This Is What Democracy Looks Like?

A lot of people have been asking me about the current situation in Bangkok as news from the city is making headlines around the world. The protestors who occupied the commercial center of Bangkok for numerous weeks have been removed, but flare ups continue not only there but in cities such as Khon Kaen and Udon Thani in Northeast Thailand. Like in any civil upheaval there are a number of sides to this conflict which is a complex one stretching across an intricate political landscape that when coupled with a long standing monarchy maybe one of the most unique and complex in current times.

Things in Phitsanulok have been unaffected and day to day life continues as normal. Although this afternoon there was visibly more interest in the happenings as TVs in shops and restaurants were crowded with on lookers.

Staying up to date can be at times difficult do to as breaking stories must be translated from Thai to English but the NY Times and BBC are providing good coverage devoid of the rumors, conspiracies and sensationalism that is rife in Thai news.

Three stories of particular interest are the BBC's How Did Thailand Come To This? which looks at the road leading up to the current events. A look at the King's role and future in Thailand from the NY Times, Thailand's King Sees His Influence Fading and finally a reporter's personal look at a fascinating city gone terribly awry, In Bangkok, Gunfire Outside a Reporter's Window also from the NY Times.

Hot, Damn Hot

That is the simplest answer to the question, "How is Thailand?" The map below will provide you with an illustration of just what I mean. Oppressive daunting hide-inside-until-the-sun-goes-down kind of heat, hovering between 38-41 C (100-105 F) for the past few days.

Map taken from The Bangkok Post

And I'm Back...Again

After summer break I'm back in Phitsanulok and updates are coming soon. Continued political unrest, Vietnamese wise-guys, new classes, new students, new semester, a fledging English Program and a fresh set of wheels, "This is it, don'e get scared now!"

A Gathering Storm

Thailand braces for mass protests

Thailand has mobilised about 40,000 security personnel ahead of mass rallies by "red shirt" opposition protesters over the coming days.

The demonstrators plan to meet around the country before converging on the capital, Bangkok, on Sunday.

They are mainly supporters of former Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra, who was ousted in a military coup in 2006.

They say they plan to rally until Prime Minister Abhisit Vejjajiva calls new elections.

The government has promised a tough reaction if the protests set to begin on Friday turn violent.

“ If there is a siege, we would immediately take steps to disperse the crowds ”
Suthep Thaugsuban Deputy Prime Minister

The Internal Security Act has been invoked, giving the military the power to impose curfews and restrict numbers at gatherings.

Checkpoints have been set up on the roads into Bangkok.

The red shirt movement, led by the United Front for Democracy against Dictatorship (UDD), has promised a huge but peaceful demonstration.

Smaller rallies, meetings and "political schools" have been planned for various provinces before convoys of vehicles carry protesters to the capital.

The red shirts' last major protests, in April last year, turned violent, with two deaths and dozens of people injured.

"If there is a siege, we would no longer consider it a peaceful protest and immediately take steps to disperse the crowds," Deputy Prime Minister Suthep Thaugsuban said.

The protest leaders say the government is playing up the threat of violence to justify a possible crackdown.

The red shirts oppose the 2006 military coup that toppled Thaksin Shinawatra.

They say Prime Minister Abhisit came to power illegitimately with the backing of the military and the Bangkok-based elites.

Mr Thaksin's power base was in the rural north. He is now living in self-imposed exile in Dubai to avoid a jail term on a corruption conviction.

Last month the Supreme Court ruled that just over half of the assets ($1.4bn; £910m) belonging to Mr Thaksin or his family which were frozen since the coup, should be seized.

'Cause It's Friday...

100 degree forecast, political unrest all just in time for summer vacation. Not exactly June, July and August but certainly a perk of the teaching job. Heading to Indonesia and Vietnam, see you all in a few.

The Destroyer

I'm not a massive Manny Pacquiao fan, in fact I think his refusal to take a blood test and fight Floyd Mayweather, Jr. was selfish, granted it was certainly as big a part of Mayweather's mental game as it was to ensure no doping had taken place. I posted this article because it tells the story of a great athlete who has helped to revive sport that many saw as far past it's prime, a dinosaur unable to adapt to a new generation of fan's desires. Pacquiao is not just famous in the Philippines, he is an icon across Southeast Asia, a true point of pride for the entire region.

From a writing standpoint it is articles like these that reaffirm my personal belief as to why GQ Magazine continues to be a standard bearer in print journalism. Seven well crafted pages from a writer covering sports. Not some quickly thrown together cliche riddled blurb by another unoriginal sportswriter. Great sports pieces come from true writers covering sports, not sportswriters. If the distinction isn't clear read David Foster Wallace's Roger Federer as a Religious Experience or Hunter S. Thompson 's The Kentucky Derby is Decadent and Deprived in comparison to the regurgitated mindless ramblings turned out weekly by Rick Reilly or Bill Simmons.

