Sunday, July 11, 2010

Nonfiction Class Final Project: Essay: Lingua Franca: The Myth of the Language Barrier

Lingua Franca: The Myth of the Language Barrier


Japanese


Japanese is the 9th most widely spoken language in the world. It is characteristically hierarchal: social prestige and degree of intimacy determine the structure of the sentence. There are three alphabets, one of which consists of over 10,000 borrowed Chinese ideographs – 2,000 of which are considered necessary to know in order to read a newspaper. It has been considered one of the most difficult languages to learn for a native English speaker.

Japanese is considered a minimalist language: context can erase the grammatical need for certain parts of speech, even the subject of discussion. There is much that goes unsaid.

An American student visited Japan and discovered that all of her hard work of studying the language at home amounted to very little abroad. When she became lost, separated from her host sister, she stood helplessly until a thoughtful student paused to make a notifying phone call with her charm-laden cell-phone.


But perhaps the incident could have been avoided entirely had English been better taught in Japanese schools. English pedagogy in Japan has been repeatedly criticized for its overemphasis on English grammar and writing. This prepares the Japanese student of English for the infamous examination process but not for real-world cross-cultural communication in the global world.

Or perhaps more American students ought to become multilingual in this global world. Committed to this creed and indebted to her experience of Japanese hospitality and culture, the American student became determined to study the Japanese language.

Japanese intrigues her particularly for its humility – the way emotional distance and the degree of certainty affects conjugation. There are literally multiple ways of expressing apology, and the American student must use them all. At times when she would feel most discouraged, she would remember that her host sister Midori Naruse from the city of Otsu struggled with the same love of foreign culture and the same creed.



Russian

Russian is the 8th most widely spoken language in the world. The Cyrillic alphabet, which in some ways curiously resembles the English one, was developed in the 9th century. All 14 Republics in Europe and Central Asia once controlled by the Soviet Union retain Russian as an official language. It is included among the six official languages of the United Nations because it serves an increasingly important role in various areas of politics and science.

After returning to the United States, the American student applied to a local fast food joint that, understaffed, hired her against its usual policy. Most of the employees spoke Russian. They came not only from Russia but from other former Soviet republics such as Belarus, Kazakhstan, and Uzbekistan. The student realized that the restaurant employs mostly travelers on visas, and caters mostly to the nearby university’s foreign exchange students. Through this part-time job, the student quickly met people of over 20 nationalities. Many of them traveled to the United States to escape their country’s struggling economies, an environment which also motivated them to study English intensely.

The employee Igor Alexandrovich, whose English is the weakest of them all, would greet his co-worker with an American “Wassup!” Beyond this, English words often failed him. On his first day the American student explained the difference between “sweep” and “mop.” She could not speak with him directly, and often resorted to gestures, jokes, drawings, and pidgin English, only to hear “Ya nye ponimayu – I no unistan.” Her other co-worker Gleb, a Russian graduate of a program for English conversation and fluency, remarked that Igor is one of the students who passed his language classes but would struggle in the application.


One night at the restaurant, an employee, Sandy, the daughter of Italian immigrants, badly lacerated her finger with the cutting machine razor. She cried out, and Igor arrived at her side. He examined her bleeding hand, gestured with two fingers to ask for a scissors and spun his hand in a circle to ask for a bandage, “Whoosh whoosh whoosh!” Igor whispered to reassure her as he wrapped the gauze.

So the American student learned. At times when words fail, they often prove unnecessary.

Portuguese

Portuguese is the 7th most widely spoken language in the world. Its alphabet is the same as that of English, but with three of their letters (K, W, and Y) used only in words of foreign origin. It is fast growing as the third most widely spoken European language, with contemporary speakers around the globe including people of Brazil, Mozambique, India, and Indonesia – heirs of Portugal’s Age of Exploration centuries ago.


From that era, Portuguese became the lingua franca, the language for communication between strangers of mutually unintelligible tongues. It was spoken to convey the gospel, to conduct trade, to conquer territories, to impose sovereignty – and to build orphanages. Portuguese is no longer the language of an empire. Nor did it ever achieve the international scope and status that English holds today in this chapter of the Age of Globalization. As sovereignty, interaction and influence change hands across time, language translates to political power.



