When I was ten or eleven, part of my father's job at BP (then still Sohio) was to entertain clients and executives from joint ventures, one of which was Japanese. I'd come home from school to find ten Japanese guys in business suits playing badminton in the back yard. The suits looked identical and so did the men to my eyes at the time, having no familiarity with Orientals. My mother had no idea what to feed them so she'd buy huge bags of cooked shrimp for them. I liked that last part.
American liberals and uni educated Europeans love to travel the world and they celebrate other cultures both abroad and at home. The only culture they try to destroy is the one the Jews give them virtue for hating: their own culture.
Thanks Linh, for taking me out of my humdrum Sacramento neighborhood with the I support Ukraine yard signs and rush to get the next booster. I'm depressed. What thinking person isn't?
FYI, "pot-au-feu" is the right spelling. Since you recently and rightfully corrected my Vietnamese, we are now even.
Litteraly meaning "pot on the fire" because it was a pot left hanging in the large fireplaces, with vegetable broth in it, and you would just throw in meat and potatoes when needed.
Eastern clothing modified to suit locals: on my first trip to Northern India I was astonished to see older men wearing clothes that had obviously been adopted by the colonial British as night wear. From the striped pajamas to the dressing gowns made of heavy felted woolen cloth with shiny cording as trim and as a belt, and slippers which I find it hard to describe without a pencil and paper, the entire outfit had been lifted from India. The older Indian men I saw wore the outfit as ordinary and quite practical daytime clothing. When I was in the Punjab....the start of a joke line for a lot of the British who were forced to retire somewhere else, either back to the Old Country or for instance, the West Coast of Canada after spending much of their lives in India.
Yesterday I walked by a cosmetic stall in the Tokyo subway system that sold placenta creme. So yes, some of us end up in the recycling and/or supplement industry -as parts of the ingredients! 🍳🥹
Haha, good one! I bought a jar of rancid Nutella once in Shanghai. I practically shit myself inside out and then flopped back like a pop it nub. Don't mess with food.
Some in the West find it fun to laugh at Asians who wear clothing emblazoned with often nonsensical English phrases, and I must admit that this sometimes results in something pretty amusing. But what apparently escapes notice is the similar practice on this side of the Great Waters, where foreign script (Chinese characters seem to be a particular favorite) not only appears on apparel, but is sometimes even tattooed onto the skin. I can recall a few that were pretty silly, to put it mildly, and whose meaning was clearly unknown to the wearers.
I remembered Doãn Quốc Sỹ wrote this while discussing Nguyễn Văn Vĩnh's article: With their unique smile, the Vietnamese has created an egalitarian in which they are capable of accepting and reconcile all dissension.
When I was ten or eleven, part of my father's job at BP (then still Sohio) was to entertain clients and executives from joint ventures, one of which was Japanese. I'd come home from school to find ten Japanese guys in business suits playing badminton in the back yard. The suits looked identical and so did the men to my eyes at the time, having no familiarity with Orientals. My mother had no idea what to feed them so she'd buy huge bags of cooked shrimp for them. I liked that last part.
American liberals and uni educated Europeans love to travel the world and they celebrate other cultures both abroad and at home. The only culture they try to destroy is the one the Jews give them virtue for hating: their own culture.
Thanks Linh, for taking me out of my humdrum Sacramento neighborhood with the I support Ukraine yard signs and rush to get the next booster. I'm depressed. What thinking person isn't?
Thanks Linh,
FYI, "pot-au-feu" is the right spelling. Since you recently and rightfully corrected my Vietnamese, we are now even.
Litteraly meaning "pot on the fire" because it was a pot left hanging in the large fireplaces, with vegetable broth in it, and you would just throw in meat and potatoes when needed.
Thanks, man, I just got rid of the r.--Linh
Eastern clothing modified to suit locals: on my first trip to Northern India I was astonished to see older men wearing clothes that had obviously been adopted by the colonial British as night wear. From the striped pajamas to the dressing gowns made of heavy felted woolen cloth with shiny cording as trim and as a belt, and slippers which I find it hard to describe without a pencil and paper, the entire outfit had been lifted from India. The older Indian men I saw wore the outfit as ordinary and quite practical daytime clothing. When I was in the Punjab....the start of a joke line for a lot of the British who were forced to retire somewhere else, either back to the Old Country or for instance, the West Coast of Canada after spending much of their lives in India.
Yesterday I walked by a cosmetic stall in the Tokyo subway system that sold placenta creme. So yes, some of us end up in the recycling and/or supplement industry -as parts of the ingredients! 🍳🥹
Hi Thorsten, if you ground me up, I'd make an excellent laxative!--Linh
Haha, good one! I bought a jar of rancid Nutella once in Shanghai. I practically shit myself inside out and then flopped back like a pop it nub. Don't mess with food.
I sure would enjoy a society that laughs at everything right about now. But then, what to do about the Karens ?
All I can say is, I hope they find the cat. Those "missing cat" flyers work, by the way. Well, at least they worked for me once.
Some in the West find it fun to laugh at Asians who wear clothing emblazoned with often nonsensical English phrases, and I must admit that this sometimes results in something pretty amusing. But what apparently escapes notice is the similar practice on this side of the Great Waters, where foreign script (Chinese characters seem to be a particular favorite) not only appears on apparel, but is sometimes even tattooed onto the skin. I can recall a few that were pretty silly, to put it mildly, and whose meaning was clearly unknown to the wearers.
I remembered Doãn Quốc Sỹ wrote this while discussing Nguyễn Văn Vĩnh's article: With their unique smile, the Vietnamese has created an egalitarian in which they are capable of accepting and reconcile all dissension.