Click Here to Check It Out

IT's Always Sunny in Phitsanulok

Just keeping the face warm

Trouble in Paradise

Politics in Thailand posses a particular muddled and challenging affair. Red shirts and yellow shirts, coups and constitution rewrites all with a copious helping of ever present monarchy to make things especially interesting. This weekend a million person protest held by the UDD is scheduled to take place in Bangkok with smaller protest happening across the country. Below is an article from BBC article describing what is happening and why. The BBC is possibly the best source of information regarding the current political state of the country. The issues are disappointingly of little importance to US news organizations and publications in country often suffer from less than subtle influence from the government.

Thailand invokes emergency laws

The Thai government has announced that it will invoke the Internal Security Act from 11-23 March, in Bangkok and seven surrounding provinces.

The move comes ahead of a planned march by "red shirt" opposition protesters.

They are mainly supporters of the former prime minister, Thaksin Shinawatra, who was ousted in a military coup in 2006.

They say they plan to rally until the current coalition government calls new elections.

The ISA puts the military in charge, with powers to impose curfews, restrict numbers at gatherings and man check points if they deem such measures necessary.

Thai Prime Minister Abhisit Vejjajiva has cancelled a planned trip to Australia.

Fears and loathing

The last time the act was invoked was during the meeting of the regional grouping Asean held in Thailand last October - after an earlier attempt to host Asean in April was derailed by red shirt protests.

The police had failed to act against them as they took over the conference centre and the army asserted control to keep Mr Abhisit's government in power.

This time, the red shirt movement, led by the United Front for Democracy against Dictatorship (UDD), has promised a huge but peaceful demonstration.

Smaller rallies, meetings and "political schools" are being held in various provinces before convoys of vehicles are expected to carry protesters to the capital by the weekend.

Thailand's Finance Minister Korn Chatikavanij has said the government would be "as patient as all governments need be".

"There is a very small minority who is trying to cause instability through, frankly speaking, potentially violent acts," he said.

The government also fully intended to "use all means within its powers, within the laws of the country, to make sure that the property and safety of its citizens are protected".

He admitted that political reconciliation in the country remained a distant dream.

"In fact, the situation in the next few years might indicate that in fact political differences have actually widened over the past year," Mr Korn said.

Last month the Supreme Court ruled that just over half of the assets belonging to Mr Thaksin or his family which were frozen since the coup, should be seized.

In Unrelated News

Letting the best salesmen in entertainment handle this one. A review of Good Luck Studio by Friday Mile is up over at URB, click here to check it out.

Wayne's World

Locking up the martian memorial post. Buddhist holiday and a mixed up class schedule have me a bit behind, hopefully catching up this week. In the meantime, check this story about one of music's most creative minds.

Welcome to the Main Event

Much like in the US boxing in Thailand has seen better days. In the US, with the exception of a few solid showdowns every year boxing has been pushed aside by the likes of UFC and in general MMA's explosion of popularity. With an all but forgotten about heavy weight division, fans are flocking to the octagon for their blood sport fill. Muay Thai boxing, Thailand's national sport, has suffered a similar fate at the hands of professional wrestling and the growth of interest in foreign sports such as English primer league soccer.

Bastardized and overpriced versions of so called authentic fights can be found at almost every tourist destination. But if you hang around with the some of the older crowd long enough, they will inevitably begin to tell you about the glory days. When Thai boxing wasn't about brute strength and when the boxers needed to master a half dozen techniques that all melded into one beautifully destructive and brutal fighting form. They drop the names of the greats like your grandfather references Marciano, Ali and Frazier, with the sort of by gone nostalgia that horse racing garners where words like "beautiful" don't seem out of place.

My landlord loves to tell me about how great things used to be, how he now rarely watches matches on TV and hasn't been to one in years. I asked him once if he had ever fought, he laughed and popped out a good portion of his lower teeth. His jaw was on the receiving end of an elbow that sent him to the canvas cold.

Below, video proof on just how punishing these little guys can be.

Ong-Bak style

It's Always Sunny in Phitsanulok

Nothing but shades scandal edition.

7-11 Helping the Youth

Gorging on the spicy hot dogs, foot long hot dogs, cheese dogs, hot dog salad (yes, this exists) or the bit size hot dog snacks, a throw back to the Al Borland Lil' Smokies time, is one way 7-11 can aid you in changing your body. (The predominance of hot dogs has laid to rest my query into how an Asian man could win the Nathan's Hot Dog eating championship on July 4th for so many years when the product being consumed seemed so American.) The other way this convenience store can help is one of the more ingenious things I have seen my students do.

Upon returning from Christmas break I noticed a number of male students with gauge piercing in their ears. These are the piercings that use plugs to stretch the size of the piercing and are worn by people who are generally labeled as freaks and punks by soccer moms across America who hypocritically take no issue with stuffing silicone bags under their tits or voluntarily breaking their noses or partaking in insane crash diets all of which are far more extreme forms of body modification yet are some how deemed completely acceptable.