Bengali

Bengali is the 6th most widely spoken language in the world. The alphabet consists of eleven vowels with seven sounds, 39 consonant characters with 29 sounds, and with additional letters made of combined sounds. Written Bengali cannot be adequately rendered according to English phonetics, and it is often inadequately transliterated first through Hindi. Although it retains influences from Sanskrit, Arabic, Urdu, and English, Bengali, which is present in countries like Bangladesh, India, and Nepal, retains a fierce air of independence according to its past and present.

After the partition of India, the establishment of Pakistan, in 1947, the government in West Pakistan decreed that only Urdu could be spoken, effectively attacking the Bengali speakers of the East. In 1952, protests led to the death of 12 students who were martyred as members of the Bengali Language Movement. The riots and military violence culminated in Bangladesh’s war for independence in 1971, at the cost of 3 million Bangladeshi victims of genocide. The monument erected in memory of the murdered students remains printed on Bangladesh currency.

At times words may fail, but people will die for them to be spoken.

In 1999, the prime minister of Bangladesh inspired an agency of the United Nations to declare February 21st to be International Mother Language Day. The resolution stated: “the recognition was given bearing in mind that all moves to promote the dissemination of mother tongues will serve not only to encourage linguistic diversity and multilingual education but also to develop fuller awareness about linguistic and cultural traditions throughout the world and to inspire solidarity based on understanding, tolerance and dialogue.”

All languages are valuable. Perhaps it is not a lingua franca that makes international communication possible.


Hindi

Hindi is the 5th most widely spoken language in the world. It is the national language of India in addition to English and 21 other languages spoken throughout the Indian states. The language and alphabet evolved from ancient Sanskrit and it is still written with Sanskrit’s Devanagari script. Except for differences in some vocabulary and system of writing, Hindi is incredibly similar to Urdu. Before India’s partition, Hindi and Urdu were known as the same spoken language of Hindustani. Hindi also bears similarities with English, in combination with their shared ancestry as Indo-European languages and with Britain’s imperial influence. Hindi was standardized in the late 1950s and declared the national language in 1965.

One of the student’s co-workers hailed from India. He was fluent in three languages in accordance with the demand of all Indian students within the southern state of Andhra Pradesh. He spoke Telugu, his mother language, Hindi, his national language, and English, his international language. Initially skeptical of an American student’s welcome for foreigners, Bharath, whose very name is the Hindi word for his home country, kept his distance and silence. The American student thus maintained her own shyness.


Unlikely as it was, where verbal communication withered friendship still grew. One day Bharath brought the potato pastry samosa, food to share. The American student returned the favor when he struggled to work while weak with a fever. She bent down, picked up the garbage, and managed the store in his place. Then he brought Indian sweets to work. She brought a copy of the lyrics to an American song he liked.

Bharath brought the American student to a Hindu temple. His white shadow watched in awe of the many rituals. He bowed to statues of gods, recited ancient Sanskrit prayers, claimed the names in his family, gave money offerings, and received blessings from the yellow-robed priests who gently held a bowl over his head. Unable to speak, the student felt herself baptized. She could not understand the words, but somehow knew the spiritual significances. The American student too approached the shrine, bowed, took red powder from the bowl, and marked her brow. Bharath smiled and said it looked good.

The cultural exchange continued. He told her of Indian holidays like Diwali. She brought him Christmas presents. He brought her another friend in new co-workers, Kiran, Raghu, Naveen, and Nikhil – all from Andhra Pradesh. Though they had always been fluent in English, the American student took time to forget her shyness, to converse with them about work, life and culture. The American student came to regard them affectionately as among her closest friends in America. They affectionately regarded her as a fellow Indian save for coloring and language.

English did determine the lingua franca and bridged communication among these relationships. However, the American student learned that in a larger sense, the cross-cultural friendships were not made possible because of English, but because of a more global language of sharing and giving. The student once asked her friend Bharath of the difficulty of learning English and following a foreign culture. He shrugged and intoned, “Think globally, act locally.”

Arabic

Arabic is the 4th most widely spoken language in the world. Its script is standardized and written from right to left with letters that change according to their position within a word. Its present tremendous popularity apart from various dead languages with similar ancient roots is tied to the growth of Islam and its sacred text, the Qur’an. Arabic has several spoken dialects across the Middle East and North Africa in addition to a Modern Standard from known as Fus’ha, preferred as a lingua franca and a mode for public broadcasting, and a Classical form for spiritual texts and ceremonies. Modernization and use of foreign words for Arabic remains a sensitive issue among many of its speakers who hesitate to change a language founded in religious values.

