Kong Quotes

karapatan kong madapa at bumangon sa buhay nang walang tatawa, magagalit, magtatanong, o magbibilang kung ilang beses na 'kong nagkamali at ilang ulit ako dapat bumawi

Kung hindi mutual ang felings natin, pwes, gagawin kong mutual. Ayaw ko na rin sa'yo.

Obligasyon kong maglayag, karapatan kong pumunta sa kung saan ko gusto, responsibilidad ko ang buhay ko.

Nalaman kong habang lumalaki ka, maraming beses kang madadapa. Bumangon ka man ulit o hindi, magpapatuloy ang buhay, iikot ang mundo, at mauubos ang oras.

Nalaman kong hindi pala exam na may passing rate ang buhay. Hindi ito multiple choice, identification, true or false, enumeration, o fill-in-the-blanks na sinasagutan, kundi essay na isinusulat araw-araw. Huhusgahan ito hindi base sa kung tama o mali ang sagot, kundi base sa kung may kabuluhan ang mga naisulat o wala. Allowed ang erasures.

ako, ang hinahangaan kong tao na mahilig sa libro e yung may matututunan ka pag kausap mo, yung makikita mong naging marunong at mabuti siyang tao dahil sa pagbabasa niya ng mga libro.

Nalaman kong maswerte ako dahil pinaglaro at pinag-aral ako ng magulang ko nung bata pa 'ko. Hindi pala lahat ng bata e dumaraan sa kamusmusan.

A to the G to the U to STD I’m D boy because I’m from D I’m the crazy guy, the lunatic on beat Sending listeners to Hong Kong with my rap my tongue technology

It was just a kiss – " "Yeah, and King Kong was just a monkey.

each man must realize that it can all disappear very quickly: the cat, the woman, the job, the front tire, the bed, the walls, the room; all our necessities including love, rest on foundations of sand — and any given cause, no matter how unrelated: the death of a boy in Hong Kong or a blizzard in Omaha . . . can serve as your undoing. all your chinaware crashing to the kitchen floor, your girl will enter and you'll be standing, drunk, in the center of it and she'll ask: my god, what's the matter? and you'll answer: I don't know, I don't know . . . — PULL A STRING, A PUPPET MOVES . . .

It's On Like Donkey Kong.

All things considered, I'd rather have monkeys," Kishan shouted. I shivered. "Tell you what. We'll rent King Kong and The Birds. Then you can decide." He yelled as he ran from a swooping bird, "Are you asking me on a date? Because if you are, it will definitely give me more incentive to come out of this alive." "Whatever works" "You're on.

Gusto ko siyang protektahan at pasayahin.. wala namang masama sa gusto kong gawin diba?

Some marriages are made in heaven, Mine was made in Hong Kong, by the same people who make those little rubber pork chops they sell in the pet department at Kmart.

Kenji, okay lang ba kung makalin kita? 'I love you', gusto kong sabihin sayo pero natatakot ako. Hindi ko alam kung saan ako natatakot. Pag sinabi ko bang 'I love you', sasabihin mo rin ng 'I love you too'. Sigh.

Mag-date tayo. Hinde ko mapropromise na hinde kita masasaktan pero susubukan kong hinde. Kilala mo naman ako eh.. Hinde ako sweet na tao. Kaya nga binansagan mo akong GANGSTER eh, dahil sa ugali ko. Let’s date again.. Wala ng deal.. Date lang naman eh.

Pac-Man? Or is it Donkey Kong?” In truth, it looked a little more violent and military. A slow grin spread over his face. “Baseball. Think maybe you could stand behind me and give me a few pointers?

And I was fairly certain that my strong-enough-for-King-Kong-but-made-for-a-woman deodorant had utterly failed. --Doom with a View

Hindi ako hihingi ng dispensa sa mga nabulabog kong konsensya." "Kung nasira ko man ang araw mo, o kung hindi mo ito inkinatuwa, malinaw na hindi ako ang tipo ng manunulat na gusto mong basahin. Pero hindi ito nangangahulugan ng pagkakakumpiska ng ballpen at lisensya ko para magsulat." PERO "Kung may magsasabi mn sa hinaharap na: "sana nagpatawa ka na lang!" yun ay opinyong handa kong tanggapin.

