Moon over Bali

It’s the morning of my last day in the paradise that is Bali.  I’m up this early because I was awakened by what sounded like a viscious dog fight next door.  There was a full moon last night, so maybe they were werewolves.

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Bad moon rising?

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life’s a beach

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a time to reflect

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moonburst

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moondance

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Howlin’ at the moon

Anyway, I fly at 0040 in the morning on the redeye to Seoul.  I’ll post some thoughts on the trip then.

On the beach in Bali

Friday we left the jungles of central Bali and moved to the coast for some beachside fun.

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The last night in Ubud we celebrated Yuli’s birthday at her favorite restuarant, the Dirty Duck.

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Where not surpisingly Fried Duck is the specialty.  I had seafood.

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The obligatory birthday cake ceremony.

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Ji Yeon did some souvenir shopping at a beachside stall.  That carving appears to be some kind of lewd act…

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The entrance to our hotel, the Villa Kind Bintang Resort.  Rack rate here is $95, but Yuli’s friend Yoeman got us in for a sweet 50 bucks a night.

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The lobby.  Open air as is typical of most buildings here.  Ah, life on the equator…

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The view from my room.  You can kinda sorta see the ocean in the distance.

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The pool, complete with bar.

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Where I enjoyed my share of refreshing Bintang beer.

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Yuli enjoying the water.  I think she is part fish.

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Ji Yeon tried to adopt this little German girl without success…

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The Indian Ocean.

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The beach in front of our hotel complex.

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On the 4th of July we dined beachside…

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Ji Yeon, Tom and Yeoman’s son Yoda enjoying the ambiance…

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Watching the sunset while waiting for dinner to be served.

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We purchased some roasted corn from this vendor as an appetizer.  It was sweet and delicious…

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Sundown.

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Dinner is served.  A feast fit for a king…

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Dinner for seven came to rupee 700,000.  Including several large Bintang beers, a coconut cocktail, and juice drinks.  Folks, that is $70.  Unbelievable.  And everything was delicious.

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The island of Bali.  We are beaching on that small peninsula at the bottom.  Ubud and jungle environs are about 30 KMs north.  The volcanos at the top are where we took the road trip.

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Sunday was watersports day.  I’m a keep my feet on the ground kind of guy, but Yuli enjoyed the parasailing experience.

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The banana boat was more my speed.

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Woo Hoo!

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We survived, wet but happy.

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I also had my first jet ski experience, which was really a blast.

Ok, back to my vacation.

Bali road trip

Day 4 we hired a driver and went up into the mountains.  Volcanos to be exact…

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On the way I saw flowers…

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Hillside villages…

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Bats. (biggest damn bat I ever did see)

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An Islamic mosque…

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Hindu shrines….

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Worshipers arriving by boat…

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Hindi poobahs…

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Photographed a photographer (Yuli)…

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And a picturesque pier…

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A flowering tree…

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And finally, a volcanic lake.

Next up, we move to the beach.  Stay tuned.

Fire Dance

The second part of the Wednesday night show was a fire dance.  A variation of the walking on hot coals routine I guess.  Here you go:

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A little kerosene and a match…

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Makes for a nice bonfire….

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Mama always said don’t horse around with fire…

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He kicked the coals around the floor, then walked on them until his feet were black.  Pretty impressive. 

More to come….

Kecak Fire and Trance Dance

Wednesday night we say an amazing performance of the Kecak dance.  I had never seen anything quite like it.  Well, the Whirling Dervishes in Instanbul were pretty awesome, but this was more theatre than religious ceremony.

The dance depicts a fragment of the Hindu epic Ramyana.  You can learn everything I know about it from Wikipedia.  Even though I couldn’t follow the story, it was an impressive and entertaining performance.  Here’s some photos:

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The Hindu Temple where the performance took place.

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Tradition is you where a flower in your hair here (at least they gave me one when we entered the temple.  I was feeling a little gay again.

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So, it started with this guy lighting the flames on an alter…

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And then 100 guys come out chanting, gyrating, and dancing in a fascinating display.

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Then they sat down in a circle and provided the music through voice…

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So, our first characters appear…

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Those gals could dance!

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There’s a story being told here.  Unfortnately, I can’t explain it.

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I think this monkey dancer was one of the good guys…

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Captured….

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A battle ensues…

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Justice and good ultimately prevail…

And I am out of time for now.  Later, the Fire Dance!

