tim thoughts

[timphan]

thoughts on La La Land

He performs the songs for everyone and no one at the same time, his melodies drowned out by the bustle of the city. For just a moment, he thinks he is safe to perform his own art when no one is paying attention. But she did. Does it only take a fellow artist to recognize the courage it requires to sing your own songs?

And so, one soul in two bodies meet. The journey into each other uncovers their dreams, a needed push to creative inspiration. Alas, the final cost for success was each other.

This is the story of Once, my favorite movie in the summer of 2007.

I spent my entire freshmen year strumming songs from the soundtrack, as I rediscovered the joy of piano, and even a few lyrics. I was going to be a songwriter, I played my half-written lyrics against the Isla Vista sunset.

Those songs lay unfinished. Incomplete melodies and a dream deferred, the spark of those youthful memories fade against the tides of time. And last night, it all came flooding back during the last notes of La-La Land.

This movie provoked a very real and lingering emotional response. Nostalgia for your youth and neglected dreams is intoxicating, it may even deceive you. Boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past...

I can’t seem to finish my song. I don’t feel the same spark I felt from my college years, but there are new feelings you have. A longing for the bright lights of the city, a fire to reignite the work of politics to be done.  Love, what is love, how can you describe something you’ve only felt a tinge of?

[timphan]

A quick update on moving to Florida to help elect Hillary Clinton 

[timphan]

reflections on my favorite. thank you

[timphan]

A goodbye to 2015 (on my new blog where I’ve been dabbling in more political/data things), and some oddly personal reflections. But I think it’s healthy to be real, to clear the air before a new year arrives, to start fresh as we all wish we can.

[judedoyle]

Likable

My affection for Hillary Clinton is hard to explain. It wins no fights and earns you no friends to admit it: Actual warmth, even protectiveness, toward this impossible, frustrating, contradictory, polarizing, disappointing woman. My finding Hillary intensely “likable” is weird, and I admit it. It doesn’t signify universal approval of her decisions. I can and do disagree with Hillary Clinton, regularly and strongly. But some part of me also hopes that Hillary Clinton is having a nice day. 

I’ve come to believe that, in some ways, saying nice things about Hillary Clinton is a subversive act. I spent much of this year working on a long project on how women are demonized in the media. Hillary Clinton was a fairly large part of that story – she had to be; if you want to talk “women that people hate,” she’s kind of unavoidable – and I spent a while sorting through Clintoniana, dating back to the early ‘90s, to find nasty things people had said about her, or common narratives about her personality. It wasn’t pretty – the worst stuff for Hillary was way worse than I’d expected, and there was way more of it than I expected to find – but it was also illuminating, in some key ways. I got a better sense of the pressures that she has to live with, and how they’ve informed her decisions.

I also realized that, unless you really take a look at those pressures, the narrative around Hillary Clinton’s “likability” is doomed to be inaccurate, in some way. She might even be very easy to dislike, if you weren’t looking at those narratives, or if you underestimated their severity. But, in my experience, trying to parse Hillary Clinton without also parsing Hillary-Hate is like trying to drink water without touching the glass. As long as you refuse to deal with the container, the actual substance tends to stay permanently out of reach. 

Keep reading

[timphan]

I/O

I know myself well enough to know that if I really want to, I can be the extremely sociable extrovert at a party who has no problem chatting with strangers (thank you Isla Vista for those life lessons), I fit in very well at networking events and Meetups where I know zero people. 

I also know myself to enjoy solitude and privacy as well, some of my favorite memories involve nighttime driving with nothing but the classic rock of the radio. I’ve spent many a weekend at home, perfectly contented to enjoy Twitch/Netflix/Reddit without the necessity of going out.

I don’t think people are divided into extroverts or introverts, life isn’t that binary or absolute. Recently I’m going through more of the second phase, I’ve been a bit more withdrawn heading into winter (a recent cold kept me inside a lot too). One of the nastier side effects of this is that I’ll become less responsive to friends in general, I’ll neglect texts and messages and invitations.