I soon realized that 7-11 was, unknowingly, providing the kids with the materials needed for amateur foray into the piercing scene. The small skewers used to eat meatballs and cut up hot dogs was the first size used to stretch after the initial piercing. The skewer is the first step, followed by a gradual increase using the 4 to 5 sizes of straws the 7-11 in Thailand stock until one of the following desired sizes is met. The standard drinking straw given out with every beverage you purchase, literally every beverage, including beer. Then the slightly larger Slurpee straw, the one with the the little spoon at the end for getting the last bits off the bottom, followed larger straws for sucking down the drinks that come with some type of jelly floating in them, these are immensely popular. I think the whole drink and eat, two for one feel has something to do with it.

Originally I was told to enforce the dress code and make students remove their earrings. But after a few days I gave up mostly because I was pretty impressed by the MacGyver thriftiness of the whole thing. The encountered a problem and solved it with a creative solution that fit all of their needs, inexpensive, highly accessible and replaceable, perfect for when their pissed off parents inevitably catch them and toss it out.

'Cause It's Friday...

That is all until Monday, awful internet connections have keep things to a minimum this week. Trying to finish off the semester strong in the next two. Sending you into the weekend with a Motown time capsule. Take it Stevie.

In Unrelated News

Letting Bushwick Bill of Geto Boys fame handle the hype this time and don't let his size fool you. I have a new review of Sun People Remixed by Nickodemus and a slew of other DJs up at over at URB. Click here to check it out.

Frequent Flyer

A fascinating hump day time waster that looks into the truly bizarre world of those obsessed with accumulating frequent flyer miles. 1 million miles, 10 million miles, all of this makes NYC to Bangkok look like a quick morning commute.

If you are looking for the Thailand connection or are just in a rush, skip forward to minute 15 for a scheme that would make Michael, Peter and Samir proud. "Yeah, they did it in Superman III."

Frequent Flyer from Gabriel Leigh on Vimeo.

It's Always Sunny in Phitsanulok

Cruising altitude

'Cause It's Friday...

That's all until Monday. Sending you into the weekend with a video 3 for 1, U.S.A. Olympic Team style.

Asked some students and teachers about the start of the Olympics today in an informal poll. They all looked at me quizzically and then insisted that I was talking about Beijing. I guess when it rarely drops below 80 degrees getting excited about the Winter Olympics is difficult. Thailand does have one winter athlete, cross country skier Prawat Nagvajara who is currently a professor of engineering at Drexel University in Pennsylvania and competed in both the 2002 and 2006 Olympics. Unfortunately he is not scheduled to participate in this year's games.

Ice skating sensation Johnny Weir:

"I hope you've brought your silver polish, MacElroy, 'cause that was gold."

The Boss-American Land:



Finally, Al Michaels making the most memorable call in sport's history:

Bonus: Little kid doing Herb Brooks pre-game speech. This may have just become next week's lesson plan:

The Case of the Insect Armageddon

I don't like the soup part of Cup Noodles. I guess it could all be considered soup, but the liquid part, the broth to me more specific, I don't care for. For one it is always extremely hot and I gulp down in an overzealous fit of hunger, every time searing my mouth leaving most food flavorless and the inside of my mouth a sand paper texture for the next few days. I also don't like the mess. Really I'm to blame for the mess, but the broth being present gives the opportunity for mess, puts the element in place. Removing this element ensures a much less sloppy dining experience, devoid of slurping and spillage. I like dry, simple food.

I usually dump the broth down a nearby sink but outside the 7-11 there is no drain. So I walk around to the side of the building, past a picnic area and dispose of the steaming, sodium bath in the grass near a tree. I turn and spot my boss and a student at a table and join them.

I click together the collapsible fork from 7-11, an invention that saves maybe 3 inches of space. It's a fork for eating microwavable noodles at a gas station. I don't plan on trekking up Everest with it, so the entire thing seems like gross overkill.

I'm preparing to shovel down my first bite when I'm stopped.

"That is the second thing you killed today," says my boss.

"Um, what?" I have trouble using the phrase "Excuse me?" here or back home. It sounds uppity when it comes off my tongue, jarring and unfamiliar.

"First you kill the ants, now you kill the tree," she says.

I glance at the tree. It looks fine. Green, full of leaves, lush. Thriving even. I look back at my boss, than back at the tree expecting to see it crashing to the ground, erupting into flames or shriveling into the Earth. It stays unchanged. Green, full of leaves, lush.

"You poured boiling water on the tree. Now it dies," she appears to be serious.

I'm not quite sure what to say. I rack my brain trying to think if I have ever heard of trees being harmed by water temperature. No? Yes? No, not a chance? Right? They can withstand below freezing temps and sweltering summers. Maybe Thai trees are different? Maybe I did just kill one? My momentary panic subsides as I refocus on how ridiculous this statement is. No fucking way I just fell a solid tree with less than a cup of not quite boiling, not quite water liquid.