On the town in Ubud

Sorry for the lack of trip upadates.  I’ve encountered some spotty internet service of late.  I had made pretty good progress on a post yesterday, when my computer just froze up, which cost me the entire thing.  Frustrating for me.  Oh well, I’m in a new location (this is day 6 of my trip).  But since I want to keep on sequence, what follows is my Day 3 Trip Report.

Ubud (oobood) has its origins as an artist’s community and that is probably still an apt description.  Many studios and shops selling wood carvings and other locally made creations.  It’s a bustling place, at least during daytime.  Many great restuarants to choose from, but from what I could see an almost non-existent bar scene.  Lots of foriegners wandering the streets, from the accents I said mostly Aussies and Japanese.

Anyway, on with the show:

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Giving offerings to the Hindu gods.  This is a daily morning ritual I observed all over Bali; at temples, businesses and private homes.  And I have never witnessed a more apparently devout population–temples and shrines virtually everywhere you look.

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The locals call this the Royal Palace so I will too.  Or at least it is the entrance to the Royal Palace grounds.

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Another shrine.  Some are quite elaborate.

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Mainstreet Ubud.  You may have noticed they drive on the right side of the road here.  I’m not driving (we hire drivers) but it still takes getting used to, especially as a pedestrian.  I’m doing better now, but I envisioned a tragic miscalculation and a tombstone reading “here lies John, he wasn’t too bright, he looked to the left but he should have looked right.”

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An Ubud residential area.  Quite nice, don’t you think?

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After traversing from end to the other on Main Street, I was ready for a little rest and liquid refreshment.  Many very nice looking places to choose from, but it was Nomad for me.  Of course, I thought of Frank, formerly The Lost Nomad of Korea.  His blog is a long time gone (ahem) but we are friends on facebook now, so it’s all good.

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I have grown quite fond of Bintang, the local brew.  I camped at a street-side table, quaffed my beer, smoked, and watched the passerbys.  It was all good.

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I guess it’s pretty easy to pick out the tourist in this shot.  It amazing to see just how much the Balinese can carry on their heads.  I saw one woman with a basket on her head riding a bicycle.  I guess it’s just a question of balance.

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When in Bali do as the Balinese, as the saying goes.  The shoppers completed their expedition and joined me for lunch at Nomad.  They had me try on a sarang, and it was quite comfortable.  Although it made me feel a little gay (not that there’s anything wrong with it).

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Yuli, Joeko, and Ji Yeon waiting for the shuttle back to the hotel after our day on the town in Ubud.

Lots more to come, but I’m going to publish this now before something happens and I lose it again.  C U soon!

Out in the country

Here’s the day 2 report from Bali…

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Typical Balinese fare.  This was good…

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Dining room in the hotel.  Pretty cool, eh?

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There are statues and shrines like this all over the hotel property.  I assume this one has something to do with fertility…

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Tom and Yuli purchased some property.  A fairly complicated process given that Tom is a foriegner.  The lawyers worked out all the deatails and the deed was done.  I still can’t resist puns…

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Ye olde goldfish pond…

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Another shot of the cottages in which I currently reside…

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I think I mentioned the hotel is built into a jungle hillside…

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And that little river at the bottom gurgles me to sleep each night…

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One of the two pools on the property.  Had some excitement here.  Turns out Ji Yeon is not much of a swimmer and she didn’t realize how deep this water was until she was smack dab in the middle of the pool.  She went into a bit of panic and latched onto me, pulling me under as well.  Scared the hell out of me, because I’m not a strong enough swimmer to carry us both.  I gave her a mighty shove towards the side of the pool, but still out of her reach.  She went under again, but by now Yuli and Joeko were able to pull her the rest of the way to the side.  Definitely got my adreniline pumping…

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It was definetly more relaxing laying flat on my back on the poolside lounge chair.  This was my view from that vantage point…

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Later we went into town for a bite of lunch.  Don’t remember what this is called, but damn, it was spicy.  Made me sweat behind the ears spicy.  Luckily, I had a large bottle of Bintang, the local brew, to was it down…

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Yuli, Tom, and Yuli’s brother Joeko were unfazed by spicy lunch and cleaned their plates.  I did not and took a fair amount of razzing about it…

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We headed out to view Tom and Yuli’s new property and encountered a Hindu ceremony in progress…

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Village street scene…

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Tom’s new property…

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Ji Yeon obviously preferred the rice paddy to the swimming pool….

