Monthly Archives: April 2011

Bros & Hos, Together & The Truth Therein

Bros over hos, in suburban people’s tongue, amounts to “friends over lovers,” or perhaps “male friends over lovers,” if we were to be specific and demanding.

It is a proverb that initially seems like a complaint. You say, “Ya, dude, you got to hang out with us more!” in a seeming nonchalant way, “Give us your time, guy! We are friends and stop spendingall your time with that girl!”

It is also a proverb that, to a single man, seems precisely like a warning: “Bros over hos; if you do not get with this woman you do not worry at all, because we are still here even if you strike out.” It is a phrase that can be said to the loser of the group, without woman, in a way that conveys the concept that ‘Oh dude, I am implying that I think you can get this woman, though in actuality I think not that you can get  her, and I am preparing you for failure by conveying that I will still be here for you, eternally, even when you miss the woman that never was yours.’

It is words of strength. You will fail tonight, but I give you the notice that after said failure we will be together, still, because we are brothers, you idiot.

But there is a real truth of ‘Bros over Hos,’ because friends are eternal, and there is nothing that a friend could do that would cause me to abandon them. Even if they were a criminal guilty of things that were horrific –I’d stand by them, because that is when they would need me most, more than ever, and I would try to understand the crimes they committed.

A friend is not a friend when it is convenient — a friend is a friend when it is hard, difficult; a friend is a friend when it is an ugly truth staring you in the eye. A friend will be your friend when you face your Nuremberg trials.

And you know, when you lose a lover, someone whom your heart connected with so closely, with whom you shared your entire life down to your sexuality, it is the most difficult thing in the world.

This is precisely because ‘Bros over hos.’

Your lover was your ‘bro.’ She was your sister (if you are a man or a lesbian), or your brother (if you are a woman or a gay man,) or your potentially both (if you are of different sexuality). I will use ‘she’ so it is relevant to me.

She was there for joys and sorrows, and she was there for little jokes and boring times — times in front of computers watching little movies and she dressed up nice when she went on vacationand came back home, wearing her best clothes for you. She gave herself to you — she was what you wanted when you wanted it, and even when she was not what you wanted you  changed in a small way to be what she wanted. You gave yourself, she gave herself, and you tried hard to block the emptiness of an empty life. You tried to make happiness out of nothing, and more often than not, you succeeded.

This is because you are a great person and together you were greater than either of you could ever be alone.

I have a video of her singing to me — a joking song, just to be cute and funny. I recorded it while lying down, on the floor of her home, on a Sunday afternoon before I went back to my Hell without her. I could not watch it even though it’d been three years since she was gone.

I will never fully move beyond her and this is a cause of pain. She was not a ho — she was a bro, and the loss of a brother brings tears eternally. Tears of frustration, of defeat, of an eternal sorrow marked by the loss of something that should not have been lost.

Aristotle insisted that man was a social animal — and how social we are! Without our Others, we would be nothing.

Loneliness, isolation — this is the definition of despair.

We give our everything for other people because it is what makes us happy. We must be ourselves for ourselves, but we are ourselves because of our reactions to others. We are created by our friends & family and even the people we consider enemies. We are products of society.

We need others more than we need water & food — because without water & food  yet in the company of others, we could even die in some sense of completion. Yet, if we were all alone with all the water & food in the world, our existence would be entirely meaningless.

This is why sad movies make us cry.

I believe humans are good, and not evil, because we all want to have something good together. We don’t want it to be alone. Even though we do such great evils, even then we did it for others. We killed and plundered as bros.

We were even hos just looking for a singular particle of happiness.

Every human always hopes for something good to happen — something we can all share together.

This is why we go to sports games and cheer hard; this is why we go to concerts and lose ourselves in the sound of the music.

This is why we stand together, and not alone; when we are alone we wish we were together.

My criticism of the phrase “bros over hos” would be that it should be “Bros & hos, together.”

We should always say, “Meet me there, before it all starts; and we’ll have a drink and some of the good, old fashioned happiness.”

Because that was what we were born for and why we exist.

I don’t need my foreign friends all knocking at my door — I just want to hear some old Black Metal with a drunk, intellectual girl.

Second Childhood

I was out buying some Coke today in the very small, local convenient store… It has two aisles, thus really small. I was turning the corner and I saw a woman as old as the hills themselves; she looked so fragile that I do not even  walk down that aisle out of fear of bumping her, as she would surely break.

I had to wait in line as some late twenties woman was purchasing something, and then one of the owner’s of this family, little store approached the Ancient One.

“You are buying candy? Why are buying candy?” She asked.

“Candy? Candy??”

“Yeah, that’s candy… Hear, let me take that…” The woman in her fifties was very motherly in her taking away of the candy. The Ancient One must have picked something else up, and then I heard,

“Oh, you cannot eat that… That is hard food…”

“Oh, this isn’t soft?” I heard her say, and the exchange was repeated over and over, as she indicated other foods.

I turned and looked at the Ancient One before I was leaving, wanting to somehow convey pity, sorrow, a desire to help and a desire to honor through my eyes, forgetting that human beings are actually incapable of improving most situations with their eyes….

The woman at the cash register noticed me look, and I realized that my facial expression was probably read; I would like to have explained to her that I really dislike the idea of losing one’s mind in old age and I fear such a stage for myself, though it may be inevitable.