"I think the tree will be fine. I honestly don't think there is any way that is going to harm it," realizing the absurdity of the whole thing, I'm now trying not to laugh.

"You killed the ants on the bus," her come back is quick.

Now that the tree homicide seems have been accepted as fictitious the attention has shifted to the ants.

She turns to the student next to her and rapid fire, machine gun Thai erupts. She holds her hands in the air, mashing her thumbs down as if playing with an invisible video game remote. She grits her teeth and lets out a strenuous "Arggh." I realize she is doing an impression of me. I realize it's fairly accurate. I realize I'm guilty of the ant murders, many of them, maybe hundreds.

Buddhism, particularly the Theravada school, makes up almost 95% of the religious population in Thailand. The predominance means that while living in Thailand Buddhism is almost inescapable. Monks in saffron robes, gilded temples, smoldering incense. It touches all senses daily and heavily influences the lives of Thai people.

The first of the five precepts of Buddhism states that one should abstain from killing. This extends far beyond human life down to the smallest of creatures. Insects, even ants, do not think like humans but can suffer in the same manner. There is also the issue of rebirth, which in an oversimplified explanation, means that animals could be our past relatives.

A few hours before this confrontation, I was sitting on a bus for a school trip. We had just re-boarded after one of the frequent stops and I found that an open packet of teriyaki sauce from some chips I had purchased had been infested with ants. The sauce comes, conveniently, with every bag of these particular chips and adds a little extra flavor to a food whose real down fall is its Styrofoam, teeth squeaking texture.

Upon seeing this my reaction was made up two parts.

First, Rod Tidwell. "I got ants Jerry!" What I believe to be a perfectly executed movie quote goes, understandably, unnoticed by all of my Thai students and fellow teachers.

Second, kill. I pick up the packet and begin to crush ants. I'm suddenly shot back in time. I'm an adolescent youth torching bugs with a magnifying glass at Adam Miley's house, a BB gun wielding pre-teen trying to pick off birds in the woods of Maine.

They are trapped inside the clear plastic, no way out. I'm playing God and I'm not a merciful one. Take no prisoners. They can run, they will simply die tired.

I have no idea my seat at the front of the bus and the height at which I'm holding the tiny bag has made this Formicidae slaughter visible to many people behind me including my boss. I can only imagine the look of sheer terror on her face, her attempts to shield the students' eyes from my blood lust as I smash the life out of what very well could be their favorite auntie or uncle.

Back at the table I try to defend my actions. I tell her the ants were biting me (lie), that it was a variable war zone (wild exaggeration), none of it helps.

"Ant killer." The dubious title instantly becomes a favorite of the students, who are almost all now doing impressions of me. Many more than I thought saw the incident.

It's Always Sunny in Phitsanulok

U.S.A. Olympic edition.

Nakhon Sawan

Home to some of the friendliest people in Thailand, Midwestern friendly.

Wat Kiri Wong

'Cause It's Friday...

That's all from a slow week here in Phitsanulok. Sending you into the weekend with The Boss.

Senior Slump

Things in the 65000 have been crawling along this week. The seniors I teach have effectively mailed it in. Almost all have been accepted to university and showing up is a formality at this point. Of the 40 students in my class 4 showed up on time Wednesday, a few other trickled in over the course of the period, some arriving just as I walked out the door. Do I blame them? Not at all, I did the exact same thing.

I dragged my way through Susan Fetter's habitually depressing calculus class that centered as much around math as it did her painfully awkward tales of romantic failure that lead to her current state as a loveless virgin rabbit keeper with a hobby of sewing clothes from their fur and Dean Pappas' physics hour laden with his political rants, conspiracy theories and anti-government tirades.

School was just a place to find out what was happening the following night or weekend, see who was collecting money for an overpriced beer run and talk about how much better next year was going to be.

I imagine my students are doing much of the same and now I'm the teacher they can't stand.

The free time here has had some positives. For one I came across these photos of the Erawan Waterfalls, which I visited a few months ago, made even more beautiful with the addition of Tom Selleck and some delicious looking sandwiches. Sandwiches probably rank in my top 5 most missed things from home, Tom Selleck not so much.

'Cause It's Friday...

That's all until Monday. Sending you into the weekend with J.D. Salinger: The Man in The Glass House from the June 1997 issue of Esquire Magazine detailing the reclusive life of the late author.

A jam from Jay-Z and Mr. Hudson as well:

In Unrelated News

I can't afford to add a hype man like Flav to the crew just yet so I'm handling the promotions myself. I have a new review of The Scanners second album Submarine up at URB Magazine. Click here to check it out.

The Previews are the Best Part

Spike Jonze: I'm Here

It's Always Sunny in Phitsanulok

Better put your shades on.