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Working the land.  Someday Tom’s house will overlook this area…

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Tom was quick to make friends with the local neighborhood kids…

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The street in front of Tom’s property…

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A gateway I fancied…

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Almost all the residences have a Hindu shrine on the property. 

Ok, time to get on with the vacation.  More to come.

Hanging out in the jungle

Starting my first full day in Bali here in the hotel restuarant taking advantage of the wireless internet.

It is really a beautiful location.  Food is good and things are really cheap here.  Paradise for sure.

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This guys hangs outside my room.  I’m not sure what the symbolism is intended to represent or why it was erected.  Heh.  Actually, you remove the penis and strike the statue on the back and it makes a “gong” sound.  A couple of minutes later someone shows up from the hotel asking what it is you need.  Felt bad about that, because this place is a series of hillside cottages, and getting around requires traversing numerous stairs.  So, I’ll be leaving the penis inserted for the rest of the trip!

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A river runs through it.  The view from my patio.

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The entrance to my room.  This resort was built in 1928 and in some ways is showing its age.  But, it is a nice throwback to the golden era of travel and it really quite pleasant.

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This perhaps gives you a little idea of how the cottages are built into the hillside.  Very quaint, is it not?

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Had this great western-style breakfast delivered to the room and enjoyed it on the patio surrounded by the wonderful Bali ambiance.  It tasted even better than it looks.  Oh, breakfast is included in the price of the room.  Which is about $60 US. Dinner for six last night was $24, including beer and plates and plates of Indonesia goodness.  I cashed out $500 at the airport exchange and the challenge may be finding a way to spend that much in ten days.

Did I mention this is paradise?

Bali Bali

Well, no need to hurry.  Bags are packed and I’m ready to go.  A good night sleep, then an early morning airport shuttle to Incehon and I’m on my way.

Soon I will be saying: Bali Hi!

See you on the other side.

Blowin’ in the wind…

I got bored yesterday afternoon so I went out for a cold draft beer.  Most of my regular haunts don’t open until 1800 or so, but I dropped into this little open bar (meaning no aircon, but with nice street views for people watching) run by some nice Filipinas.  Most bars play current music and rap, and I’m still stuck in the 70s for the most part when it comes to stuff I like.  For whatever reason, as I nursed my beer a folk set came up in the rotation.  I heard “500 Miles” by what I think were The Brothers Four and decided I prefer the Peter, Paul, and Mary version.  Then there was Joan Baez doing “Diamonds and Rust”, which is a great tune.  I was wondering if Bob Dylan might be next, and sure enough, up came “Blowin’ in the Wind”. 

You know, I hadn’t actually really listened to that song for quite some time.  Although as a young person I rather fancied it, of late I had just written it off as another naiive anti-war rag.  But upon further consideration after contemplating the lyrics, I think it is really a powerful reminder that some things, including freedom, are worth fighting for.  Stay with me on this while I digress.

I recently became active on Facebook.  Yeah, I know, welcome to the 21st century and all that.  It’s actually pretty cool making connections and “finding” old friends.  I actually hooked up with a high school bud via Facebook.  Chris and I were editors on the school newspaper together and were of like minds politically (leftist/radical).  Chris pursued the dream to become a journalist and currently works for a large newspaper in the Pacific Northwest.  I devoted my life to government service, which is pretty funny when I look back on just how anti-government I once was.  Anyway, in response to my invite to be a Facebook friend, I got a nice message filling me in on his life and lamenting the sad state of affairs in print jounalism these days as newspapers are going bankrupt with increasing frequency.  I responded in part:

Hey Chris. Hopefully you’ve got access now.

As I’ve watched the print media whither away I wondered how you were faring. I had it in my head that you worked for the Seattle PI which recently moved to the online version as well. I’m not clear how that business model will generate enough revenue to support a newsgathering operation, but time will tell. Good luck to you.

