Eight year old Lions who got kicked in the stomach

Tonight I got a gut wrenching euphoria. I got clarity with the force of a punch in the stomach, but it's still clarity. And like my uncle once told me when I fell off my bike - Crying is not going to help that scratch on your knee - and so we move on being more careful of that hole in the driveway, a little less of a wreckless eight-year old rebel on a huffy. Not that I wanted anything or asked for anything. Maybe I wished for something. Next week, I'll realize it's for the best, for the better, but right now, I kinda feel like that wreckless eight year old who fell off his bike.

Just be kind. Be more then an image. Go beyond. Do a cart wheel in a wide open space. Make farting noises. Drink a little too much. Say too much and don't apologize. Dance like no one is watching. Have an imagination.

I saw a biography on Reagan this past weekend which I think sums up a lot of who I am (disclaimer: I am no political Reagan). He was being described by a Russian reporter  - A lion who lazily lies in the grass. He sees a gazell 100 yards away, opens his eyes and goes back to sleep. When the lion wakes up again, the gazell is 50 yards away. The lion goes back to sleep. Once again he wakes up to find the gazell 15 yards away, and the lion in all his glory gets up and roars the roar of a king and the gazell is no long in existence.

Anyway - this week is not starting off well. One more law school application to submit tomorrow!

Hips and Heels

She walks to a good Santana song,
all hips and heels.
Brown hair over Mabeline eyes.
Cracks a smile and red lip gloss.

Warm Beer and Cold Woman - Tom Waits

Got to love this guy

warm beer and cold women, I just don't fit in
every joint I stumbled into tonight
that's just how it's been
all these double knit strangers with
gin and vermouth and recycled stories
in the naugahyde booths

with the platinum blondes
and tobacco brunettes
I'll be drinkin' to forget you
lite another cigarette
and the band's playin' something
by Tammy Wynette
and the drinks are on me tonight

all my conversations I'll just be
talkin' about you baby
borin' some sailor as I try to get through
I just want him to listen
that's all you have to do
he said I'm better off without you
till I showed him my tattoo

now the moon's rising
ain't got no time to lose
time to get down to drinking
tell the band to play the blues
drink's are on me, I'll buy another round
at the last ditch attempt saloon

warm beer and cold women, I just don't fit in
every joint I stumbled into tonight
that's just how it's been
all these double knit strangers with
gin and vermouth and recycled stories
in the naugahyde booths

with the platinum blondes
and tobacco brunettes
I'll be drinking to forget you
lite another cigarette
and the band's playing somethin'
by Johnnie Barnett
and the drinks are on me tonight

Jumping rope

Whip, whirl, Whip, whirl,
faster and faster the rope spins,
and I jump.
My wrist and arms move the rope in it's perfectly circular bubble forming arch,
The eyes focus for balance,
The ears listen for the whip and whirl whirl,
and my heart beat falls into rhythm in a symphony of practicing perfection.

Whip, whirl, Whip, whirl
Bubbling rage warms my blood,
and the rope moves faster.

Whip, whirl, Whip, whirl
Controlled and wild the feet dance in skips and hops,
then a side to side,
left leg, right leg,
I dance and dance and dance,
in bodily rhythm in rage and in joy,
in contradiction.

Whip, whirl, Whip, whirl
Blood boils, sweat drips and when the lactic acid in my muscles can't take it
and when my lungs gasp,
I'll lose rhythm,

Whip, whirl, whirl
and Stop. - but my spirit still moves, heart still beats, and sweat still drips.

Draft 5?? I think

As a Vietnamese-American with immigrant parents, I learned the value of an education and the necessity of knowing English well at a very young age. English may not be the official language of the United States, but it is clear that those who cannot speak or write it well are marginalized in this society. They are misunderstood and all too often passed off as unintelligent.