WC

Before moving to Thailand I lived my life naively under the impression that there existed exactly two types of household toilets in the world. I say household here because I'm quite aware of Porta-Potties, Spot-A-Pots, camping latrines and all of those kinds of foul commodes but dragging them into this would simply confuse things, so household it is. These were the standard toilet and the Japanese super toilet.

The standard toilet is just that, standard. Chances are you have one in your house right now. It's got a seat, water, it flushes. It's a blue collar work horse, no frills. Shows up to do a job and does it countless times a day, the occasional clog can be chalked up to a day off. We all need one of those once and a while. There are some variations on the standard. Some people, probably your grandparents, might opt for a color shade that deviates from the standard white. Powder blue, light pink, apparently Easter colors translate nicely into shitters. Another favorite amongst the older set is the padded seat which I fully endorse for seasonal use in areas of the world where the temperature drops below freezing in the fall/winter months. In hotter climates you run the risk of your ass sticking to the seat like your back on a leather couch, wildly uncomfortable. A few other deviations are the wooden seat, gives a rustic feel a kind of a Thearouen back to nature sense and finally, the clear lid with sea shells and starfish encased inside, a beach house regular.

Actually, upon looking at this list in its entirety, it seems that pretty much all of these elements of flair are a hit exclusively with individuals over the age of 70.

The Japanese super toilet is something I have never had the pleasure of seeing or using in person. It has always been one of those things that only exists on the pages of Guinness Book or in the halls of Ripley's Believe It or Not! or one of those "Look at what the nutty Japanese are up to now!" local news segments that run on slow days, a segment that has been taken over in the past years by the "What the fuck is happening on this Japanese game show?" viral video and the "Seriously man, the Japanese are into some fucked up shit. It might be illegal to watch this," not quite viral but certainly viewed by a large swath of the male population ages 18-25 who have Internet access video.

From what I have seen the Japanese super toilet does everything short of serving you up fresh sashimi. Heated automatic lifting seat, massage features, wireless control panels, liquid crystal displays, George Jetson would feel right at home using one and if you're a lonely friendless sap you could probably have a conversation with it, it borders on intelligent life.

Here in Thailand however, the range of household toilets varies greatly, no better place than to start than the bottom.

The Squat Toilet: Just one evolutionary step above a hole in the ground, the squat toilet is basically a porcelain sink that has been set into the bathroom floor. For Westeners this thing is a nightmare. You open the door to a stall, see this and your heart immediately sinks. You realize you're probably going to have to tough it out. Hang on for the miserable ride until a more suitable option comes your direction. In an emergency situation a highly audible, "Fuck!" is very understandable followed by a chaotic undressing. The Costanza disrobing approach to using the squat is necessary unless you want your pants and shirt tails to get messy (Note: This always has been and will continue to be one of the top 2 greatest fears in my life). Prolonged use of this type of toilet leaves your knees feeling like you are a 350 pound lineman in need of dual braces or Jason Varitek around game 150 of the baseball season.

The Seat Toilet (No seat, no flush): Anyone who has blindly backed into a toilet only to find the seat up knows what a horrible mistake it is. One second your ready to get down to business, cozying in, the next you're being swallowed up by cold porcelain and your bare pale ass is practically touching the water as you let out shrieks of terror. For men it's got to be one of the most emasculating moments of all time. The seat is seen as extra unwanted baggage here and the only positive I can muster from the lack of it is that you avoid the surprisingly loud and always cringe inducing slam produced when the seat drops untouched onto the bowl reverberating against the tile surfaces of the bathroom.

The Seat Toilet (Seat, no flush): This is what I'm working with in my apartment. It's almost a complete toilet just conspicuously missing the tank and little chrome flusher. The logical question here is: How do you flush? Well next to my toilet is what appears to be a trash can filled with water (in places such as bus stations this trash can is replaced by a large square cement holding tank, a fitting swimming pool for a leprechaun), floating atop the water is a blue bowl. The bowl is one of those great deep bowls you could fit a close to half a box of cereal in, perfect for watching the early kick-off games on Sunday while you nosh away in your boxers. A shame that its fate is to spend all of eternity scooping my flush water, which is exactly what it does. Scoop the flush water, pour it into the toilet. Form is important here. A nice height, too high and you risk splashing, too low and the lack of force will keep you there all day and a middle of the bowl bulls-eye aim. This is the combination needed for a quick flush. My form has improved tremendously in the past few months after a few sock soaking mishaps, I fancy myself a bit of a sharpshooter at this point.

Misuse of both the seat toilet no seat and seat toilet seat has been so far reaching that many bathrooms, especially bus bathrooms, use these signs to clarify exactly how it works. It is utterly unfathomable to me that one person would attempt this gargoyle maneuver on a cramped unstable bus toilet let alone enough people to warrant signs being produced.

'Cause It's Friday...

That's all until Monday, making the trip to Pattaya Thailand's sin city in search of some,"grotesque and improbable mischief" I can only see this ending well.