Existentialism W/ A Pop Music Background…

I spent several hours today in a coffee shop with  my mate Kasha studying… I was pouring over a lot  of 20th century French philosophy and the soundtrack was more than perfect if you ever wanted to be told of the absurdity of the human condition.

Phenomenological influences on existentialism and structuralism were deeply studied and meditated while I heard the best (worst) of mindless pop music that Korea & America could offer; a million love songs and romantic images painted in the coffee shop’s atmosphere were a perfect background to the Absurd World that Camus painted and Lacan’s dissection of the human  psyche and our reduction to base creatures… Merlau-Ponty never seemed so poignant — his thoughts and ideas on individual existence being determined insofar as a given situation and the remaining free choices we had to shape it, and his dream of seeing language reformed in such a way that human relationships could be transformed into positive roles, etc…

As Merleau-Ponty flirted with Communism and the rectification of human inequality I heard the pop songs and could only shake my head and snort, smile wide and take another sip of coffee… I was constantly dragged back to Sartre, Camus & company…

It all somehow fit together more clearly still as I heard bits and pieces of others conversations…

“I’m going with  my younger brother to help pick out a couple ring for him and his girlfriend,”

“Oh really? I’ve never had a couple ring. Never.”

How innocuous it would be in a different context, to hear the superficial striving for meaning in a superficial ambiance, but alas, I was reading the profound thinkers of the 20th century and could only scratch my balls, put in some more chewing tobacco and read on.

This is why underground music has played a pivotal part in  my existence, I believe:

It provides a proper context for thought.

It is never entirely meaningless, and even when it flirts with the meaninglessness it is in the context of nihilism.

But, hey… What can I say?

To read about the context of individual human existence in such a profound way and read about the consciousness of man, its role in his life and our interactions with others, and to hear humans exhorted (or at least implicitly encouraged) to define their own future, with such a background… It is terrific.

I say, buy your goddamned couple ring and while you’re at it take a moment to reflect on the present situation that has led you to this conclusion; examine the language you’ve grown up with and how it has influenced your decisions and perceptions, and consider yourself independently from social constraints and boundaries; beat your head against the brick wall of society.

When  you offer up your couple ring explain the full gravity of the situation to what I would guess is a superficial lover, offer up these words — “We are humans with a body-consciousness existence,  and we are part of a flawed, subjective existence that we cannot escape nor ever fully grasp. We can never consider the consciousness of others as a part of our own and are inexorably alienated from one another from the time we first look in a mirror and see the contrast of ourselves and our environment, in a constant struggle to balance our desires with the wishes of society… And I present  you this ring as a symbol of my unending sexual desire transformed into a socially acceptable commitment. My lover, I present to you my ring and my Heart, my heart being an abstract symbol of conscience and self that I cannot even adequately explain through human language let alone hope to give to you…

“Accept our base existence and position, and respect my stance as a free human, and let us elevate our relationship. This ring is the symbol of my contract to restrict my animal sexuality to you and to you only, and to make compromises and tell lies in the eternal effort to preserve our delicate understanding. I will tolerate your trite and unending gossip & conversation, I will make do with your physical form as you diminish in beauty over the years… I will fulfill mind numbing tasks concerning the transferring of material possessions between humans in an effort for them to dull the pains of their meaningless existence, bringing home my money and sharing it with you… I will be by your side when we sign the divorce papers, guiding your hand with tears of joy.

“I will pay the alimony so that our children may repeat the shallow courses of our lives…

“I stand before you as an honest man in the fundamentally absurd and dishonest context of society. . What say you?”

This is how the French philosophy came out at 2 AM. Of course, life isn’t this bad — at least, it doesn’t have to be. There are countless joys to be experienced and lots of meaningful moments in connecting with other human beings in an effort to understand ourselves and ascribe meaning & context to our lives, but for a moment, let us omit all that and just dwell on the baseness of our existence. Let us revel for a moment in the flesh that we crawl in.

I sometimes do this mental exercise… As I drift off to sleep, I think of  my total isolation, total alienation from all of mankind and all of society; I extinguish all feelings for all humans, one by one, and they extinguish all their feelings for me in one giant drowning of the light.

All that is left is me, a bed, a room; material objects. There is nothing but a solipsistic existence. There is only my consciousness and the animals that are all other living creatures, who are bound to their own laws, their own world, their own plain of existence.

I feel comforted, oh so strangely at home.

I am not responsible for anything but myself, and I have nobody to blame nor anyone to burden themselves with me; there is nothing to be bothered about because all that exists outside of me is Nothing-To-Me but physical shells irrelevant to my existence.

I sleep alone and I sleep well, with a cold smile on my face, as the passions of my heart and the passions of the world burn out and darkness enfolds my consciousness.

패티김 trot collection…

Patty Kim is a pretty excellent trot singer. I really enjoy her songs 그대 없이는못 살아; 서울의 찬가;내 작은가슴에; 사랑이란 두글자… etc.

This is a pretty solid collection and she was probably the first trot singer that I really enjoyed, back in the day, 2004.

I think most people could enjoy this compilation of Patty Kim’s best  music…

As a note, I theorize that she was the first Korean singer that they attempted to popularize in the West. They had her perform for the 8th Army and even had her use an English name in spite of the fact that she has no songs in English, to my knowledge, nor even a solitary English word.

I have always found this phenomenon amusing…