11.19.2002 // japanese, punk

considering the circumstances, i normally wouldn't have gone: i had work the next day, was on the verge of catching a cold, and so on. but i rarely get the chance to see my friend, k, who had gotten free passes for both of us, so i decided to take it as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. it is very likely that november 19th, 2002 would be the only chance to see them live, and they are known for their live performances.

i arrived in the city at around 8:30pm, coordinated with my friend k and met at the bar about an hour later. i was a bit early; across the street was a biker bar replete with about fifteen gleaming hogs parallel-parked outside, interspersed with a few custom bikes and a sportbike or two. every now and then, a contingent of the classic "mean-looking biker dudes" would emerge, jump onto their bikes and roar off down the street, but there was very little commotion otherwise.

as i stood outside the bar/lounge, shifting my weight from right foot to left in an attempt at staying warm, a yellow cab rolled up and out stepped k. a few amicable hellos later, we had no problems getting in -- he was on the guestlist and i was the "plus one".

upon entering, the most noticeable aspect was the styling of the place; definitely a place where grungy 80s rock was at home; the furnishings were minimal and even the doorman was obviously going for the "aging rocker with a day job" look; the straight black hair falling to his shoulders under a baseball cap turned backwards and the apparent eyeliner were dead giveaways. suspended from the ceiling, one for each corner of the space, television screens were tuned in to a documentary on the weirdness that was the eighties rock music scene. to the left as we walked in and separated by a partition was the raised platform stage, about 30' by 20'. all in all, a relatively small setting.

as we walk in and toward the back of the place, on the right is the bar, and in the rear, on the stage-side of the partition, there are tables selling goods with a hand-written sign scrawling "suppport the scene. you've got to buy this merch." i, broke as always, decide to stake out a vantage in the crowd from which to see the stage. a few minutes later, k joins me with a "japanese punk sucks" t-shirt. we laugh and take turns wondering when the main act is going to arrive. at the moment, a japanese rock band is playing, and although i admit to having been a b'z fan a few years ago, i'm not really feeling the whole j-rock vibe tonight. i've come for something else.

after a few more songs and some broken english in between them proclaiming his love for everyone and how happy he is to be here, the lead singer and his motley crue finally shut up and step off the stage. during the j-rock set, i've ducked out to the grimy little boys' room to put in my earplugs due to screeching guitars and ecstatic microphone abuse. the sound system is definitely not at the level of making you feel it. that, and the fact that the music isn't studio-produced; the audio quality is, of course, somewhat rough and unpolished. but that's half the fun; you get to hear what the bands really sound like.

as the main act sets up, does their sound checks and so forth, k and i observe the goth-punk japanese groupies interspersed with about an equal number of non-japanese. after about fifteen minutes of waiting, the american promoter wanders onstage to babble his stock praises for the band, touting that in japan their newest CD/DVD costs the equivalent of three HUNDRED dollars... making me all the happier that i got mine for free. the crowd waits for another few minutes in the semi-darkness, and finally kyono, the lead vocalist, takes the mike and the spotlight. he seems to decide something after looking out at the crowd for a moment. everyone laughs as he pulls out a sheet of paper with words scribbled on it and starts to read "how is everybody doing tonight?" he pauses, then carefully, "O-K. please welcome and enjoy yourself."

"speak japanese," one of the groupies shouts. "we're all here!" but by then, kyono has run out of things to say and folds the page back into his pocket.

and so the show begins. the highlights, for an electronic music-head such as myself, were definitely the gabber/hardcore/dnb beats that were interwoven in the songs, and i often found myself moving to the beats just as much as to the songs that were laid on top of them. and a funny observation about a crowd of mainly rock-loving heads: they don't dance much. except for the ten or eleven psycho moshpit kiddies in the front, most everyone was content to just nod their heads and yell the obligatory "wooo!" at the appropriate times. i tend to feel the beat with my hips and my head, so a lil wigglin' was inevitable ;)

i'm not sure exactly when it happened, but i suddenly went from seeing the band as entertainers to seeing them as artists -- that these guys were getting up in front of a crowd, setting up a vibe, and going apeshit to it, all the while having to gauge the audience response. i realized how much balls that takes and i tuned in a lot more to kyono [the lead vocalist], which added a kind of vicarious headrush as he settled into the set and really started bashing out the lyrics.

it was fun, but k is a grad student and i had work [and class] the next day, so unfortunately we had to leave before they finished their set. although i definitely see an atari teenage riot influence, mad capsule markets definitely holds their own, both on stage and in the studio.

and somehow it was five a.m. before i managed to stumble into bed. worth it, though. definitely.

audio: mad capsule markets . live performance

if ($cop eq "thug"){ know_your_rights(); }

so in other words, be polite, show them your ID, and if they ask you why you're there at that time of night, you are fully within your rights not to tell them anything.