I have been my family's translator since the age of five. I would go to the bank with my mother and father, who came to the United States by way of a small fishing boat, a six month stint at a Malaysian refugee camp, an asylum rejection from Australia, and finally a flight sponsored by a small Boston organization that helped refugees of the Vietnam War. I would explain to the bank teller that the address on our checks was wrong, or that my mother wanted to deposit fifty dollars of her check and cash twenty-five for groceries. When I was thirteen, my mother had lost her job and I had helped her fill out job applications and wrote her resume. Sometimes I would go with my parents to the Hospital to help fill out all the administrative forms and explain to them the Doctor's advice.  Even at a young age, I realized the service we received in restaurants, in grocery stores and retail stores was inadequate due to language barriers and misunderstandings.

 

From those experiences, I had learned that ability and education were equalizers, and so in High School, I focused my attention on social studies and took Advanced Placement courses in English and US History. With the support and encouragement of my family, I choose a major in English at The George Washington University. In my pursuit to learn the language well, I grew to love it. I took a number of creative writing classes to learn how to express the intangible, and tutored disadvantaged children in the District of Columbia to learn how to teach the process of reading the language. In my senior year, I won an award for a play I wrote from George Washington University's English Department. English became more then just a means of communication. It became expression.

 

SInce graduating from The George Washington University, I have been working at T-W as a Legal Assistant. I have learned a great deal in my exploration of a career in the field of law. What we do for our clients is something I feel I have done all my life for my biggest client, my family. We answer questions about policies, procedures and the regulations for our clients. For my Father, I once went to town hall to find out out what the rules are for putting up a fence. For T-W, I'll research state banking laws for an attorney. For my family, I looked into what forms we needed to have my grandfather come visit for six months.

 

Now in the middle of my second year at T-W, I have also learned the value of interpretation, the work involved in offering opinions, and the impact that one can have as an attorney.  I have also learned that our society is made civil by having written law, and if we are to move forward to a more civil society, all the citizens of the society must be able to take part in its dialogue either as an individual or by representation. It is a dialogue I wish to take part, to understand and to continuing interpreting.

Lighter Sides .. sorta

I've been rereading some of my past post and realized that it has been pretty damn depressing. Don't get me wrong, it's a been a tough few months, but it hasn't been all that bad. It's the little things I don't write like how often a perfect song comes onto my ipod as I'm walking somewhere. How my recent discovery of Tom Waits 1975 album 'Nighthawks at the Dinner' totally blows me away. My law school personal statement is tasking, but It's starting to take the shape I intended. Work is hard and challenging, but there is a lot of satisfaction in getting stuff done. The partners took a good interests in my selection of law schools today. I think they view me as part of the TPW farm system. I've also considered working part-time at TPW and going to school down here in DC. After my first year they would pay me pro-rated what a first year attorney would make - $125,000! I also discovered Cat Power's new CD 'The Greatest'. The woman has an amazing voice. THen there is The Elbow's new CD and Artic Ice Monkeys. DC has a bunch of great shows going on - The Velvet Sky at the Wolly Mammoth Theatre, Degas, Sickert, Toulous-Lautrec at the Phillips Collection, Dada at The National Gallery of Art, Spring Training has started, and yes, I bought the Ipod Nano (it's just easier to work out with. What?).

Last week takes the cake for being the worst week ever, and the weekend didn't really make up for it unless you count bitter coldness, Black label on the rocks and a good book....well, it was actual good.

Bitter coldness bites at my bones,
A bowl of Pho and old friends,
An old lady moans,
for a means to an end.

Sip coffee and catch up,
We're getting tats,
Yeah, another cup,
adjust my hat.

Sleep late till a quarter after noon,
Rub my eyes and finish the whiskey in my glass,
Tonight I'll howl at the moon,
and maybe get a piece of ass.

Damn its cold,
I stay in with a bottle of whiskey,
Watch a movie by myself and feel old,
Got drunk and its now colder then Helsinki.