Sending you into weekend with the with Florence + the Machine

It's Always Sunny in Phitsanulok

Better put your shades on.

Richie Jackson

Because even if the skating doesn't do it for you the personal style should. If you don't like either you must be one boring son of a bitch.

Supermarket Sweep Episode 3

After a lengthy delay it is again time to go shopping here on The Playground. The Sweep is back, the products stranger, the tastes more bizarre than ever before.

The Product: Scotch Bird's Nest Beverage

I've been pretty much fascinated with this stuff since I saw it in the refrigerated section of 7-11. The main question I have remains: Who the fuck was the first person who thought it was a good idea to scale a treacherous incline, steal a bird's home and then consume it? Honestly, I can't even begin to fathom why you would do one of those things let alone the entire trio. Why stop at bird's nests? Why not squirrel nests too? Maybe termite mounds? Let's just go around gobbling up the abodes of all the creatures on Earth.

The Packaging: Looks like a baby food jar emblazoned with old sailor tattoos of swallows. The writing is all in Thai so getting the descriptions and marketing information is impossible.

Appearance: Yellowish but still clear, like a really watered down whiskey cocktail. It also has little bits of nest floating in it. They look like suspended pieces of pasta and remind me of that failed Orbitz drink that briefly graced supermarket shelves in the 90's a time of great boundary pushing in the field of soft drinks, most of them ending horribly. See Crystal Pepsi

Smell: Sweet

Taste: Incredibly sweet. I've never felt the urge to take a sip from a butterfly feeder but this is what I would imagine it would taste like. Hummingbirds and the cockroach man from Men in Black would love this stuff. The texture is horrible, little strings of gelatinous nest are awful.

No video of the bug villain from MIB himself available, so instead you get Nathan doing his impression. Thanks Nat, not bad at all.

Overall: It's like 80 Baht for a shot of this stuff and not even remotely worth it. I can get past the fact that somewhere in Thailand an innocent bird has been relegated to a life of begging, shelter handouts and living in a box because of this product, but I can't get past the syrupy viscous consistency and the ultra sweet taste.

BMX BKK

Pedal Power

'Cause It's Friday...

That is all until Monday. Sending you into the weekend by doing it for the kids. Bringing you two of the finest musical performances from the most famous block in all of TV land.

First up, the funkiest most soulful man to ever set foot on Sesame Street, Little Stevie Wonder, absolutely jamming through 1972's Superstition.

Next, Baltimore's big band king, the impeccably dressed, infectiously enthusiastic, timelessly cool Mr. Cab Calloway. A friend to even the dual headed monster, showing you that meeting people by just saying "Hello" is boring as hell.

Back next week with the highly anticipated return of Supermarket Sweep.

In Unrelated News

I'm shamelessly promoting myself like Don King over here on The Playground. For anyone that wants to read me ramble on about things other than broken trains, broken buses and broken Thai conversations I have a new review of the Clipd Beaks second album To Realize up at URB. Click Here To Check It Out

It's Always Sunny in Phitsanulok

Better put your shades on, Jack

Nobody, Nobody

If you want to be hip with the kids these days, jive to what they are into here in Thailand, it's all about K-Pop. The Wonder Girls are South Korea's biggest export since masculine LPGA players started dominating the links and the infinitely hipper than thou Kogi Taco Truck began roaming the streets of Los Angeles slanging kimchi tacos to booze filled hipsters. Nobody is their biggest hit to date and I can't get this song out of my head. The bar behind my house plays it nightly, I think it is beginning to creep into my dreams. My students love it, for some of them the chorus is the only thing they know how to say in English. Sing, not say, would be more accurate. The teachers did a rendition of it at the faculty Christmas party, full costumes and choreography included.

Currently the Wonder Girls are teaming up with the Jonas Brothers to create an unstoppable wave of virginal teen pop set on a world music takeover, their weapons of choice, insanely catchy hooks and a pre-packaged squeaky clean image that seems to know no international borders or country lines. The dreamy, Disney spawned Brothers. The MTV groomed Girls. A match made in Tiger Beat heaven.

It's kid tested, mother approved tunes. The dance moves certainly don't hurt either. You can't argue with the double finger gun and wink combo, timeless. If the subtitles have your brain working harder than you like don't worry, the English album is due out in February.

"All you need is Mother Earth, Father Sky, and your dear old Uncle Tony."

Took off to Phu Hin Rong Kla National Park this weekend after spending Friday at Student's Day, a pre mid-term exams school fair of sorts.

Keeping it casual on Friday with Hawaiian shirts

Prior being declared a national park the area was a strong hold for the People's Liberation Army of Thailand (PLAT) an anti-governemnt communist movement that was defeated in 1982.

Moonscape

A fellow camper compares ink, he wins.

'Cause It's Friday...

It rained yesterday and last night here in Phitsanulok. At lunch I was informed that this is the first time it has rained in January in over 10 years. One teacher told me that I should try to get married because the rain is probably a sign of the end of the world.