You know Chris, we could have a long chat about what has brought “traditional” media to this sorry state of affairs. Obviously, competition for ads from Craig’s List hurts the bottom line, but that does not explain the loss of readership. I think what has hurt the press in that regard is a loss of credibility. For years I relied on the Washington Post as my primary news source. Post 9/11, I started looking at other sources on the Internet and I was frankly surprised to find just how much of the story I was not getting. I guess I am firmly in the camp of those who believe that the MSM reports with an agenda, rather than striving for balance. I certainly saw that in the Iraq reporting, and last year’s election coverage was a farce. Love him or hate him, Obama did not face the scrutiny of Sarah Palin or even “Joe the plumber”. Unless and until the press is either up front with their bias or gets back to reporting “just the facts”, I see no hope for recovery. I’m curious what you thought of ABC’s infomercial for nationalized health care this week.

Anyway, as you might have gathered my view of the world has evolved since my “radical” high school days. Although I think I still have my core “liberal” values and beliefs, the left wing in America seems to side with those who have no love for freedom and justice. We fight about issues like Gay marriage, while homosexuals are stoned to death in much of the world with nary a protest. What’s up with that?

I’ve not as yet heard back from Chris and I’m thinking I may have scared him away.  I guess most folks think of me as a neocon these days, and hell, they might be right.  I’m sure my views must strike my old friend as being as radical as they once were, but to the other extreme.  But as Joe Walsh once sang “everybody’s so different, I haven’t changed”.  I believe that I didn’t leave the left, the left left me, so to speak.  Or maybe I always had it wrong.  I certainly always believed that the oppressed in the world had a God-given right to drink from the cup of liberty.  And if you stand up for human rights, be it women or gays or just freedom from tyranny, how can you turn your head to what was happening in Iraq and Afghanistan?  Or North Korea and Iran?  So, if that makes me a neocon, I will wear the mantle proudly and without apology.

This is the kind of “liberal” I was and remain today:

The world is very different now. For man holds in his mortal hands the power to abolish all forms of human poverty and all forms of human life. And yet the same revolutionary beliefs for which our forebears fought are still at issue around the globe — the belief that the rights of man come not from the generosity of the state, but from the hand of God.

We dare not forget today that we are the heirs of that first revolution. Let the word go forth from this time and place, to friend and foe alike, that the torch has been passed to a new generation of Americans, born in this century, tempered by war, disciplined by a hard and bitter peace, proud of our ancient heritage and unwilling to witness or permit the slow undoing of those human rights to which this Nation has always been committed, and to which we are committed today at home and around the world.

Let every nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill, that we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe, to assure the survival and the success of liberty.

This much we pledge and more.

To those old allies whose cultural and spiritual origins we share, we pledge the loyalty of faithful friends. United, there is little we cannot do in a host of cooperative ventures. Divided, there is little we can do — for we dare not meet a powerful challenge at odds and split asunder.

To those new States whom we welcome to the ranks of the free, we pledge our word that one form of colonial control shall not have passed away merely to be replaced by a far more iron tyranny. We shall not always expect to find them supporting our view. But we shall always hope to find them strongly supporting their own freedom — and to remember that, in the past, those who foolishly sought power by riding the back of the tiger ended up inside.

To those peoples in the huts and villages across the globe struggling to break the bonds of mass misery, we pledge our best efforts to help them help themselves, for whatever period is required, not because the Communists may be doing it, not because we seek their votes, but because it is right. If a free society cannot help the many who are poor, it cannot save the few who are rich.

To our sister republics south of our border, we offer a special pledge — to convert our good words into good deeds in a new alliance for progress — to assist free men and free governments in casting off the chains of poverty. But this peaceful revolution of hope cannot become the prey of hostile powers. Let all our neighbors know that we shall join with them to oppose aggression or subversion anywhere in the Americas. And let every other power know that this Hemisphere intends to remain the master of its own house.

Finally, to those nations who would make themselves our adversary, we offer not a pledge but a request — that both sides begin anew the quest for peace, before the dark powers of destruction unleashed by science engulf all humanity in planned or accidental self-destruction.

We dare not tempt them with weakness. For only when our arms are sufficient beyond doubt can we be certain beyond doubt that they will never be employed.

Let both sides unite to heed in all corners of the earth the command of Isaiah — to “undo the heavy burdens…and let the oppressed go free.”

In your hands, my fellow citizens, more than mine, will rest the final success or failure of our course. Since this country was founded, each generation of Americans has been summoned to give testimony to its national loyalty. The graves of young Americans who answered the call to service surround the globe.

Now the trumpet summons us again — not as a call to bear arms, though arms we need — not as a call to battle, though embattled we are — but a call to bear the burden of a long twilight struggle, year in and year out, “rejoicing in hope, patient in tribulation” — a struggle against the common enemies of man: tyranny, poverty, disease, and war itself.