Chatted with A.
What a Day,
'You know you are borderline insane?'
'Well do you know you can sometimes be inane?'
'I still think about you too much'
'Well quit it with all that silliness and such'
It's not you....it's..
I pour myself another strong ass Mitz

Inebriated
Situated
Mitigated
absolutely oblitirated
finally negated

To another night in apt 103 building 1703.

Purring cats and whining dogs

I had a cat scratching at my door at 4am this morning. When I finally opened it, Hanah jumps into my bed, stalks around for the most comfortable spot and proceeds to spread out and make herself at home.

This morning I had both cats on my bed watching Fox morning news as I got dressed. And me - the guy who never wants to own cats. And guys who do own cats are...weird.

 

And when they want something they purr. I prefer my Hercules' (the small white poodle/terrier mix currently residing at my parents house) whining.

Draft 2

My name is Dat. It is Vietnamese. The correct pronunciation is Dak with a short and hard a. However, at the age of three, I had an Italian woman named Maria in the Italian neighborhood of East Boston as a baby-sitter who called me Dat with a Boston accent - Da-t. And being that it was the first time I heard my name in English, Da-t with a Boston accent, stuck. Da-t is what my friends call me, but Dak is what my family calls me.  
 
 My name is a small, but significant, metaphor for the life of a Boston born Vietnamese-American with immigrant parents. At a very young age, I learned the value of an education and the necessity of knowing English well. English may not be the official language of the United States, but it is clear those who cannot speak or write it well are marginalized in this society. They are misunderstood and all too often passed off as unintelligent. 

      I have been my family's translator since the age of five. I would go to the bank with my mother and father, who came to the United States by way of a small fishing boat, a six month stint at a Malaysian refugee camp, an asylum rejection from Australia, and finally a flight sponsored by a small Boston organization that helped refugees of the Vietnam War. I would explain to the bank teller that the address on our checks was wrong, or that my mother wanted to deposit fifty dollars of her check and cash twenty-five for groceries. Sometimes I would go with my parents to the Hospital to help fill out all the administrative forms and explain to them the Doctor's advice. This was before they set up a translating service. And in middle school, I wrote my mother's resume. 

      All my translating services led me to choose a major in English at The George Washington University. In my pursuit to learn the language well, I grew to love it. I took a number of creative writing classes to learn how to express the intangible, and tutored disadvantaged children in the District of Columbia to learn how to teach the process of reading the language.

       For almost two years now, I have been working at T-W as a Legal Assistant, to explore the possibilities of a career in law. What we do for our clients is something I feel I have done all my life for my biggest client, my family. We answer questions about policies, procedures and the regulations for our clients. I go to town hall for my dad to figure out what the rules are for putting up a fence. I call the phone company for my mother to ask about a certain charge.  

      What I have learned while at T-W is that our society is made civil by the written word -the law, and if we are to move forward, all the citizens of the society must be able to take part in its dialogue. I still introduce myself to people as Da-t, with a Boston accent. Most times I will repeat it and then spell it out. And every now and then I'll tell its story because I do, at least, have that luxury.

Follow up

SweetyDQ315: o damn
SweetyDQ315: good job
SweetyDQ315: lol
SweetyDQ315: ok i'm gonna gooo
SweetyDQ315: o yea ba's dads bosses daughters comin next week and stayoin over
SweetyDQ315: shud i make her drink?
DAT324: I heard
SweetyDQ315: cuz i'm gonna be partyin
SweetyDQ315: lol
SweetyDQ315: akward
DAT324: definetly get her drunk

Happy Birthday George

SweetyDQ315: yo
SweetyDQ315: i'm drunk
SweetyDQ315: woooo
SweetyDQ315: lol
SweetyDQ315: shhhh
DAT324: hahaha
SweetyDQ315: happy presidents day

That's my little sister. The NYU freshman.

The meaning of being Single

My CD collection is mine and not intermixed, diluted or confused (although having the new Ghost Face CD next to John Mayer is rather confusing to some).

There aren't long hairs left on my dress shirts.

I go as I please.

Saturday nights have no obligations.

My movie choice is mine and my taste buds get its satisfaction.

