Friday, December 12, 2008

the chinese never die in spain

In the obituary section of the newspaper in Spain, you never see a Chinese face. Neither would you come across a Chinese grave nor chance upon an old Chinese man or woman on the street. So the urban legend goes. The Chinese never die in Spain and if they do, no one knows where they go. For this reason, some people avoid Chinese restaurants. Having watched wu xia movies where innkeepers murder their guests and turn them into delicious meat buns for other guests to eat, I don't blame the Spaniards. A less gory but equally interesting explanation I've read is that in a country where the Chinese triad network supposedly spreads far and wide, they keep reusing the identities over and over again whenever someone decides to go home. After all, all Chinese people look alike. Interestingly, Spain is the second country in the world, behind the US, for adopting children from China.


Alimentacion from andrew lim on Vimeo.

Saturday, December 06, 2008

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

foie gras

Monday, November 24, 2008

sun in your eye ii

el escorial

Friday, November 21, 2008

sun in your eye

walking away, Aranjuez

the burning forest, El Escorial


down the river stream, Valencia


Friday, October 24, 2008

no se

From the pages of El Mandarín, Madrid's Chinese newspaper in Spanish

damn right!

I saw this in a neighborhood of predominantly immigrants.

Sunday, October 19, 2008

food...nom..nom...nom


Breakfast


Lunch

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

got steak?

Beauty in a flurry of capes, blood and near misses. The drawing of first blood from a spear thrust by a man on top of an armored horse made me shift uncomfortably in my seat. A dark stream appeared on the black hide of the majestic beast, running down its side. And then the matador came on scene with sword and cape and commenced the age old dance between man and beast. The matador arching his back, mocking the beast, taunting it and yet seemingly in complete control. With each pass of the cape, man and beast grew closer and closer till they moved as one. The crowd cheered, I cheered. The juxtaposition of sheer unbridled bestial strength and a man in shiney clothing culminated in the final pass with the matador's body grazing the side of the beast and in a graceful twist, he rests his sword flat side up on the bull's head. All was still, man and his tool had once again tamed the beast.
The matador withdrew while the ring still echoed with cheers, exchanging his sword for the one that will bring death. After a few passes, he stops and raises his sword to his face, staring straight at the bull head-on. Taunting it for the final time, he surges forward and plunges his sword into the beast's back. Caught up in a flurry of capes that suddenly enter the ring, the bull flails around in a trance-like state, the spears bouncing on its side and the hilt of the sword visible in its hide. It soon gives up the fight and collapses to its knees, defeated. A dagger appears and is plunged into the back of its head, uno, dos, tres and then it dies as it was supposed to. A white handkerchief appears in the crowd, then two and then the whole crowd is a sea of waving white cloth.

Sunday, September 28, 2008

pamplona fireworks sin toros


the ribbons of lights disappeared, and there was darkness, but the people, young and old, hand-in-hand, oh how they danced, danced, danced....(now I know what the fireworks mode in my camera is for)


Thursday, September 18, 2008

the problem of morality


I actually listened to this twice, which is a first. Interesting stuff about the moral basis of politics and religion. Would make for great discussion.

Sunday, September 14, 2008

Sudestada

Jess and I went to an Asian restaurant serving S.E.A food today that left me sweating with tears in my eyes and a dribble coming out my nose. This is probably the closest I'll get to home over here and the most I'll ever pay for a bowl of laksa in my life. Oddly enough, it's opened by Argentinians, but the food is pretty solid and picante.


Looks like some modern version of an old coffeeshop.



We shared the curry of the day which was rendang and a laksa dish which came with cockles and a small crab.

Saturday, September 13, 2008

Vamos a el metro



If it were only that awesome.



I'm not sure if this is a little politically incorrect.