Breakfast is the only meal of the day that I tend to view with the same kind of traditionalized reverence that most people associate with Lunch and Dinner. I like to eat breakfast alone, and almost never before noon; anybody with a terminally jangled lifestyle needs at least one psychic anchor every twenty-four hours, and mine is breakfast. In Hong Kong, Dallas or at home — and regardless of whether or not I have been to bed — breakfast is a personal ritual that can only be properly observed alone, and in a spirit of genuine excess. The food factor should always be massive: four Bloody Marys, two grapefruits, a pot of coffee, Rangoon crepes, a half-pound of either sausage, bacon, or corned beef hash with diced chiles, a Spanish omelette or eggs Benedict, a quart of milk, a chopped lemon for random seasoning, and something like a slice of Key lime pie, two margaritas, and six lines of the best cocaine for dessert… Right, and there should also be two or three newspapers, all mail and messages, a telephone, a notebook for planning the next twenty-four hours and at least one source of good music… All of which should be dealt with outside, in the warmth of a hot sun, and preferably stone naked.

Alam ko, may mas malaki pang mundo na naghihintay kong magalugad, madaanan, matapakan o masulyapan man lang. Pupunta rin ako dyan. Hinay-hinay lang. Dayuhan pa ako sa sarili kong mundo. Parang alien.

Di ko alam kung paano ie-explain, pero, para sa akin, ang bag ng babae ay simbolo ng kanyang daigdig. The mere fact na nag-decide ang babae na yun ang laman at bigat ng bag niya, 'yun ang personal nyang mundo. Kaya niya dinala yun kasi yun ang kaya nyang dalhin. Anytime, anywhere. Nadadala niya yun from point A to point B. Pero kapag nakakita na ng lalake, dapat lalake na ang magpatuloy ng pagdadala from point B to point C? Kapag umalis ba ang babae mula sa kanyang bahay, aware siya na may lalakeng magbibitbit ng bag niya? I don't think so. Even without the guy, dadalhin pa rin naman ng babae yun kahit saan siya magpunta. Kaya ako, hinahayaan ko lang bitbitin ng babae ang kanyang bag. Gusto kong sabihin sa kanya na with or without me, or each other, tuloy lang ang pagbibitbit ng mundo, ng kani-kaniyang daigdig.

Pakiramdam ko e andami kong naiisip na dehins magawa dahil alang deadline. Nasanay ata ko sa school tsaka sa trabaho na lahat may deadline. E yung nga naiisip ko tuloy na sariling projects di ko matapos kasi walang deadline.

Former police chief of Houston once said of me: “Frank Abagnale could write a check on toilet paper, drawn on the Confederate States Treasury, sign it ‘U.R. Hooked’ and cash it at any bank in town, using a Hong Kong driver’s license for identification.

i am someone who wants very much to be popular. I don’t just want you to like me, I want to be one of the most joy-inducing human beings that you’ve ever encountered. I want to explode on your night sky like fireworks at midnight on New Year’s Eve in Hong Kong.

Diplomacy is the art of telling people to go to hell in such a way that they ask for directions.

Nais kong magtaguyod ng pamilyang alam ang pagkakaiba ng sapat at sobra, at kung alin ang para sa amin at alin ang nararapat nang ibahagi sa iba.

I’d been sad in Dublin, decided it was Dublin’s fault, and thought Hong Kong would help.

You can leave Hong Kong, but it will never leave you.

Kapag sinabi kong mahal kita, ang ibig kong sabihin Masaya ako. Dahil mahal, gaano man kahaba ang araw, Uuwi ako sa 'yo. (p. 33)

Muchas veces me moría pensando que no iba a verte. Pero moría la muerte cada vez que te veia. [...] King Kong no tuvo suerte.

Everyone claims to be a billionaire these days. But you’re not really a billionaire until you spend your billions. —OVERHEARD AT THE HONG KONG JOCKEY CLUB

That's right. Uh-huh. Uh-huh," Nick said arrogantly. "You might know karate, boy, but I know gorilla, and I'm a level 40 champion in it. Let's hear it for Diddy Kong! Ew! Ew! Ew! Ew! Ew!" He mimicked the sound of a gorilla as he held on for dear life.

