Banning luxury items for personal use (#273, Topic F)

TToday's Washington Post has a front-page story to the effect that the US has set up a list, consisting of some 60 items, that US would not supply to the North Korean leader, Kim Jong Il. The story adds that "The United States reserves the right to take away even more privileges away, should Kim's behavior continue -- or should his tastes change." Since when has US been appointed to be the arbiter of personal tastes of foreigners? The story concludes with this gem: "... there will be no -- repeat, no -- Samuel Adams beer on Kim's table this season." I am a bystander and do not enjoy beer. But, were I otherwise involved, my reaction to the above gem would be: so what? who cares? The story quotes a psychiatrist with a local university that this banning "involves "subtler reasoning", which is "to frustrate the senior circles of cronies." I see it only as a crude display of western arrogance. If the purpose is to ask a nation's leader to set a good example, I have a good one. This country is the world's greatest importer of oil. Frequently, when I am in DC doing research, I find myself stranded on a bus, along, say, Pennsylvania Avenue, with its engine running (meaning wasting fuel). Why? Because a VIP would be passing through momentarily. And when the caravan does come through, it is preceded by some 20 policemen on motorcycles, then upwards of ten limousines, then another 20 policemen on motorcycles. Now, perhaps these VIPs and their senior circles of cronies could set a good example -- of saving oil -- by announcing that, henceforth, the VIPs limousine need be accompanied by only 2 motorcycles, one before and one after. If one were really sacarstic, one might imagine a scenario whereby an Arab King, being a major oil exporter to US, would set up a list on how to save oil, including one limiting the number of vehicles accompanying a VIP caravan. Now, that would be setting a good example.

Stories on China in WSJ 11/29/06 (#272, Topic B)

I was not planning to sign on to my blog until in the afternoon. However, while reading today's Wall Street Journal, I cannot help being impressed by its extensive coverage of China-related stories. In Section A alone (20 pages, including 6 full-page ads), I find the following headlines (shown with interior words capitalized) as well as text references:
1) "Eyeing a Billion Tea Drinkers, Starbuck Pours It On in China"(front page + p A12, complete with a chart, a photo of Beijing, and a sketch)
2) "Foreign Banks in China Receive More Time to Follow New Rules" (p A8)
3) "Public concern that trade is driving a wedge between winners and losers in the U.S. economy, he [Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson] said, is a factor in tension between the U.S. and China" (Story on Paulson's talk in London yesterday; the quote is his response to a question after the talk) (p A11)
4) "Beijing Corruption Probe Rattles Supermarket Chain" (p A16)
5) "Miller Beer to Be Sold in China" (p A16)
6) "China Set to Name Catholic Bishop Without Consent" (p A17)
7) "In China, Anheuser-Busch's profit climbed more than 20% in the past year" (Story on Anheuser-Busch; the headline is: "Brewer Warns of Profit Fall In Internatioanl Operations", p A14)
8) "There are many more places, such as China and the former Eastern Europe, where high returns can be had" in an editorial entitled "The Devaluationists" (p A18)

Cultural superiority and inferiority (#270, Topic A)

Shortly after I returned home, I received a phone call. He introduced himself; he is a fellow member of the Washington Literary Society. There will be a meeting on December 9, when an author will discuss and sign his new book. The author has prepared some slides and a DVD, and plans to show them at the meeting. My caller then said, since I am an expert in slide projection, he requested that I do it at this meeting. Saturdays are days I normally go to the Library of Congress, unless there are events more important than my research project. Since I spoke to WLS at its November meeting, I asked my caller whether he was there. He wasn't, but he heard from others that my PowerPoint presentation went over quite well. Though I know WSL's meeting's time (I am a life member), I nevertheless asked my caller to make sure. On that specific date and time, I have a previous engagement: to attend the quarterly meeting of the Zheng He Society of the Americas. Thus, I declined my caller's request, and gave my reason. He then said: "Zheng He is an important person. He may be compared to Columbus." (All exchanges were in Chinese; I rendered them into English for this entry.) I immediately corrected him: "No, no, no. You should say that Columbus may be compared to Zheng He. Zheng He sets the standard." He said he would remember this; with that, we ended the call. But I was upset. I am invariably upset when a person of Chinese ethnicity fails to acknowledge China's rivaled cultural heritage but, instead, merrily (ignorantly?) misattributes her contribution to other countries. A common encounter with me is on the origin of chess, the proto-chess. Before I could continue by saying that it was a Chinese invention, I was invariably interrupted: "Chess was invented in India, isn't it?" With that self-assured declaration, my enthusiam in continuing the conversation is invariably lost . I would merely say "It was a Chinese invention" (#46, 1/22/06) and proceeded to excuse myself.

Amtrak's service to seniors (#269, Topic D)

Over the years, I have been to NYC's Penn Station probably 20+ times. (At one time, I was a board member of St. John's U's Alumni Association, meeting quarterly in NYC; I have been to US Open Final 3 or 4 times, along with visiting our son from time to time.) But, it always puzzles me that there are no seats for waiting passengers in the concourse level. I now know that this is not so. On our last return trip to DC, we arrived at the Penn Station sufficiently early. Our son took us to passengers' waiting area, which is on one side of the concourse level. While he wanted to help us with putting our luggage on our train, a long wait, we insisted that he go back to work. He did. As I returned to the waiting area after visiting the restroom, I saw a red cap pushing a wheelchair and a luggage cart at the same time. I knew the latter service, but not the former. So, I stopped him to ask; he suggested that I talk to the Customs Service representative at the entrance to the waiting area. On the way in, I made a quick cost-benefit analysis. My wife has knee problems; she cannot walk fast. We have three small carry-on luggages to take care of. The train departs from the lower level, and I don't know where the elevator is. And we don't want to miss the train. Even more important, I don't want my wife to fall. So, whatever this service costs, I would be 'way ahead of the game. As it turned out, both services are free; all I needed to do was to book it, so I did. Looking back, I must pat my own back; I have made a very smart decision. With the holiday rush, our train, which originated in Boston, was 10 minutes behind schedule. More importantly, the track number on which our train was to come in was undetermined. Needless to say, I was anxious. In the meantime, a red cap came to us (by that time, we were seated close to the entrance, reserved for handicapped passengers needing assistance), first to introduce himself (his name is Stanley Simon), then to put my wife in a wheelchair. He also assured me that he would take care of us, and motioned me to calm down. When the time came, Stanley came, loaded our suitcases, and directed me to follow him. Not knowing what I should do, I gave him a $5 trip (probably inadequate) as our token of appreciation. He then negotiated the traffic, got on two different elevators, and placed our luggage onto the train. Excellent service, particularly during this holiday season. Also, while waiting near the entrance, we could see the CSR in action. He was busy, but he was courteous. I said I wanted to write to Amtrak about his excellent service; he tore off a page from a pad, which shows Amtrak's website, wrote his name (Noel Roman), and gave it to me. Upon returning home, I signed onto Amtrak's website (from which I bought our tickets a few days earlier), but there is no space to write comments. I think Amtrak should redesign its webpage to allow passenger comments. In any case, my wife and I received excellent service from the staff, and our train ride home was pleasant. This entry records our Very Satisfied experience.

"Nation's hero"? "War criminal"? (#268, Topic Q)

A week ago, I saw, in Washington Post, a front-page photo of President Bush, at the Presidential Palace in Ho Chi Minh City in Vietnam, for the APEC forum. The background of this photo is a bust of Ho Chi Minh. I thought the photo provides contrast at several levels: (1) optically, Bush in the foreground is well lit while Ho in the background is dark; (2) visually, Bush is smiling while Ho is grim; and (3) geopolitically, US and Vietnam, formerly enemies, are now friends. This contrast is simply too much, even to an uninvolved bystander like myself. To those who were deeply involved, I thought this photo would produce a lot of reactions. Sure enough, in today's WP, there are two letters to the editor commenting on this photo -- WP also saw fit to reproduce that photo in 6"x6" size. One, who lives in Maryland, queries, cryptically, the following: "Where does the Post get the arrogance to disgrace a nation's hero and father with the picture of one of the worst war criminals in modern times?" After reading it several times, I confess I do not know how to interpret this quote. Another one, who lives in Virginia and is much more straight forward, concludes with the following query: "Where were his [Bush's] advisers when he was allowed to be seen in that photo op?" Both are excellent queries. All I need do is to include both, together, as an entry in this blog.

