qui tacet consentire videtur

After a mad eleventh-hour cramming session, I sat for my final exam in statistics. I think the worst thing to possibly think during an examination is “Please let the curve be awesome”, next to “How many points do I need to not get a D?” (As it turned out the curve was pretty good, and I got an A) I staggered out of the stats department back to my room, picked up my suitcase, and made my way to JFK. My summer of adventure and discovery had just begun, but it would not be without obstacles.

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(Eden Center, Arlington VA - a.k.a. last remaining territory of the old South Vietnam republic) America needs more culinary diversity.

How do you define diversity? There is no logical end to diversity, since there are an infinite number of criteria by which people differ, but some definitions are more important than others in achieving some degree of proportional representation of whichever constituencies are defined. Some definitions are broadly accepted as bad or problematic definitions: ethnicity. Some definitions are difficult to employ in practice: means-tested income. Some definitions depend on the winds of fashion and political correctness: gender, sexual orientation. Some definitions are somehow very unpopular: political orientation. Some definitions are absurd in one aspect but are perfectly acceptable in another. I focus on one particular definition, which seems legitimate: diversity of worldview.

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Although my op-ed has finally been published in the Straits Times review section as a joint submission, I can’t help but feel a little upset that they rejected my original piece but took this one when the only differences are that 1) it is less critical of the state, 2) more conversational and most importantly, 3) has a nominated member of parliament’s name in front - same ideas, same structure, his prose. That, and I like my punchy policy-wonk prose better, even though his is probably more accessible.

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This weekend I will be attending the Advanced Topics in Liberty conference in DC on ‘Economics and a Free People‘, sponsored by IHS and the Liberty Fund. Instead of flying (all travel expenses are refunded) I have chosen to try taking Amtrak instead, since airport security takes up about the same amount of time and I can pretend I’m on the Chattanooga Choo Choo. It’ll be nice to meet up with the friends I met over the summer - some are in DC and others are also at the conference - and talk about economic philosophy, which is somewhat excluded from the curriculum in my school. The conference schedule seems very similar to the conservative one in Indianapolis I went to earlier this year… I wonder if liberal student conferences are also scheduled this way. Must get invited to one of those sometime.

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Yes, let this be a sign/
Let this road be mine/
Let it lead me to my past/
And bring me home/ At last
— ‘Journey to the Past’, Anastasia OST

After much anxiety and distress, my summer plans have finally become more or less confirmed.

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While I was at the conference, I shared a room with a Phd student from Germany and fellow at the Russell Kirk center. Though we didn’t get to talk much over the two days, he noticed that I was a little depressed after the second day of the conference and asked why. Although it was more of an ongoing melancholy (and one that won’t cease for a while) rather than something to do with the conference, I said that I regretted not having gotten to know everyone while I was here. He replied that if I had actually met everyone who came, I would probably have regretted not having interacted with them in depth. I like to think that I emphasized quality over quantity, and made real connections with a few people, though it is unlikely that our paths will ever cross again.

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I somehow woke up in time for breakfast and the opening ceremony, which was fortunate since the first lecture by George Nash was actually very interesting. He explained the Burkean Traditionalism that Russell Kirk espoused, as opposed to the other factions within the conservative movement (like the classical liberal aka libertarian school that I am more knowledgeable about), which was especially fortunate since I brought my laptop along and incorporated the material into my homework essay, which happens to be about, among other things, Edmund Burke. I skipped the rest of the lectures (except for an interesting lunchtime one on ‘crunchy conservatism’) as they were a lot more technical/esoteric in order to finish my essay, which I did sitting in the piano lounge outside where some of the student participants were either chatting or sleeping. Unfortunately that was all the homework I could finish.

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The day started poorly when Supershuttle called to say that the bus would be coming 40 minutes early. I got up, changed, and waited downstairs but nobody called. When I called Supershuttle, they said the bus had already came and left, and they had called my cell phone but I didn’t pick up. I am starting to hate Cingular more and more. However, just before I ran out to get a cab to Laguardia, I checked my e-mail and: I am in the Koch summer fellows program! Which confirms that I will be interning in DC over the summer, since funding is now assured. More about this next time.

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ALADDIN: Well, it’s not much, (he pulls back the curtain and exposes the palace) but it’s got a great view. Palace looks pretty amazing, huh?
JASMINE: Oh, it’s wonderful.
ALADDIN: I wonder what it would be like to live there, to have servants and valets…
JASMINE: Oh, sure. People who tell you where to go and how to dress.
ALADDIN: It’s better than here. Always scraping for food and ducking the guards.
JASMINE: You’re not free to make your own choices.
ALADDIN: Sometimes you feel so–
JASMINE: You’re just–
BOTH: (in unison) –trapped.

It seems to me that the answer is obvious, yet I keep getting asked: What do I like about her?

The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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Nothing is more precious than freedom.

Yesterday I went to see the NYC premiere of Journey from the Fall with one of my surrogate-mothers on campus and other members of the Vietnamese Students Association, and after the film ended I knew that the long list of film festival awards was well justified. The film tells the story of one family’s journey from the fall of Saigon in 1975. When we were in the ImaginAsian cinema I was looking at the table of posters outside the theatre when I noticed several boxes of tissues available - It’s not possible to watch the film without crying a river. Perhaps seeing it was therapeutic for me since I’ve been holding back tears for a while now. Here are some thoughts on the film.

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