Naisip kong hindi maaaring magkaroon ng perpektong buhay ang isang tao. Hindi natin makukuha ang lahat ng gusto natin. Hindi umaayon ang lahat sa kagustuhan natin. Walang exception doon.

I’ll wait for you.. I can do that, right? hihintayin kita hanggang sa magsawa ako kakaintay sayo.. hanggang sa mapagod ako.. hanggang sa mawalan na ako ng lakas kakaintay sayo..” “Wag na Athena.. please. Wag mo na akong intayin..” “Pero gusto ko.. Hayaan mo na lang akong mag hintay kahit na alam kong wala na akong iniintay pa. Tama na, please.. Wag mo na akong intayin.. yun na lang hinihiling ko..” he sighed while I cried. “Wag ka namang umiyak oh.. please.. “Bakit hinde ako iiyak? Eh mawawala ka na sakin..” “Hinde naman ako mawawala eh.. “Magkatabi naman tayo sa classroom diba? Magkakasama rin naman tayo.. Magkaibigan pa rin tayo..” naiyak ako lalo sa huling sinabi niya.. “I love you.. I’m sorry Athena.. Bye..

Dati naman akong masaya bago pa dumating si Jen. Mas sumaya nga lang nang dumating siya. Pero bakit nang umalis siya, hindi na ako naging kasinsaya gaya ng dati bago pa siya dumating? Hindi kaya dahil imbes na isama ko si Jen sa daigdig ko, siya ang ginawa kong daigdig? Kung naging masaya ako bago dumating si Jen, pwede rin ako maging masaya kahit wala na siya. Hindi siya ang dahilan ng pag-inog ng mundo ko, hindi rin dapat siya ang dahilan ng pagtigil nito.

I have often noticed that nationalism is at its strongest at the periphery. Hitler was Austrian, Bonaparte Corsican. In postwar Greece and Turkey the two most prominent ultra-right nationalists had both been born in Cyprus. The most extreme Irish Republicans are in Belfast and Derry (and Boston and New York). Sun Yat Sen, father of Chinese nationalism, was from Hong Kong. The Serbian extremists Milošević and Karadžić were from Montenegro and their most incendiary Croat counterparts in the Ustashe tended to hail from the frontier lands of Western Herzegovina.

Kapag may mga uban na po akong tulad ng sa inyo at ginugunita ang nakaraan at makita kong gumawa ako alang-alang sa sarili lamang, hindi ginhawa ang magagawa't nararapat gawin ukol sa bayang nagbigay sa akin ng lahat, ukol sa mga mamamayang tumutulong sa aking mabuhay, kapag nagkagayon po, magiging tinik sa akin ang bawat uban, at sa halip na ikaliwalhati ko'y dapat kong ikahiya.

Saan ba ako pwedeng magpasya? Ang kaluluwa ko, kargo ng pari. Marka ko sa eskwelahan, nakasalalay sa dulo ng pulang ballpen ng titser ko. Yung gusto kong kurso, nakatali sa dulo ng bulsa ng tatay ko. Yung kalayaan ko, kahit bahagya ko palang nagagamit ay pinutol na nila. Sila na rin ang nagbigay ng bagong kahulugan nun, kahit hindi kami kinonsulta.

. . . my obsession with gratefulness. I can't stop. Just now, I press the elevator button and am thankful that it arrives quickly. I get onto the elevator and am thankful that the elevator cable didn't snap and plummet me to the basement. I go to the fifth floor and am thankful that I didn't have to stop on the second or third or fourth floor. I get out and am thankful that Julie left the door unlocked so I don't have to rummage for my King Kong key ring. I walk in, and am thankful that Jasper is home and healthy and stuffing his face with pineapple wedges. And on and on. I'm actually muttering to myself, 'Thank you. . .thank you. . . thank you.' It's an odd way to live. But also kind of great and powerful. I've never before been so aware of the thousands of little good things, the thousands of things that go right every day.

Now, I don’t think I’m a stupid guy. I’m just an average guy who does stupid things.

Nalaman kong ang mundo, sa totoong buhay, ay hindi 'yung makulay na murals na nakikita sa mgaa pre-school. Hindi ito laging may rainbow, araw, ibon, puno, at mga bulaklak.

