Thailand Footprint: The People, Things, Literature, and Music of Thailand and the Region

Archive for ‘February, 2015’

A blog post re-blogged from Pete, the Expatriate on his transitions, from world traveller, to international lawyer, to author. Looks like a blog worth following …

Peter Torjesen's avatarThe Expatriate

Nang Nak Banner Nang Nak Banner

Mae Nak Phrakanong or Nang Nak, the Ghost of Phrakanong, is the most famous ghost story in Thailand.  However, most Thais don’t consider it just a story, but believe it is tied to real events.  For me, the story of Mae Nak is of particular interest because I grew up in the middle of Phrakanong and witnessed the locals’ fears when unexplained creepy events took place in our neighbourhood.

For those who are unfamiliar with Bangkok, Phrakanong today is a district of that mega-city.  Sukhumvit runs right through it and it is located next door to Khlong Toey and just east of the main expat ghetto.  The events concerning Nang Nak are thought to have occurred in the 1830s and Phrakanong at that time was a small riverside market town situated along the Phrakanong canal.  In those days, it was a lot more isolated from the capital.

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How to Read a Poem?

2014-best-american-poetry

The current state of Poetry is that there are a spate of aspirants and a dearth of audience.  There is also a spate of hierarchy and a dearth of quality.  You needn’t read much further to deduce this latter than the current “Best American Poetry 2014”.  I’m two thirds the way through my reading of it, and I’ve come across four poems I’d read again, none especially timeless, and yet, nearly to a person their bios detail honors, awards, recipientships, publications, fellowships, and prestigious academic positions up the yin yang.  The introductions and bios run for pages and pages.  Topically, the poems run the same playlist as People Magazine, Facebook and the tabloids.

So.  Here we have me, just one person – some tiny little non-entity, who writes poetry with some small success with a nearly non-existent audience, from a fly-over state, – versus, them…Click below to read entire blog post:

via Culture.

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Interesting WordPress blog called Beyond Khao San Road and good post re a paint bar in Bangkok City …

BeyondKhaoSanRoad's avatarBeyond Khao San Road

Name: Paintbar

Address: Paintbar Bangkok, Piman 49, 46/4 Sukhumvit soi 49, Khlong Tan Nuea, Watthana, Bangkok, 10110.  

Email: Paintbarbangkok@gmail.com

Phone Number:  +66816126105

Website:    http://paintbarbangkok.com/th/

https://www.facebook.com/PaintbarBangkok

Opening Times: Tuesday – Friday: 7:00 pm – 10:00 pm, Saturday: 1:30 pm – 4:30 pm // 7.00 pm – 10.00 pm, Sunday: 1:30 pm – 4:30 pm

Prices:  We paid 649 Baht for the session. Prices vary depending on the painting chosen, the day of the week and promotions available. For up to date prices check the booking page on their website. Tapas 119 baht, Glass of Wine 239 Baht, Glass of sparkling wine 235 baht, popcorn 80 baht, mixed nuts 60 baht, beer and cider also available.

BTS: Thong Lo/ Phrom Pong (You will need to get a taxi down soi 49 as it is quite a distance to walk. Piman, where the bar is located, is easily spotted and is…

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2010-06-23-Formalities

Courtesy of MoonFruit Comics

No. I don’t believe everyone is a dick. But there are a lot of dicks on the planet and sometimes I think Thailand is the #1 dick country in the world. That makes sense, since the economy of Thailand, if not a good chunk of their GDP, has long depended on dicks. But I’m not talking about flaccid dicks or rigid dicks, I am talking about your basic everyday dick.

Dick: 1.  An adjective to describe a guy who is a jerk or does mean and stupid things.

2.An abrasive man. (Source: Urban Dictionary).

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You don’t have to be named Dick to be a dick. But sometimes it’s a bonus. Like Tricky Dick Nixon or Dick Cheney. Cheney’s been a dick for a long time. I’m pretty sure even hard core Republicans would tell you Cheney is a big dick.

In literature, you have Herman Melville’s, Moby Dick but it’s actually the protagonist, Captain Ahab that is the real dick in that novel. What the great white whale did was always understandable. Not so with Ahab. What a dick.