The Syrian Mary Ann Ibrahim also worked at the restaurant with the student, speaking on the phone with her family and with Arab customers in Mediterranean Arabic. Completely bilingual, she freely discusses with the American student Syria’s modern day and ancient history. She, like that of her namesake, internationally revered, embraces all who know her, full of grace. MaryAnn teaches Igor English with the patience of a saint, works outside her schedule to aid her co-workers in late night closing, and cares for all even when the friendship becomes a cross. She shows hospitality founded in more than that of her cultural tradition.

English

English is the 3rd most widely spoken language in the world, and it is now the world’s most widely spoken second language. It is considered extremely versatile, with possibly the richest vocabulary and with an alphabet that has only 26 letters and about 44 sounds. It was formed by several root languages like Latin and German, and it has adapted efficiently through the changing times. Among other various reasons, this is due to the imperialism of the British Empire, its current range of speakers which exceeds that of any other language, and the efforts of the present Age of Information and spread of international media.

The American student once thought she was good at English, but scarcely knew what such an assessment meant. As an English student, when she had something to read, she usually understood it well. When she had something to write, she usually worded it well. But when she had something to say, she usually avoided it. Her openness and eloquence adjusted according to the one addressed. When she spoke with increasing frequency to foreigners, she strived to be informal and succinct. She realized her language could be extremely simplified: “Igor. Your mother. Your father. What is job?” She became less wordy, and, sometimes, curiously, more honest. The American student realized it was not English she prized but communication itself: writing to reach others with an idea, speaking to reach others with a service.


Spanish

Spanish is the 2nd most widely spoken language in the world. It features several dialects, differing across 44 countries with influences from Latin, Arabic, and English. Its alphabet is similar to that of English but much more highly phonetic, with incredibly reliable rules of pronunciation. Its speakers range primarily across the Western Hemisphere and despite the divide of the Atlantic Ocean, the Spanish of Europe can easily be understood by those who know the Spanish of America.


In the United States, approximately 10% of the population speaks Spanish. More and more American schools try to teach English-speaking children Spanish, and Spanish-speaking children English. Many children of both tongues become too frustrated, and avoid it altogether in the future. Perhaps this might not be the case if children of either tongue met more of the other.

Otherwise, sometimes English- and Spanish-speaking Americans meet each other in adulthood and their past struggles matter less than they thought. An American student’s aunt and uncle employ a woman named Rufina to watch their infant son. She does not speak a word of English, and they not a word of Spanish. But as the grandmother of over 20 children and grandchildren, with a lovely disposition, and deep friendship with the family, it hardly matters that Foster may grow up to become bilingual.


Chinese

Chinese is the most widely spoken language in the world. There are four tones to each sound which determines the meaning of words, which are depicted as syllables and parts, known as morphemes, by thousands of universally understood, but dissimilarly pronounced, ideographs and their combinations. Chinese, which has the greatest number of native speakers, encompasses many spoken subdivisions that are regarded as dialects or even other languages, with speakers very often familiar with more than one version. There are varying, complex relationships between the written and spoken Chinese languages.


English is very difficult for a native Chinese speaker. At the restaurant, many abandon altogether the attempt to verbally communicate. They will simply point at their selection, offer their credit card with both hands, and leave with a grateful smile. A new co-worker, Sam, the daughter of Punjab Indians, quit trying to distinguish thick Chinese accents and exclaimed “how do you understand them!?”

The American student, who doesn’t speak a word of Chinese, only smiles in reply.



Love


Love is spoken by less than 6 billion people in over 200 countries. It is perhaps the most popular subject in all forms of art and literature throughout time, for all time. Nevertheless, it is still considered difficult to speak.

Across the globe, teachers and philosophers, priests and prophets, strived to study this language to record the universal truth: to love one another is to love the foreigner also. Whether people follow the Buddhist Sutras, the Christian Bible, the Hindu Upanishads, the Muslim Qu’ran, or any other sacred text besides their own instincts, one must recognize that the stranger to whom they cannot speak can receive their care.

Perhaps love can also be considered a minimalist language.

The more the student of the world learns of language, the less necessary English, grammar, and structure seem to matter. What really matters in communication is the intent and attempt: the mind and the heart.


Sources:

"Chinese Language Facts." Language Helpers. Language Helpers, Web. 10 Feb 2010. .