Japan and Hong Kong are steadily whittling away at the last of the elephants, turning their tusks (so much more elegant left on the elephant) into artistic carvings. In much the same way, the beautiful furs from leopard, jaguar, Snow leopard, Clouded leopard and so on, are used to clad the inelegant bodies of thoughtless and, for the most part, ugly women. I wonder how many would buy these furs if they knew that on their bodies they wore the skin of an animal that, when captured, was killed by the medieval and agonizing method of having a red-hot rod inserted up its rectum so as not to mark the skin.

A man who doesn't trust cannot be trusted

My mind is like the streets of Hong Kong.

When it gets down to it — talking trade balances here — once we've brain-drained all our technology into other countries, once things have evened out, they're making cars in Bolivia and microwave ovens in Tadzhikistan and selling them here — once our edge in natural resources has been made irrelevant by giant Hong Kong ships and dirigibles that can ship North Dakota all the way to New Zealand for a nickel — once the Invisible Hand has taken away all those historical inequities and smeared them out into a broad global layer of what a Pakistani brickmaker would consider to be prosperity — y'know what? There's only four things we do better than anyone else: music movies microcode (software) high-speed pizza delivery

Nothing in this world happens unless white folks says it happens. The lies they tell each other sound better to them than the truth does when it comes out of our mouths.

God was forever generous with His gifts: hope, love, truth, and the belief in the indestructability of the good in all people.

If a person who is content with his life meets someone who makes everything just a little bit more challenging, who both fits and doesn't fit into his life and his routine, to quote Guy Fieri, it is On Like Donkey Kong: swing the rope, jump the barrel, and save the princess.

In much the same way, motherhood has become the essential female experience, valued above all others: giving life is where it's at. "Pro-maternity" propaganda has rarely been so extreme. They must be joking, the modern equivalent of the double constraint: "Have babies, it's wonderful, you'll feel more fulfilled and feminine than ever," but do it in a society in freefall in which waged work is a condition of social survival but guaranteed to no one, and especially not to women. Give birth in cities where accommodation is precarious, schools have surrendered the fight and children are subject to the most vicious mental assault through advertising, TV, internet, fizzy drink manufacturers and so on. Without children you will never be fulfilled as a woman, but bringing up kids in decent conditions is almost impossible.

The Empire State, a lonely dinosaur, rose sadly at midtown, highest tower, tallest mountain, longest road, King Kong's eyrie, meant to moor airships, alas.

Magiging selfish ba ako kung sasabihin kong... gusto kong akin ka lang?

I know you come from big spenders, but I could put you on a private jet tonight, fly us to Paris for a shopping trip down Champs Elysées, then have the jet fly us to Hong Kong to finish off our day on Causeway Bay. We could return to the States and stop at the Porsche dealership and pick you out a new 911 and that day wouldn’t put a dent in my finances.

The clown was an evil one. They’re either good or bad, and this one was definitely the latter.

He’s a drunk. One of those guys who dies at twenty and is buried at eighty.

...you could just tell that if Rosie couldn't romance her way to the top of the Empire State Building, she was prepared to climb it like King Kong.

Pero kung meron talagang may himala, gusto kong muling makita’t makausap si Jen. At kapag nangyari ‘yun, hindi ko na palalampasin ang pagkakataon na sabihin sa kanya ang lahat ng gusto kong sabihin. Huhubarin ko na ang kahihiyan ko. Itatapon ang pag-aastig-astigan. Hindi na baleng iwan nya sa huli kapag nalaman nyang mahal ko sya, na nababaliw na ako sa kanya, na gusto kong maging officially kami na. Kung sakaling magbago sya ng isip, na hindi nya na iiwan ang lahat ng nagmamahal o nababaliw sa kanya, kung sakaling hindi na rin sya nag-astig-astigan o nagmanhid-manhidan, isusumpa ko sa ngalan ng mga lamang lupang hindi matahimik sa pagmumura ko sa gabi at mamatay man ang lasenggero naming kapitbahay… Pukang ama… Hindi ko na sya pakakawalan.