Not anxious.

And yes, I'm wearing the pair of boxers with holes in them.

 

Last night

He sits slumped against the foot of his bed on his bedroom floor. Still in his slick grey work pants and untucked black polo, he sips on Yellow Tail Chardonnay in a big bulbed wine glass, legs stretched out and crossed at his bare feet. Itunes is shuffling through his "Jazz at night" play list and Rachel Yamagata sings "Be Be Your Love," the live version.

 

A sip soothes his frustrations at work, the 13 hour day, a sloppy Prospectus, e-mails listed as priority, and research listed as essential. Another sip puts him in the shoes of the overworked attorney's with their own frustrations but lack of planning that is costing our hero his social life.

 

He stretches out, puts on his glasses and picks up a book about a family's survival during Pol Pot's rule in Cambodia. As Loung decribes the work camp conditions, he think about his own family and the conversation he had with his sister earlier.

"Call home," She says. "Ma and Ba are going to pay off the house soon, and T. is in jail."

"What?"

"Yeah, he got arrested and is in jail"

"Why?"

"He stole Ba's identity and put $8,000 on it and lots of other people!"

"I don't even know what to say."

"I know," she says and pauses.

 

11pm and He is still reading, a new glass of wine. A call to A. produces converations on dating, love, life and wants for something better.

They say what is on their minds verbally wrestling their thoughts with eachothers. Each time they hang up, he has a whole lot more to say. She knows, more likely not.

12am and he is still up thinking about his family, how his father looks like Loung's father in the book and how Loung's family was a victim of war and politics and how his was a victim of war and politics too. He sips on water and thinks about the possibilities of law school, the definitions of success, how to protect his Dad and help his cousin. He wants to make people proud. He looks in the mirror and the man that stares back  resemble that of his father and uncle, big lips, big noses, a high hair line and round cheeks. He has his mothers almond eyes and shaply chin.

 

In bed thoughts of happier days and times with a lighter heart makes him smile and drift off to sleep.

Morning Tea and Headline musing

Washington Post headline this morning:

Cartoon Protest

 

Is this not a little bit ridiculous? Excuse me for being a little bit culturally insensitive, but what is all the beef about? They are cartoons! And the Muslim response has solidified its own caricature of itself. Just wait until you see the play I will be writing to mock this whole situation.

 

Cheney's Response A Concern to GOP

 

"Be very very quiet, I am whunting for lawyers," Sorry Dick, but the guy is 78 and had a heart attack. Least you could do is publicly apologize and make nice, Jerk.

So Happy Valentine's Day

My Valentine's day playlist:

 

Ring of Fire - Social Distortion cover of Johnny Cash

Cry Cry Cry - Johnny Cash

U don't have to - Usher

Wore Me Down - Rachel Yamagata

99 Problems - Jay-Z

Girls, Girls, Girls - Jay-Z

Raise me Up - Matisyahu

Beautiful - James Blunt

Beautiful - Snoop Dogg and Pharrell

Not About Love - Fiona Apple

Sugar, We're going down - Fall out Boy

Heart in a Cage - The Strokes

You only Live Once - The Strokes

Front'n - Jamie Cullen cover of Pharrell

Reason Why - Rachel Yamagata

Sleeping with the Lights on - Teiture

Vietnamese Athletes?

Great Guy and a great Olympic story

 

I still think they need to add Football as an Olympic Sport. I would totally go back to Vietnam and try to put a team together. It'd be funnier then the creation of a Jamiacan bob sleding team.

 

On another note, I'm still reading that Loung Ung book. It's devestating. It is definetly a story that needs to be told and read.

 

Wish me luck. I'm hoping to tie up all the loose ends to my law school application by the end of this week.

