Constructive Construction

During my brief time in Chicago between LA and Shanghai roads were being reconstructed all over Chicago. It was a tremendous pain in the ass. To commute was to understand the infinite wait ahead of you. It was a Zen exercise that helped Chicago commuters appreciate the joys of completed infrastructure. I have been in Shanghai just over 2 months now. They have ripped apart and resurrected the sidewalk in front of my building 3(!!) times. When I return from the land of one man one jackhammer, I'm going to need to find a Sharper Image (who knew a struggling economy would turn its back) that sells a ratchet noise machine. Strangely this is not uncommon in Shanghai. Everything in the city is under construction. The streets are under construction. The sidewalks are under construction. The buildings are under construction (with badass bamboo scaffolding). But the odd thing is the construction is done quickly. The construction is efficient. Then the following week they rip it all up. They start over again. The World Expo is about 1 year from today. The Expo explains the construction. The Expo does not explain the repetition of construction. It feels like a Soprano's episode. In the analogy the Chinese Government is the Soprano Family. In this analogy I am every innocent bystander who is afraid to say anything or gets beaten with a lead pipe. I can't say China lacks for a commitment to strong infrastructure. I'm afraid to say they lack for insight on what to do with government directed labor forces (oops). Keep em busy, keep em happy. China may be onto something. The unemployment rate in the US is 8.5%. Perhaps it is better to keep people unnecessarily busy.

Outraged to the Point of Apathy

Has America gone through so much shit that we no longer realize when we've gone from waist to neck deep? At this point I don't blame anybody for their apathy. Its exhausting to continually invest in the melancholy that has surrounded the United States since Shrub took office in 2000. Nonetheless it bears on me as an inheritor of this country to feel that the checks and balances system is starting to feel like a rigged carnival game. I've attached two articles; if you're in a swell mood avoid them.

Glen Greenwald
Greeenwald continues to establish himself as a premier journalist in a period where they are most needed and least valued.

Robert Scheer
A former professor of mine and a STORIED journalist. For a journalist of this caliber, who has covered and experienced what he has, to be this outraged by the current occurrences does not bode well for the current entangled state of politics and financial institution.


Post Script: The country (and world) must take a sigh of relief and give itself its due credit for doing what they could with their voice by electing Barry. Without him at the helm this could and would be a bleaker picture. He has inherited a system that does not want reform nor does it look on itself as anything other than an incestual club of mirrored masturbators.

Our outrage is justified but insular. Newspapers are dying. Journalism is on the decline. People can literally consume media all day and learn nothing (my favorite website is hulu.com). But our shared responsibility is to stay involved. Be a quarter, an eighth, a hundredth as involved in everyday politics as the bullshit that comes with the presidential elections and we may have a shot of actually making politicians fear their constituencies. And isn't that what we the people want, a government that is scared shitless of we the people.

Possibly The Greatest Writing Team Ever Assembled (After 1789)

Carell, Colbert, Louis CK, Kaufman, Robert Smigel, Odenkirk. Jesus Christ its sarcasm's wet dream. Kaufman? Charlie Kaufman in a writers room is a Cuisinart of fear and intrigue. Can you imagine the discourse between him and Colbert? Yeah, me neither. The outcome of this Avengers/Team America workforce, 6 episodes and a fuck off. But allow me take this time to congratulate "Two & a Half Men" on its 6th season; keep up the sub-par work fellas.


Good luck Daniel.

The Man Behind the Man Behind the Man Running the Country

This is the man who will be blueprinting our country's budget for the next four (hopefully eight) years. Also the New Yorker did an interesting piece on him and the budget that is worth having a gander at.

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	M - Th 11p / 10c
Peter Orszag Pt. 2
thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full Episodes Economic Crisis Political Humor

Post Script: Kudos to Jon Stewart on his continued excellence in the field of faux News. The opening paragraph in the New Yorker article does him more justice then I could.

Where in World is Nick Lafferty Update

Jesse White has obtained 2 recent pictures of "Nick" that should help with this global effort. Again if you have any information about this enlarged man-baby please contact el Blanco at whereintheworldisnicklafferty@whogivesashit.com. Thank you & god bless.