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I can be a dick; I know that. But I like to think that I am a dick to the dicks. The problem with two dicks going at it is no one will agree on who was the first dick. It always seems so clear to me. I think my dick meter is pretty accurate, subject to a margin of error of 5%, usually low. Agreeing on who was a dick first is like finding out someone doesn’t like you. It’s okay, you rationalize, because you didn’t like them first. It’s the same with dicks. You’ll be a dick back to a dick and the dick will think you’re the dick not realizing he’s the dick.

I did a book review for a Dick once. More than once, actually. This one has a web site, which he created, that has whatadick in the url address. Usually people talk about the dicks when they are not around, as in: “What a dick, he is.” And that may explain why there are so many dicks. There seems to be an element of pride about being a dick. And it doesn’t seem to matter if you are the first dick or the second dick, which is good because no one ever agrees on who was the first dick, anyway.

Can women be dicks? If men can be pussies surely women can be dicks. According to the above Urban Dictionary definitions, it would appear not. But that seems unfair to me and we live in age when people act like dicks when life is unfair. I’ve known some women dicks, but again it’s possible, I suppose, that they thought I was a dick before them. There’s a fine line between first dick and second dick.

Recently there has been some talk of vagina culture. I admit I know little about it. But I think I know a lot about dick culture. What makes a dick? Good question. If someone tears down a man of great accomplishments over petty reasons, I think that makes you a dick. Particularly if you tear down someone I like, such as Christopher Hitchens. If you dis Hitch you’re a dick in my book. A first dick, too. There is a bit of irony there, because even I will admit that Hitchens could be a big dick. But he did it with such class, I am sure he’d come up with a much better word for being a dick than, dick. Hitchens would pull a Philip Roth line out of his magnificent vocabulary. Anyone can call someone a wanker but it was Roth who got it down to an art form when he was talking dick:  “I am the Raskolnikov of jerking off.” He wrote in Portnoy’s Complaint. I miss Hitch. Roth stopped writing about dicks but he is still going strong at age 81. A sure sign someone is not a dick is when you miss them. No one misses a first class dick, although I’d have to be a dick not to admit that I could be wrong about that.

Is there good advice for dicks? Don’t be a dick would seem to be the no brainer, but does that include the second dicks? If there were no second dicks the first dicks would go around unencumbered by their dickness. The second dicks serve a potential purpose, to encumber the first dicks dick progress, provided you can agree on who the first dick is, and if you’ve learned anything in this dick tale it is that, while no two dicks are alike, the first dick can be in denial about his level of dickness.

So there you have it, my take on dicks. I say, knock yourself out and be a dick, sometimes, not all the time, as my wise wife likes to tell me. But only if the first dick doesn’t own up to being a dick. Or you could just ignore the dicks and do your best not to be around dicks. That’s probably the better idea. You’d have to be a real dick not to at least consider it.

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The World According to Gop - February 2015 strip

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The February 2015 edition of, The World According to Gop. The fun loving, frog in the coconut shell living in the south of Thailand.

 

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Metaphors of Death

[Here is a book review I wrote for Chiang Mai City News a few months back but never got around to posting here]:

Metaphors of Death is written by former Chiang Mai resident and Netherlands author, Dick Holzhaus. The plot involves philosophizing reporter, Tom Terrence for LannaLife Online. In spite of the facts (or perhaps because of them) that Tom is a former glue sniffing teen from England, with drug and alcohol addictions, he has been offered a promotion from the food and entertainment magazine to that of Editor for a planned online legitimate newspaper. Tom’s also a misogynist or a whore lover, depending upon your point of view, with a penchant for variety of all kinds as long as it doesn’t involve material possessions.

The story opens with a poisoned batch of yaa baa making the rounds through the Rose of the North. Tom likes his medicine crazy, he buys a bag, smokes it and ends up spending a week in a coma. He awakes to learn that the same faulty meth he purchased has claimed the lives of three foreigners plus a Colonel in the Royal Thai Police. One of the dead may have been murdered and gay rape is involved because, why not? This gets the attention of the BBC who wish to take care of their own and take on the Thai  police and military brass as well. A turf war and cover-up over major drug trafficking is in the mix. Jon a well-connected Thai national and owner/publisher of LannaLife Online cooperates with the BBC on the story and Tom ends up assigned as translator and peer for BBC journalist, Rick Drummond.