"Bangladesh History: Bangladesh Language Movement, Bangladesh Liberation War & Independence." Discovery Bangladesh: First Travel and Tourism Portal into Bangladesh. Discoverybangladesh.com, Web. 9 Feb 2010. .

"Behind the Declaration of Internation Mother Language Day." Amor Ekushe: International Mother Language Day. Web. 9 Feb 2010. .

Brady, Anita J., and Shabbir A. Bashar. "BANGLA - The Official Language of Bangladesh." Bangladesh - Home of Royal Bengal Tigers. Bengal Telecommunication and Electric Co. - BETELCO, Web. 9 Feb 2010. < http://www.betelco.com/bd/bangla/bangla.html>.

“English Language Pronunciation.” English Language Guide. 2010. English Language Guide, Web. 10 Feb 2010. <
http://www.englishlanguageguide.com/english/pronunciation/>.

"English Language Statistics." English Language Guide. 2010. English Language Guide, Web. 10 Feb 2010. <>.

Erichson, Gerald. "10 Facts About the Spanish Language." About.com: Spanish Language. 2010. About.com, Web. 10 Feb 2010. .

"Foreign Lanugages." Kids Web Japan. Japanese Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Web. 9 Feb 2010. < http://web-japan.org/kidsweb/explore/schools/q7.html>.

"History of the Arabic." Arabic Language. 2010. Arabic Language, Web. 9 Feb 2010. .

"History of the Hindi." Hindi Language. 2010. Hindi Language, Web. 9 Feb 2010. .


Lewis, M. Paul (ed.), 2009. Ethnologue: Languages of the World, Sixteenth edition. Dallas, Tex.: SIL International. Online version: <
http://www.ethnologue.com/>.


“Learn Portuguese Language.” Language Helpers. 2010. Web. 9 Feb 2010.
.

"Learn Russian Language." Language Helpers. 2010. Web. 9 Feb 2010. .

"Portuguese Alphabet." Portuguese Language Guide. 2005-2010. Portuguese Language Guide, Web. 9 Feb 2010. .


The World Factbook 2009
. Washington, DC: Central Intelligence Agency, 2009.
<
https://www.cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/index.html>.

Kinnamon, Michael. “Welcoming the Stranger.” Baha’i Faith Index. 2005-2009 Michael Kinnamon. Web. 23 April 2010. stranger>.

Friday, July 9, 2010

Poem: Dead Girl Walking

Brought to you by yours truly, summer 2010
And Javamonster
EDIT: The spacing has been messed up, and I'm too tired to battle the HTML.
I intended each stanza to have exactly 5 lines, with an ending rhyme.

Dead Girl Walking

He met her post mortem, after the verdict of a life-long execution:
Sentenced to take the nervous injection,
Numbed with anger, the anesthetic deadly lethal
Her pulse was stopped by distrust’s stinging needle
And she was back brought with electric shock of guilt's appeal

Her eyes blinded to any romantic dreaming, her chest hollow to any intimate feeling
An era later her plaintiff returned, called her at devil’s hour with plaintive appeasing
While another professed his love, and with that word invoked the latent demon legion seized
When on his shoulder she leaned – it was that, faint and paling, she had scarcely breathed
“My dear, all tensions go away, right here,” he sighed, and that night her dead eyes began to bleed

So long since she renounced her faith, and now how had she become unfaithful?
She told each one about the other to avoid the truth that was already shameful
“Maybe,” she lied, and lied, “I’m sorry,” she cried and cried, “whore!” to herself she spat.
Twisted and torn she squirmed like a rat while confused and hurt, away from her each turned his back.
Rejection, rejection, that was her answer, and betrayal as her final act

Wheezing, waning, she sank in the dark to sleep, and felt his phantom arms around her coiling
She stirred, in a wide-eyed trance she heard, downstairs the kitchen knives were calling
Next thing she knows, out to the snows, into the night so cold she had run so far,
Her mind was sore and spinning, ankles chilled and damp and her wrists were raw,
Down the city streets she ran so fast, in all the black window glass, the worst reflection she ever saw

Accidental femme fatale, an Ophelia in reverse, Delilah indeed, she seethed, so well-rehearsed.
Hadn’t she served her sentence, from solitary half-life taken to solitary confinement cursed
Lovesickness like Satan's temptations, a demonic test; relationships a perverted question of whose possession
Better left for dead and never again such a heartless resurrection
Redemption, redemption, no such answer at all to such a hellish romantic equation


(Credit: "Alone" by HolyAnna, taken from DeviantArt)
I will gladly take this down if it offends anyone.

