Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Money talks. I got that, Nepalese government

Nepalese police beat Tibetan protesters with bamboo batons, used tear gas or inflicted head wounds; one man was beaten so hard that both his feet were fractured because of Nepal's "one-China policy".

Wonder if the Nepalese government has the balls to say the same to Taiwan when it comes to cheap electronics and gadgets, "one-China policy", yeah right. It's all about the monks can only grow cheap potatoes and rice cuz they don't even have fertile land to settle in Nepal, India and Bhutan after escaping from Tibet so it's "okay" to beat them.

China Terrorizes Tibet - NY Times Editorial

Death Reported in Tibet Protests - BBC

From Los Angeles Friends of Tibet


Dear Friends,

In the last few days thousands of monks, nuns, and lay Tibetans put their lives on the line by protesting against Chinese rule in Tibet. Hundreds have reportedly been killed. Despite knowing the grim outcome the protest spread widely into different parts of Tibet, including universities and major monasteries.

Please join Tibetan Association of So Cal for a peaceful candlelight vigil in front of the Federal Building (cross street Wilshire Blvd/Veterans Ave) every day starting from Monday, March 17 at 5PM [Downtown Chick: today (March 21st), is the last day of this event, I didn't know until this morning]. We will recite prayers for the souls of all those who have lost their lives in the recent CHINA CRACKDOWN. They are our heroes, who bravely fought for Tibet till their last breath.

Tibetan Association will embrace the demand put forward by HH the Dalai Lama that representative from international organizations should investigate the real cause of the protests and actual situation in Tibet.

Please come and call all your friends to show support. Now is the time to ACT.

If you are a journalist (I know a lot of you are): It is urgent that reporters be allowed into Tibet to independently verify what has happened. If you live in the U.S., please contact your member of Congress and ask them to demand that Chinese Premier Wen Jiabao honor his promise to open Tibet to journalists.

If you are just some dude or chick: Urge the White House to speak out publicly and ask China to show restraint, as well as address the fundamental causes that have led to events of the past week. Please call the President at 202-456-1111 or contact him by email at

Please don't shoot the Tibetans, Chinese people...

Yeah, I know I'm supposed to be happy but God, life is full of suffering. I can't seem to be able to even smile these days.

Hundreds of Tibetans died since the protest broke out in Tibet: and

Western journalists're blocked; youtube's blocked; the Hong Kong reporters that did successfully enter found police over searching in their hotel rooms, taking video tapes and computer drives away, sending them to the airport with jets waiting to fly back home:

The only thing that could come out were cell phone videos:

I had been listening to NPR and reading BBC everyday on that in addition to several Western media. The call for stopping China's violence over ethnic Tibetans was crystal clear. The only places I heard cold-blooded ignorant comments of killing / imprisoning Tibetan people from, very very sadly, are "my people" - ethnic Chinese people I know from friends in Los Angeles, Chinese American radio, Chinese Internet users who posted on Internet forums and youtube threads. Okay, since I understand every word they say, seriously, I'm very disturbed...

China has been shooting Tibetans like animals in the snow mountains. Youtube video captured by the European mountaineers here: The comments in Chinese following the video say they agreed with what the Chinese army did to the Tibetan "separatists".

It was said in average, there's 1 person killed in every family because of China's invasion to Tibet in the past 50 years.

I just don't know how these Chinese patriots can face their own conscience when they command deaths of the poorest, most peaceful and religious people in the world. Well, maybe they don't have any. Very, very, very sad...

Sunday, March 16, 2008

Paris love story II: Downtown Chick is walking on clouds

“So do you have a name or something Downtown Chick?”

You know, I’m very neurotic about keeping my real name in the dark because, ugh, I know I have to come out one day… Okay, here’s why: I’m one of the Chinese Charlie’s Angels. Yes, that’s why. I help some good people to save journalists and monks from the Communists’ jail in China. My name is in the “wanted” database of Los Angeles’s Chinese Consulate for my “Separatism”. That’s why I can’t tell anybody my real name. That’s just how it is. I love what I do because I fly around roofs of buildings and beat the shit out of some bad guys to do something right. But what could I tell this sweet clueless guy looking at me so sincerely and innocently? Well, I pondered and told him about my secret political assignment. I hoped he didn’t know any Chinese patriots or I'd end up behind bars.

He opened his eyes wide and said, “Really? God, even your name is heavenly! I don’t know what name it is if not a great female author’s name. You’re just perfect Downtown Chick! I’m just Joe and I can’t even climb a lamp pole!”

Heh, silly,” I blushed. I didn’t know what to say.

Like all other lovers in Paris, Joe and I held hands, slowly walked in the big and small streets of Champ Elysees. Everything in sight became pink. Every person and car passing by became flowers and butterflies. I was astonished by Joe’s nervous smiles, awkward grins and stiff muscular movements on his horrendously weird-looking face. He was definitely a geek. No doubt about it. Let me tell you how to identify a geek? When he put his hand on your shoulder in a casual social setting just to be friendly, like in a party or something, if his hand was half closed, meaning his fingers bent, he didn’t go out much. A man’s fingers spoke a thousand words. Sheesh, which girl can resist a cute socially inapt geek whose hand shakes when he holds my hand? I started hearing La Vie en Rose by my ears…: Hold me close and hold me fast, the magic spell you cast, this is la vie en rose... God, shouldn't I at least date a respectable number of wine makers, chefs, artists or philosophers for Paris's sake? I can't believe I'm falling for an American guy in Paris. This's very absurd, anyhow.

We two senior Gen X singles grabbed two cups in Starbucks. We exchanged our login emails to become Netflix and Google Talk friends. We discussed IE, FireFox, Safari and Camino. I told him about the coyote attack and the affair of my English teacher and high school sweetheart. He told me about his 37 alcoholic ex-girlfriends who starved his cat to death and the EDD days sleeping in a Taurus. We’re getting comfortable with each other... Joe then asked me where I wanted to go. Of course I wasn't gonna eat at Quick with him even if it's in France. So I suggested to go see the Catacombes. [All catacombes photos by wallyg on flickr]

If I will die in my 60s, I have already past almost half of my life. There's always a question where I am going to after the other half, which isn't an awfully long time for 3 jobs and hopefully another degree. What probably is going to happen is I will leave this world empty handed. My 401K hopefully won't be exhausted and will go to my relatives; my writings still there; this blog belongs to you all; I have no sibling, spouse or descendant. You'd think having a companion means someone you're with permanently. Not quite. One day, we're all gonna die and no one can keep us company forever. Whatever happens now won't matter in 50 years cuz we're all gonna be dead by then anyway. This's what I think about not boning the guys but bones-and-guys. You think these human bones in the Catacombes didn't hope and dream about cute guys when they're alive? You think these human bones didn't experience love and hate? You think these human bones were never once upon a time, supple fresh skin on a girly face smiling at the window when her lover showed up at the gate? Then after a plague, they all became bare bones like these.

When I was pondering when my ass's gonna be completely flat one day, I bent forward, raise my ass and closely looked at the bones. Those beautiful, brownish and coarse human bones. I sensed some warm, vivid human breath by my cheek. I smelt a man. I turned around. Joe's face was right across mine. I was shocked. I saw a pair of closed eyes. My lips were pressed by another pair of lips...

That night, there's a hand on my ass in his motel room in Pigale. The charm of romance is hard to resist. It’s Paris. I fell in love. I'm flying back to Los Angeles with my new Downtown love tomorrow. (to be continued)