In the long history of the world, only a few generations have been granted the role of defending freedom in its hour of maximum danger. I do not shrink from this responsibility — I welcome it. I do not believe that any of us would exchange places with any other people or any other generation. The energy, the faith, the devotion which we bring to this endeavor will light our country and all who serve it — and the glow from that fire can truly light the world.

And so, my fellow Americans: ask not what your country can do for you — ask what you can do for your country.

My fellow citizens of the world: ask not what America will do for you, but what together we can do for the freedom of man.

–John F. Kennedy – January 20, 1961

So, I think this is the proper context for considering the words of Bob Dylan’s “Blowin’ in the Wind”.

How many roads must a man walk down
Before you call him a man?
Yes, ‘n’ how many seas must a white dove sail
Before she sleeps in the sand?
Yes, ‘n’ how many times must the cannon balls fly
Before they’re forever banned?
The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind,
The answer is blowin’ in the wind.

OK, we all can agree that war is unspeakably horrible.  No one hates wars more than the soldiers who fight them.  BUT, Dylan is not saying war is never necessary or justified.  Like all of us, he instead wishes for and dreams of a day when mankind puts such foolishness behind us forever. 

How many years can a mountain exist
Before it’s washed to the sea?
Yes, ‘n’ how many years can some people exist
Before they’re allowed to be free?
Yes, ‘n’ how many times can a man turn his head,
Pretending he just doesn’t see?
The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind,
The answer is blowin’ in the wind.

Now, this verse really struck me yesterday.  Dylan is stating unequivocably that freedom is not just some ideal, but a birthright of all people.  And for those of us who are fortunate enough to have been born free, it reminds that we have an obligation not to turn our backs on the oppressed of the world.

How many times must a man look up
Before he can see the sky?
Yes, ‘n’ how many ears must one man have
Before he can hear people cry?
Yes, ‘n’ how many deaths will it take till he knows
That too many people have died?
The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind,
The answer is blowin’ in the wind.

Here’s the thing.  The left is quick to note that many have died as a result of our interventions in Iraq and Afghanistan.  And yet, there is little mention of the deaths perpetuated by Saddam and the Taliban.  Brutal massacres and heinous acts like rape, torture and oppression.  You can debate whether our intervention was warranted as a matter of national interest, but you lose me when you argue that only deaths caused by the USA are bad. 

And so it goes.  We are witnessing the depravity of the mullahs in Iran.  It is no secret about Kim Jong Il’s death camps.  How many ears must we have to hear their cries?  How many deaths is too many?  How long will they exist without being free?

The answer is blowing in the wind.

LT Dan Band rocks Yongsan

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It was a pretty good show and the crowd seemed to appreciate the effort.  The LT Dan Band features of course Gary Sinise (who played LT Dan on Forrest Gump and currently stars in CSI:NY) on bass.  Hmm, well to be honest, it is rare in a band for the bass player to be “featured”.  Paul McCartney comes to mind, but Sinise is no McCartney and doesn’t make any pretense about it.  No vocals, just plays the bass and handles the audience interactions between songs.

He has surrounded himself with some fairly talented musicians and vocalists and they keep it lively.  Sinise has put together a solid cover band that tackles a broad spectrum of popular music and they appear to have a good time doing it.   I give them props for being willing to cater to an audience ranging in age from 6 to 60 with their song selection.  I trust not many folks have heard the Andrews Sisters’ “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy from Company B” and Jimi Hendrix’ “Purple Haze” in the same set! 

So, it was a good time.  And as always, performers who come out to entertain and support our forward deployed troops around the world deserve nothing but praise.  Well done and thank you LT Dan Band!

Oldboy

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Well, I finally had Oldboy come up in my Netflix queue.  This is one of those Korean classics that comes with a can’t be missed reputation.  And I have now completed all segments of the “vengeance trilogy”.  If pushed, I guess you could say these are in the “Kill Bill” genre, although there is bit more meat here than in Tarentinos effort (violence being the potatos).  Although you will definitely get a good deal of starch in this as well. (ok, I’ve worked that analogy about as far as it will go, don’t ya think?)

Oldboy was was by far the most disturbing of the three.  It is definitely a mind bender.  I didn’t see what was coming until it hit me.  I’m not going to spoil this one for you.  If you want to know more, go here.  Otherwise just watch it yourself.  It might creep you out, but you’ll be entertained as well.  Hitchcockesque, but with sex and violence.  Ok?