Tax breaks - foriegn words for the poor

Excerpt from editorial by Sebastian Mallaby in the Washington Post this morning:

 

"Even if the administration were determined to shelter out-of-pocket payments using health savings accounts, why make them so generous? It proposes both a tax deduction and a tax credit when money goes into the accounts; savings would accumulate tax-free and could be withdrawn tax-free also. As Jason Furman points out in a paper for the Center on Budget and Policy Priorities, no other savings vehicle enjoys so many privileges. And then there's the size of these accounts. If the aim is to discipline health spending below the deductible, why subsidize savings up to $5,250 a year -- five times more than the deductible?

In sum, health savings accounts are not just about ending the tax bias in favor of traditional company health plans. The administration is proposing a new kind of 401(k), and using it as an inducement to quit low-deductible insurance. Rich people, who gain most from the tax breaks on saving, will be first to sign on; healthy people, who subsidize sicker people in company health plans, will be right behind them. Their exit may force traditional health plans into a death spiral. The loss of the subsidy from healthy workers will drive premiums up, which will drive more healthy people into health savings accounts, which will drive premiums up further."

 

How far will irresponsible capitalism go? The rich will get richer as well as better health care and the poor will get...well poorer. The continual marginalization of the poor won't last long. And the more we move towards privatization of these type of beneficial social programs, the disparity between the rich and the poor, the haves and the have-nots will be shockingly apparent.

Synchonicity

A story of Synchonicity and not just a Coincidence. And everybody loves a good baseball story, especially if it involves the Red Sox.

 

Dennis Thompson Story

Currently readin, doing, contemplating

Currently Reading First They Killed My Father: A Daughter of Cambodia Remembers by Loung Ung.

 

It's about a little girl in Cambodia who's father was a high ranking military officer when the Communist Khmer Rouge took over. Her family suffers through constant migration, starvation and beatings. I'm only half way through it, but I will admit I was almost brought to tears in the last section while reading on the Metro!! Who cries on the Metro on their way to work? And I just realized I admitted to crying...key word is almost.

 

I think it is because this family in the book reminds me of my family and how similar we are in values, in culture and situations.

 

I still havne't figured out a way to put their stories into words, but I'm trying.

 

Currently Listening to: James Blunt, The Strokes, Fionna Apple and Blackalicious

Seriously Comtemplating: Picking up Tennis, learning how to play the guitar and taking up photography again. 

Currently doing: Preparing to play the role as the defendent of a murder trial in a mock trial case tomorrow, 'working,' getting my law school application together, searching for new jobs in Boston, etc, etc.

 

post modern

Love vent: I received a package today from a former, the first love. I worry about her, I do miss her, but I'm all wrong for her.

Work vent: A simple thanks would do, Mr. Attorney 1. And Mr. Attorney 2, don't pull the power game with me. I don't even work for your department. Believe me, I will get it done as I always have.

Again, one of those days at work. I don't write about it much mostely becuase I spend so much time in it, I'd rather escape a little bit.

I did sets of jumping rope today in between diffferent sets of leg stuff and it was intense. That's really all I got.

And As I walk down East West Highway, the moon is a sliver of a finger nail. The lights blur on sequential patterns as I trod down the hill to home. It's a brisk night. It feels clean, like only a winter night can feel. My cheeks are rosy and healthy and mind diverts from tomorrow and from yesterday and brings me to the sequential lights of right now. It is very beautiful. My mind wanders from now to the symphony of foot steps on sidewalks and passing cars and to my first apple and my last good dinner out. I don't think about tomorrow, but I think about next year, then ten years and about where I'll be, who I will be with and why I'm not with that person right now. I think about shattered bottles, eye drops and hair. But I'm on my way home and that is okay.

Have some imagination

I had vented a bit today on Lauren's blog. Thanks, Lauren. I like reading your blog too. It's nice to see someone who is awake.

She is having issues with relationships and I vented my one side of it, but I contradict myself even. The other side, the side that is heart and soul, believes in the infinite possibilities of people and relationships. It's outside the relm of definition, status quo, and linear time. It's a feeling, and language is insufficient and limited in explaining IT. It's the reason we read, write, go to museams, movies, listen to music...to search for a truth.