I’m honestly wrapped up in personal stuff where I am working on myself, but that’s a terrible fucking excuse. I recognize that sometimes that means I haven’t been the best friend to people I really care about. Being a friend (proud Hufflepuff right here) is more important to my identity more than being smart or ambitious or creative or anything, I really pride myself on being there for others. Today 5 friends, who go back over a decade, sat at a Starbucks to chat about the same stuff we always get into. Jobs, relationships, Kobe’s decline, what-would-you-do-if-you-won-the-lottery, traveling to Mars when we’re 300 years old, how screwed up our children will be, the Syrian refugees, new bars we’ve yet to try, and what ugly Christmas sweaters we will be wearing. Friends reminiscing on a decade of past memories, looking forward to decades of more. I’ve not known a group of people more loyal to each other than us, and I recognize it’s a rare thing to have. It was at the end that I confessed my flaw, this vulnerability that I write here, that I am not as good a friend as I think I could be.  Yesterday is always the best time to start improving yourself. 

Happy Thanksgiving everyone, I truly am thankful for you. Your friendship and memories, your patience and trust, your loyalty and love. I hope I can be the type of friend you all deserve, for as many of you as I can. 

[timphan]

weekly pho lunches

During lunch today, my dad told me that one of his closest friends (I'll name him BB) from Vietnam had passed away during the Christmas holiday. He found out during his monthly calls back to his homeland, when his widow picked up the phone instead. 

During Thanksgiving, another friend (who my dad considered a brother) had also passed away. My dad loved this man (I'll name CL), my grandmother essentially adopted him as her ninth child when my dad met CL on the streets of Vietnam as children. My dad was very sad that he couldn't go back to Vietnam for the funeral arrangements. If my dad had gone back in December, then maybe he would have gotten one last conversation with BB.

There was this foreign look in my dad's eyes, that I had never seen before. He's not an emotional person, but this was something I could never forget. Was it regret, to not have the chance to say goodbye? Was it fear, of his own mortality as he approaches his late 60's? Was it loneliness, to have two childhood friends move on so soon?

My dad did look a little worn down and tired, did the lines in his face look a little deeper than usual? He asked me if he looked healthy, and I honestly can't say. Is it the natural passage of time that has aged his face, or was it the burdens?

I didn't really know how to comfort him. The best I could do was a "well at least you had the pleasure of true friendship over so many years", but I honestly didn't know what to say. What could I say? I've never lost a friend, a brother. There are limits to empathy, and I fear the day I will have to experience that pain.

Later in the night, I went to my first ever comedy show. Louie CK is my favorite comedian, and I got a ticket to his show at the Forum. His standup had everything I expected from him, such as him being fat, to making fun of his kids (his poor daughters will grow up having so many people know about their quirky habits!).

However, there was this one bit that took me away from the show. A good show is supposed to keep you immersed in the performance, where you shut out all external thoughts and just enjoy the act at hand. Louie had this existentialist riff about life and death and the purpose of it all, and comically answered it with a "if you see food, just eat it" bit. For some reason, it brought me back to my lunch with my dad. 

I don't know what I'm trying to say here. There's something ruminating in my heart about family and love and friendship and living-life-to-the-fullest. I aspire to be a good friend, but I wish I was a better son. There's nothing worse for me to not be able to help the people I love, and I wonder what more I could say to my dad.  For now I just wish peace to CL and BB, I hope they know how much my dad loved them. And I hope you all know, all much I love you.

[timphan]

I can't stare at bookshelves the same way again after watching Interstellar. These encyclopedias represent knowledge, ideas, and stories that span time and space in its own way. I only hope we're listening enough.

[timphan]

Little Things

I walked into a gas station, went straight for the energy drinks. Hadn't needed one since college. Cashier greets me, how are you? I sigh, I'm tired. They both exclaim me too! in perfect unison. It was a simple moment.

Lunch with my pops. We talk about the student protests in Hong Kong, Transitions to a larger discussion on Chinese history, culture, and politics. I teach him what I learned, about the artistic Tang Dynasty, about Zheng He's voyage, the recent outrage about a state-backed report claiming an exaggeration of the millions dead during the Great Leap Forward. I teach him about the fears and pressure that young Chinese people face today, as we all face. 