NonFiction Class Final Project: Poem: Social Hell

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Social Hell
Purgatory

Since adolescence, that moral baptism by unholy fire
From then I couldn’t be touched
I couldn’t see I couldn’t trust

Men who wanted only sex
Women who wanted only men
Everyone out for themselves
Myself least of all who wanted

Those lies from behind which to hide
New eyes from behind which a black painted glare
Met with none but meant to scare

Even on my notebook paper
Countless pairs of sightless almond-eyed stares
From inhuman entities and empty faces turned inwards angry towards

Others because of my fear of being seen
Locked eyes means no escape
And this more so inside enfolded arms

People who met me began to comment
She never looks you in the eye
And she doesn’t like to be touched

People who knew me began to say
You make me feel bad you know
You kind of worry me
You kind of scare me

But they say in my childhood
Don’t trust strangers and don’t you dare let anyone touch you
Maybe I remembered the advice too well and those stories

With a little girl’s fear
Hypnosis
The puppeteer’s sway over the victim doll’s lifeless form and frozen eyes

Medusa Nagaina Dracula
Over time the interpretations of the stories changed and I saw another monster
I saw myself as the sinner and among the damned

The vampire
with the curse of fatal eyes and lethal touch
with the endless crave for humankind

That seemed now less terribly demonic and more often in my life terribly angelic
Once I had no faith in grace and now grace overwhelmed
Any compassion bestowed for my favor
Any companionate hand on the shoulder

Felt sudden
Unexpected and undeserved
I jumped I gasped I shuddered
I wondered whether something was wrong
Psychologists seem to agree
My fear and awe of fiery spirits ignited the social anxieties

I could accept the diagnosis to a degree
And the study that said impossibly sustained eye contact indicates true passion
That Psychology said I couldn’t know love

The most intimate bond between two people ever
The professor reveled to my revulsion
You don’t understand it or how else could you argue to defend a brother at the cost of a lover
Head hanging blood boiling I thought of Raskolnikov who saved his sister while ashamed

To know the possible truth of a school girl’s fear
Helplessness
To be deemed incapable of human devotion

Observed at best as could be
By one apparently with only impulse and instinct
Who received grace that I could only poorly reflect

In the mirror I asked
But this façade for whose protection
It was only me afraid of my reflection

Pentecost

Now I see everyone aflame
Each a blinding, searing presence
I cannot touch and I cannot bear to look directly
into their eyes

They strike me when they stare
A blow to the back of the neck and a toxin into the brain
I cease to speak and my head falls toward the ground

They must look down on me, I’d even prefer it.
I can’t face my friends and family of twenty years or strangers of twenty seconds
I can never know what anyone’s thinking

That I’m shy, aloof, or autistic
as one with a dark nature in their eyes, and I feel so against the brightness of their blaze
Their frustration burns less than their warmth

Their hospitality that embarrasses the unworthy
The fast-formed friendships so ridiculously misplaced
The gestures of affection so fascinating

Frightening and intolerable
Kindness too intense and brightly blazing
Gentleness white-hot and searing

People must be appraised like a fire
Dangerous their beings blinding in shining
As Ishmael says of their august dignity

That demands respect and caution
Always have a way of escape
And stay away from the blaze

Transfiguration

But there was a double take in passing
I thought I saw something in him
That burned my face and clouded my thoughts

All that I allowed as a sacrifice
Before the shrine
Kept lit the lamp

He discovered through silent confession
But because I was phobic of all kinds of fire
He decided to treat me with exposure therapy

A hand on my back then the stiffened spine
Approaching from behind appearing at my side leaning
An elbow on my shoulder then the reflexive jerk

That became only a pulse and a hopeless shrug
And then it happened I could relax and respond
I could lay my hand over certain others and feel their flames

That were still far too bright
He lifted up my chin to behold a patient crafty smile
But I couldn’t lift my eyes that fell and rolled on the ground

You have to look at me to know me
But I knew your argument was flawed
No one can ever really know any one

Look at me he says
Why what goes through your mind when you make eye contact with me
My mind almost goes completely blank.
Why are you wasting your time I am going to hurt you why can’t you see that I’m scared

Of how I felt
That I too could feel a warmth
And I too could glow but then I came to think he wanted more than light

That I didn’t have
Like any other girl bold and bright and radiant
Instead of someone cold and shadowed and shifty

We didn’t really communicate well or naturally did we he mused
But for me it was really as ill and unnatural as with any
Had he thought my diffidence proved indifference

Had I thought he didn’t want me just
my body immolated
My skin peeling and receding

Until he would scatter my ashes
Borne away past the screens of space and time
No urn no relic not even another phone call.