Movie: "Cave of Yellow Dogs" (#267, Topic D)

Doing research at the Library of Congress, I suddenly hit upon an idea on how my project is to be focused when I am ready to write. I liked the idea, but I needed a time out to think about it. So, after lunch, I took off early to see a movie, captioned above. The movie, highly recommended by the movie critic in yesterday's Washington Post, has a week-long exclusive screening downtown, beginning yesterday. The movie's producer/cinematographer is a Mongolian woman, Byambasuren Davaa, whose earlier movie, The Story of the Weeping Camel, won international awards (I missed seeing it). For this movie, the setting is again Mongolia; it features a 5-member sheep-herding family: a mid-30ish father, an early-30ish mother, a 9-ish daughter (she, named Nansalmuu, is the star of this movie; WP's movie critic gave her age as "about 9"; I think she is closer to 8 than to 9), a 6-ish second daughter, and a 2-1/2-ish son. In a pre-title scene, which is actually the final scene of this family-centered story inconvenient to present chronologically, she and her father bury a dog. She asks a question on burial, and the father answers, "Every one dies, but no one is dead." (It is a profound statement; I did not get it at the time, so I jotted it down in the dark.) The movie opens with Nansalmuu returning from town (living in a relative's place) at the end of a school year; their embraces and greetings suggest that this is a close family. When Nansalmuu is sent by her mother to gather dung, which is used as fuel (the first of several family responsibilities to which she is assigned), she finds a dog in a cave and brings it back. The father wants the dog removed, fearing it to be feral for having lived with wolves in caves, but he does not insist, allowing Nansalmuu to keep it for the time being. When Nansalmuu shepherds their family flock to pasture (the second of her responsibilities), she brings the dog with her. Trying to find the dog when it does not respond to command, she neglects the flock, but they are able to return home unattended. With the storm coming and Nansalmuu nowhere in sight, the mother is worried. She leaves the two youngsters to play by themselves while she mounts a horse to find Sanmanmuu. At this point, the thought occurred to me that the movie is about maternal love, because there are so many mother-and-child scenes. (Their father is gone to town, at the crack of dawn, to market sheepskins and buy supplies and toys.) Somehow, a neighbor takes Nansalmuu in during storm, and her mother gathers her after it is over. The two ride on their separate horses and return home. Though the mother is clearly worried and later relieved, there is no reprimand as they ride in silence. While the cinematography is outstanding throughout, this particular scene, showing the two in silhouettes against a peaceful meadow in dusk, exiting slowing toward the right but occupying no more than 1% of the screen, is truly magnificent. It indeed shows maternal love at its very best. I was frankly touched. Later, the family dismantles the camp. On the way to their winter living quarters, Nansalmuu's assignment is to keep an eye on the young brother. She appears to be preoccupied by the dog's absence, as it is left behind and tied to a pole at the campsite. Somehow, the young brother climbs out of his basket before the caravan leaves, and wanders about at the campsite -- alone. When the father discovers the son missing, he rushes back. By then, the movie becomes one on parental love. The movie ends when the family is reunited -- alone on the open road, in the midst of moving to their winter living quarters. Shortly before that final scene, there is a jeep roaring in from the opposite direction, with the loudspeaker blasting: "Please vote. Your vote is important." In the context of this caravan, this interjecture is rather ironic. After the final scene, there are several flashbacks. In one, Nansalmuu is caressing the dog. With it soundly asleep, Nansalmuu laments: "Whenever I want to play with you, you are asleep. You must be lazybones in a previous life." (I jotted this passage down as well, even though, by that time, I understood the message being transmitted.) This is, in my view, the movie's third -- and most important --message. The religion in Mongolia is Buddhism; one of its beliefs is that one's life is continuous: one had a life before the present one begins, and one has another life waiting after the present one ends. The word one in the above sentence must be interpreted with care -- it does not necessarily mean a human being; any living being will do. Thus, Nansalmuu's final words probably mean the following: By becoming a lazy human being in the previous life, he/it is now a dog. The pre-title statement, quoted earlier, makes sense when it is interpreted this way. The message, as I see it: live a life that makes you worthy of being a human being.

Senior travel (#266, Topic D)

As I grow older, I cannot help feeling that travel has become more and more a chore. Still, compared to others, I must say that my physical condition is better than many other seniors. On Monday, my wife and I visited our son in NYC. At NYC's Penn Station, after getting our luggage in an elevator and readying to move to the concourse level, I saw a couple, perhaps in the late 80s or early 90s, about 20 feet away, walking very slowly, probably toward the elevator. The man had a cane, and his forward motion was at best 3" or 4" per step; the woman was in a slightly better physical shape, but she had a hard time taking care of both her traveling companion and a small carry-on case. Seeing this, I stepped out of the elevator, walked toward them, and said: "Go ahead. Let me take care of the suitcase for you." The couple seemed startled, at least reluctant (later, I learned that what I did was not done in NYC), thinking that I was trying to separate their suitcase from them. On the other hand, they saw my wife in the elevator with our luggage. So, they acquiesced to my command and moved toward the elevator, while I managed to put their little suitcase next to them before closing the elevator door. When the elevator door opened at the concourse level, I asked the couple to get out -- ahead of their suitcase. Again, there was incredulity on their faces, but after seeing their suitcase after a 10-second separation, they seemed relieved and walked away. Not a single word was said by either one of them. My wife then got out from the elevator; we then walked toward a predesignated location to meet our son. Next day, I was on a NYC subway going downtown with our son. I was able to find a seat to sit. After a few stops, on came an oldish Chinese-looking lady, carrying a cane. No one seemed to notice her handicap; thus, no one got up to ask her to sit. She was about five body-lengths away from where I was sitting. Since I felt that I was more fit than she, I got up and motioned her to come over to take my seat. She did. After 5 or 6 stops, at Canal Street, she left the train. As she passed me, she said "Thank you" in Chinese. Interestingly, I was able to reclaim my seat. My son said nothing at the time. Later, he said that this was not done on NYC subways. Everyone simply minded one's own business and remained silent and nonchalant. So, as to travel, not only am I physically out of shape, I am also socially out of date.

War game played with cards (#265, Topic G)

Yesterday, our 6-1/2 year-old granddaughter suggested that she and I play a war game, using a deck of playing cards. I did not know the game, so she taught me. It is a 2-player game, each being dealt 26 cards, which are stacked in a pile. The game begins with each player showing his/her top card face-up, the player with the higher-valued card winning that skirmish; these two cards then become a part of the winner's pile for reuse when those in his/her hand are exhausted. The game continues until a player's holding is reduced to zero, and the game is over. Adding an element of unexpected to this "it is just luck" assessment by our astute granddaughter, the rule states that, when the card shown by both players has equal value (suit designations are irrelevant), these two cards are to be placed, side by side, on the table. Each player then places two cards, face down, and shows the next card face up -- the winner of that fourth card then wins the entire 8-card pile, a not-insignificant gain. It is conceivable that the fourth card being used for determining that round, now a battle, may also have equal value. This situationnever came up in our game yesterday, so I do not know how this is resolved. During our game, our granddaughter's holding was indeed reduced to only one card; still, she kept on smiling. For that skirmish, she won; she was also able to increase her holding to several cards until her hand was again reduced to only one card. All the time, she kept smiling. This time, after that skirmish, she won a battle, and then some additional skirmishes. By that time, her holding had increased to about 8 cards. Then we had a war -- we each had shown an Ace; after putting 2 cards face down, her next card was another Ace -- so she won that war as well. (The only way one can gain possession of Aces and Kings is when these cards are placed face down; thus, these face-down plays are odds-equaling devices). By the time I called a time-out a few minutes later (the game had been going on for almost an hour), she had 3 Aces, 3 Kings, and 1 Jack. Her winning chances were substantial. We decided to have a recess to allow us to go downtown to visit our son's new office, take on a Broadway musical (The Lion King), see how ballons for Macy's Thanksgiving Parade are blown up, and have dinner at, supposedly, a NY institution, the Tavern on the Green. By the time we returned our son's home, we were all very tired. So, I conceded the game to our granddaughter. Her mother concurred. It was a good game and a good day.