C'est quand même épatant, et pour le moins moderne, un dominant qui vient chialer que le dominé n'y met pas assez du sien...

Il faut être crétin, ou simplement malhonnête, pour trouver une oppression insupportable et juger l'autre pleine de poésie.

I’ve always harbored a fondness for monsters. Even as a child, I had rooted for Godzilla and King Kong instead of for the people trying to kill them. It had seemed to me that these monsters’ irritation was perfectly reasonable. Nobody likes to be awakened from slumber by a nuclear explosion, so it was no wonder to me Godzilla was crabby; as for King Kong, few men would blame him for his attraction to pretty Fay Wray. (Though her screaming would have eventually put off anyone less patient than a gorilla.) If you took the monsters’ point of view, everything they did made perfect sense. The trick was learning to think like a monster.

If you can make one person listen to you, you can make the world Hear you.

History had shown again and again that ignoring evil because it did not affect you was a short-sighted and often deadly mistake. 

Después de unos años de buena, leal y sincera investigación he acabado llegando a esta conclusión: la feminidad es una puta hipocresía. El arte de ser servil.

May choice naman yata ako na hindi umasa sa pagbabalik ni Jen. Na kalimutan na siya nang tuluyan at maghanap na ng iba o mahanap ako ng iba. O pwedeng ako lang at wala na siya sa sistema ko. Dati naman akong okay nung wala pa siya. Dapat okay pa rin ako kahit wala na siya. Pero choice ko yata na pahirapan ang sarili ko. At sa ginagawa kong pagpapahirap sa sarili ko, parang nasisiyahan ako. Masaya yata ako na nahihirapan akong mahalin siya mula sa kawalan. Teka, kung masaya ako kahit nahihirapan ako... hindi kaya mas mahal ko ang sarili ko kesa sa kanya? Kung pinipilit ko siyang magstay para maging masaya ako pero hindi naman siya masaya, hindi rin ako magiging masaya. Kung masaya siya na malaya siya at masaya ako na masaya siya, teka uli... ultimately, ako ang sumasaya sa lahat ng ito? Dapat akong maging masaya! Bakit hindi ako masaya? Masaya ba ako o may sayad na?

Le féminisme est une aventure collective, pour les femmes, pour les hommes, et pour les autres. Un révolution, bien en marche. Une vision du monde, un choix. Il ne s'agit pas d'opposer les petits avantages des femmes aux petits acquis des hommes mais bien de tout foutre en l'air.

How about this? Hong Kong had been appropriated by British drug pushers in the 1840s. We wanted Chinese silk, porcelain, and spices. The Chinese didn't want our clothes, tools, or salted herring, and who can blame them? They had no demand. Our solution was to make a demand, by getting large sections of the populace addicted to opium, a drug which the Chinese government had outlawed. When the Chinese understandably objected to this arrangement, we kicked the fuck out of them, set up a puppet government in Peking that hung signs on parks saying NO DOGS OR CHINESE, and occupied this corner of their country as an import base. Fucking godawful behavior, when you think about it. And we accuse them of xenophobia. It would be like the Colombians invading Washington in the early twenty-first century and forcing the White House to legalize heroin. And saying, "Don't worry, we'll show ourselves out, and take Florida while we're at it, okay? Thanks very much.

A man ain’t got to stand in church every Sunday to do God’s work.

Rape doesn't disturb the peace, it's already part and parcel of the city.

I’m in love, aren’t I? She thought she knew the answer by how much she wanted to be there. Wouldn’t have traded being there for any other location in the world. Wouldn’t have traded it for all the exotic destinations flaunted in Pan Am travel brochures. Not Tahiti, not Monte Carlo, not Hong Kong. No, she wanted to be here, in this ramshackle market not a ten-minute drive from her humdrum house and life. Except it wasn’t a humdrum life anymore, was it? No, I’m at the most exciting place on Earth. The center of the world. The Roman Forum during the reign of Augustus Caesar.

Because this ideal of the attractive but not whorish white woman, in a good marriage but not self-effacing, with a nice job but not so successful she outshines her man, slim but not neurotic over food, forever young without being disfigured by the surgeon’s knife, a radiant mother not overwhelmed by nappies and homework, who manages her home beautifully without becoming a slave to housework, who knows a thing or two but less than a man, this happy white woman who is constantly shoved under our noses, this woman we are all supposed to work hard to resemble – never mind that she seems to be running herself ragged for not much reward – I for one have never met her, not anywhere. My hunch is that she doesn’t exist.