Have You Seen This Man?

Missing 4 days. Presumed dead. Russian ex-comrade wanted for questioning. If alive "Nick", as he responds to, will most likely be frequenting numerous eateries with this expression plastered on food depository. If you have any information regarding this debonair gentleman please contact The White at whreintheworldisnicklafferty@whogivesashit.com. It takes a village; lets find him. Updates coming.

Cheaper than a Cup of Coffee in Heels

Ayi is Chinese for maid. I have an ayi. I pay her the equivalent of three dollars an hour. She cleans my apartment in high heels. She does not wear these high heels over to the apartment. She leaves the high heels at my apartment. She comes over in normal flats, enters the apartment, removes her flats and puts on the high heels that have been sitting there since the last time she cleaned. I did not request that she clean in high heels. I will from now on request that all cleaning people (yes people) wear high heels. My ayi is comfortably in her 60s. I am perplexed. I would gladly up her wage to 4 dollars an hour. I am going to smoke a cigarette.

Somebody Stole My Movie Idea...It Was Only A Matter of Time

They Call it HONG KONG

Regarding tourist visas, China has come up with an interesting rule that a person can stay here for 2 years only they must leave the country every 60 days (90 if you got your visa in Chicago). Nick and I left for Hong Kong on Nick's 59th day in China. For those of my readers who are unaware, Hong Kong is not officially part of China. It is an entirely separate entity that bends to the will of China, like Taiwan. It is also the easiest way to leave the country quickly. So Nick, me and our associate Lizzy boarded a 20 hour train with a bottle of whiskey, 14 beers and a loaf of bread. 18 1/2 hours later I wanted to see neither my companions or a train ever again. After a quick trip to the dinning car and a trim of the dog, I was ready to go through customs and board ANOTHER train to get into Hong Kong.

Hong Kong is the bastard child of Britain and China if it were raised by a Jewish accountant and a Swiss Banker (i.e. On the Hong Kong Bible it reads "In Money We Trust") on the Lost Island. The cars in Hong Kong are backwards, they love Benny Hill, they have a Red Light District and they speak Cantonese with a British accent. It's fascinating.

I would love nothing more then to regale you with stories of the nightlife and my time spent with a certain anonymous USC alumni who was born and raised in Hong Kong, but these stories are so verbose and otherworldly that it would cause you to age 6 years just hearing about it.

Needless to say I took the 90 minute return flight.


Post Script: I took the Magnetic Levitation Train (301km an hour) home from the Shanghai Airport; my 6 years were returned to me.

2nd Degree Manslaughter

"I once sold a woman a pair of exploding slacks. Did I know they were going to explode?, of course not, but some people say its as bad as if I pulled the trigger myself."





Went to Hong Kong this weekend. Post tomorrow.

Working on Musings, Pictures to Postpone

Went to an immensely odd German art exhibit that scared me to point of wetness. The gallery was located in what looked like a public rape house. I found the building far more artistically intriguing then the exhibit.

Where Unsolved Murders Go to Thrive.

It Was Raining and Ominous

Actual Angle of the Hall

Windowsill Ashtray

Hi Jeff/Johnny
(You Guys Should Totally Meet)

Duibuqi

My bad about not posting in a while. I promise to do it soon. Really soon, like right now. I live next to a 24 hour bowling alley. No longer is my 4am pick-up line inappropriate, lets go back to my place and I'll show you what I can do with three fingers. To be followed to be an even lengthier and better post. Not as soon, as in not immediately.

No Child Theft Behind

In order to do their part on the ongoing dilemma of exponential growth of population, China has put into effect the one child policy. Under this stipulation couples in China are permitted one child, whom they pray doesn't turn out fagala. This seems sensible enough for most but there is a specific group that this rule is detrimental to, street beggars. See in China, like in the United States, street begging is a full time position, but in China, like in Mexico or Vietnam, it is a job the whole family can participate in. The constraint is that the scheme is far more difficult if you only have one adorable nino on the payroll. Now that Oscar season is over and we have all unanimously agreed that the best movie ever made is Slumdog Millionaire (punching myself in the face), we all know that being a successful street hood is a two sibling operation. When I go down the street I know that the precious nino in front of me isn't going to sneak into my pocket from behind. If the parent tries it, I will notice him/her with my excellent peripheral vision and beat them like a Florence based gypsy. With two children, I could be had. As has been proven through my nephews, I do not multi-task well with children. Thus I would be a prime target for the magical practice of misdirection that could support the requestive community. But without the liberty of multi-creation these avenues of opportunity are lost to those who need them most. But life is filled with secondary avenues: as an alternative option (requestive) children could always develop a gang or even better a gang that sells Chicklets.