if he gets all up in your face, feel free not to be intimidated. and if his partner is nearby, make sure that you can see any sudden moves toward you and that you have a clear exit at all times. gang tactics apply equally to doughnut men as they do to anyone else. if you trust them and there are no witnesses to the encounter [for example: if you are walking down the street in the evening and they decided to stop you for a chat], it's their word against yours.

written on 11.16.2002

in a fit of spontaneous utility, i ran from the train station back to the apartment [a twenty-minute walking distance]. the cool night air stung my lungs and condensed my breath as rhythmic stride matched heightened respiration. it feels good not to have lost my wind after having spent so much time focusing only on training in the dojang. and after sprinting up the five flights of stairs in the apartment building, i noticed that the time was only 2.15am. not too late for a friday night that should have been spent partying; i felt like the gay couple from groove because couldn't find the damn party... very unsatisfying, i must admit. as if there won't be a party tomorrow, and maybe the next day, too ;)

as far as the whole homosexuality question is concerned, there may be some resolution, or at least momentary abatement in my search for definition. over the past few years, as i have been moving farther away from mainstream society to pursue the questions and overcome the taboos that i have been indoctrinated to accept, one of the most difficult conventional stigmas to deal with is sexuality.

at this point, it would seem clear that there is more than one issue at hand in solving the personal question of sexual orientation. the factors as they have revealed themselves:

gender

social identity

sexual orientation

-> the first factor, gender, is one that i find particularly interesting and amusing. i think that anyone who spends a fair amount of time in places with large gay populations [just walk down the street in a gay-friendly section of the nearest city] has seen an obviously transsexual or transgender person. i remember not too long ago, i was walking down the street with a friend and a six-foot tall, um, person, wearing very high heels, very pushed-up 'cleavage' and two-foot tall hair flounced past. and of course, if you spend more than five minutes online, you can easily find images of transgender people who would fool even the most straight-laced priest, having given up fornication and unlawlful carnal knowledge for the safe haven of the church [among other things].

to be feminine [or effeminate, for that matter] is not necessarily to be biologically female.


-> the second factor is the identity that comes with one's choice of particular affiliations. some people choose to come out "all the way" and assume the stereotyped identity of the flamboyantly gay person, but some [i would say, probably most] keep a more hushed profile as far as their preferences are concerned. after all, everbody's got to make a living, and not every gay person is an artist ;)

that being said, there are gay people in many other professions that don't require interior decorating or fashion design. and mobility within a corporate hierarchy would be somewhat hampered if chairman-of-the-board Bob's penis envy is magnified by his male subordinate actually noticing his lack of girth and length. the driving force behind his desire for that fast car, empty-headed trophy wife, and overpriced summer home would suddenly evaporate because he would realize that the new porsche can't mask the truth in my khakis! -- a liberated gay man could single-handedly cripple the american corporate greed culture... and we can't have that.

-> the third factor is the real meat and potatoes of the question at hand:

are you gay or not?

as for myself, the answer is: nope. i met a guy at my previous job who was gay... i knew from the start, but couldn't confirm my suspicions until we had both left the company. most people are absolutely horrible at masking their body language, and he was no exception; oddly enough, none of the other males in the company could tell. he was very professional and not stereotypical in the least, but he just had that "something". so we kept in touch after leaving the job [him about six months before me] and we had a little flirtation, but nothing more. it was fun for a bit, until i realized that i had absolutely no interest in him sexually; i just liked playing the game. and he was a friend, with shared interests beyond sex as well. the aspect that enticed me about him was not the sex, but the lifestyle: the parties [a different kind of party, though], his friends, and so on. it was so different and unusual to me that i naturally gravitated toward it, for a time. but when i realized that i've essentially been making a false promise to this guy, i feel the need to decide, and be assertive about my conclusion.

but, then again, you only live once.

audio: keoki . relax [ak1200 remix]

as i sit in the back of the cab, behind the driver, the old woman sitting in the seat next to him turns and asks, "would you like to hear a funny joke?"

"sure"... bemused, i listen.

and so she begins:

"
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
"

"it's macbeth. isn't that funny? i'm on my way to the doctor, and i was going to tell him... but i just couldn't wait," she says, beaming, feeling satisfied and accomplished.

she goes on to talk about how a sense of humor is essential in this life, and that if you lose your laugh, you're pretty much lost.

"lady," i say, "if you see that [passage from macbeth] as humor, you've got nothing to worry about."

we share a chuckle, and the cab driver keeps on driving.