On the other hand, don’t waste your time with Flightplan, a Jodie Foster vehicle.  Now, I’ve always felt Ms. Foster was a fine actress.  And I suppose her acting was just fine in this picture as well.  But what a waste of film this story was.  Just full of holes and plot contrivances that had me shaking my head in disbelief.  Which is not good, because a movie is supposed to make you believe in the reality on the screen.  The entire scenario was pure rubbish, and I felt like I was being toyed with throughout the film.  Well, I was not biting.  Better things can be found to with those two hours, trust me.

Can you give me a blowjob please?

Ahem.

Now, I’m pretty much a beer drinker.  On those occasions when a shot is called for (someone rings the bell or otherwise buys a round) I’m faced with a dilemma.  Jack Daniels is no friend of mine, and tequila kicks my ass.  So, I usually get a shot that is one part Bailey’s and one part Kahlua.  A tad sweet, but with a beer chaser not bad.  The drink is popularly known as a “blow job”.  I don’t know why.

So anyway, given that all men are basically adolescents at heart, when ordering the above referenced shot, I will invariably ask the female bartender to give me a blowjob.  Yeah, puns and double entendres are always such a hoot.  I know, I know, it’s beyond stupid and borderline (?) offensive.

Still, have you seen the new Burger King ad apparently making the rounds in the USA?

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Seven inches?  Not much of a meal.

Anyway, I don’t know if this ad vindicates me or implicates me.  But the ad doesn’t make me want to rush out to BK to get my mind “blown”.

Oh by the way, we do have BK in Korea, both on the economy and on base.  Haven’t seen this ad (or the sandwich) here though.

I am anticipating some interesting Google referrals based on the title of this post.  I expect such visitors will be sorely disappointed.  I guess they’ll say what many readers say after visiting LTG: “That sucks”.

There, I have closed the loop.

Crossing Over

No, I am not crossing over to the dark side, wherever that might be.  Last night was movie night, and as the title of this post foreshadows, the film I watched was called Crossing Over.

As regular readers know it’s kinda hit and miss with me and movies as I am pretty much out of touch with popular American culture.  Netflix has helped a little (although I tend to order Korean movies from there, go figure), but I still occasionally pick up “street movies” which is always a bit of crap shoot in all respects (quality of the DVD and quality of the content).

Which is a long way to say I had never heard of Crossing Over.  I picked it up because I recognized members of the cast–Harrison Ford, Ashley Judd, and Ray Liotta.  No clue what the movie was going to be about story-wise, but I liked my odds since it came with a talented cast.

Alright, so the actors acted at least up to expected standards.  And the story revolves around an interesting and topical issue–immigration.  But as the opening credits rolled and I saw the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) detention facility in L.A., well, I pretty much guessed what I was in for–a heapin’ helpin’ of pungent Hollywood propoganda.  And that’s what I got.

Let’s see how many illegal aliens undocumented workers were being oppressed by those meanies at DHS.   Young Mexican mother and countless other helpless immigrants doing factory work Americans won’t do?  Of course.  We also had the sad tales of a young Australian actress, a Jewish atheist from the UK, an orphaned girl from Nigeria, and a family from Bangladesh all at the mercy of those evil immigration agents.  And oh, just to round out the stew (heh, in the melting pot!) we had storylines involving legal Iranian and Korean immigrants.

Are you with me so far?  Good that was the easy part!

So, of course the villians in the story are those thankless rubes charged with enforcing U.S. immigration law.  Now, Harrison Ford’s character is somewhat sypathetic to the plight of the illegals and is roundly castigated for his kindness by his peers.  The opening scene sets the tone, as Ford inquires about the health of one of the capturees as is given a ration of sh*t about it.  Then we move on to a clothing factory raid where Ford finds a young woman hiding.  He appears ready to pretend he doesn’t see her until another ICE (Immigration and Customs Enforcement) agent happens along and asks what he’s waiting for “a marriage proposal”?  So, of course Ford hauls her out to the waiting bus.  But the women has a child staying with friends and begs Ford to take her pay there so the boy won’t be put out on the street.  Ford responds that he can’t help her, and she continues pleading and just before being placed on the bus she shoves a piece of paper into his hands.  His cronies ridicule him and he throws the paper on the ground telling them to lay off.  Of course, that night he goes back to the factory and searches the parking lot with a flashlight until he finds the paper and rescues the child.  Nice guy in the wrong job apparently.