Lei Li @ Work

WILLY!!!!

The Rabbit Hole

I Feel Like Patton Oswald

Semi-Pro

Pictures Part 2

They Were Shooting Men in Black 3

A Rare Tender Moment Surrounded By An Even Rarer Green Environment

Kevin Bacon Impersonator

Pictures

Of Course I Don't Mind

Our View From Floor 5.. The Concession

The Cauldron

I have received complaints that I'm not posting enough pictures. Monkeys.

I Don't Have Cancer...Yet

This post is a candid look into the last 16 hours of my life. Last night while innocently watching pirated films on the couch and fondling myself (as per usual routine), I came across a protruding lump on my right testicle. After I finished the movie I reexamined myself and determined that my battle-dick had been sunk and after a grueling surgery I would be an exclamation point for my waning days. Needless to say my sleep last night consisted of a mixture of flashbacks to my circumcision and purgatorial cold sweats. When I finally got out of bed I decided that a solid day of work would distract me, but everything I saw reminded me of my impending ailment (most prominent a picture of Gonzo from the Muppets cutting Kiwis). After abandoning Nick to do the day's plowing I made an appointment at a hospital and left post haste. The grueling journey there consisted of me listening to a compilation of sad sack music that would make Roberto Benigni stick his head in the oven (Elliot Smith, Radiohead, Beethoven's Piano Sonata No. 14 in C Sharp Minor, Op. 27, No. 2 'Moonlight': Adiago Sostenuto, Frank Sinatra's I Don't Like Goodbyes and Aimee Mann's "One"). When I got to the hospital I was asked to explain my ailment to series of administrative officials. None seemed to understand. Finally I was ushered into a room and an Asian doctor who spoke perfect English came in and examined me. By examine, I mean did what I do to myself on the couch. "There's definitely a lump, let's get you an ultrasound immediately." Aimee Man playing quietly in my head. After depantsing a beautiful ultrasound technician came in and began using a ray gun to spread a fun, slippery jelly KY substance over my satchel of unmentionables. After about 6 minutes I lost my nerve, "Is it cancer?" "No, not cancer." She continued to rub the ray gun with spermicidal lube over my gradually increasing Muppet, to the point where I had to proclaim, "I'm sorry, finding out I don't have cancer makes me super horny". After 20 minutes of infatuation with my hanging huevos and a lot of Kleenex the examination was finished, I repantsed and went back into the waiting room. The very cordial doctor Yuen called me into his office and closed the door. "This is going to sound a bit odd..." "Cut the formalities doc let's be family". "When's the last time you ejaculated?" I looked at my watch. "Your right tube that provides semen to your penis is swollen and basically needs to be released more regularly." "Basically what you're telling me doc is I need more relief in my life." "I'm saying that you should try to increase your sexual activity in order to minimize swelling in that area." "Can I have that as a written prescription for that?" I left with doctor’s orders (greatest remedy since African myth about dispelling AIDS), a refillable prescription of love and a new lease on life. I implore you women of the world only you can save me from myself.

Post Script: My ultrasound technician and I are going steady.

Post Post Script: Also in the news today; Pakistan destroys morale of upcoming law enforcement, 300lbs man hates old people, Afghanistan bombing kills 8 and the auto industry looks like me after a weekend in Vegas without a hotel room. Great Day.

Diseased Expert

http://edition.cnn.com/2009/HEALTH/03/29/spain.madcow/index.html?iref=24hours

AMERICA!!!!