That is all until Monday, assuming Monday comes at all. Sending you into the weekend apocalypse style with Michael Stipe. Go ahead and try to sing along, you know you always do.

Thanks Again Al

It's photos like these that remind me why I'm so fucking glad Al Gore invented the Internet. Without it these photos of dogs disguised as other animals are probably sitting in a slide projector somewhere in the Midwest where only a select few of the luckiest bastards on the planet get to see them. Are these dogs happy that they have been transformed into an endangered bear, a Dromedary and the pride of the American West? Probably not and I could care less. Tijuana Zebras have got nothing on these things.

1. Panda is my runaway favorite. Stare that thing in the eyes and tell me it isn't one of the creepiest Goddamn things going. Looks like a dog and Panda mated with the strong possibility that they had a swinger Ewok friend who also got in on the action.

2. The red paint hand print is what pushed this guy into the number two spot. Excellent historical accuracy and a fine way to pay homage to Native American culture. Nothing like having a miniature false bison roaming the prairie that is the front lawn of your suburban home.

3. Nothing against the single hump camel, but you've got compeition like Panda Bear Dog your gonna have to give a little more effort than that.

But the Railroad Don't Run No More. Poor, Poor Pitiful Me!

Abraham Lincoln was the 16th President of the United States.

He was tall, wore a top hat, walked an incredibly long distance to return an incredibly small amount of change, had a Vice President named Hannibal who ranks fourth on the list of famous people bearing this unique name behind the elephant obsessed Hannibal Barca, A-Team member Hannibal Smith and Dr. Hannibal Lector human flesh connoisseur, gave the Gettysburg Address, ended slavery and was assassinated by a Latin spewing actor during the funniest line of Our American Cousin forever linking the play to tragedy.

He is immortalized on the penny but more importantly the five dollar bill because pennies are monetary crumbs you leave in a grimy dish at gas stations or chew on while following the misguided advice of of that one bad influence friend who swears it will ensure you pass the breathalyzer you are about to fail. (Note: This is most often times the same friend who insists he knows all the laws regarding illegal activities done during your adolescent years including but not limited to; when cops can enter your house to break up a party, the legality of driving with beer in your car and drug possession laws for all 50 states. Never listen to him. He is almost always the first kid arrested for not knowing when to quit talking). A fate better than that of JFK who has been relegated to currency purgatory along with other obscure notes like the $2 bill and failed dollar coins but undoubtedly worse than Benjamin Franklin whose name has become ingrained with tales of exorbitant wealth and fetishized by the hip-hop community.

This is a short list of things Lincoln is known for. One thing that is not on the list is riding a horse. I would fathom a guess you could expand this list for sometime before riding a horse would make it. Through various social studies, history and government classes I have never seen a single photograph of Lincoln riding a horse nor heard of an equine companion playing any significant role in his presidency or his life at all.

Yet in the dining car of the southbound express train from Bangkok to Hat Yai there is an elderly Thai man who is insistent that he did exactly this. So insistent that he has me wondering if I missed an important lesson in school.

First he outlines a top hat sitting on his head with his hands, mimes a beard on his face, says the name "Abraham Lincoln," which comes out in 5 distinct syllables. "A-bra-haaam Lin-cooln" then begins to shuffle up and down the car a few feet like he is riding a horse, hands below his chin as though gripping the reins of his trusty stead. He has been repeating this sequence for close to forty minutes, stopping only to have a few Falling Rain cigarettes, 39 Baht a pack.

When I say the word, "horse" he grins and nods in approval. I eye the multiple empty liters of Chang beer on his table and begin to wonder about the historical accuracy of his recreation.

What has lead me to this impromptu lesson about the past leaders of the United States is the Ike and Tina relationship with train travel that has yet again left me in the position of the beautifully legged yet loyal to a fault Mrs. Turner.

For 8 hours the train has not moved after coming to a metal on metal grinding halt in a field of brush. The only visible marker is a Courtyard Marriott whose red and green neon sign glows off in the distance.

The colors are fitting. It is Christmas day or at least was when the train departed, it has slipped into Christmas night.

For the first 4 hours of the breakdown I waited with a fellow teacher in our bunks. We tried to predict how long it would take before we started moving again and laughed at the boy across the aisle from us who looked like a young, pudgy Tenzig Norgay as he laboriously attempted to summit the 5 foot ladder to his bed, finally able to pull himself up and lay in a gasping heap after a suspenseful stop on the final rung that had me wondering if I should alert his parents to the precarious situation.

Although this must sound like a slightly cruel form of entertainment he actually got the last laugh by popping his head through our curtains for an unannounced 5am wake-up call the next morning. Karma.

After the round neighbor was put to sleep, I walked the length of the train shifting side to side like a prize fighter avoiding forehead high luggage racks behind two young Thai men who had pointed at their bottles of Leo beer and smiled. It was enough convincing for me and soon I found myself sharing a booth with them in the food car, just opposite of my favorite historical role player.