We walk into a Target. I will not be surprised when it fails. Why? If you ask 100 people what Amazon sells, I imagine 99 people would answer "everything". But 1 person will say information. Companies like Amazon understand how consumer histories, search preferences, and trends can predict future purchases. This information is gold to advertisers, manufacturers, etc etc etc. That's why Target will fail, because nobody buys anything on Target.com. I want to be that 1 person in 100, to think like that consistently, to see the future that's already here. 

House cleaning/renovation month continues. I discover my old N64 and Super Smash Brothers. I two-stock 3 Level Nine Jigglys per usual with my DK, there is no rust. But I realize, I mastered only 1 character out of 12. Am I really that good at it then? There is always a challenge left in things you thought you mastered, new themes in old stories, unfinished tasks in previous dreams. I just want a Time-Turner and a regular person's circadian rhythm. It's too damn late to be coding and reading and editing and writing...but then again, it is also the best time.

It's going to be a great week. 

[timphan]

Resting after the conference at the site of my very first Instagram photo, over two years ago. Man I ain't changed, but I know I'm not the same :D (at UCLA Sculpture Garden)

[timphan]

resilience, and home again.

And as frightening as it can be, that pain will make you stronger if you allow yourself to feel it. Embrace it. It will make you more powerful than you can ever imagine. The greatest gift we have is to bear their pain without breaking and it comes from your most human part – hope.

future Charles Xavier to past Charles Xavier, X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014)

The chapter that will be titled "Monterey" in my story was a beautiful adventure in my life, for all the things that I learned and the people that changed me. But my lasting lessons will ultimately not be about policy analysis or quantitative methods, it will be about her.

It's a personal rule of mine to keep my private life offline as much as I can, so for the last 2 years I rarely posted anything of note about my relationship to social media. For now, all I will say about her is that she made me feel joyful and free, and I will always treasure the life that we shared together in that little town by the sea.

But all stories have endings, even the best ones. And now I am back home in Los Angeles, ready to start a new phase of my life.

I would be lying if I said all is well. Losing her, family issues, finding the right job, and even having my beloved UCSB community hurt by a traumatic tragedy. Honestly, it wears on me. 

But I know I'm ready for this. I have to be.

The media wants to discuss "what is a real man?", but true masculinity is essentialist bullshit. I really don't give a damn about living up to some societal perception of how a male should be. Instead, I define the values I hold most dear to my heart, and I do my best to live consistently to them every day. Empathy, hope, and a never-ending drive to better myself.

I get it now. We don't get all the dreams we wanted as children. The world can be a cruel Hobbesian existence, where our lives are solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short. You will be let down, you will be fired, you will be dumped, you will suffer, you will lose the people you love most. Life is not only unfair, it will go out of its merry way to try and beat you down until you are broken with nothing left. These are life's certainties that you will never escape. 

And yet despite all that, I have to hold on to the thing that makes us most human. Our ability to rise again. The world is an onslaught of waves crashing down all around us, and now, more than ever, I must be a mountain. The next few days, weeks, and months will be the most challenging thing I will have ever faced in my life, but I must be strong for her, for my brother, for my parents, and ultimately for myself. 

I know I can endure the days to come, because I know my road. I know the steps I must take to reach that destination. I know that I have an army of close friends I've been away from for too long, people I trust to be there when the road gets tough. My place is here, in Los Angeles, in California, and I have no plans on leaving anytime soon.

For the longest time, I thought I wanted to work in international development, and that journey consumed my dreams. I've spent countless hours poring over dev economics and public policy, and truthfully it will never really go away for me. But now, I realize those wanderlust dreams of traveling the world are not for me. Those dreams belonged to a younger boy who wanted to be like the wind, who now realizes he has an infinitely more important dream, 

At the end of my journey, in my daydreams, lies a house with high ceilings. A grand piano in a ballroom, with glass windows peering out. I can smell the ocean salt as I rest my worn out fingers on those keys, the sounds of my melodies echoing throughout a not-so-empty house.  She is reading to them, surrounded by bookcases teeming with fairytales, classic literature, and history books I've picked up over the years. And I can be happy, for I will have known I made it.