A relationship is like a mirror. Hence the root word relate, like reflect. The other person reflects who you are and what you want to become, which isn't to say the other person, but to say the picture of yourself in the future, your growth. And when that image that you use to see everyday, once a month then maybe three times a year leaves, you get a little lost. You look in the mirror at yourself and somehow pieces of that person that use to reflect you have actually become imbedded in you. It's apart of you that you like, want to develop and so you want to stay in touch with the other person, to remain friends. It's someone you can't possibly outgrow, at least not yet, you think.

I have no answers. In fact, I'm at fault for being too melodramatic. Some call it passionate, others call it naive. Some think it's being young, I think it is essential.

My story is complicated and is a product of a War, rural and urban Vietnam, and a big city. It'll take you across Europe, Algeria, Boston, New York City and Washington, DC. It's Sororities, Fraternities, Yoga classes, cigars in Dupont and lakes in New Hampshire. There's New Years eves, 21st birthdays, The Dominican Republic and The Outerbanks. There involves private and exclusive islands, mansions, weddings, births and deaths. It's a story about pugs, art, wine, self discovery, dissappointments and extraordinary feats of humanity. It's a Christmas tree, Best friends, sibling rivalry and moving trucks. It's underappreciations, misinterpretations and at times carelessness. It's actually quite beautiful. So you see why I can't say Love me or leave me alone. I live it and live off it. My favorite phrase of late - Have some fucking imagination - to those who can't believe in something better. I like to think what people can achieve and defeat is limitless in realtionships, in life, in whatever else, but that may be just the naivete speaking out.

Monday

I had helped him earlier. He asked me if this train was going to DC in Spanglish and I said, Si, vamos a DC. And as I walked off the train at Chinatown he clapped.

My mom told me about the time my dad and her took a bus in Boston. They had no idea if they were on the right one, or when it would arrive. And they did get lost. My mom cried because they weren't sure how to get back to Dorchester. They look back on that story now and laugh, but once you conquer a cities public transportation system, the city is at your feet. That's how I felt in DC, Richmond, London, Nice, Amsterdam (well almost. We were so high we had conquered the world at one point).

I leave you with an except from my law school essay:

My name is Dat. It is Vietnamese. The correct pronounciation is Dak with a short and hard a. However, at the age of three, I had a Italian woman named Lucy in the Italian nieghborhood of East Boston as a baby-sitter who called me Dat with a Boston accent - Da-t. And being that it was the first time I heard my name in English, Da-t with a Boston accent, stuck.

My name is a small, but significant, metaphor for the life of a Boston born Vietnamese-American with immigrant parents. I would go to the bank with my mother, who came to the United States by way of a small fishing boat, a six month stint at a Maylasian refugee camp, an asylum rejection from Australia, and finally a flight sponsered by a small Boston organization that helped refugees of the Vietnam war. I would explain to the bank teller that the address on our checks were wrong, or that my mom wanted to deposit fifty dollars of her check and cash twenty-five for groceries. Sometimes I would go with her to the Doctor's office and helped her fill out all the administrative forms and explain to her the doctors advice. This was before they set up a translating service.

I really don't know what to say. I feel a little whack, out of balance, uncentered, etc. I'm not sure how to get back there. My moods have been contemplative and introspective. Hence the long walks, the movies and books with substance. I've been doing a lot of soul searching and I've concluded nothing.

I went for a long walk around the streets of DC today. 2pm I exited at the Chinatown Metro and found myself in the middle of the Chinese New Year parade. There were kids throwing snaps everywhere, loud drum beats, marching bands, dancing dragons and fire crackers. The point of the noise, the dragons and the drums is to scare away the evil spirits, to enter the new year screaming, "here I am." Standing there, as a stranger in the crowd, I let the noise and life of the parade wash over me.

I walked the streets for a long time, finding myself closely examining Félix-Hilaire Buhot's prints at the National Gallery of Art. I admire his work. He is famous for his impressionist prints. He has a way of depicting mood in city scenes. One of his prints, "Spirits from the cities of the dead," left me in awe. At the bottom right of his print, he has a flying owl, which he also adopts as part of his signature. I felt like that owl.