Pure capitalism v Government intervention - Friedman (#264, Topic B)

A few days ago, Nobel laureate Milton Friedman passed away at age 94. He was said to be a champion of pure capitalsim and disliked government intervention. What happens when the two are in direct conflict? I knew three instances addressing this issue of which Friedman was aware, and he reacted differently. One, the Long-Term Capital Management, a 1980-ish hedge fund in US, that was heavily invested in illiquid foreign bonds. When some of them were defaulted, LTCM financial viability was in jeopardy; this, in turn, caused the Wall Street to be in jitters, necessitating a bailout by the New York Fed. Friedman acquiesced. One reason might be that many of his fellow Nobel laureates in Economics were principals in LTCM; another might be that both LTCM and NYF are US entities. One certainly does not want to say bad words against rescuing one's friends in jeopardy by one's own country. Two, Thai's currency crisis in late 1990s, with US speculators in Thailand's financial market. The latter was no match to the former; it was almost brought down -- in addition, other capital markets in Asia were seriously threatened. Friedman was silent. Conceivably, he was pleased; it was a triumph of pure capitalism. Armed with this success, and emboldened by an absence of any international disapproval, these same speculators moved, a year or so later, to the Hong Kong market, with a view to destabilizing not only her capital market but her political status as well (HK had just been returned to China after 156 years following the loss in the Opium War). A HK government agency responsible for the securities market intervened. With a sizable government treasury behind it, these speculators' indiscriminate selling (producing big short positions) were readily absorbed (squeezing their short positions in the process), causing them substantial losses -- and a much needed lesson. This was written up in a long research paper, published in the China Quarterly (Cambridge U, 2003), by a professor at HK Polytech and an ex-colleague then teaching at an Australian university. The research included a question: Should the HK government have intervened? For those who have lived in HK ten years or longer, a majority answered in the affirmative. For those who have lived in HK less than 10 years, including transients or visitors (Friedman's name was mentioned as a member in the latter group), a majority answered in the negative. Why so? It seems that US government intervention to bail out US entities is okay, while foreign government intervention to bail out her capital market against US capitalists is not okay. In other words, pure capitalism is permitted to play second fiddle to government intevention when US's national interest is at stake; pure capitalism must prevail, without foreign governments' intervention, when their national interest at stake. There is nothing wrong with nationalistic capitalism, if I may introduce a new term, which was what is being preached; but, just don't set a double standard. Every country has to protect her national interests; it is not a US monopoly.

I am technologically challenged (#263, Topic D)

Spending Thanksgiving holidays at our son's place in New York, I tried to turn to CNBC this morning. The TV was already on, to CNN, so all I needed to do was to (1) find whether CNBC has an outlet in NYC. Since the answer is obviously yes, all I needed to do was (2) to find which channel beams it, and (3) to switch to that channel. I could not find the remote, so I tried to do it manually. Not knowing which key to press, I accidentally pressed a key that turned the screen to snow. I did not what to do, so I simply left the TV as it was, and began to read the newspaper. In came our 11-year old grandson, who, along with his parents and his younger sister, was visiting his uncle for the first time. Seeing snow on the screen, he asked: "May I help you?" He found the remote, and, in less than a second, pressed a key that showed the channel lineup. He then pressed another key. And, viola, CNBC was on. After breakfast, I wanted to sign on to my laptop, which I brought me, knowing that our son's place is wireless. I could not do it. This time, our son-in-law, who has a laptop by the same manufacturer (HP), came to my rescue. In no time at all, he got my laptop connected and I was able to do this blog. I cannot help thinking that I am now severely technologically challenged. Such is life.

Mistranslation of 夷as a cause of Opium War (#262, Topic L)

Lydia Liu's book, The Clash of Empires (Harvard U 2004), which I read at the Library of Congress today, greatly disturbed me. Liu is a linguist; in the summer of 1997, just days before Hong Kong was to return to China after 156 years, she was in London doing research on issues related to the Opium War. In her book, after an overview, she devoted the entire Chapter 2 on the use/meaning of the Chinese word 夷 (pronounced as yi) and its translation/mistranslation into English. In China, 夷 refers to places/persons far-away from China proper -- an appropriate English rendition would be foreign (adjective) or foreigner (noun); the word has no derogatory connotation (see, however, my footnote at the end of this post). Indeed, it is so rendered in a Chinese-English dictionary compiled by a British missionary (that dictionary page is reproduced in her book). But, in the hands of British commercial representatives and their English- or Austrian-born translators in the 1830s, whose aim was to be provocative, 夷 was translated as barbarian (adjective and noun). Of course, these commercial representatives' counterparts in Africa (Liu uses the word colonists in her book) used this word routinely to refer to those Africans under their control -- but they were agitated when they used the word to refer to themselves. In any case, the rendition of 夷 as barbarian was self-administered (by staff members of these commercial representatives) and, thus, if they were agitated, self-inflicted. When a new chief commercial representative came from Britain to China, the Chinese governor of Canton, in one of his memorials to the emperor, used the phrase 夷目 to refer to this new foreign chief -- 目 means chief (Liu's book provides but a two-page glossary of key words in Chinese, 目 is not among them; pronounced as mo, this Chinese word is inferred by me); thus, the two words together, a chief from a foreign land. What is wrong with that? But the two translators in his employ (both, incidentally, were men of cloth by training [else they would have no need nor opportunity to gain a knowledge of Chinese]), who forsook their calling for the mighty pound sterling (they were ordered not to wear clothing traditional to men of cloth), rendered the phrase as barbarian eye (目 does have another meaning, which is indeed eye). This new chief was greatly alarmed, because his secret mission, to collect intelligence preparatory to a British invasion, was somehow exposed -- a sheer coincidence and, in any case, again self-administered and self-inflicted. This new chief, said to be a Lord, was obnoxious and unbecoming. Unable to accomplish anything (in a PhD dissertation I read, he violated six Chinese rules for his very first act, an illegal entry into China without proper documentation), he was forced to retreat to Macao in disgrace -- and he died there. His government took offense and claimed that its honor was tarnished -- it was later cited as one of the reasons for starting the Opium War. This is a long story, and this post is already long enough. Let me stop here to add a footnote. In my view, though the word 夷 has no derogatory connotation, it does imply, by virtue of their being removed from China proper, that they have an inferior cultural heritage. There is nothing wrong with that either; it is commonly used by the west when viewing that their culture is superior. The word 夷 appears 9 times in Confucius's Analects. In one instance in my translation (at p 107), I added this note: Yi refers to any area east of the Great Plains of China populated by underdeveloped people.