Next up is Ray Liotta playing an immigration official responsible for approving green card applications.  He’s involved in a traffic accident with the illegal Australian actress.  And of course he tells her he can get her a green card in exchange for two months of sex.  She agrees, but feels lousy about it.  Go figure.

It gets worse.  We are then introduced to a teenage girl from Bangladesh, giving a presentation to her school classmates all decked out in the Keffiyeh headwear.  She is talking about the courageous 9/11 terrorists and how their motives were misunderstood.  She said that these poor oppressed people were only trying to be heard, and since all anyone talks about since the attacks are Islamic extremists, they were successful.  Oh she goes on and on with graphic descriptions of being “heard” above “roaring jet engines” slamming into steel buildings. Disgusting. Her classmates are going wild calling her all sorts of names (like sand monkey) and finally the teacher makes her sit down.  Now, I have to admit I was just about as pissed as her classmates yelling at the TV to get her ass out of the country.  But what really got my goat was that these Hollywood pukes actually tried to make this girl a sympathetic character.  The failed miserably I believe in attempting to justify the senseless murder of 3000 innocents.  But oh did they try!

Which brings us to the next depiction of the big baddies from DHS.  See, the school principle gave a copy of the girl’s report to the folks at Homeland Security.  And that night there was the proverbial knocking on the door by government thugs.  Turns out the girl’s family was in the country illegally, except for two siblings who were born in the USA (no relation to Bruce Springsteen I’m sure).  So, the girl is questioned harshly about her remarks and she responds with the old “I thought there was free speech in this country” routine.  People tend to foget about the consequences of expressing unpopular viewpoints.  Ask the Dixie Bitches Chicks.  Say what you want, but take responsibility for your words, don’t whine about it. The DHS agent in charge is similarly unimpressed with this line of argument.  Other agents search the room and find her diary expressing suicidal ideations and her computer showed she was a frequent visitor to jihadi websites.  Somehow these misguided government agents put 2+2 together and came up with the ridiculous conclusion that the girl was a potential threat to America.  Duh!  The girl pleads that she only said she understood why the terrorists wanted to be “heard”, not that she agreed with their methods.  The cold hearted DHS folks weren’t buying it and hauled her off to the detention facility gulag in San Pedro.  Bastards.

So then we meet Ashley Judd’s character, an immigration lawyer who won’t countenance this paranoid nonsense from DHS, calling it “ridiculous” that the government would consider this girl a threat based on the most “circumstantial evidence”.  Only problem was since the girl was an illegal she had no due process rights and Judd was told she would be deported.  Just to prove the government wasn’t totally heartless, Judd was told that if the girl went quietly with one of her parents the other could remain behind with the two natural born Americans, provided they didn’t make any trouble.  Judd was outraged but powerless to do more than rage against the machine.  So we are then treated to a tearful scene in the detention facility when the girl learns she must depart the country she so recently gleefully justified being attacked by sick, cowardly bastards.  Funny how that worked out.

Sorry for the spoilers, but damn, I’m still pretty pissed at what this movie was trying to “sell” to the American people. 

The Korean immigrants had a son who got involved with some local Korean gang bangers, and the Iranians murdered a daugher for disrepecting the family by becoming to Western in her world view (she was sleeping with a Mexican-American boyfriend, God Allah forbid.  Funny thing about that was when I looked this film up on Wikipedia I discovered this bit: “The film originally featured a scene in which an Iranian character is murdered by her brother in an honor killing, but the National Iranian American Council opposed the plotline as being unrealistic and offensive, and the killing was rewritten as a crime of passion to remove all reference to “family honor”.  Heh, that didn’t work out to well either.  I knew right away it was in fact an “honor” killing.

Ok, other than that I really liked this movie.  Seriously.  I thought it was well made, pretty well written, and entertaining.  And the best thing is I think it had the opposite impact from the one intended.  I believe most people would agree after seeing this movie that people who come to the USA illegally had best mind their P’s and Q’s.  Americans are not sympathetic to scofflaws, especially those who think crashing airliners into buildings is a cool way to be “heard”. 

Watch it yourself and see what you think.  I didn’t spoil *all* the good parts.  Promise.