Fix Your Asian Lids! (A very SARCASTIC commentary on Asian blepharoplasty surgery...This is NOT a bloody endorsement!)

bleph·a·ro·plas·ty (blěf'ər-ə-plās'tē): n. Plastic surgery of the eyelids.

Are you of Asian descent and sick and tired of those non-existent eyelids? Do you waste hundreds of dollars a year buying the latest designer eyeliners and eyeshadows in hopes of enlarging those invisible eyes? Well, today's your lucky day! As you will see in the testimonial video above, this beautiful young woman has taken the appropriate steps to beautify her once, squinty eyelids. The procedure is called "Asian eyelid surgery" or "Asian blepharoplasty surgery" and it has changed the lives of thousands of Asian people worldwide. Don't miss your opportunity to permanently fix your Asian lids! Remember, you only have one chance to make a lasting first impression!

Vote for Adbusters

Beauty in the Breakdown...

" The Spanish struggle is the fight of reaction against the people, against freedom. How could anybody think for a moment that I could be in agreement with reaction and death? ... In the panel on which I am working, which I shall call Guernica...I clearly express my abhorrence of the military caste which has sunk Spain in an ocean of pain and death." --Pablo Picasso

Man, do I ever wish I had the eye of Mr. Picasso. Only such an artist could capture the sheer chaos and destruction of warfare for those of us so far removed from the madness. While Guernica is Picasso's reaction to the Nazi's aerial raids on Spain's Basque village of the same name, I think the mural is a true testiment to the tragic downfalls of human nature.

But seriously, what do I really know about such pain and suffering? I've led a privileged life in one of the richest nations of the world--the land of the haves. In addition to my unlimited access to food, shelter, water, healthcare, education, malls, Ipods, Wallmarts, and Petceteras, I have never lost my city in aerial attacks, I have never lost a loved one in a roadside bombing, and I have certainly never lost any of my rights so meticulously enshrined in Canada's Charter of Rights and Freedom. Needless to say, I've been lucky...VERY VERY lucky.

However, I realize that on the world stage, I am a complete anomaly. Not only have I been reminded of this by my family, whose roots are deeply entrenched in Third World poverty, I had the opportunity of recently crossing paths with a young Congolese women. For the sake of this post, I will call her Tomi, and her story is one of both tragedy and triumph. While growing up in Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), she endured years of civil warfare, poverty, and the ubiquitous AIDS pandemic which has waged its own war on her entire continent. She has told me about the DRC's rampant occurrences of rape, the aggressive recruitment of child soldiers, and the overall helpless feelings surrounding such a life in turmoil. Even more heartbreaking is the fact that Tomi is only 24 years-old. But despite growing up in this inexplicable reality, her faith has not been shaken. In search of a better life for both herself and her family, Tomi immigrated to Canada two years ago, and eventually landed a career as a homecare support worker. While she had to leave her family behind, Tomi sends a big cut of her paychecks to her parents in order to help them care for their basic needs back in the DRC. If that isn't enough, Tomi is saving up her hard-earned cash in order to send her younger sister to college once she arrives in the country. This women is truly an inspiration.

In the end, while Guernica serves to remind us of the dark, and even cruel depths of the human condition, the Tomis of the world let us know that sometimes, there can be beauty in the breakdown.

Check out these related links for your interest:

http://www.womensenews.org/article.cfm/dyn/aid/1307/context/cover/

http://www.worldpress.org/Africa/772.cfm

http://www.africaresource.com/content/view/306/68/

Blogging = the New CRACK

Since I have an incredibly addictive personality, I will shamelessly admit that blogging has become my new favourite vice! For the last three days (marking the beginning of my blog's conception), I have immersed myself in the blogosphere universe by pimping out my site to an excessive number of blogger networks, downloading ridiculous widgets(ie. statscounter, guestbook, feedburner, blogroll, etc.), rearranging these ridiculous widgets, and obsessively checking my stats so that I can convince myself, that in some small way, it was all worthwhile. That of course, and the fact that I'd probably go into blog withdrawal without that satisfying click of my mouse telling me that yes, people out there in Cyber Space are reading this. In light of me coming to terms with my new blog addiction, I've composed my own list of the Top 5 symptoms of blog free-basing:

5. It is currently 2 am and you are still surfing yet another SEO site, rearranging another widget, or pimping out your site to random strangers on a blogger's network.