"Isolationism and protectionism" (#261, Topic F)

This morning, I was awaken by NPR's rebroadcast of President Bush's speech at the National University of Singapore -- he is on the first leg of an 8-day trip to Asia to attend the APEC forum. When I began listening, the President was talking about "we" "we" repeatedly (in reference to the Iraq involvement). When I was the Director of Chinese University of Hong Kong's graduate program in business administration and its Dean of Faculty of Commerce and Social Science, I was also an external examiner for Nanyang University, which later became a part of the NUS. In that capacity, I have probably been in Singapore 6 or 7 times. Later, when the 4th World Xiangqi Championship was held in Singapore in 1995, I was also there. Thus, I think I know a little bit about Singapore, which is generally regarded as one of the best managed countries in the world. About 70% of her population is of Chinese ethnicity; the remainder is composed of people of Indian, Malaysian and European ethnicity. So, when I heard the President's speech, I asked myself: Were I in the audience, how would I react? On USA's plans in Iraq, how would that affect an average Singaporean? As the former secretary of defense famously said: "You break it, you own it." You went to Iraq; you take care of it -- please don't drag us in, don't "we" "we" us. In short, that portion of his speech was, in my view, designed mainly for domestic US consumption. Why export it? The president then talked about USA's flirting with isolationism and protectionism. Over and over again, he talked about "free trade", but it did not seem that he really meant it. In actual deed, Singapore scores well on the free trade front, whereas, in US, one reads two US senators' threatening, off and on, about slapping a 27.5% tax on all items imported from China, and wonders whether this is free trade or protectionism in action. So, why talk about free trade abroad when it is not practiced at home? This evening, over PBS, a panel was analyzing the president's speech, using words such as "hypocritical" to describe it. One panelist stated that, instead of blaming Asians for their high savings rate, do something with Americans' living hand-to-mouth or incurring a heavy load of debt. Tonight, the president leaves for Vietnam, where the APEC forum is held. He was supposed to carry a greeting, from the US Congress, on Vietnam's joining the World Trade Organization. But he will be going there empty-handed.

"Do you remember me?"; Kriegspiel (#260, Topic G, N)

At the end of my presentation last Saturday, on issues related to translating Analects (#254), a young man came to the podium and asked: "Do you remember me?" His face looked familiar, but I could not place him. Not wanting to embarrass me further, he said: "Ten years ago, I interviewed you for articles published in the Washington Chinese News." This reminder brings back many fond memories. One of the interviews he (Gary Cheng) did on me, later published as a full-page article in that paper, was on Kriegspiel, a western-chess-based game that focuses on one's ability to infer rather than on regurgitation -- a game even Bobby Fischer, a world champion in western chess, considered "difficult." (#13, 1/2/06,Topic G) Realizing that there was no English-language book to introduce this fascinating game, after reading a western-chess columnist to this effect, I wrote one, which was published in 1994. (At the time, I was aware of a Kriegspiel end-game book written in English, published in London in the 1950s; later, I learned that there is an introduction to Kriegspiel written in German, published in Geneva in the 1930s.) The publication of my book received attention on both sides of the Atlantic -- one reason might be my bold statement in the book's preface: "In a few years, and certainly by the end of this millennium, a computer, endowed with a gigabyte of memory to store all past games and nanosecond speed to retrieve winning moves from these past games, will be the World Chess Champion." (This proved to be so, when, in 1997, IBM's Deep Blue defeated Gary Kasparov, then the world's western chess champion.) In addition to Gary's interview, there was another full-page article, in English, published in City Paper, as Like Chess, But Not So Easy. One year, our son, daughter, and son-in-law had this article framed and gave it to me as a Christmas gift -- it is now displayed in my study. Come to think of it, I must do justice to this Chinese-language article by framing and hanging it in my study as well. The article in WCN has two photographs, one was on a game of Kriegspiel played in DuPont circle in DC, being videotaped by ABC (and, later, beamed by a local station in Seattle as well, since many games in my Kriegspiel book were played by faculty members at the U of Washington, where I was a full professor). The game was invented by a Fleet Street (London's Wall Street) reporter in 1896. Hoping to mount an international congress to celebrate the game's centenary, in 1995, I went to London to promote it. An editor of Chess came to my hotel to interview me, which, along with an article I wrote on the subject (touting that, at one time, a Cambridge biochemistry professor who was a Nobel laureate as well as the President of British Chess Federation, preferred Kriegspiel to western chess, with a 7-move game resulting in a checkmate to prove it), appeared in that magazine; telephonic interviews were published in Rochade Europa. Lacking a financial backer (a million pounds would take care of it nicely), this centennial tournament, for London in 1996, did not materialize, I regret to say. In my presentation last Saturday, I also added my blog address. Gary later sent me an e-mail saying that, using my blog as a model, he had set up a blog of his own, lqj.blogspot.com. If I may say so, his is much more colorful than mine, with color photographs and vivid prose in Chinese. Yesterday, he sent me another e-mail saying that he had written an article about my talk last Saturday, and that, in addition to posting it in his blog, it will be published in tomorrow's (11/17/06) New World Times 新世界時報, a Chinese-language weekly, of which Gary is, in all likelihood, a contributing editor. My, my, the vitality of the young generation!

Nuclear stress tests (#259, Topic D)

Nuclear, as a word, is very much in the news. If a reader wanders onto this entry on the assumption that it deals with fatigue caused by nuclear tests in the conventional sense, one would be greatly disappointed; I apologize. Two years ago, on the eve of my scheduled visit to Shanghai to partake three events -- the wedding of one of my nephews, the 70th anniversary of the now-defunct high school from which I graduated, and the 6th world reunion of alumni of St. John's University, a school which also no longer exists) -- I was asked to do a stress test on the treadmill. I failed the test, necessitating an angioplasty with stent (my second in 8 years) within days and the cancellation of my trip to China. Last year, after we moved to the retirement community, I decided to change my cardiologist to one close to the Washington Hospital Center, where both my angioplasty operations were performed, and to which I would likely be sent if another operation would be needed in the future. A former classmate of our daughter's, who became a cardiologic surgeon after Yale, is a member in a cardiology partnership having an office in WHC -- she actually visited me, during my stay there two years ago, at least once a day. She gave us a referral, the head of another cardiology partnership practicing in an office building next to WHC. After an initial visit two weeks ago, I went there today to do my nuclear stress tests (so written in the instruction sheet I received earlier) -- in addition to the conventional stress test on a treadmill, there was imaging of my heart and other monitoring activities. On the treadmill, the goal set for me was to reach 120 heart beats per minute without being stressed out. (I learned from one of the technicans that the goal is established by (1) substracting one's age from 220, and (2) multiplying the remainder by .85. In my case, the resulting product is 120.) I was on the treadmill for 7 minutes: stage 1, slow with a small incline, 3 minutes; stage 2, faster with a slightly higher incline, 3 minutes; and stage 3, much faster with a pronounced incline (necessitating my moving as if running), 1 minute. Whether I should have stayed for 3 minutes on stage 3 (meaning that the actual test was cut short), I had no idea. After reviewing my test results, my cardiologist proclaimed me that I have passed. I was told that my heart was/is pumping at 78% efficiency, said to be in the top 1 percentile (probably for my age group, though he did not say so), as the average is 55%. So, I guess I still have a few more years to live, allowing me to finish the book or two I hope to do before I say goodbye to the world.

At the post office (#258, Topic D)

After moving to our retirement community, the thought occurred to me that the Post Office has been extremely thoughtful of our welfare, giving us no less than 3 post offices with a 2-mile radius. One, the closest, is actually in our compound, opening from 10 to 2. Another one, the farthest, about 2-miles away in a shopping center, has regular hours of 8:30 to 5. The third one, in another shopping center just outside of our community, has attractive hours of 10 to 6:30 -- most convenient for us to frequent. My fellow retirees apparently have the same idea. Yesterday, while in a queue to be served, a young lady, two slots behind me, was using her cellular 'phone. She was apparently conversing in French, with not infrequent reference to d'accord. Since that word is very close to the Chinese phrase da ge (big brother, with which my younger sisters addresses me), I could not resist the temptation not to turn around and look at her. Another lady, who was immediately behind me, asked her whether she was conversing in French. I then added my 2-bits' worth, by first saying that I was from China originally. The lady behind me then asked: Where are you from? From the mainland, I answered. Is that Taiwan? she asked again. This conversation attracted the attention of another lady waiting in line just ahead of me. So she said: No, no. Mainland China is as big as USA. The lady behind me then asked me in which city in China I lived. Shanghai, I answered. In Shanghai, they speak Cantonese, she volunteered. It turned out that she was born in Harbin, and had been to Shanghai before she migrated to USA. I knew that there were many so-called White Russians in China in the pre-PRC days, so I asked: Are you of Russian ancestry? To which she answered in the affirmative. And she lives in the same retirement community. Apparently, I was not paying much attention, because, by that time, one of the clerks was ready to take care of business. As I did not step up quickly, she chad to say: Next. I excused myself and proceeded to the counter to conduct my business, which was to mail two packages of books and to buy some stamps. In our retirement community, you meet interesting people as soon as you step out of your apartment. Very lively.