An international drug and death investigation story in tourist-town Mecca coincides with the launch of the online newspaper. The chance for Tom to become a real alcoholic-journalist appears to be in the cards. His future’s so bright he’s gotta wear Ray Ban’s. There is also a dogeared manuscript Tom has been working on for years as a struggling writer, preserved in a plastic bag. It is either potential kindling for a fire or Booker Prize material, depending on Tom’s meds. Our leading man still finds time for a genuine romantic interest to appear and she neatly doubles as a helpful editor.

I’ll let the brooding prose of Dick Holzhaus take over from here:

On Tom’s abode:

My one room apartment is deliberately depressing. I’m a prisoner of life so I live in a cell. It’s shabbiness reminds me of being a convict, my penal servitude lies on the rickety table against the wall.

On the mountains of Chiang Mai:

I like sitting in the dark on the mountainside next to someone who is new here and looks at it with different eyes. That really makes me belong here. Then I realize my confidence is backed by the cabin behind me. However familiar as a view, at nightfall the jungle becomes alien territory. This world turns pitch black for a change of shifts, pieces of bark and soil move and life forms that can see in the dark appear. Distant fires flicker through the canopy, not spreading their light, just glowing pin pricks in a black vacuum.

On Tom’s favorite philosopher:

Celine never theorized, he is the only philosopher that truly dissected the nature of humankind by describing revealing events. Maybe a proper war would help my writing.

On drugs and alcohol:

If I don’t take control soon, alcohol and drugs will be the end of me. Tonight is Friday, so that’s okay, everybody has a drink on Friday. I look at my glass, still half full with this treacherous stuff. Burping in my fist I realize I might be expelling pure alcohol fumes. I have to find out if I’m a dragon. I swallow air and burp loud at the candle on the table, it extinguishes.

On western women:

Straight western women have the worst deal here. Thai men find them big, smelly and bossy. The few white women that have relationships with Thai men are looked down upon by their peers. Having sex with animals would be less dishonouring.

On prostitution: 

Our initial rent negotiations consisted of Adelina instructing me how she wants it and after some fine tuning that’s how she gets it … That’s how I earn fifty percent discount in weekly installments. After two months I still find the paying rent exciting. I like being a male prostitute.

On Tom’s view of Bangkok:

I don’t see a thriving society. Bangkok is way past livability. I would die here in two months. Everything is upside down; filth and crime have become integral parts of this pool of doom. The glamorous high rises are all paid for with drug money.

On Bangkok water taxis:

I would never sit inside a water-taxi. I can picture the scene when that thing hits a tow-boat at full speed. The captain and crew are in a world of their own. Thais change when they control motorized vehicles; no more sabai-sabai, no more graeng jai, no more smile.

On the BBC:

We are the bloody BBC! We are not impressed by police officers that think they’re bleedin’ emperors. We have two dead Brits here, murdered or killed in a popular tourist destination. We are going to find out all there is to know. Period.

On family: 

…the front door opens and my older sister appears. Still living here; too ugly to marry, I guess. I point at her while I shout at my mother. “Why could she stay and I not?”

Despite the Gloomy Gus tone throughout the book, Metaphors of Death has a happy ending – several, actually. Things work out well for LannaLife and Tom’s career.  I would have liked to have seen more of an antagonist character developed for Tom to take on, besides Bangkok and western women, I mean. The drug dealer was a possibility but he vanishes after the first third of the book. More of the well-heeled Jon and the minimalist Tom in the newsroom would have been another enjoyable scenario – like a reverse gender Perry White and Lois Lane from The Daily Planet.

For readers looking for a peculiar yarn, featuring a quirky yet oddly likable protagonist tethered mostly to an accurate Chiang Mai backdrop, Metaphors of Death by former ad man, Dick Holzhaus may be right up your alley.  At 160 pages, it can easily be read on one long flight. Ebook may be found through Spanking Pulp Press, Amazon, Apple and Barnes and Noble.