For months as I paced over the coals
Until his circumstances heated
While mine had cooled

And it showed in confused reunion
I returned to his arms but we discovered
the convulsions resumed

Jilted had I become the traitor
Idolatrous had I become faithless
The phoenix he inspired from an ashen heart extinguished
Returned to the pages of mythology

A New Heaven and a New Earth
When I left the established past for an undetermined future
Away from the hometown going farther from those who were finally thought as near
I discovered new worlds where my behavior was not so alien

But in America it’s a sign of suspect character
Unable to face those I at once respect and too slowly meet
Sometimes led to exile

You’ve had the entire semester to be friendly and you haven’t been (I hadn’t been)
And everybody here knows it
You dumb bitch you creep me out and Alexis says you have Asperger Syndrome

Like Alan and Lizzie whom I used to know
Like autism but without dysfunction or disorder only differences
I could remember were heightened interests and lowered social expectations
Awkward but brilliant

Stuttering Alan explained
ADD is trying to watch the fly but there’s a million TV screens
Asperger’s is trying to watch the million TV screens but there’s a fly

I flew from the dormitory
I made my exodus from the Jewish girl and the rest of the tribe of Leah
I bowed out with a final inadequate offering

Since the Passover as in Egypt or like Arabia or India
Where men do not touch women and women do not touch men
My social inhibition could be perceived as honorable tradition

After coming to America an Indian man watched me draw a knife against another’s flirtation
My joking gesture to hide the reverberating of the familiar tremor
The other left and he commended my barbarism as a sign of culture

Like his own and from a friend whom he couldn’t hug
From whom such little affection would ever be felt and never to be met in a glance
But before parting Kirankumar extended his hand

And grasping
I realized divine mercy and sensed a transcending covenant
Steam rising from my downcast eyes

Rapture
I believe again in eternal flames
No matter where I run I recall the embers
Individual lights of the heavens as distant as I’ve ever preferred

To walk the abandoned streets
Easier than to enter another’s life
Than to pass through their gates of hell
And easier still than to bear another’s glory

That I want to watch and perhaps to tend
With all I can give
Without my eyes before the gleam

Against my gloom
The haze and the smoldering
That makes me choke when I see another’s steady flare

I can only admire from afar
As I flee the apocalyptic judgment
After the burns I just feel a different kind of numb

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Geography, Puns, and Caffeine

And now for something completely different:
It was 2am and I read the Facebook status of a friend which begged a reply from me.

Prompt: "Jamaican me Hungary"

Reply: Howabout Uganda at the Chile I cooked with the Canada (canned?) vegetables that I fried in Japan - I poured some in your grandmother's China and Iran to tell you it was ready but you left Togo to Rwanda (wander) in the park with a Guyana friend named Chad who plays the Qatar so I Bhutan some plastic wrap because there was Norway I Malawi (am allowing) it to go to waste. If you want Samoa, look India fridge next to the Turkey. Kenya tell I Benin Syria love with geography and puns? Oman, I Congo on for a while.

And then I found this: http://www.estetica-design-forum.com/off-topic/32127-epic-facebook-pun-thread-epic.html

Sunday, June 6, 2010

Premise

Why start a blog?

Because, of course, I need to practice the act of writing. I need to be writing regularly just as I ought to be exercising regularly and exercising any potential skill regularly. I need to be disciplined. Through diligence and discipline I will become less shameful and maybe a little more impressive. Right now I am and I should be very much ashamed of myself. So I must lift my regularly downcast eyes to the pen and the page, and then to the keyboard and the screen.

Why call this blog "Alien Nation"?

I recognized that better blogs have themes. I also recognized that my past writing might argue two themes: estrangement (like those of any other reader and writer who practice their estranging acts) and internationalism, by which I mean the appreciation of foreign countries and the people from them. Perhaps then the concept of my blog will be this: an exploration of what it means to believe that I am alone in this world - that I and anyone else are part of an Alien Nation.
And I love puns.