Across the Bounding Main

One may wonder why it has been a while since this blog received a fresh injection of life. [editor's note: the author here is exceptionally precise in his use of the indefinite pronoun "one", as there is little hope that such wondering as is mentioned extends farther than his own dear mother.] The truth is the good ship TPot has been at port for some time while its captain has gone in search of new and improved merchandise to bring aboard. In this search, the good (?) captain has been forced to reevaluate the general tenor of his targeted cargo. "When the citizens of foreign lands," he thought, "first glimpse the billowing sails of my old bark, what thought should spring to mind? What hope should fill the breast? What expectation should flood the soul?" After such reflection, he decided that perhaps new cargo should be added to the old.

As the briefest perusals of previous freight lists will show, the TPot has heretofore devoted its holds to strict and accurate reporting of the facts of life in Taiwan. It has sought to shun stereotypes and bring to port only the truest forms of culture. Thus, the dry, journalistic flavor of its past imports. However, the captain has come to realize that stereotypes are not all bad things. They exist, in fact, because there is some truth behind them. More than that, they are in some way necessary things, providing a needed level of cultural categorization and added support for the traditions on which our habits and customs hang. Over the past few weeks, then, the captain has flung himself into the expansive embrace of Asian stereotypes.

Notice that it is to Asian stereotypes that the captain has devoted himself and not just to Taiwanese stereotypes. This is because he is cognizant of the fact that the astute Western mind that will be the consumer of his goods understands that there is no appreciable difference between the various Asian cultures. This Western mind is so broad and hearty that it is hardly fazed at all by the miracle that the worlds largest continent in both area and population has maintained cultural uniformity throughout the millennia of its acknowledged existence. Thus, to understand Korea is to understand Mongolia; to live in Japan is to live in Vietnam; to speak Taiwanese is to speak Nepali. It is quite astounding, really, for the person living in any Asian country to realize that he or she is actually living in about fifty countries at one time.

The captain found that living the stereotypical life was rather time consuming. There was much to be done. He must, for example, become proficient in mathematics and certain scientific pursuits. More than this, he had to persuade his parents to be overbearing and demanding, pushing him in his scholastic endeavors. Added to this, he was forced to master the gaming world. He had to learn to design video games of his own and spend hours honing his skills on the offerings of other game designers. All of this, as difficult as it may have been, was only the beginning.

He realized that he would not be satisfied with only contemporary Asian stereotypes. No, stereotypes never really die, and even the most aged ones must be given their due. Being in Asia, it is precisely the elder statesmen among the stereotypes that must be given the most honor. Thus, he sought to integrate the old with the new. He started by growing a ponytail and drastically receding his hairline. He then donned the Asian farmer's straw hat and shuffled off to build a giant wall to keep invaders away from his highly secret uranium enrichment facility. He worked thirty-one hours a day before returning home to his yurt. He then changed into his kimono, clipped his bonsai trees, and meditated for a few hours while standing in various impossible positions. After this he sat around and shuffled his copious amounts of U.S. dollars and bonds, trying to decide which ones to dispose of. He savored the cat he roasted for dinner, which he washed down with yak's milk. The next morning he rose early to read sagacious proverbs and write haikus. He then practiced five different disciplines of martial arts and spent time catching flies with chopsticks. He climbed Mt. Everest. He now patiently awaits the time when he can commit hara-kiri.

The captain has also taken up calligraphy, which has meant regularly riding his elephant down to the stationary store, where he has discovered a little known aspect of Asian culture. When Asian people are in need of inspiration and a good, hearty cheering up, they evidently turn to notebooks. This is the only explanation for all the magnificent sayings that are found on notebooks in Asia. The cover of nearly every notebook is devoted to an attempt to inspire, instruct, or encourage. It quite moving to compare the downtrodden, tearful visages that enter a stationary store with the glowing, uplifted ones that leave. They are a boon to native English speakers as well, if only in the fact they tend to sport the finest examples of that language. The captain has found that he can hardly leave the store without five or six new notebooks bought simply for their English. It seems that most of these notebooks come from Korea (not that Korea is really different from any other country in Asia), and he now believes that Korea must be a paradise of truly divine English usage. The TPot has delivered a few loads of notebook sayings, but the captain feels that a few more would be encouraging.

To begin simply, one notebook has emblazoned, quite appropriately, across the top "Notebook." Under this title it provides this extra information in brackets [That begins and ends on a delightful]. What is truly inspiring about this notebook is the intriguing mixture of mystery and hope. On the one hand, the dangling "delightful" leaves us hanging. On the other hand, we are comforted by the hope that the notebook will be filled with a delightful something instead of depressing, crude expressions.

Another notebook presents us with both an inspirational saying and inspirational spelling. It states, "Not the fruit of experience, but pxperience itself, is the end." This same notebook contains a Chinese character which it translates as "risibility". The brilliance of this notebook is that it is risible enough to laugh at itself.

The final offering comes from a notebook entitled "Change for better day". It gives us this uplifting morsel:

To enjoy from the sad situation is a must for living. To lighten the weight, with smile, a growth and a way of treating you good. To fight or not, to stand or not, no criteria to follow up. To be free from the mentally suffering, the tactics decides it's result. May the season bring you the very things that will make your dreams come true. Wish you a blessed year and a joyful new year. So many affairs to life, therefore, learning how to make the worst of better is a compulsory lesson. Let happiness and wishes tune up to your tomorrows. Run the new records for those fresh days.

The captain puts the one line in bold to let you know that this is his wish for you--that you learn to make the worst of better. This is exactly what he has been trying to do in his pursuit of stereotypes, and he is not sure but that he has succeeded famously. He hopes that every time his good ship slips into your port in this upcoming year of the rabbit, you will make the worst of it. Just use your expansive Western mind.