I worked on my law school essay at the cafe, ate a small meal at the whole foods on P street and worked on my application to Suffolk at home while watching the Superbowl.

Saturday night I went out and partied like a rock star. I'm not sure what I did, but I woke up with mud on my jeans, a voice mail about a chick fight, a sore elbow and right fist, and a phone call from A. who said I called her and was belligerent on the phone. My bad,

Man, this self-loathing is pathetic.

staying positive

No Match: I don't have enough money
Match: I intend to attract unlimited abundance into my life

No Match: I'm not as attractive as I'd like to be
Match: I'm perfect in the eyes of God, a divine manifestation of the process of creation

No Match: I don't have enough energy. I'm tired
Match: I'm a part of the ebb and flow of the limitless source of life.

No Match: I dislike the work I'm doing and the fact that I'm not appreciated
Match: I'll act upon my inner intuitive impulses to create the work or job of my dream. How many I serve?

Lineage

Watched a great series tonight on PBS called African American Lives

It's a significant piece on the struggles of prominent African Americans. It made me more appreciative of where I am today. I stand here today on the shoulders of my ancestors, and where my lineage will go, will be because of what I do. I am not some post modernist piece of unconnected random association. I have purpose, past, parentage and am progressing.

To where? I guess I have to figure that out on my own.

He fell and we helped him up

While I was walking to the WSC on Connecticut Ave at 8 last night, I watched a man in his fifties trying to hail a cab. He had his head phones on, a flannel jacket, long hair and he walked like he was drunk. He waved on a cab that had another person in it already, and then he stumbled and fell hard. It was like watching an infant try to walk. I almost walked on by, but I couldn't. I walked up to him. Man in flannel on all fours, I asked him if he was hurt, if he needed help. He said he was okay, but he shook. An SUV stopped and a man asked me if he was okay. I said I think so but I'll help him get a cab. Thanks. Then I took the mans elbow and grasp his calloused hand in mine and help him up. A girl with wavy brown hair walked over and helped lift his right side. I helped him hail a cab, and yet I couldn't tell if he was drunk or not right. He still shook and moved in spasms. So I helped him over to the cab. The wavy brown hair girl helpd me and I said, I hope he gets home okay. She said, me too. And as I walked into the gym, I thought how nice it was to know that if I fell, even strangers would help me get up again.

My Conversation with George W. Bush

In a complex and challenging time, the road of isolationism and protectionism may seem broad and inviting, yet it ends in danger and decline

You realize there are no members of congress who have said, "I support isolationism" or even remotely said something of that nature since the Nixon administration, and Nixon even went to China. And besides, any type of 'isolationism' or 'protectionism' is a product of your fundamentally unsound 'war on terror.'

And we are writing a new chapter in the story of self-government, with women lining up to vote in Afghanistan, and millions of Iraqis marking their liberty with purple ink, and men and women from Lebanon to Egypt debating the rights of individuals and the necessity of freedom.

I'm so glad we could be the authors of that book. Go America and McDonald's! I can't wait till they have a Starbucks in Baghdad.

No one can deny the success of freedom, but some men rage and fight against it.

No kidding. I baby sat this kid once, and she never wanted to be taken out of her play pen. She loved that thing. Hated freedom. Even scratch me in the eye for trying to pick her up.

But our enemies and our friends can be certain: The United States will not retreat from the world, and we will never surrender to evil.

Never. Dr. Evil is bad. Never surrender to him or The giant marshmallow. (How many politicians you know use the word 'evil' and sound intelligent?)

Yet there is a difference between responsible criticism that aims for success and defeatism that refuses to acknowledge anything but failure. Hindsight alone is not wisdom. And second-guessing is not a strategy. With so much in the balance, those of us in public office have a duty to speak with candor.