Wednesday, September 03, 2008

In transition

Transition journeys on trains, buses, boats or foot are rather underrated I must say. While staring out of the window and wishing you were at your destination 5 hours ago is rather miserable most of the time, the long bumpy rides has potential value in itself. Flying, I think is just cheating, or perhaps, devalues the transition journey by being confined into a sterile box in the air - but of course if you're pressed for time, lack the youthful vigor to take the bumpy ride or simply aren't traveling for traveling's sake, you're excused. There's more to see on the ground, more to smell, more to feel, the heat, the cold, the discomfort, the gentle rock of the train or the dust storms stirred up by the whizzing bus. It is not really about comfort or convenience but about experiencing as much as possible. Cushy experiences don't bear much fruit. You will always remember the bumpy rides but not the comfortable ones.

Of course this whole thing could just be a Nietzsche-ish slave morality affair since I always look for the cheapest routes which are usually bumpy and uncomfortable. Indeed, too cheap to fly. That being said, I do hope to do the Camino Francés in my lifetime but not because I can't afford the flight.

Friday, August 01, 2008

Tan Hong Ming



This is some deep stuff going on here.

Thursday, July 31, 2008

Solo la penumbra me acompaña hoy

Solo travel is lonely for most parts. I am confined to single-serve dishes because I can only eat so much and I have no one to drink the cheap beer with in the evenings. There are no idle or meaningful conversations to while away the time, no one to make a better decision for me and no one to have a moment with. Travel is not solely about experiencing new environments and cultures but it is also about that shared experience, which adds much meaning to the travel itself. This was absent for me in Cambodia aside from the conversation I had on the roof of the boat from Battambang to Siem Reap. Perhaps Joseph Conrad put the whole mood most aptly in the account of his experience in the Congo in 1890:

"A great melancholy descended on me. Yes, this was the very spot. But there was no shadowy friend to stand by my side in the night of the enormous wilderness, no great haunting memory...I wondered what I was doing there, for indeed it was only an unforeseen episode...Still the fact remains that I have smoked a pipe of peace at midnight in the very heart of the African continent, and felt very lonely there."

I did ask myself that all important question, "what the hell am I doing here?", a couple of times when I was lying in bed unable to sleep in the windowless guesthouse room where the fan only blew stale hot air that smelled of cigarette smoke and when I was showering in a cramped toilet whilst trying not to get my clothes wet. And then I chanted to myself that old mantra: it builds character, it builds character, it builds character, it builds...

The language barrier also often isolates and paralyzes one in an alien culture, there was just me, in my head, talking to myself. I actually felt more comfortable roaming about in Ecuador, where I could read the signs and talk to the locals, than in Cambodia, where it was pretty much looking for English menus and for locals who could speak English or Chinese. And then there was the thinking. Too much idle thinking. Thinking over a beer, thinking as I sat on the top of an ancient temple trying to kill time, thinking on the bus and thinking as I lay in bed too early to sleep. You know what they say about an idle mind.

"We live, as we dream, alone," writes Conrad in Heart of Darkness. I once subscribed to this whole notion, now I'd like to think otherwise.


And yes, photos with nobody in them.

Monday, July 14, 2008

famous last glimpses

fusion confusion

generous summerfields donations

everything I've forgotten
can't remember much of this day either

Saturday, July 12, 2008

cruel to be kind

"I might, indeed, have learned, even from the poets that Love is something more stern and splendid than mere kindness: that even the love between the sexes is, as in Dante, 'a lord of terrible aspect'. There is kindness in Love: but Love and kindness are not coterminous, and when kindness is separated from the other elements of Loves, it involves a certain fundamental indifference to its object, and even something like contempt of it....Kindness merely as such, cares not whether its object becomes good or bad, provided that it escapes suffering...It is for people whom we care nothing about that we demand happiness on any terms: with our friends, our lovers, our children, we are exacting and would rather see them suffer much than be happy in contemptible and estranging modes. If God is Love, He is, by definition, something more than mere kindness."

"Love, in its own nature, demands the perfecting of the beloved; that the mere 'kindness' which tolerates anything except suffering in its object is, in that respect, at the opposite pole from Love. When we fall in love with a woman, do we cease to care whether she is clean or dirty, fair or foul? Do we not rather then first begin to care?...Love may, indeed, love the beloved when her beauty is lost: but not because it is lost. Love may forgive all infirmities and loves still in spite of them: but Love cannot cease to will their removal. Love is more sensitive to hatred itself to every blemish in the beloved...Of all powers he forgives most, but he condones least: he is pleased with little, but demands all."


