Ang Lee and Eileen Chang

American media have not given it a good publicity.
Good that I can read news from Taiwanese news sites.
I found Reuters gave it a nice report

I believe Ang Lee is not going to disappoint Eileen Chang if she's been alive.
Ang Lee did a great job on the originally short story of Brokeback Mountain. This time is an originally short story again, from my favorite writer. I am actually nervously looking forward to how he is going to make it on the big screen.

Sex scenes have been highly emphasized in all the media who cover his new work. But I've seen all his movies. Sex may be more important in this new film than others, but the subject matter should be beyond sex. The intriguing question may be: What does sex do to people who participate in it?
The answer is in the title: Lust, Caution.

I like it that he always names the English title literally equal to the original Chinese title if the film is Chinese-speaking.
(For example, "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon", "Eat Drink Man Woman", and "Pushing Hands")

Even though the US rates it NC-17, only Taiwan will play it without trimming it.
Sex is a weird subject in the States. I just learned that many Americans of my generation did not have formal sex education when they were in grade school.

Is it a rebound? I just saw Factory Girl. Americans in the 60's were very wild. Now they "believe" in abstinence-only sex education because sex is not "safe" if you do it before getting married. This belief is so not educational.
They are so afraid of not being safe and dying of sexually transmitted diseases.
Also previously people smoked like crazy. Now ads make smoking like the worse sin.Or if you smoke to death, you'll definitely go to hell. Or if you sell cigarettes, you are the enemy of the human kind.

If they want to live long and healthy, they should simply change their diet and lose a loooot of weight. Take a look at this chart on Heart Disease and Stroke.
Americans really should lose weight, and ... enjoy sex with informative disease-preventing education, and also watch good non-English-speaking movies.

in print

Dear Mama, your dear girl is kind of carried away at this moment.
Call me when you see this post. If I am busy tangoing, leave a message and say you're proud of me.

Two weeks ago, I got a package from Penn State. I was like "what do they want from me?"
Well, this reaction was because a greater number of weeks ago, Penn State had sent me a survey, which took me good 15 minutes to complete. Yeah, I was being nice and thought I should be nice because I was a Penn Stater, right? After 5 minutes, I just wanted to finish the survey and hated the idea of quitting it because I had started it for 5 minutes.

I opened the package that arrived two weeks ago while Zabeth was visiting me.
There was an issue of Visual Cognition, the journal that I did not subscribe. I do not subscribe anything by mail.
And almost immediately I saw my name on the back cover!

Thankfully Zabeth was with me so I had someone who could totally understood it and hugged me :)
Hey, Zabeth, I love you.

And I sent Mama, Toby, and Dr. Anna of the Visual Cognition link that showed my name. And Toby's name too.

Three weeks ago, as usual, I tangoed in the central park. I was unusually early.
I sat down and changed my shoes. A woman sitting besides me started talking to me. She, who was like all other tourists who had asked me the same questions on the same bench, told me her husband was an NY Times journalist and interviewing people right now.
She led me to meet her husband. The journalist jotted down my words for two pieces of paper. His speed of taking notes was impressive.

Today, Bryan, who is happily tangoing with Sophie in Germany now, forwarded me an NY Times link.
Before I even clicked the link, Alexa chatted me that NY Times quoted me.

So Dear Mama, click here to see your dear girl's name again.

rose, umbrella, and fear

Here was my mentor, Dr. Anna, chatting with a patient.
I, standing in a nonthreatening distance, observed everything.

Actually I do not have the eye to observe everything yet.

Dr. Anna attended to each patient with great patience. It felt like that she became another person.
Looking at the patient, she was nodding and speaking slowly and smiling a lot.
Suddenly turning to me, she was commenting on the syndrome with her usual my so-called Toby-like speaking -- extremely fast, sharp, precise, with much more information than any listener is able to digest.

After four hours and four patients, I was totally wiped out. Even my stomach was too tired to cry hunger.

Each patient was unique of course. Dr. Anna had had to give up doing case studies in order to concentrate on the big picture of research on disorders.
However, there was one thing shared by all the patients we saw today. None of them could recall, after about a 10-minute delay, all of the 3 words.
When Dr. Anna asked whether they remembered the words, I repeated them in my head.
Somehow, I deeply wished them to pass this test. I was like "Come on, you can do it."