I didn't have my camera on me today (a travesty), so I was forced to take a picture with my blackberry. The picture was located in a bar called Yee-ha. Yee-ha is a bar dedicated to Houston TX, home to number one super fantastic Chinese megastar Yao Ming. In Yee-ha a dwelling structure caught and refused to release my eye's gaze. If not abudently clear, it is a wooden wall plaque shaped like the great state of Texas covered in 61(!!!!!!) different types of barb wire. Merger, Merger, Jackie Moon, AMERICA!



Post Script: I plan to go back with all 12.2 megapixels of my camera and do a Maplethrop type shoot and repost later.

Cultural Synonyms

During my first Chinese class, my Chinese teacher, who does not speak stellar English and occasionally struggles to communicate with me, commented that my Chinese was "terrible". I shrugged and continued on butchering her language; fuck her, I paid. My following and may I add SECOND lesson the teacher came to me with a compassionate look on her face. She, fictional American name Alice, apologized to me. She said "I misspoke last class. I used wrong word. I said your Chinese terrible this is the wrong word." Finally an apology, which was greatly due to me was forthcoming. Fictional name Alice continued; "I am sorry for misunderstanding, I meant your Chinese is horrible." A sigh of relief came over me and I continued to butcher her language, then I fucking paid her.

Post Moved

Post Moved

Shanghai Shamrock

Fear Comes in Jug Form at 80 Cents a Pop

Nick is Both my Roommate and my Umbilical Cord

Sanctuary

If any people understand excessive drinking its the Chinese. Seriously they ingest 5 yuan (about 80 cents) jugs of fire water called baijiu that makes you blind. But given that I'm relatively sure my liver is Irish, I was not going to be outdone on St. Patrick's Day. Nick (Oh, I haven't introduced you to Nick yet, where are my manners?) and I left our apartment looking for challengers only to find that we were being gawked at more than usual. It seemed my Chinese comrades were unaware of this glorious holiday and were amused by the two white devils doing their best Barney Gumble impressions. Eventually we were able to find solace at Xian O'Mally's (Chinese/Irish Pub). They were submerging shots of Jameson and Baileys into Glasses of Guinness for $3 dollars a piece. It was as civilized an evening as I've ever had.

Found a Seat on the Subway Today

It was my greatest accomplishment to date.

CHALLENGE

I, Jesse White, hereby challenge the Fear Monger. The retired blogger is too busy dulling the senses of the masses (He is currently writing a SITCOM entitled: Married With Fart Jokes) to engage in civilized battle with his intellectual better. Good day sir.


P.S. I do look forward to seeing MWFJ on the CW's mid-day Summer line-up.

In China the Chinese are the Mexicans

Everybody who works in China is Chinese. These Chinese workers are part of an ongoing observation I’ve made in my two weeks here. The cab drivers are Chinese. The people who operate the convenience stores are Chinese. The housekeepers are Chinese. Chefs in Chinese restaurants are Chinese; even the busboys are Chinese. As an American this perplexes me. Where are the different ethnicities from poorer socioeconomic backgrounds? Now that the Chinese basically own America why are the Chinese still doing their own work? See that’s how you know America has made it, we don’t do any of our own work. Americans are too important to engage in remedial tasks like cooking and cleaning. The day-to-day operations are so mundane we are better off outsourcing within the country. Long term this turned out to be an intelligent maneuver because Americans developed a new set of skills, selling invisible products and counting invisible money. So my advice to the newly crowned Chinese superpower is sit back, relax and let Africa clean up your mess.

Blog Title

Since I've been in Shanghai over a week without internet, I've been journaling my adventures free hand. When it came to my first official post I already had an array of anecdotes I wished to broadcast, but decided I should start with the blog's name. A few days after arriving in Shanghai, I needed to purchase a local cell phone. I, being ignorant to the practices of Chinese telecommunications, came unprepared without a passport. When I inquired if my IL State ID card would sufice, they looked at me confused and took the card. They spoke ZERO English and our conversation mostly consisted of me making obscene hand gestures until they gave me a registered SIM card and a bill. On the registration form, they had listed my name as Jesse White (for our non-IL readers Jesse White is both an acrobatics enthusiast and the IL Secretary of State). I did nothing to protest this and am now living in China under the alias Jesse White. I will be assembling my tumblers in the coming days.