C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain, p33; 38

I still haven't got my head around this one yet.

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Mi casa

Sunday, April 27, 2008

birthday presents

Wednesday, April 09, 2008

Friday, March 28, 2008

ceviche


something I picked up in Ecuador:

Thin slices of red onion
Lemon or lime juice
Salt and Pepper
Diced tomatoes
Halved shrimp

Yum!

Saturday, March 15, 2008

25 Dec 07

Quito, Ecuador

The coffee was bitter and damn it was good coffee. At the other table a family had just sat down for lunch, probably after church, and they chatted. Soft Spanish mariachi music emanated from the whitewashed walls and curved ceiling. The view of the bright plaza through the doorway contrasted with the cool and darker interior of the cafe nestled beneath the facade of the cathedral. I took another sip of coffee. Streams of water flowed from the fountain outside the doorway. A light breeze flowed in. It was a perfect moment, the perfect place to be. I had just finished a plate of seco de chivo con arroz - life was good. As we left El Buen Sanduche, the shopkeeper warned us about the ladrons on Calle Chile.

Plaza Grande is bustling today. Families, tourist, immaculately dressed old men and couples sit on the benches. Kissing, chatting, watching other people go by. It's Christmas day and it's lovely.

I'm begining to like the Old Town, it really is very beautiful with its colonial buildings, the small lanes, the long streets which end with a beautiful vista of hills dotted with homes, the plazas and the squares, the churches, the smell of incense where the old women peddle religious wares, the traditionally dressed women in their hats and scarves selling mangoes with a baby in tow, the ubiquitous shoe-shines, the MP5 touting uniform-clad guard outside the presidential palace who tried to direct me to a cafe, the ice-cream vendors who freeze the creamy bit of an ice-cream over dry-ice, the numerous policemen who patrol the street making me wonder whether I should be feeling safe or afraid, the security guard at the pharmacy who carries a shotgun, the blind old couple busking with a song, the legless man playing an Inca tune on guitar and panflute advertising his own CD for sale, the fact that businesses here don't have English translations. The Old Town is all that and more.

Monday, February 25, 2008

winter down south

Illegal phone taps
Quito

Puerto Lopez

Manta

Sunday, February 10, 2008

so hungry...

Saturday, January 26, 2008

The Essay that Made My College Professor Cry

I came across this essay when I was writing my social theory paper. It's written in a rather interesting manner and of course there's my name's sake.

5 April 2003

Dear Andrew,

For my final piece of writing, I have decided, in the tradition of Virginia Woolf, to stray from the monotony of the standard collegiate essay and employ the epistolary style, for I feel that the form of the letter better serves to create continuity, or familiarity, between reader and writer. Thus, to invoke the wisdom of my aforesaid predecessor, if “without someone warm and breathing on the other side of the page, letters are worthless” (Three Guineas 3), then in a discussion on the value, or lack thereof, of moralistic theories in our contemporary civilization, it seems to me that in order to avoid having my time spent here rendered worthless, I have no choice but to write in that style, albeit often unpleasant and haphazard, which is most conducive to the establishment of such familiarity.

Of the many diverse considerations on morality studied this past year, I have chosen the two that I found most compelling – Kant’s Grounding for the Metaphysics of Morals and Nietzsche’s On the Genealogy of Morals – to consider, compare, and contrast in some depth. Upon the first reading of these texts, I was overcome by a feeling of déjà vu. It seemed to me that like the diametric opposition discovered between the arguments of Descartes and Hobbes regarding the justification for belief in the Christian God, the equally insightful ideas of Kant and Nietzsche would also end up diametrically opposed, and the attribution of value to either would entail a full denial of value in the other. Yet, upon a rereading of the texts and by looking beyond the particularities of the arguments for commonalties between them, I have, to my utmost delight, come to the conclusion that the goals of both and the imminent problems of which both were crafted to address do in fact have much in common, both becoming valuable in their own right, and in relation to one another.