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For more information about the author go to: whatadick.wordpress.com/

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henry miller (1)

 

Click the picture above to goto an essay: Thoughts on Henry Miller and Surrealism

By Robert Stanley Martin

Henry Miller Quote of the Month:

“I speak in cosmological terms because it seems to me that is the only possible way to think if one is truly alive. I think this way also because it is just the opposite of the way I thought a few years back when I had what is called hopes. Hope is a bad thing. It means that you are not what you want to be. It means that part of you is dead, if not all of you. It means that you entertain illusions.”
Henry Miller – Henry Miller on Writing

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Christopher G. Moore is, simply put, my favorite living essayist. So I was pleased to learn his fourth book of essays, The Age of Dis-Consent is available in Ebook format. The paperback can be ordered at his web site www.cgmoore.com along with information on where to find it on Amazon, Kobo and Smashwords. The book of essays should be available at Thailand bookstores now and no later than February 8th, 2015.

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With endorsements from one of my newly discovered and favorite political analysts, Kong Rithdee whom most will know from his work at the Bangkok Post and Thitinan Pongsudhirak a professor at Chulalongkorn University and prominent political analyst in his own right, readers will find themselves choosing from an array of essays which combine Thai politics and societal issues.  The topics affect every man and woman, regardless of where they might call home, while blending in literary elements, which I particularly enjoy about Moore’s writing style. Individual essays are devoted to George Orwell, Kafka and Henry Miller.

As Kong Rithdee succinctly puts it: “An intelligent deconstruction of the world’s nameless chaos.”

This is the the fourth book of essays penned by Christopher G. Moore, also known for his Vincent Calvino crime series. The Age of Dis-Consent follows up on, The Cultural Detective, Faking it in Bangkok and Fear and Loathing in Bangkok.

The title is well thought out. These are not agreeable times we live in and permissions have been taken away, not granted, worldwide, particularly in the country Christopher G. Moore has called home for decades, Thailand. Moore helps identify not only the known permissions taken away but the ones not thought of by everyone.

I’m going to be a happy idiot
And struggle for the legal tender
Where the ads take aim and lay their claim
To the heart and the soul of the spender
And believe in whatever may lie
In those things that money can buy
Jackson Browne – The Pretender
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If you are one of the happy idiots that my favorite poet, Jackson Browne writes about in his song, The Pretender then the The Age of Dis-Consent is not meant for you. If, on the other hand, you want to make a bit of sense out of a very foggy world, Moore shines an effective fog-light into the distance, which simultaneously helps the reader see the world better, while reflecting on the fog particles as well.
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The book is broken down, conveniently, into seven sections: Thailand in the Age of Dis-Consent; Thai Law Enforcement and Cultural Mindset; Evolution of Violence & the Borderless World; Crime Investigation in a Changing World; Space, Time, Technology and Cultural Gravity; Information and Theory of Mind and; On Writing and Authors.
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Two of my favorite essays in the book are, Personalized Swat Teams for the Filthy Rich, about the growing wealth inequalities in the world. You don’t have to read the 700 page book by Thomas Piketty, Capital in the 21st Century, read Moore’s 11 page essay and you’ll learn plenty. In Violence: The Next Big Leap, Moore writes of the great experiment of domestication, drone warfare, and how the inevitable technological blind spots may pave the way to where it all began.
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Moore saves another favorite for last – Man With A Scarf, an essay about the legacy of artists in general and one fascinating one in particular, Lucian Freud – the grandson of Sigmund Freud and one of the most important painters out of England in the last century. Moore writes:
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Our tragedy is we fail to train ourselves to pay attention to the fine details around us. We gain our identity, our selves, our information from instruments and machines, not from nature or each other. – Christopher G. Moore
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As Moore reminds us, it takes endurance to pay attention. There are many people out there beating a drum with no shortage of followers. Christopher G. Moore deciphers the beats of those drums as well as anyone and makes readers realize the tune is more complicated than mere vibrations. There are more than enough reasons to add The Age of Dis-Consent to your reading list and bookshelf. To steal a line from both Lucian and Christopher found in the final chapter, I had a lovely time reading it and readers who enjoy thought provoking essays will too.
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 For more information regarding the many books written by Christopher G. Moore go to: www.cgmoore.com/books/

 

 

 

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