Anti-sabbatical: A job taken with the sole intention of staying only for a limited period of time (often one year). The intention is usually to raise enough funds to partake in another, more personally meaningful activity such as watercolor sketching in Crete or designing computer knit sweaters in Hong Kong. Employers are rarely informed of intentions

You’ve got to be strong to get old.

a solitary middle-aged man in the August of life looking for a few more Aprils, an

You ain’t got to worry about your skin.” “I do worries about my skin. It covers my body.

Son, a blessing favors them that needs it. Don’t matter how it comes. It just matters that it does.

Dans la morale judéo-chrétienne, mieux vaut être prise de force que prise pour une chienne, on nous l'a assez répété.

He puffed out his pigeon chest and waddled across the room towards me. With his feet pointing outwards, he looked like a fat duck with a grievance.

¿Por qué nadie ha inventado el equivalente a Ikea para cuidar a los niños, el equivalente de Macintosh para hacer las tareas domésticas? La organización de la colectividad sigue siendo una prerrogativa masculina.

This was fresh, rich, heavenly, succulent, soft, creamy, kiss-my-ass, cows-gotta-die-for-this, delightfully salty, moo-ass, good old white folks cheese, cheese to die for, cheese to make you happy, cheese to beat the cheese boss, cheese for the big cheese, cheese to end the world,

...el día que los hombres tengan miedo de que les laceren la polla a golpe de cúter cuando acosen a una chica, seguro que de repente sabrán controlar mejor sus pasiones –masculinas- y comprender lo que quiere decir –no-.

Why we got to have the police around every time we has a simple party? Ya'll don't watch out for us. Y'all watch over us. I don't see y'all out there standing over the white folks in Park Slope when they has their block parties

Dati naman akong masaya bago pa siya dumating. Mas sumaya nga lang nung dumating siya. Pero bakit nung umalis siya, hindi na ako naging kasinsaya gaya ng dati bago pa siya dumating? Hindi kaya dahil imbes na isama ko siya sa daigdig ko, siya ang ginawa kong daigdig? Kung naging masaya ako bago siya dumating, pwede rin akong maging masaya kahit wala na siya. Hindi siya ang dahilan ng pag-inog ng mundo ko, hindi rin dapat siya ang dahilan ng pagtigil nito.

There seems to be an audience that demands everything be explained to them that everything be easy. And I don t think that s doing us any good as a culture. The ease with which we can accomplish or conjure any possible imaginable scenario through CGI is almost directly proportionate to how uninterested we re becoming in all of this. I can remember Ray Harryhausen s animated skeletons in Jason and the Argonauts. I can remember Willis O Brien s King Kong. I can remember being awed at the artistry that had made those things possible. Yes I knew how it was done. But it looked so wonderful. These days I can see half a million Orcs coming over a hill and I am bored. I am not impressed at all. Because frankly I could have gotten someone a passerby on the street who could have gotten the same effect if you d given them half a million dollars to do it. It removes artistry and imagination and places money in the driver s seat and I think it s a pretty straight equation—that there is an inverse relationship between money and imagination.

Monster stories are powerful. They explore prejudice, rejection, anger and every imaginable negative aspect of living in society. However, only half of society is reflected in the ranks of the people who create these monsters. Almost every single iconic monster in film is male and was designed by a man: the Wolfman, Frankenstein, Dracula, King Kong. The emotions and problems that all of them represent are also experienced by women, but women are more likely to see themselves as merely the victims of these monsters. Women rarely get to explore on-screen what it's like to be a giant pissed-off creature. Those emotions are written off. If a woman is angry or upset, she'll be considered hysterical and too emotional. One of the hardest things about misogyny in the film industry isn't facing it directly, it's having to tamp down your anger about it so that when you speak about the problem, you'll be taken seriously. Women don't get to stomp around like Godzilla. Someone will just ask if you're on your period.