Therefore, to provide some structure to my ramblings, I will explain first the arguments of Kant and Nietzsche and why within them I saw a new rendition of the aforementioned Descartes-Hobbes conflict, then how this new rendition deteriorated in light of the philosophers’ mutually reinforcing end goals, and ultimately, how I believe their ideas on ‘morality’ come together and teach us lessons of the greatest value.

Just as Rene Descartes attempted to necessarily prove the existence of God through reason – and therefore, validate the universal authority of Christian morality – Kant employed an entirely a priori argument for ‘grounding’ morality in reason, derived the idea of a categorical imperative, and once again defined morality in terms of universal laws. Kant’s categorical imperative can be formulated as such: Always act in such a way that you can also will that the maxim of your action should become a universal law. To unravel this last sentence, take, for instance, the act of lying.

For lying to become moral for one person at one time, the categorical imperative would logically entail that lying also become moral for every person at all times. Of course, no one would ever will the universal employment of lies, for then, as lying would become expected, his individual lie would no longer assist him in getting what he wants. Thus, in all circumstances, the act of lying is immoral. The categorical imperative (unlike the hypothetical) makes action an end in itself; in other words, action must no longer have ulterior motives if it is to be moral. By dismissing the empirical world and the utility of actions from the discussion of morality, Kant asserts that each man becomes alike through his ability to reason, abides by the moral laws he simultaneously coauthors, and ultimately becomes an end in himself. Thus, like Descartes, Kant maintains that through reason, moral laws are universally discovered.

However, Nietzsche criticizes the universality of these aforementioned moral theories. He does not accept the notion that morality is ‘grounded’ in reason; instead, like Hobbes, he maintains that all concepts, including the concept of morality, are based in the human construction of language. As languages and meanings of words vary in accordance with their varied creators, ‘morality’ – a construct of language - can only be known in a relative sense. For instance, originally the word ‘good’ means different things for different people. “The noble, powerful, high-stationed, and high-minded” people of society label themselves and their actions as good, whereas “all low, low-minded, common and plebian” (Nietzsche 26) people become associated with the word ‘bad.’ In contrast, motivated by their resentment of the strong (men who are good in themselves), society’s weak unify, collectively associate the naturally strong with the word ‘evil,’ and base their morality (which Nietzsche calls slave morality) on a hostile external world, where the concepts of ‘goodness’ and ‘morality’ become synonymous with all that is “unegoistic”- pity, self-abnegation, self-sacrifice, etc.

Slave morality becomes predominant, and the moral laws and ideas that we now unquestionably accept and argue that reason logically entails (i.e. Kant) are based in cruelty, as shown by Nietzsche’s historical examination of morals. Nietzsche says, “Not even good old Kant: the categorical imperative smells of cruelty” (65). Just as Hobbes criticized Descartes’ inability to remove the Christian definition of God in his rational explication of the ‘cause’ of ideas greater than one’s self, Nietzsche maintains that Kant’s universal moral laws are not derived from pure reason, but from a slave morality deeply ingrained in his experience and the society in which he resides.

Thus, I felt that in light of Nietzsche’s criticisms, I would have to reconsider the value I attributed to Kant’s categorical imperative, just as Hobbes made me reconsider and ultimately reject the value I attributed to Descartes’ scientific proof for the existence of God. I felt that perhaps I was destined to forever remain “only a cripple in a cave” (Three Guineas72). However, beyond their argumentative differences, I have come to feel that both Kant and Nietzsche are promoting the same end. Both are attempting to reconnect the concept of ‘morality’ with the means by which this word came into existence: Humanity.

In Kant, for instance, the idea that I feel comes to the forefront of his argument, in stark contrast to that of Descartes, is the idea of autonomy. No longer is ‘God’ the ultimate legislator regulating action and demanding obedience and uniformity. Man himself becomes the ultimate legislator, only required to abide by the moral laws that he himself has authored. Kant makes man refocus on himself, and argues that any action that dehumanizes him, or no longer recognizes him as the ultimate end, is entirely removed from morality.