So you don't want to talk about Cindy Sheehan who's kid died in your war? Or how an audit committee found that $70,000 given to a contractor in Iraq was gambled away in a Thai whore house?

We show compassion abroad because Americans believe in the God- given dignity and worth of a villager with HIV/AIDS, or an infant with malaria, or a refugee fleeing genocide, or a young girl sold into slavery.

So we are fighting wars to help these people? And how come as a prosperous nation, we are showing little concern as a government to the suffering in Sudan.

It is said that prior to the attacks of September the 11th, our government failed to connect the dots of the conspiracy. We now know that two of the hijackers in the United States placed telephone calls to Al Qaida operatives overseas. But we did not know about their plans until it was too late.

Ah, yes. That decisive telephone call would have linked it all and not the fact that you had knowlegde about possible airline hi-jackers who were linked to a terrorist organization.

So to prevent another attack -- based on authority given to me by the Constitution and by statute -- I have authorized a terrorist surveillance program to aggressively pursue the international communications of suspected Al Qaida operatives and affiliates to and from America.

WAIT! "based on authority give to me by the Constitution and by statute" hmmm what statute was that? and the Constitution does not give anybody powers. It dictates their job and protects the people. It's not like the bible where you can twist its language and say, look - Egyptians had slaves in this story so God is giving us the power to rightfully own this family becuase their black..hey, Jordan, go mow my lawn."

So we're seeing some old temptations return. Protectionists want to escape competition, pretending that we can keep our high standard of living while walling off our economy

I think your confusing the protectionist with human rights activist who are concerned about the 12 year old girl in china who stitched the purse for your daughter today for 12 cents. And the blue collar Detroit worker is worried that he'll have to drive a KIA next year.

Others say that the government needs to take a larger role in directing the economy, centralizing more power in Washington and increasing taxes

You keep refering to these 'Others'. I saw that movie. Didn't expect that ending, but that' s the point of the title...'The Others'. Maybe if I wait till the end of the speech, I'll find out who the 'Others' is. And honestly, name one man besides Fidel Castro who thinks all those things.

We hear claims that immigrants are somehow bad for the economy, even though this economy could not function without them.

Yes, and usually those claims are coming from the Republican party. I'm glad you got a Luis Don Cantar and Maria Maria Tenora coming three times a week to the white house to clean it.

We will also fund additional research in cutting-edge methods of producing ethanol, not just from corn but from wood chips and stalks or switch grass.

Switch grasss? Is that like weed? What?...I later found out it's a type of fast growing grass that can be used to feed cattle among other things. Thanks Google.

Third, we need to encourage children to take more math and science, and to make sure those courses are rigorous enough to compete with other nations. We made a good start in the early grades with the No Child Left Behind Act, which is raising standards and lifting test scores across our country.

Applause!

Tonight I propose to train 70,000 high school teachers to lead advanced placement courses in math and science, bring 30,000 math and science professionals to teach in classrooms, and give early help to students who struggle with math so they have a better chance at good, high-wage jobs.

Applause!

Wise policies such as welfare reform, and drug education, and support for abstinence and adoption have made a difference in the character of our country.

HAHA! He said the A word...abstinence. And I'm sure you think your daughters are virgins too. Side rant: Pro choicers have to start admiting that abortions are morally wrong. It is. And then convince that pro lifers that abstinence is never going to work and then we all can get together and start hadning out condoms, provide easier access to birth control for low income areas and preach safer sex. But abortion has to be kept legal. The alternative is unsafe and scary. Government is not a moral diety, it is a system of rules, policies and laws that allow us all to live under one nation. I'm done.

Haha...Abstinence.

They are concerned about unethical conduct by public officials and discouraged by activist courts that try to redefine marriage.

Did you really put Gay Marriage in the same sentance as 'unethical conduct by public officials'. Are you calling Tommy DeLay gay? Ridiculous Bush. And what's your beef with two people who love each other getting married anyway?

.....creating animal-human hybirds

WHAT?!?!?