charming (a phenomenon celebrated by hipster movies).

Third, narcissism is on the rise. The internet seems to be more and more about self-promotion, self-aggrandizement, and self-absorption. We've completely lost touch with what's a reasonably engaging topic. Any half-baked, banal thought that pops into our heads, there are a thousand mediums to broadcast it to the world, and we're thrilled that a thousand people pretend to listen. It's as though we've created an environment where everybody can have the experience of being an only child with overly attentive parents, or being both a celebrity and their own paparazzi at the same time.

Fourth, it's making us dumber. Not only is none of this giving us fodder for conversation - either in real life or online - but it's dulling our ability to create interesting ideas and perspectives. We went from blogging, which has no character limit and gave us a great forum for creating conversations, to Tumblr, which just allows people to post pictures and quotes (though Tumblr is still much better than Twitter, which won't even allow you to post nice pictures). People can't even read more than a page anymore on the internet without moving on. What happened to the pleasure of "getting lost in a text" or feeling shame for "having nothing interesting to say?" People used to enjoy reading, learning new things, and contributing to interesting conversations. Now, instead of creating everyday Aristotles, we've created everyday Paris Hiltons with ADHD.

None of this should be taken as though I don't enjoy reading friends' blog entries on their own personal lives. I enjoy writing to my friends and reading about what's going on with them. I'm only begrudge the things that are posted that would never be discussed in another medium. For example, blogs are an effective way for me to hold conversations with friends in other regions in the way I would hold them if they were in my kitchen. Unfortunately, fewer and fewer people are creating conversations online - either on topics regarding themselves or the external world. The internet has moved from Livejournal to Tumblr to Twitter, and now we're seeing a Twitterization of Livejournal. It's the death of conversation that I regret.

I'm not sure what the remedy is. As of late, I've used the "hide" button on Facebook to stop getting certain friend's updates without them being offended. What I really want, however, is a button that revives more traditional social activities, and brings back conversation. The internet didn't revive democracy, it hasn't brought down authoritarian regimes, it hasn't ended the business cycle, and it hasn't made us everyday Aristotles. But can't we at least use it to have good conversations?

1st October 2009

: MYSPACE/ YOURSPACE



One of my roommates is moving out to live with her boyfriend, so there is an open spot in my apartment. To friends on here who know me in real life, if you hear of anyone looking for a place, please feel free to pass this Craigslist ad along. It would be nice if we could find someone who came with a referral.

26th September 2009

: THE LAST TRUCK: THE CLOSING OF A GM PLANT

When General Motors announced the closing of their Moraine, Ohio assembly plant last year, two Dayton area filmmakers set to work on documenting the impact of GM’s decision on the factory workers and local community. The resulting film, "The Last Truck: Closing of a GM Plant," is a really moving look at a group of hard-working American auto workers. The film has no narration; it's (almost) entirely composed of workers just talking into the camera while they're at home, work, and the local bar. Based on the few experiences I've had with Midwestern, blue collar workers, I appreciated how well the documentary portrayed the good character of a class of Americans I've found to be so uniformly decent.

From a New York Times review of the documentary:

The film is relatively free of clichés about hard-working, homespun middle-American life, but these are recognizably upper Midwesterners. Time after time workers who choke up while talking to the camera politely apologize for their displays of emotion. (Imagine if that happened in reality television.) A white-haired woman drives away after her final shift, having “shot my last truck.” How did that go? she’s asked. She thinks for a second. “It’s different.”

The closing of the Moraine plant meant the direct loss of more than 1,000 jobs and, by one estimate given in the film, up to 10,000 jobs in the community as a whole. Globalization and the destruction of American industrial life are inevitably the film’s themes, but as the final day approaches, what people most want to talk about is pride in their workplace — the three-quarter-mile-long building still inspires awe in those who have worked there for decades — and the loss of the family they have found on the factory floor.
May we rebuild a progressive movement that cares the working class again.




The rest of the documentary can be found here )

21st September 2009

: UNFADABLE

18th September 2009

: REAL MEN DON'T WEAR SKINNY JEANS



"I was in Hitler's mansion a few days before the war was over. I went into the most extravagant bedroom and took this key out of the lock. If it was from HItler's actual bedroom, I will never know . . . but the key was from his home"
- Navy Bob Smallwood"



Click here for more images )


Thomas Sanders is a photographer who is going around the country and documenting the last great generation of Americans while they're in their last years. I originally read about this project on A Time to Get, which has a post about Sanders' project. To see more of these fantastic portraits, check out Thomas Sanders website. The two photo albums on this project include stories from some of the men.

One man talks about how he got hit in the gut and legs with an explosive mine, and ended up completing his company's mission while holding his guts in his canteen. Later, when he was getting medical aid, a doctor told him to skip to the front of the line, ahead of several other men. He refused.

Unfortunately, he's probably now spending his last days at a senior home while his grandsons are reading existentialist, postmodern novels and whining about their white collar jobs, instead of spending time with him.

5th September 2009

: NOTE TAKING

I recently ripped some vinyl into mp3s, and below is a selection of some of the albums I converted. Since these are old records and I'm too lazy to digitally clean up each song, you'll hear a crackling on each track, but perhaps a few of you will think that's charming.

The password, as always, is Chasing.Red. - two words, two capitals, two periods. Enjoy, and drop me a note with your reactions, if you can.



Song: Empty Bed Blues Part 1 by Bessie Smith
Album: The Bessie Smith Story Vol. 4 by Bessie Smith





Song: Speak Low by Bobby Montez
Song: African Fantasy [Mambo] by Bobby Montez
Album: Jungle Fantastique by Bobby Montez





Song: Ramblin' Man by Hank Williams
Album: 14 More of Hank Williams' Greatest Hits Vol. 2 by Hank Williams





Song: Constantinople by The Klezmorim
Album: Metropolis by The Klezmorim





Song: House on Elm Street by Harold Johnson Sextet
Album: House On Elm Street by Harold Johnson Sextet





Song: New Bell by Manu Dibango
Album: Soul Makossa by Manu Dibango





Song: No Matter How You Pray by Mahalia Jackson
Album: No Matter How You Pray by Mahalia Jackson

[ YOU'RE VIEWIN' | my most recent entries ]
[ KEEP IT MOVIN'| back that blog up ]