Rent control in 21st century USA? (#257, Topic M)

"Do as I say, don't do what I do" is a saying that applies to USA well. My anonymous friend's comment to yesterday's entry, Admissions Bar Higher for Asians (#256), is a good example. Of course, purists may argue that admissions criteria are subjective and, therefore, is not indicative of what really goes on in this great country. Fair enough. So, let us talk about beans -- beans can be counted objectively, regardless of who is counting. I know, I am, as people are fond of calling members of my profession, a bean counter. Many years ago, a colleague at the time said the following to me: Do you realize that, regardless of the size of a pile of money -- say, a budget in the trillions or millions of trillions -- it can (and, indeed, must) be balanced to the last penny? I never thought of my profession this way before, but it is so true. And it makes me feel good. Well, any way, in yesterday's Washington Post, I read a six-column story, complete with a 4x6 photo, that residents in 11,232 apartments in New York City "fear loss of rent controls in historical apartments." Rent control? Involving more tha 11,000 apartments? "Since 1940s"? In a town said to be the center of capitalism? Yes, yes, yes, and yes. The market-rate for a 3-bedroom apartment in Manhattan, according to the story, is $3,833 on average; a rent-regulated 3-bedroom apartment, $1,514 -- not even 40% of the going rate. What a deal! Now that the 110-building complex has been sold, for $5.4 billion no less, these residents worry that rent would increase -- rent control on these buildings cannot be revoked; they are "protected by the law." What is the justification for this rent-stabilization law? There is no mention, so I don't know. The story did say that "only whites were allowed to move into the complex, until protests desegregated it several years after it opened." So the authorities were practicing segregation as well -- legally, of course. A demographer is quoted as saying: "New York is a cosmpolitan place where many people want to live, but not many people can afford to live." So? Is rent control the answer? I enjoy escagot, but I cannot afford to eat it. What shall I do? Have a law passed to allow me to pay only 40% of the menu price? Well, this is capitalism in action, and ready for export. For domestic consumption, just do what I say, don't do what I do.

"Admissions Bar Higher for Asians" (#256, Topic A)

Yesterday's Wall Street Journal carried a front-page story: "Is Admissions Bar Higher for Asian at Elite Schools?" (it is abbreviated to that shown above as this entry's title). This is a mere rhetorical question, since, from reading the story, the answer is an emphatic YES. A 17-year old, who came from China when he was 4 years old, armed with an almost perfect score -- 2400 (out of 2400) in SAT and 2390 (out of 2400) in SAT2 subject tests in Physics, Chemistry, and Calculus -- applied for admission to 9 schools. One would think that all 9 would welcome him, an apparent genius and a future Nobelist (mark my word), with open arms. Perish the thought. He was rejected by Princeton (#1 in 2006's US News's ranking), Harvard (tied for #2), and even my alma mater Pennsylvania (#4) in the Ivy League, as well as by MIT (#6, the only school affliated with the Ivies for admission purposes) and Stanford (#5) -- the last one is not unexpected, since it is in the Bay area close to San Francisco. Luckily, he was accepted by, and is now a freshman at, Yale (tied for #2). (He was also accepted by Cal Tech (many considered this the most difficult school to get into in the US), Rutgers and Coopers Union.) After reading a research study indicating that for an Asian-American to be admitted to Princeton, he/she "needed to score 50 points higher on the SAT than other applicants to have the same chance of admission", this young man filed a complaint with DOE's Office for Civil Rights, asking the Government to withhold funds to that institution until this inequity is remedied. The matter is now under investigation. The story also cites a 2005 study that Asian-American applicants admitted to U of Michigan had a median score of 1400 in SAT (at that time, before SAT was revamped, the score for SAT ranged from 400 to 1600), 50 points higher than that of "white students", 140 points higher than Hispanics, and 240 points higher than "blacks." The story also gives statistics at UC Berkeley after affirmative action in college admission was banned by California voters -- Asian-Americans constitute 42% of this year's freshman class, up from 34.6% in 1997, the last year before the ban took effect. What a story!

Religious news in Washington Post (#255, Topic R)

Every Saturday, our local paper, Washington Post, devotes 1+ pages to religious news. In yesterday's issue, in space set aside for News in Brief, there are five entries. One, the Vatican will convene an advisory group to "study scientific insights into the evolution of the universe and of life," on which, in 1996, the predecessor to the current pope had said that "Darwin's theory of evolution was 'more than a hypothesis'" -- undoubtedly a major concession, since the earlier view held that it was only a hypothesis. Two, a Missouri Baptist group "has voted to oust 19 churches for donating money and having other ties to more-moderate Baptist groups." So, this is religious toleration in action in USA. Three, a Presbyterian minister was "charged with breaking church law for performing a lesbian marriage." Another example of religious tolerance? Four, a Holiness Church in Kentucky, following a passage in the Gospel of Mark where "Jesus is quoted as telling the apostles that they will be able to 'take up serpents' without being harmed" Well, "A woman has died after being bitten by a snake during a church service." Five, a Florida man, carrying garbage to a trash bin, was ambushed by two men with a rifle, but two copies of New Testaments in his shirt pocket stopped the bullet and saved his life. So, at least one story ends with a happy note.

Issues re translating Confucius's Analects (#254, Topic C)

I was invited to give a talk on issues related to translating Confucius's Analects to members of the Washington Literary Society this afternoon. This was the second time I was asked to give such a talk in recent months. With a younger and more serious audience as well as a longer time period (1:30 - 4), I spent some time extending my PowerPoint presentation. I outlined seven topics for discussion. One, three principles of translation (first advocated by Yen Fu 嚴復, who translated Huxley's Evolution into Chinese in the 19th century); my English renditions of these three principles are fidelity 信， fluency 達， finesse 雅 -- together "3F". Two, a brief history of translating Analects into western languages (beginning with Latin, published in 1687, of which I have a xerox copy); at the marketplace, 30+ English renditions are readily available; I have read 20+. Three, a comparison of selected passages in Analects in 11 other renditions (not including mine); one of several examples cited is 三人行，必有吾師矣 -- with two troublesome words likely to be mistranslated, 5 non-Chinese-native translators had indeed committed 7 errors (out of 10 opportunities); 6 Chinese-native translators fared better, but only slightly: out of 12 opportunities, they committed 7 errors. Four, areas where translators may contribute to a proper understanding of Analects -- Chinese classics, Analects included, are without punctuation marks; they risk being misinterpreted through misplaced punctuation marks. Five, areas where translators may add to a better appreciation through footnotes and rhyming. Six, areas where I am still looking for English words to improve my translation -- an example of words I have resolved is 懷; one I am still searching is 仁 -- I have changed the rendition of 仁 some 20 times before committing one in the volume I published in 1999, but I am still open to suggestions in future revisions. (In a Q&A session, one attendee, an experienced interpreter for high-level visiting delegations, suggested a transliteration, simply as ren, without translating it. My long-held view is that such an approach is an insufficient discharge of a translator's responsibilities (I disapprove of those who did in their renditions); given this comment, whose view I respect, I must reassess my own view.) Seven, areas where western religionists (Jesuits in the 17th centuries and British missionary Legge after the Opium War) deliberately misinterpreted the Chinese custom of 祭 as religion and Chinese reverence to parents 孝 as ancestor worship (and translating the word as filial piety). To correct these deliberate misinterpretations was the main purpose of my engaging in a translation of Analects. Thus, in the Q&A period, I encouraged the attendees to express their views on these issues. (At the beginning of my presentation today, I apologized to the attendees, in advance, by saying that I would have harsh words for western religionists, but these words must not be construed as my disrespect for their religions. After my wife joined the session, at about 2:15, from attending a lunch-time banquet (I had to forgo it for this talk), I mentioned that I respect her religious belief.) At the end, I left my e-mail address and the address to my blog. I have already received one e-mail, and I look forward to others.