» but the spirit within them turned chill «

» and down dropped their wings. «

power source and battery problems. and what evil force compels those problems to manifest themselves in the middle of a journal entry?

ah. whatever.

society is a strange thing. no one seems to want what they ask for. give a stranger help, and they try to take advantage; laugh with someone and they mistake friendliness for weakness.

humans aren't animals? many die at the hands of others without a hint of reason, and even reason itself is often little more than a justification of one's actions.

superstitition versus reason, morality versus logic, efficiency versus compassion. in the mirror, just beneath the skin; the pulse reveals that blood runs freely inside a tightly bound package. how is it that no one seems as confused as i am?

of course it's a facade. a random selection of faces seen in a day surveys apparent stress. many people who seem calm unintentionally exhibit signs of strain, even in their body language -- crossed arms, a furrowed brow, a clenched jaw. anger arises in response to potential fear; fear is often a response to the threat of not being in control of a situation.

if you don't feel threatened, why get angry?
if you see that control itself is an illusion, why feel threatened?

my favorite dreams are those of gods. what torture it must be to live forever.

audio: bjork . play dead

two customers stood ahead of me. the cramped quarters of the small cafe offered little breathing room and no space for extraneous words. brain cells suffering a severe glucose shortage, i had come in for a sugary snack after a grueling period of stuffy-classroom headache. the display case showed rows of tasty nothings, utterly devoid of any nutritional value, overflowing with sensual goodness.

as my turn came to order, i spotted a golden-brown chocolate chip cookie smiling up at me from behind the glass. quickly finding the cookie irresistible, my head throbbed "yes" and i decided to take it.

the naturalistic lighting of the cafe gave the place a warm ambiance, despite the rush hour noise and bustle outside. from behind the counter, her soft, almost feline eyes held mine in a silent recognition of not knowing but wanting badly to feel. my gaze took in the contours of her face, her lips, the hurried look of serving too many customers at once. i look down at the cookie, pointing at it through the glass. we both gaze in at the selection; she starts to ask me which i want to confirm my order. as i look up, i catch her eye in the perfect way, a little innocent mischief turning up the corners of my lips. she stutters.

a full three seconds passes before she regains her composure, stammering my order back to me. "yes," i say quietly, studying her face. she bags the cookie, passes it over the counter and gives me change for the twenty dollar bill that i handed her, making a great effort not to look up again.

is beauty worth the time it takes to enjoy it? and what of the inevitable pain after separating, i wonder. unfortunately, romance seems always to work better on paper than it does in practice.


audio: paul weller ft. portishead . wild wood

written on 10.19.2002

engage to entertain
phenotype corrections

i just realized that online pr0n is my tv.

the past two hours have been spent browsing blogs, reading about general culture stuff and... browsing pr0n.

after being interrupted by a conversation with my brother about his girlfriend troubles, i was spurred to think about aspects of myself that i need to change in order to be happier in the future. considering the fact that my moods and general energy level goes polar south in the dark/cold months, the importance of a positive lifestyle looms ever greater in the course of my introspections.

the vast majority of self-assessment tests that have overpopulated the Internet recently are generally annoying and not particularly useful. a few are somewhat amusing at times, and there is one in particular that is more entertaining than most... i re-take the "test" every now and then just to see how much more of a crazed maniac the web site rates me as being ;)

the test most likely served as a catalyst for reviewing my self in relation to society... not to mention recent readings on the possible origins of consciousness.

there are relatively few extraneous elements that distract attention from my interests; i watch very little television, and i'm not addicted to the telephone. downsides: recently i haven't spent much time with friends, either, due to studying [still on academic probation] and a general reshuffling of priorities. the list of purely recreational activities in which i have participated recently is quite small.

a side-effect of my attempts to keep myself on track is that the need for relaxation and social contact doesn't suddenly disappear. although my mind is consciously focussed on one aspect of life, i still feel a sense of pressure to keep up with the others. the recent lack of sexual anything in my life combined with seasonal horniness results in the unconscious mind hijacking my thought process, and me browsing pr0n [see? it's easy; just blame it on your unconscious]. i'm half-joking but the other half actually strives to make a point.

simple answer? get some ass, foo.

not-so-simple answer? remember the principle that underlies the problem:

habitual passivity wastes time and energy. always strive to actively participate, no matter what the situation.

browsing pr0n is essentially a passive process, similar to the act of watching most television programs and hollywood movies [in terms of sensation, perception and response]: see the image [stimulus], interpret the message encoded within, "feel" stimulation due to association with previously stored referents to the stimulus.

the problem with pr0n lies within the degree of interaction. it takes zero creativity to watch a pr0n movie; a bit more to see an image and fantasize; much more to read an erotic story and construct a situation from that; more still to visualize a situation from scratch; and of course, the most skill [and enjoyment] lies within experiencing the actual event itself.

in the fight against absenting myself from my own experience, the issue becomes one not of pr0n, but of how to become more involved in this life.

if only the quick-and-easy-answers weren't usually the wrong ones... ah well, even the smartest cats don't live forever. i might as well use my curiosity to do something, even if all i do is make mistakes.

audio: tim deluxe . it just won't do