[timphan]

The complex truths of my feelings lie between my guilt for their sacrifice, and thankfulness to be an American. The past is simultaneously tragic and beautiful, and I must not run from it. (at Vietnam Veterans Memorial)

[dannzee]

To “Chase a Charmander” or “Chasing Charmanders”  refers to the act of pursing someone (often with romantic intrest) that will only hurt you. Charmanders are very cute and lovable but their tail will burn you before you ever catch it. 

Inspired by my friend Tim Phan and the Pokemon franchise This phrase often reminds me of Adele’s “Chasing Pavements”

[timphan]

I don't always reblog posts, but when I do, it's because I'm the direct inspiration for it.

[timphan]

Uncertainty is a Warm Gun- The Future of 3D Printing, Gun Control, and Globalization

The recent passage of the UN Arms Trade Treaty by the General Assembly was a victory for civil…

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[timphan]

finals motivation from Data Analysis with Professor DePaolis #maythefourthbewithyou (at Monterey Institute of International Studies)

[timphan]

Tumbling on to Perpetual Beats

My very first Tumblr post back in 2010 was a stream of consciousness rant that would horrify my high school English teachers. It was inspired by my reading of Dag Hammarskjold's Markings, the former UN Secretary General's diary. Actually, he was truly a poet in a politician's suit (his diary is an endless stream of motivational haikus).

Over time, my disjointed thoughts evolved into something more concrete. I put more time and effort into each post, I wanted it to be meaningful rather than just mind-farting, I never posted anything that wasn't an original thought. I appreciated the feedback from friends and strangers alike who read my works, especially the advice columns that I wrote. 

I rarely (if ever) put my personal life into this blog. Tumblr was just my space to express my identity, my ideas, my passions. As a typical twenty-something Millennial seeking his purpose, Tumblr was a valuable whiteboard to organize my thoughts. 

Some of my most inspired pieces of writing come from that genuine wish to help mentor my younger friends, as we leave the bubble of university for the “real world”. I’ve developed a lot of strong thoughts about education, careers, and the future of this economy that I would love to share with a wider audience (especially those students with a passion in politics also pursuing a career in the NGO or policy arena). My specific education here at a professional graduate school has given me a lot of valuable insights that I wish I knew about, when I was a college student myself. 

My epiphany is that my personal and professional lives are quite intertwined. I still aspire to be a career “point guard” of sorts, as I once wrote about how “I want to push friends and strangers alike into the right direction, I want to assist them in reaching their dreams and goals.” Even though I wrote that over a year ago, time has shown that my drive to help others is no mere hobby, but an actual life pursuit. I realize my desire to help my friends is strongly tied to my own professional goals, I want to be someone that helps you (or your NGO/business/government/institution/etc) get to your maximum potential. 

(If all works out, I'll hopefully be working in my school's career center next semester. Maybe even our digital media lab, since I enjoy this Web 2.0 so dearly)

So I've started a new blog at Perpetual Beats. This will be a more focused attempt to interact with a more professional audience in my field, on a web platform that is more conducive to interaction. While this blog will be generally be focused on development/politics/data, I hope to soon include career topics like the values of networking, the importance of Web 2.0 and social media, how to “brand” yourself, and the relevance of your “useless” humanities/social science/liberal arts degree. All of these posts will be linked back to Tumblr for your convenience.

Please continue to give me feedback as much as possible, I’ve always treasured it.

I don't know what I'll do with Tumblr then. It's not like I post any personal stuff here anyways (that's in my private drafts!). Perhaps I'll find time to reflect on some of my traditional identity issues, but time will tell what my priorities will be. 

I look back at my Tumblr archive now with a sense of pride, despite some of my more juvenile and poorly-written works. My archive is the closest thing I have to tracing the evolution of my ideas, and therefore my own development from a young college sophomore to the working professional I will soon be. I hope to look back at Perpetual Beats' archives with the same satisfaction one day as well.

[timphan]

If the homeland is the battlefield, where is Dzhokhar Tsarnaev's home?

Many sensible people have preached patience and prudence in the aftermath of the Boston bombings. I particularly agreed with the concerns of those who advocated against “fear”, such as Stephen Walt who argues we have given a disproportionate amount of…

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