None of them could substrate 7 from 100 correctly, either. But math is always a different case. People in this culture somehow have very low self-esteem on math problems. Although this problem was as simple as 100 minus 7, they did not try to do it.
They did not have the motivation to pass a math test.
They did, however, often succeeded to tell Dr. Anna how much change would be correct when buying a 63-cent with a dollar bill.

But they did have desire to pass the word memory test. None of them passed.
The side-effect is that those words are now imprinted in my whatever cortical area.

In order to get rid of something, I write about it.
Bad idea this time.
I tried playing them into sensible and non-sensible sentences, which just made them more rooted in my head.
When my time comes, I will say the words even before the doctor asks me to remember them.

One of the patients was a holocaust surviver with a series of number marked on his arm.
Dr. Anna asked him what she could do to help him today. His answer was "the number".
If the number was so deep in his memory, no other life-irrelevant, unrelated, isolated words could occupy him.

I cannot do case studies either. Individuals are painfully fascinating.

社會中堅

十四歲那年，準備高中聯考，每個禮拜天跟一個同學在國父紀念館K書。
有一次Ｋ書完之後，到那同學家坐一下，聊著聊著就聊到那同學的姊姊，她姊姊唸的是美國學校，金城武剛從那裡畢業，然後同學突然心血來潮的說她姊姊有一個超漂亮的同學，她要拿照片給我看。
一邊翻找照片的時候一邊跟我說那漂亮的同學曾經拍過郭富城的ＭＶ。

真的很漂亮，很不可思議的完美的漂亮，大大的眼睛，甜甜的笑容，像是少女卡通裡走出來的女孩。

剛才我在YouTube看大小愛吃和康熙來了，當關穎說到金城武是她唸美國學校時候的學長，我忽然想起她就是讓我在十四歲的那個禮拜天驚為天人的漂亮女生！怪不得那麼面熟啊。

突然一個驚覺：包括大小ｓ這些跟我同年代的人漸漸的都是所謂的社會中堅份子了。

開會時，老闆跟我討論認知科學的理論和發展，旁邊的小朋友一個個都默默的害怕又安靜，我頓時發現我是大人了。
那些二十出頭的小朋友，不管是醫學生還是研究生，都還是小朋友，我已經是大人了。

終於輪到我們出場了，要演起大人的角色，要有大人的樣子。
黃金期設在四十歲，如果要用電影圈來做比喻，現在跟我同年的章子怡，有一天會變成張曼玉。
胚胚有一天會變成張曼玉　──　當大人也可以是有夢想的　:)

該是時候了

現在他應該起床了, 他必須起床了.
或者他反正也沒睡, 就一直貫徹始終的在台北過著紐約的時間, 然後背著簡單的行囊.
到火車站去.
到宜蘭金六結去.
當兵.

一直盼望著他可以走出去看看世界, 現在他不得不走出去了.
他其實是個聰明人, 他知道世界很大, 但是他就是怕離開自己的房間.

有些人處在人多的地方會孤單, 處在空曠的空間會寂寞, 最能慰藉心靈的卻是自己的被窩, 有著自己髮味的枕頭是最可以給予安全感的東西.
我知道他不是這一種人, 因為他會抱怨朋友少社交圈小.
可是他就是只會抱怨.

我沒有辦法跟只會抱怨而不願意勇敢改變現狀的人相處, 所以離開家對我來說有一種解脫的愉快. 解脫掉那些抱怨, 解脫掉總是當聽眾的角色.
雖然我現在依然是他的聽眾, 他也偶爾會聽一下我的意見, 但是我依然對一些事情無法釋懷.

他會說我不懂他的心情, 說我不懂成績不好的學生的心情, 說我不夠關心他.
但是他有想過他懂我的心情嗎?
他有關心過我嗎?
他有過問過我支身在美國的狀況嗎?

因為他是我的弟弟, 無論如何我會跟他保持聯繫, 這是我不會自願想要擺脫掉的.

有的時候想起一個舊朋友, 我還真的懷疑為什麼我等了這麼久才跟她斷線. 她跟我弟弟一個樣, 我也想問她那些我無法釋懷的問題. 不過她不是我弟弟, 於是就斷了線.
或許我跟她之間有些誤會, 但是重要嗎?

