Lost In Me

When I was 6 or so, my parents' largesse was such that they bought me a complete set of an illustrated science encyclopedia for children. My Korean back then was about as good as my current degenerate command of the language, but it was written for children, so I hungrily read through the dozen or so volumes on biology, chemistry, physics. Over the years, I've forgotten rather completely what was contained in those thick (to my littleboi hands, anyway) dull-yellow books. The one article that I do remember, however, was concerned with a particular type of nuclear power... and I remember it contained a tantalizing phrase that went something like this: "if controlled nuclear fusion is accomplished, it will eliminate all of our energy problems".

So I find it ironic that after all this time, I am actually working this summer as an intern at the largest plasma physics laboratory in the US. Not that working on fusion research has been the foremost thing on my mind since I was 6... in fact, over the past few years at college, I had become too caught up with everyday concerns to think much about things like alternate energy sources. And of course, there are much more significant experiments in plasma and fusion physics going on at even bigger labs in Japan and Europe. But still, it's very exiting to be here at PPPL and learn about projects such as TFTR and NSTX, from the scientists that are heading the experiments. It's refreshing for me to be back in an academic sort of environment after a semester off from college. But more significantly, I think, I have a chance this summer to study something interesting, and to think about something other than myself for a while.

In all fairness, we'd have to point out that the subtlety of the intimidation one sees here varies according to their skin color. Rodney King, anybody? But I guess you'd be more aware of that than I am.

Drew here. No, you're right--I oughtn't be so flippant about these things, but in America the devices of control and intimidation and irresponsibility are much subtler--certainly much subtler than cocksucking, and at the same time much more difficult, because the responsibility is much more collective--who do you blame for a twisted sense of self-esteem? Whom do you court-martial for that?

I like how you always refer to "little asianbois had better get used to sucking white cock" as imperialism, Drew.

I remember when growing up in a seaside town in Korea, we would hear American fighter planes from the Gunsan air base screeching overhead. The American pilots would sometimes amuse themselves by diving down at our apartment complex and pulling up close to the ground. This would create a pressure wave that would cause a terrific boom on the ground, rattling windows and scaring the Korean residents senseless. There was one incident when one of our neighbors was severely injured when a large window fell on top of her while she was standing in her balcony... just because some American fighter pilot was thought it was fun to scare a few helpless Korean residents.

I was very young then, but that's what imperialism means to me. I grew up to read about much crueler abuses inflicted by the American soldiers on the native Korean populace, but what you read doesn't necessarily take on a personal meaning.

Maybe it means something different to you Drew, having grown up in America. Our experiences were different.

Drew here. Par for the course. It's not a bad thing. Those little asianbois had better get used to sucking white cock. Hank Smelly cock.

Dammit, I'm so sorry Drew... this summer there isn't a single Asian on the math camp staff. Ironically, I hear that half the first years are Chinese, and the other half is mostly Indian.

Sigh.

Drew here. Ah, math camp. Lostin was my handpicked successor, after a fashion, and it's odd to think of the extent to which I've left all that behind, as it's such a bastion of het-bujiiness. Still, I miss the innocence and the enthusiasm, and it's sad to think how much ass I'd kick with my new l337 classroom management skillz.

I've been trying to make myself useful by helping to revise this year's version of the counselor manual for math camp. It's amusing to see the manual reflect the failings of the counselors over the past two years, but I guess that was what necessitated the manual in the first place. There is a line about the Ohio State Fair which apparently I am responsible for.

Of course, thinking about the program once again and reading the lists of counselors and students has given me pangs of regret for not going back this summer, despite how much I've suffered there for the past four summers.

I talked to a monosyllabic Hanna today, for the first time since late December. She had surprisingly little to say for herself, though I remember her as being rather chatty last summer. Maybe it's for the best that I'm not returning to math camp, as there are just too many ghosts from the past I have to live with at that place.