審心息爭，寬懷得樂 D. C. Chen, R.I.P. (#253; Topic N)

I was at the Gate of Heaven cemetery this afternoon to say goodbye to D. C. Chen, PhD in Biostatistics from Yale, one of my wife's cousins, about 5 years my senior. I first met D.C. one Saturday afternoon in May more than two decades ago, in a hospital room in Bethesda -- only a few months earlier, I came to Washington for my second tour, joining the World Bank from my professorship at U of Texas; my wife was still in Texas to handle the sale of our house there. For the forthcoming Mother's Day that year, D.C. bought some flowers on behalf of their adopted son, who was about 5 or 6 years old at the time. In a split-second inattention, when crossing a street without looking at oncoming traffic, he was hit by a Metro bus, necessitating the amputation of one of his legs below the knee. When I met him, D.C. was most courteous, calm, spoke with a soft voice, as if nothing had happened. His stay at the hospital, however, gave him a lot of time to think; after his discharge, he decided to leave Christianity (which was deeply entrenched in his hometown in China; he was forced to accept it since infancy without his approval and certainly without enthusiam) for Buddhism. A dramatic effect of this conversion was his decision not to sue the bus driver nor the Metro company, even though the Metro bus driver was more at fault than he. His reasoning: money meant little to him; he had a fulfilling job (a supergrade position at the National Institute of Health; his highly regarded understanding of pain management won him a year-long fellowship to evaluate acupuncture in China); he had a comfortable home and a loving family; conversely, were he to sue and were the bus driver convicted, he would, most likely, be out of a job and his family, though faultless, would suffer nevertheless. He also refused early retirement, arguing that his handicap was not a sufficient reason but a mere rationalization. (He eventually retired at his normal retirement age.) By the same token, he refused to apply for a handicap parking permit (even though, with that permit, he would be able to park at any legal parking space without charge). For several years, D.C. and I met for lunch every Wednesday, the purpose of which was for me to provoke him into discussing his belief (or, perhaps, beliefs), in connection with my years-long research on the influence of western religions on Chinese culture. He took a strong interest in Dao De Jing, a Chinese classic I translated (indeed, afterward, he gave me a copy of this work as translated by another person of Chinese ancestry); he augmented my translation and annotation with comments from his Buddhist understanding, and we discussed them as we met. At the end of one meeting, perhaps my comments were too provocative, he left the impression that they made him uncomfortable and that he would no longer entertain further meetings. And he kept his words. My repeated 'phone calls were to no avail; so were calls by my wife. We last saw him about two years ago. At the burial-side today, I asked another relative (a follower of Buddhist faith) whether D.C. had left any writings. She said that he wrote a lot, and, on the spot, gave me several 5x7 cards with his writings. The following eight words, from one of D.C.'s writings, describe his outlook (as well as his reasoning for not suing) most fittingly: 審心息爭，寬懷得樂。Examining [your] heart avoids argument; broadening [your] embrace produces happiness. D.C., you have set a good example for all of us; we'll always remember with your kind words and outstanding deeds. R.I.P.

Democracy: A Cruel Sport (#252; Topic P)

One of my wife's nieces, an attorney, after working in an administrative capacity in the Dallas court system for some 10 years, was appointed last year to be a judge, to fill the remainder of a vacancy. Judgeships in Dallas (and, in MD as well [#240]) are elective offices. Thus, this year, to retain her judgeship, she had to campaign. I frankly do not see why judgeship positions and such are elective posts, but that is beside the point. Campaigning means spending time away from legal matters; campaigning also means recruiting volunteers to help out. Clearly, her parents are automatically involved -- hosting get-togethers in various communities for voters to meet their daughter. (We had attended similar functions, in our retirement community here, hosted by parents of candidates running for various positions; we could appreciate the time and effort needed in mounting them, while our only outlay was time -- to be there to enjoy the delicious homemade cheesecakes and such.) I do not know how many other volunteers my wife's niece had, but I do know that her siblings and their spouses all pitched in -- a younger brother, a Harvard MBA running a mutual fund, probably handled finance; another younger brother, an architect, probably helped out with office work; his wife, though expecting, nevertheless handed out flyers from door to door while rolling a baby stroller; her younger sister, a successful pediatrician practicing in Los Angeles, flew in to provide both financial and logistical support. My wife and I are too old to be of any help; we merely wrote a modest check as an expression of our moral support. All in all, donations exceeded $100,000 -- likely to be a substantial portion of a judge's annual salary. Yesterday morning, my wife called her brother to find out how her niece fared; bad news. Later yesterday, she received an e-mail from her sister-in-law, delivering even worse news. It seems that there were 42 judges running on the Republican ticket in Dallas -- and all 42 lost. According to my wife's sister-in-law, this complete wipeout never happened before. Is this rational? Difficult to say. But, I might cite a personal experience. In Maryland, not only judges, but Register of Wills is an elective office. The day before election, at our local library, I saw a flyer bearing his name; it seems that he was severely handicapped. This piece of information, along with a statement that he had been in this capacity for 20+ years, was enough for me to cast a vote for him. Is this rational? Certainly it was not based on a careful study of this candidate's performance. But, again, I have a strong reservation why some positions, administrative in content, must be subjected to vote confirmation, thereby wasting a lot of financial and human resources. My own conclusion: democracy (which, in US, means casting a vote every other year) is a cruel sport.

"All Slander All the Time" (#251, Topic P)

This morning, the day after Election Day 2006, there was an interesting op-ed piece in today's Wall Street Journal, written by a former reporter, now a partner in a venture-capital firm; the piece's title is shown above. He first cited a Gallup Poll, where, among votes in states with closely contested Senate races, "The vast majority described [political advertising] as either 'somewhat negative,' 'very negative,' or 'extremely negative'." Extrapolating, he expressed the view that "2006 will be the first year that negative political advertising expenditures reached the $1 billion mark." He lamented that "in America, the major parties don't ever think in broad, national terms. They're all tactics and no strategy. They don't advertise themselves at all. Instead, they spend the hundreds of millions they raise microtargeting supposedly single-issue voters and bombarding them with negative messages about the opposite party's alleged disdain for those concerns." He concluded by saying that "The alternative [to a new political party], after all, is a new record every two years -- $2 billion of negative advertising, then $4 billion, then $8 billion. All slander all the time eventually collapses of its own foul weight." Is this -- democracy in USA in the 21st century as descried in this piece -- to be exported to other countries?

China Garden Musical Gala (#250, Topic D)

Sunday, 11/05/06, Friends of China Garden mounted a musical gala at the Strathmore Music Hall, (1) promoting this 4-year-old ready-to-be-built project, a 12-acre China Garden 中國園 in the US National Aboretum in DC, and (2) raising funds from the Chinese-American community for 8% of the total budget of $100 million. The remaining 92% have been underwritten by both the US government (responsible for providing land and related infrastructure and for site maintenance) and the Chinese government (responsible for designing and constructing dozens of buildings and for decorating their interiors with Chinese cultural artifacts). The gala featured traditional Chinese musical instruments, such as Zheng 箏 pipa 琵琶 hujin 胡琴, and played classical Chinese compositions. In the finale, a chorus performance, there were no less than 120+ peformers on the stage -- 50+ female voices, 30+ male voices, a soprano, a tenor, a 30-member Chinese-instrument orchestra, a conductor, augmented by three cellos, a bass, and a piano. It was both visually impressive and musically pleasing; above all, it was an artistic success. With the gala exactly two days before the midterm election, and with the venue held in Montgomery County Maryland, the governor (represented by his wife), Democratic candidates for senate and for house, and Montgomery county executive candidate, all appeared on stage to wish the project success. Maryland's secretary of state also read a citation honoring the Friends of China Garden 中國園之友. When the project was first publicly announced by the Undersecretary of Agriculture in Research, 任築山, Joseph J. Jen, to a gathering of the Chinese-American community in 2003, he wanted to sign up 100 donors, each pledging $10,000, so as to raise $1 million to give the project a fast start (thereby telescoping the unavoidable delays of a year or two in the US goverment budget-approval process). Sensing the hesitation among the 100 or so gathered, I decided to get the ball rolling by taking the initiative; I was pleased to see that 5 or 6 followed my lead before the end of that gathering; soon thereafter, the goal of having 100 donors was met. Needless to say, as evidenced by this gala, Friends of China Garden are still soliciting funds. Indeed, while at the Musicl Hall, the principal of a Chinese-language school, sitting just behind me, introduced me to a student in her school, who had initiated a dollar-a-name project, soliciting donations mainly from students, though participation by adults was equally welcome. My wife and I managed to meet our quota by giving this young man a dollar bill, 2 quarters, and 5 dimes. At the gala, the chairman of Friends of China Garden, 陳壯飛 Jeffrey Chen, announced that he had secured three pledes of $10,000 apiece that very evening. The Garden, designed by renowned Chinese architect 貝聿銘 I.M. Pei, will be the largest Chinese Garden in North America when it is completed in about 2 years' time.