In the same way, Nietzsche contends that the moral theories of his time, especially as manifested in organized religion, have moved man in the wrong direction – away from himself. In the first sentence of his preface, Nietzsche writes, “We are unknown to ourselves, we men of knowledge – and with good reason. We have never sought ourselves – how could it happen that we should ever find ourselves” (15)? I believe that like Kant’s Grounding for the Metaphysics of Morals, or even like Freud’sCivilization and its Discontents, Nietzsche’s On the Genealogy of Morals is a means by which we as men can rediscover ourselves after many years under the dominion of authoritative moral theories, where man has been deemed subordinate to what I believe is nothing more than a construct of his own imagination: The concept of God. Nietzsche argues that moral systems based on a slave morality – i.e. Judaism and Christianity – have made man say “No to life and to himself” (19). Regarding this rejection by man of life and of himself, Nietzsche says,

“It was precisely here that I saw the greatest danger to mankind, its sublimest enticement and seduction – but to what? to nothingness? – it was precisely here that I saw the beginning of the end, the dead stop, a retrospective weariness, the will turning against life, the tender and sorrowful signs of the ultimate illness…” (19).

For both Kant and Nietzsche, mankind needs to once again embrace itself, treat itself as the ultimate end, and no longer view itself as a means to another, greater end, one that has consistently been so improvable that to maintain belief and ensure ‘salvation,’ even the most brilliant of men have had to forego their own reason and become reliant upon blind faith. Kant expresses the dichotomy between his formulation of morality and that of organized religion best when he says, comparing religious morality to his own and elaborating upon the danger inherent in removing an active reason from the discussion:

“Nevertheless it is better than the theological concept, whereby morality is derived from a divine and most perfect will. It is better not merely because we cannot intuit divine perfection but can only derive it from our own concepts, among which morality is foremost; but also because if it is not so derived (…), then the only remaining concept of God’s will is drawn from such characteristics as desire for glory and dominion combined with such frightful representations as those of might and vengeance” (47).

The dehumanization of mankind, in the name of morality, is precisely the aforementioned imminent problem that the arguments of both Kant and Nietzsche so passionately strive to address, thus bringing there previously ‘diametrically opposed’ ideologies into an intimate union. Their theories become unified in their similar rejection of religion in an attempt to rediscover man, as nicely expressed by the words of Nietzsche: “Atheism and a second innocence belong together” (91).

Thus, I have come to agree with both Kant and Nietzsche. I feel that when people are denied their humanity for a ‘greater end,’ they inevitably meet a lesser one. When we view war in terms of its ends and not its means, and forget the pictures of “the same dead bodies, the same ruined houses,” and that “war is an abomination; a barbarity” (Woolf 11), then in the name of morality, albeit a pseudo-morality, we become the immoral beasts that we so adamantly proclaim to be fighting against. We speak of the liberation of a people upon whom we drop our bombs and forget afterwards. And in the end, by overtly disrespecting the humanity of these men and others, we begin to lose our own, becoming strangers to ourselves – the ultimate illness of mankind and detriment to its future.

Therefore, Andrew, as my letter to you comes to a close, I want to reiterate why I felt that it was only appropriate that your question be addressed in this manner. I feel that all too often humanity is lost in the midst of abstraction and objectivity. Therefore, I have attempted to establish a feeling of intimacy between us, attempted to remind you that behind these words lies a man, or a person in the process of becoming one, who wants to become known to himself. This class has awakened me, exposed me to the absurdities predominant in our contemporary civilization, and I hope placed me on a nobler and more fulfilling path. In the end, I don’t care about my grade, my ‘Columbia’ degree, or my future salary, but I care about this moment, like the two moments that preceded it, as I finished my readings of both Kant and Nietzsche, when I felt that finally, I was starting to see this world with some clarity. I’ll end this letter as I began it, invoking the words of Virginia Woolf (slightly rephrased), and by doing so, call it a night and a semester:

“Now since you are pressed for time, let me make an end; apologising three times over to you, first for the length of this letter, second for the smallness of the contribution, and thirdly for writing at all. The blame for that however rests upon you, for this letter would never have been written had you not asked for an answer to your question” (Three Guineas 144).

With the utmost sincerity,

Ben Supple

http://www.thisisby.us/index.php/content/the_essay_that_made_my_college_professor_cry