然後有些人, 我竟然鼓起勇氣重新接上線.
不是想通了, 而是心境在變, 而是我可以用正常的心跳來面對了.
照片裡的新郎和伴郎們的名字像是漩渦一樣的拉我進入長長的回憶隧道裡, 但是這次我是開懷大笑的, 一點淚滴都沒有, 心境真的變了, 我真的可以好好面對那些年裡那些人給我的微笑.

六月裡有一天晚上, 我瘋狂的找尋一疊相簿, 因為在閉上眼進入夢鄉前的一瞬間忽然想起這不是我長大的房間!
失火之後, 麻嗎一個人扛下所有大小雜事料理好重整我們家的工程, 同時也把我的臥室調到另一個房間, 所有東西跟著位移, 位移到我不熟悉的位置.
那疊相簿紀錄著我非常珍貴的一段歷史, 當時我把它們放在一起, 想說等頭髮都白了才打開來看.
但是我不能讓它們不見!
不會燒掉了吧? 應該不會, 我知道我的東西可能沾了灰但是應該都還在.
一個小時之後, 差點歇斯底里, 我總算找到了它們.
而且我翻開它們.

幾天前, 一張在東海大學教堂的照片在螢幕上出現, 我的心情就像在六月的那一晚, 當我看到一張在東海大學教堂的照片在我的相簿裡出現.

有些人, 該是時候出去走走一陣子.
有些人, 該是時候停一下看看曾經擁有的美好.

GO BUG!

So it was 105 degree. Yeah... it means about 40 C.
My room was like a Bikram studio. So I decided to focus on staying away from heat. Just dance. And dance.

I was like "Cheer up, you hot beetle."
Right, I many times talk to my car. Recently I found guilty toward him. Right, I have decided it is a gay male car. Why? Because someone told me only girls and gay guys drive in-convertible beetles. So what? I actually take it alright. I'm mentally a gay guy sometimes.
The point is three incidences recently have made me doubt my ability to be responsible to my beetle.

Incidence # 1
Two weeks ago, my beetle was parked on the upper east side of Manhattan. I found it was quite hard to find a parking there, comparing parking in upper west side. Anyway, after several blocks away from Yang's place, a guy was moving out of the street. I switched down the passenger-side window and asked him whether he was leaving.
After one afternoon, one all-night milonga, and one morning, I went back to the beetle.
Well... I thought I parked on the 76th, which I also told Nino to drop me on. After a 5-min walk, I realized that the car actually was on the 75th.
I was happy to see it and unhappy to see it by the street. Happy because it was not gone. Unhappy because the seats were in weird positions, and all my stuff was scattered randomly everywhere in the car.
AH!!! I had forgot to close the window!!!
First, I was afraid that things like my DVD/MP3 player was stolen. No, it was still in its original condition. Checking everything, I found only one thing missing: my yoga mat.
That is, cellphone chargers, sweater, umbrella, CDs, maps, insurance card, and water were not the taker's interests.
Bizzare. Very bizzare and lucky.

In one Sex and the City episode, Carrie was robbed for her shoes. Yang said New York thieves or robbers could actually be that weird.

Incidence # 2
Everyday was hot this week. The beetle was always like an oven when I was leaving the office.
Two days ago, it was ok and with breeze. It was a sign of unusualness.
Ah! I had forgot to close the window again!
The institute was built at the rim of the South Mountain area. I had seen a turkey mom with her kids running near the parking lot. I had encountered a wild duck family crossing the road. I had finally seen wild deer alive. With that said, I was lucky that no wild animal chose to reside in my car two days ago.

Incidence # 3
This incidence actually happened after the "cheer-up, you" remark to the beetle.
After milonga in downtown, we took a taxi back to the upper west side, where I parked this time, and where my friends stayed. I told the taxi driver to drop me on the 71st, and the others could keep on to the 103rd.
I was shocked that my car was not there.
It was three in the morning. Who was I gonna to call for help?
Thanks to PS who had decided to walk me. He asked why I was so sure that my car was on the 71st.
Dah! Because I knew where I parked. How could he question me like that?
Did I know where I parked? No, the view was different from what I'd seen at the parking. Hm... admitting my lost of memory, we found the beetle on the 73rd. Windows closed.

Alright, get back to the topic.
I got the EZpass, mounted on the windshield.
When there were long lines waiting to get through the toll booth, I was easily passing everybody and smiling.
And smiling even wider because it said "GO EZ PASS!" on the board at the moment when the sensor sensed me, well, sensed my pass.

It is so easy to make me smile. Smile like my beetle : )