Election day 2006 (#249, Topic P)

So, the first Tuesday in November of even-numbered years, election day, today, finally came. I woke up, at 6:15, to NPR's rebroadcast of last night's speeches by the Campaigner-in-Chief (#244), warning his audience, over and over again, that a Democratic majority means higher taxes, less national security, etc. Earlier, I read that the CiC invariably goes to venues where his views are fully endorsed ("preaching to the choir"?), and NPR's rebroadcast confirmed this loud and clear -- after each of the CiC's utterances, there was a round of loud yells. Varying from my morning routine, I decided to have a quick breakfast and, with my wife, go to our new polling place (we moved to our retirement community in April 2005) early; we were there a few minutes before 7:00, when the polling place was scheduled to open. To my great surprise, there was already a long line, perhaps 150+, waiting for the door to open. I was equally surprised that the entire process -- from the waiting line to a waiting station (where seating was provided, a very thoughtful idea), to a two-person station where my identity was verified and a voting card issued, to a long corridor where I was directed by a poll worker to one of the several rooms where voting machines were stationed, to being escorted to one of these machines by an election judge and being briefed on how to use it before leaving me alone -- took barely 15 minutes. The machine was no different from the ones I was accustomed a decade or so ago (I think our governor did not want electronic voting machines in 2006), so it offered no problem. Since I have also read the sample ballot earlier, I was able to cast my vote reasonably fast -- I was done by 7:25. On the way out toward the parking place, there were still people handing out flyers and such. A young man, well dressed without a coat (the temperature was in the low 50s), but with a sticker on his jacket bearing a candidate's name, was among them. His face was vaguely familiar, so I approached him and said, pointing to the candidate's name on his jacket: "I attended one of his meetings." To my surprise, he said "I am he." So, I said: "I voted for you," and he responded with a "Thank you" and shook my hand. He was a candidate for Maryland's attorney general -- one of the top positions being contested today. With his being here in person, early in the morning, it does suggest that our retirement community has clout. Indeed, yesterday, Al Gore, presidential candidate representing the Democratic party in 2000 (in which he had more popular votes than the declared winner, the current CiC), was at a rally in our retirement community, on behalf of his party's nominee for the U.S. Senate (whom I also voted today). This will be a busy evening for the media, particularly as polls begin to close beginning at 7 EST (with Indiana and Kentucky, whose polls close at 6 CST [=7 EST], leading the pack). We'll see whether Democrats could pick up 15 seats in the House and 6 seats in the Senate to wrestle control from the Republicans.

Tai Chi (#248, Topic I)

Tai Chi Quan, frequently truncated to Tai Chi, is a Chinese invention several centuries ago. To younger people in their teens and 20s, TC is fast moving and atheletic; when equipped with swords, now known as Tai Chi Jian , it is beautiful to watch, though it could be used in a duel no less fatal than gun duels in the west (witness the award-winning movie: Crouching dragon and taming tigers). When adapted for the mid-aged or older, TC movements may be slowed down as to be graceful and leisurely. I was first exposed to TC in 1991, when I was a consultant for the Asian Development Bank stationed in Shanghai -- I walked to the park to learn TC every morning at 6. Unfortunately, the teacher, with a group of students of different ages, made no concession to oldsters like myself (I was 63 then). So, I could not keep up with the class and, as a consequence, did not learn much; if anything, my back pain, to which TC is said to offer an effective remedy, became more pronounced. My next exposure to TC was in 1998, when a TC Institute held an open house in Rockville MD; out of curiosity, I went. There, I asked Master Tang, the Institute's director, about my back pain. His answer: "you did not do TC correctly." In September of that year (the beginning of a new academic year), I enrolled in a class which Master Tang personally taught. (The Institute, which Master Tang first set up about a decade ago or so with 15 students, had mushroomed into a dozen branches teaching thousands of adults how to do TC at no charge.) Master Tang's teaching method was/is undoubted well adapted to senior citizens, since I was able to follow (despite my gradual loss in memory). Indeed, some time ago, I no longer felt any back pain (caused by a major car accident). A few days ago, I was at a cardiologist's office for my initial visit. Upon knowing my age (78), he said: "You don't look that old." Indeed, I feel quite good and fit. A real good benefit from TC, particularly for older people, is to improve one's balance. (This has been documented through many academic studies.) An incident this morning prompted me to do this entry. In taking my daily walk, I invariably take the fire stairs, which, needless to say, are built with cement. This morning, for reasons unclear, on my way down, I somehow almost missed a step -- had I missed, I would have tumbled down about a dozen steps and be hurt, perhaps rather badly. However, doing TC for 8 or so years, I was able to be more aware of a basic but critical TC movement known as single weight. Single weight, viewed positively, means that one's body weight must always be carried by one foot (except at the very beginning or at the very end, when one is readying to begin or proceeding to end); one's body weight shifts from one foot to the other as movement progresses. Viewed defensively, single weight means that, before one shifts weight from one foot to the other, make sure that the footing one is to land is solid/level -- losing balance, viewed this way, is the result of landing on a footing one thinks is solid/level but is in fact not so. Landing on a footing that is not solid nor level leads one to lose balance; losing balance results in a fall. This morning, just before I was shifting my weight from my right foot to my left foot, I suddenly realized that the footing on which my left foot was to land was further removed from me than I visualized -- had I shifted my weight then and there, I would be deceived by my illusion and would lose my balance, resulting in tumbling down. This realization took barely a fraction of a second -- a nanosecond would be an exaggeration; a millisecond would be about right -- with this realization, I withheld shifting my weight to my left foot (that is, freezing my weight on my right foot in suspense) while instintively grasping the railbar next to the stairs. With my forwaard momentum arrested, nothing happened. I was able to walk down as if nothing happened. I took the walk and, in time, do this entry.

Champaign 2006: $100m for 1 proposition (#247, Topic M)

Commenting on my post on campaign spending (#231), my anonymous friend was surprised (and judging from his tone, somewhat upset) that the total would be $2.3 billion for this mid-term election. While I have no intention of further upsetting my good anonymous friend, I regret to say that that figure, although barely a week old, is out-of-date. Last evening, I heard over my car radio that the total had just jumped by more than 10%, to $2.6 billion -- and the campaign season still has 2-3 days to go. Today, I read, in a post in an investment-focused website, that, in California, oil companies have invested more than $100 million to defeat a proposition (#87), aimed at the state's getting 6% "extraction fee" (royalty) from oil companies. Up to now, as I read the post, California receives nothing, while some states get up to 15% (Texas gets 6.4%). If this proposition passes, California is scheduled to receive $4 billion a year (out of oil companies' take of $70 billion). So, the stake is high and $100 million is a small sum to pay for such a big payoff. On the other hand, while I can see the value of "investing" in campaigns that have direct cost-benefit consequences, I fail to see the rationale of investing in congreesional-election campaigns -- the cost would be higher than $100 million, but where is the payoff?