Aside from Lincoln the man was also interested in Elvis Presley, John Wayne and showing me that he knew the English alphabet, a skill he was more than eager to demonstrate by pressing his pointer finger down on my tattoos while reciting each letter. The tattoos are my brothers initials, they are located on my legs, I'm glad there are not more of them.

By now my curiosity could not be cured by hanging out the window and squinting towards the floodlights that had been set up on the tracks and it was at this exact moment that I got off the train and in doing so gave into one of the most primal urges of man.

It must be embedded deep in the fabric of the male gender, in the code of our DNA, that when something mechanical fails we are drawn to it en masse, gather around, observe the situation, feign expertise and then give an unasked for opinion no matter how uneducated or inexperienced it may be.

Cars, boats with inboard and outboard engines, power tools, computers, DVD players, motorcycles of countless varieties, gaming consoles, all household appliances and consumer electronics. If you posses a Y chromosome you posses the knowledge to fix all of these things or at least the deep seeded belief you have the knowledge to.

"Could be the wheels."

"Looks like a gear problem."

"Bolts are probably stripped."

I found myself narrating the whispers between the small groups of men as they pointed at the train whose cars were now disconnected, each wore a concerned scowl on their face.

One gathering looked to be composed of three generations. The art of the unhelpful side commentary being passed down the family line. An oral history of ignorant interjection.

Camera men arrived with people scribbling notes and I felt like I was on the front lines of something big. But a man in an official looking "Thailand Railways" jacket pointed at a twisted piece of metal on the ground. From people's reactions I assumed this is the cause of our troubles, it was anticlimactic. I realize I was not on the front lines of anything.

The man in the jacket then turned and said we would depart in 5 minutes. I didn't believe him.

I hoisted myself back onto the train and rejoined the group that now included a university student who had a glamour shot of his girlfriend dressed as a nurse in his wallet, a 34 year old who was headed south to work on a rubber tree plantation, the train chef now shirtless, the trotting Lincoln, a fellow teacher and a suspiciously quiet man with an extremely well kept mustache and a tan fedora who retired to bed early. I use retire because that is exactly what men like this do. They do not just "go to bed."

We attempted to to talk more. Switching between English, broken Thai and notes on wet napkins. We shared a cigarette rolled in a corn husk, my throat thanked me in the morning.

As I fell asleep the train shuttered and began to roll again. It had been far longer than five minutes.

It's Always Sunny in Phitsanulok

Better put your shades on

Danger in the Dining Hall

Beijing, China (CNN) -- Li Jingchao learned the hard way -- be careful what you stick up your nose.

The 14-month-old boy was playing with chopsticks when, his doctor says, he fell and one of the sticks pierced his nose.

"It touched upon the deep area of his brain, four centimeters of the chopstick was inside his skull," Dr. Sun Wei told CNN.

Jingchao's mother, Zhao Guilu didn't see what happened -- she was in another room at the time, but came running when she heard her son crying.

"I was washing dishes. I rushed in and saw him lying on the ground. He couldn't stop crying and I noticed a chopstick stuck in his nose."

She went to a local clinic, but doctors there warned her it was too dangerous to try to remove the chopstick because it may cause massive bleeding. Zhao was frantic and called her husband. A relative offered to drive them from their small village, hundreds of miles to a hospital in Beijing.

"I thought at that time, it is all over, my boy will die," said his father Li Guanglai. "During the 10 hours of driving I felt depressed. I could barely breathe. I looked at my boy and his right side was numb. He was paralyzed."

Neurosurgeons, including Sun prepped for surgery but they feared removing the chopstick would rupture an artery. The little boy's head was shaved and they were ready to open his skull to control the bleeding if necessary.

But when they pulled the chopstick out -- nothing. It simply came straight out, much easier it seems than how it went in.

"I never thought it would be this successful." said his dad. "I would say this hospital gave him a second life."

Doctors said if the chopstick had gone any further in it would have caused life threatening bleeding and if it was a little more to either side the boy may have been permanently paralyzed.

"The position of the chopstick was very, very lucky for him," Sun said.

People are always telling to watch what I eat in Thailand, don't eat street food, don't touch the water, drink piss warm beverages to avoid ice. I'd be a malnourished, dehydrated corpse by now if I took it all to heart and it turns out it's not the food or drink that is going to get me it's the utensils. The State Department floods my inbox with warnings about protests and possible uprisings while real threats go unreported. I'm sticking to spoons from here on out.

"My special Monday morning tape for you! Special!"

"Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels? NO!"

Visual Contact

Headed to Phuket and some surrounding islands for my holiday break. Armed myself with a shiny new purple camera that would make entire sorority houses jelaous

"Out of the sun...We'll be having some fun...People walking above"

Jack fruit. As delicious as an apple, slightly more dangerous.

Locals only