4. You've checked your stats tracker more than 5 times today.

3. You really really really have to pee--right now--as we speak!

2. If you've eaten any meal at all, it's been right in front of your only true friend—your computer of course!

1. You haven't left the house at all today--AGAIN--resulting in a very unattractive pixel tan!

No Doubt AbOOt It!

While being the stereoptypically cleaner, friendlier, and in essence, more docile version of the behemoth down South, the existence of a collective "Canadian" identity has often been called into question by, frankly, everyone besides Canadians themselves. Yes, there are many striking similarities between the two nations: both have strong global economies, both house impressive educational institutions, both are pushers of democracy, both are guilty historical colonizers, both span 2 coastlines, both are huge purveyors of sex tourism...You get the point. But there is more to being Canadian. While it may be difficult to put our finger on a single tangible distinction that separates us from them, we KNOW we're not just a bunch of American knock-offs!

Take it from fellow Canuck, Douglas Coupland http://www.coupland.com/. He's a visual artist and writer best-known for his novel, Generation X. As an ode to his Canadian roots, Coupland constructed a massive still-life exhibit in an old pre-fab home in Vancouver, calling it --surprise, surprise--"Canada House." He littered the shrine with the most abstract mementos of Canadiana consisting of stubby beer bottles, Robin Hood flour, cigarette packs (w/the Canadian disclaimer of course), French-side-out cereal boxes, etc. For those of us who missed his art show in Vancouver, Coupland followed-up his made-in-Canada project with two books, Souvenir of Canada (part 1 and 2), as well as a documentary of the same name.

The Souvenir of Canada series really struck a chord with me as I imagine it would for many of my copatriots. Each of the books are a collection of his still-lifes and other Canadian imagery, followed by pithy captions such as "Captaine Crounche," "ookpik" (that fuzzy little owl??), and "Baffin Island," while the film mimics it print counterpart pretty closely. For non-Canadian readers, Coupland's work would probably resemble a very bizarre and extremely confusing version of a coffee table book. In the film, there is even a scene devoted to non-Canuck reactions to the exhibit when Coupland presents the show in the UK. However, for fellow citizens of the Great North, Souvenir of Canada reminds us that there is something very unique, very profound, and very real about truly being Canadian, eh?

Scratch Virtuosa and Virtuoso...

Dude, the future sure looks bright for scratchin' femme fatales! And the lil' guy isn't so bad himself..he he! Let these mini turntable gods blow your mind...

The Flight of the Filipina Phoenix: The Rise of Pinay Feminism

FYI: Learn more about the history of Filipina feminism. Back in March, I wrote a paper on the emergence of Filipina women's movements both in the Philippines and North America. Check out this link:
http://bamboo.blitz.googlepages.com/home

Filipina: What's in a name?

The word, "Filipina," is associated with:
a) mail-order brides
b) sex tourism (ie. White guys seeking "Filipina treasure" overseas)
c) Asian porn industry
d) all of the above

Seriously, I think our name has been dragged through the mud enough. Don't you think? I can get into the political, economic, and cultural ramifications of the Philippines' long colonial history, but that's a whole other can of worms. Basically, as we all know, the above stereotypes are a result of systemic issues regarding power, sexism, and the globalization of popular culture. But as history reveals, a lot of this is old news. Equally problematic is the lack of authentic Filipina representation within popular (Western) culture and academia known to the general public. If you don't believe me, try naming five Filipina Canadian or American actresses, musicians, artists, academics, feminists, politicians, activists, etc., that even the average Joe would recognize. See, it's harder than you think, isn't it? Allow me to further elaborate:

When I was a teenager growing up in Canada, I was really into the local punk rock/ ska scene. Folks, I'm not talking about Simple Plan here either. I followed the hardcore acts of SNFU and DOA, while skankin' away at Planet Smashers's shows. Before I get carried away and start drifting off into nostalgic space, let me get to my point. Do you think there were any other Filipinas running around in those chaotic circle pits? Nope. Hell, there were hardly any people of colour at those shows for that matter. And it wasn't like I lived in small-town-hicksville either. This was like a major urban, Canadian city in which no other Filipinas or Asians enjoyed the likes of punk rock culture. At the time, I felt I had earned a level of street cred for being the lone Filipina enjoying this subculture, but there is something to be said about sharing such experiences with those from your own culture (especially if you happen to be a "visible minority"). I can tell you that if a group of Pinay punks threw together their own garage band consisting of angst-driven lyrics, "Chelsea" hair-dos, and terribly distorted power chords, such cultural visibilitiy may have strengthened my sense of identity during those years. But I guess hindsight is always 20/20, right?