"Stay the course" vs 以不變應萬變 (#246, Topic K)

The feature article in the current (11/6/06) Election Preview issue of TIME begins with the sentence: "'Stay the course' is a time-honored rallying cry in politics" -- it is (or, more accurately, has been) one of the President's favorite utterances. The article then trivializes it by saying that "it has always been more a slogan than a strategy, meant to show the steadfastness of the person who shouts it rather than what he actually intends to do" -- and then ridicules it by saying that "when staying the course turns into 'constantly changing tactics to meet the situation on the ground.' That is how President Bush is now describing the battle plan in Iraq." I first heard the President's description (using the word in TIME) when he held a long press conference (and duly broadcast over CNBC) a few days earlier in the Rose Garden; at that time, I thought it odd that the President had to offer a clarification of his favorite saying -- to me, it was self-evident and, thus, unnecessary. As to the article in TIME, I only had time to read the first few sentences (quoted above) before I was called by the dental hygenist for my turn of teeth cleaning. As it turned out, lying on a dentist table with nothing to do was a perfect occasion for me to ponder this question: Why the popular reaction to the President's clarification differs so drastically from mine? Before long, it dawned on me. The functional equivalent to "stay the course", in Chinese, is 以不變應萬變, which may be rendered as "Use no-change to combat myriad changes". In China, with her sophisticated understanding of nature, 不變 (no-change) never denotes unchanging -- nothing under the sun is unchanging: one gets older with every passing nanosecond; one's position in the universe differs with every fractional rotation of the earth. This philosophy is best expressed by Li Er 李耳 (c571-c477 BCE) in his 5262-word essay, Dao De Jing 道德經: 獨立而不改，周行而不殆 (25.1) (It stands by itself, unwavingly; it is in motion, unendingly.) (my translation, published in 2001) By contrast, the west, particularly USA, is too heavily influenced by biblical sayings, for which no-change does indeed mean unchanging -- unchanging with respect to time, unchanging with respect to space. Thus, when a westerner says "stay the course", he is, using a word that has just gained currency, stuck with it -- any minor deviation therefrom is viewed, using another word precious to biblical followers, as being unfaithful. By contrast, when a person of Chinese ancestry says 以不變應萬變, it is understood that while one's policy is unwavering, one's tactics must necessarily adapt in the face of ever changing environment. This is exactly what the President saw fit to clarify. Q.E.D.

Candle in a poem in English (#245, Topic L)

A couple of days ago, I wrote about a couplet in Chinese that uses candle as a metaphor for tears shed in a farewell among friends (#238). A reader in Toronto, who has bought several copies of my books as well as signing onto the internet to read my blogs, sent me the following. It is beautifully done, with deep feelings expressed not in two lines (as in the original in Chinese 蠟燭有心還惜別，替人垂淚到天明), but in four lines, rhymed -- and many times better than my rendition:
A simple wax candle has a sympathetic heart,
That saddens and cries when friends depart.
It covers gloomy darkness gently with light,
and sheds quiet tear-drops through the night.
With this publication, I wish to thank my Toronto friend, who is a fellow septagearian and only five years my junior. I also wish to take this opportunity to request others readers interested in contributing to my blog to send in their work using the space labeled comments (this is the space at the end of each entry). These comments may be either signed or unsigned (anonymous). Though the blog's software allows me to review comments before publication, all comments I have received so far are so well written that they are published without the slightest hesitation on my part.

Commander-in-chief in Chinese chess and in western chess (#244, Topic G)

Proto-chess was invented in China (#243). The focus of Xiangqi (Chinese chess) is the commander-in-chief (CiC); when he is attacked, he must find ways to neutralize this attack -- (1) by marshalling his troopd to counter the attack (check) and, in time, to mount a counterattack on his counterpart, or (2) by moving to a different location to temporize the assault. When he cannot do either, he surrenders (resigns) and the game is over. The focus of western chess is the same, but there are three major differences. One, in Xiangqi, the CiC must remain in a 3x3 square (the headquarters), symbolizing that, in commanding his troops, he stands confidently at the center. In western chess, the CiC is moved to the side of the board the soonest (by the 7th or so move), symbolizing, at least to me, that he seeks safety at the expense of his troops. Two, in Xiangqi, when the CiC can neither defend himself nor move to safety within the 3x3 square, he surrenders. In western chess, the game is declared a draw when the CiC, even though hopelessly behind, being surrounded, but not being checked, cannot find a legal move for himself or for any of his pieces (stalemate)-- this rule bears no resemblance to real-life war which western chess is said to simulate (in Xiangqi, a stalemate is a win for the opponent). Three, in Xiangqi, the two CiC cannot stand face-to-face on the same open file (which may be up to 8 spaces apart vertically) -- known as telepotency, a word I coined when I wrote the first of, so far, five volumes on Xiangqi. In western chess, the two CiC must not stand next to each other; they must be separated by 1 space either vertically or horizontally. In USA, the President is also the CiC. The western chess seems to simulate USA's CiC well -- moving about the entire board/country unconstrained. As I write this, the President/CiC was on the road for the 6th consecutive day (today: Montana), campaigning for various Republican candidates for election/reelection to the congress or governorship (today: Montana's senatorship). Is that the proper role for a CiC? Yesterday's Washington Post and today's CNBC gave a cute answer: they spell the CiC not as Commander-in-chief, but as Campaigner-in-chief -- a sitting president is invariably an attractive draw; when he visits, it is the occasion to host cocktails and dinners, with his followers shelling out $5,000 or $10,000 for the privilege of shaking his hand and listening to his talk. The other day, I wrote about how much time is needed to earn $10,000 (#238). Perhaps I should also write about how fast one may spend $10,000 -- a 2-hour dinner meeting with the president.

Chess is a Chinese invention (#243, Topic I)

The 10/29/06 issue of Book World, a Sunday Washington Post supplement, has a book review of The Immortal Game: A History of Chess. Regrettably, the book touts the shop-worn view that chess was invented in India. In my 383-page award-winning book, The Genealogy of Chess, published in 1998, I had shown that proto-chess was a Chinese invention (in 203 BCE, by the all-winning commander-in-chief Han Xin 韓信 during the period of Chu-Han Conflict 楚漢相爭). Through trial-and-error, the proto-chess became Xiangqi 象棋(Chinese chess); Xiangqi as we know it today was last modified in 820 when two cannons 砲 were added. The proto-chess was disseminated westward to Persia and India (in that order) to become Shatranj and Chaturanga, respectively; and eastward to Korea and Japan, to become Changgi 將棋 and Shogi 將棋, respectively. My book was based on 18-months' research at the Library of Congress; upon publication, it earned the Book of the Year 1998 honor from the book-review editor of GAMES magazine. Just a short note to register my displeasure that my book was not even mentioned in the above-mentioned book.

Candle in Chinese poems (#242, Topic C)

On the first Wednesday evening of each month, the headmistress of a Chinese-language school offers a 2-hour seminar for townspeople as a public service, free of charge. This evening featured the work of a Tang dynasty (618-907) administrator-cum-poet, 杜牧 Tu Mu (705-755). Tu wrote 2,000+ poems during his life, but decided to burn them all prior to his death. Luckily, his family members were able to save 200+; of these 16 were discussed this evening (along with a long ode he wrote when he was 23, which made him famous). Each poem Tu wrote has 4 lines of 7 words each; the last word in lines 1, 2, and 4 are rhymed. I was particularly struck by the last 2 lines of a poem, written when he was in his 30s, on the occasion of saying goodbye to an old friend (Tu was preparing to leave the capital to be the city administrator in another province), using candle, on which I wrote recently (#237), as a metaphor. The 2 lines read as follows:蠟燭有心還惜別，替人垂淚到天明。(The candle, in its heart, regrets this pending separation; it sheds tears on humans' behalf 'till the following morning.) Simple, dignified, but expressing deep feelings nevertheless.