HOO JAMES SHIN HOO. Born: James Hoo in Chicago. Age: 50. Added Shin to his name when he went into the restaurant business because it sounded more Chinese. First wife died of cancer five years ago. Married again last year. Has one son: Douglas. SUN LIN HOO. Age: 28. Born in China. Immigrated from Hong Kong two years ago. Gossip: James Hoo married her for her 100-year-old sauce. DOUGLAS HOO (called Doug). Age: 18. High-school track star. Is competing in Saturday’s track meet against college milers. Westing connection: Hoo sued Sara Westing over the invention of the disposable paper diaper. Case never came to court (Westing disappeared). Settled with the company last year for $25,000. Thinks he was cheated. Latest invention: paper innersoles.

while in Manhattan the buses ran on time, the lights never went out, the death of a single white child in a traffic accident was a page one story, while phony versions of black and Latino life ruled the Broadway roost, making white writers rich—West Side Story, Porgy & Bess, Purlie Victorious—and on it went, the whole business of the white man’s reality lumping together like a giant, lopsided snowball, the Great American Myth, the Big Apple, the Big Kahuna, the City That Never Sleeps, while the blacks and Latinos who cleaned the apartments and dragged out the trash and made the music and filled the jails with sorrow slept the sleep of the invisible and functioned as local color.

Porque el ideal de la mujer blanca, seductora pero no puta, bien casada pero no a la sombra, que trabaja pero sin demasiado éxito para no aplastar a su hombre, delgada pero no obsesionada con la alimentación, que parece indefinidamente joven pero sin dejarse desfigurar por la cirugía estética, madre realizada pero no desbordada por los pañales y por las tareas del colegio, buen ama de casa pero no sirvienta, cultivada pero menos que un hombre, esta mujer blanca, feliz que nos ponen delante de los ojos, esa a la que deberíamos hacer el esfuerzo de parecernos (...) nunca me la he encontrado en ninguna parte. Es posible incluso que no exista.

Pearl Harbor Address to the Nation Delivered on December 8, 1941 Mr. Vice President, Mr. Speaker, Members of the Senate, and of the House of Representatives: Yesterday, December 7th, 1941 -- a date which will live in infamy -- the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan. The United States was at peace with that nation and, at the solicitation of Japan, was still in conversation with its government and its emperor looking toward the maintenance of peace in the Pacific. Indeed, one hour after Japanese air squadrons had commenced bombing in the American island of Oahu, the Japanese ambassador to the United States and his colleague delivered to our Secretary of State a formal reply to a recent American message. And while this reply stated that it seemed useless to continue the existing diplomatic negotiations, it contained no threat or hint of war or of armed attack. It will be recorded that the distance of Hawaii from Japan makes it obvious that the attack was deliberately planned many days or even weeks ago. During the intervening time, the Japanese government has deliberately sought to deceive the United States by false statements and expressions of hope for continued peace. The attack yesterday on the Hawaiian islands has caused severe damage to American naval and military forces. I regret to tell you that very many American lives have been lost. In addition, American ships have been reported torpedoed on the high seas between San Francisco and Honolulu. Yesterday, the Japanese government also launched an attack against Malaya. Last night, Japanese forces attacked Hong Kong. Last night, Japanese forces attacked Guam. Last night, Japanese forces attacked the Philippine Islands. Last night, the Japanese attacked Wake Island. And this morning, the Japanese attacked Midway Island. Japan has, therefore, undertaken a surprise offensive extending throughout the Pacific area. The facts of yesterday and today speak for themselves. The people of the United States have already formed their opinions and well understand the implications to the very life and safety of our nation. As commander in chief of the Army and Navy, I have directed that all measures be taken for our defense. But always will our whole nation remember the character of the onslaught against us. No matter how long it may take us to overcome this premeditated invasion, the American people in their righteous might will win through to absolute victory. I believe that I interpret the will of the Congress and of the people when I assert that we will not only defend ourselves to the uttermost, but will make it very certain that this form of treachery shall never again endanger us. Hostilities exist. There is no blinking at the fact that our people, our territory, and our interests are in grave danger. With confidence in our armed forces, with the unbounding determination of our people, we will gain the inevitable triumph -- so help us God. I ask that the Congress declare that since the unprovoked and dastardly attack by Japan on Sunday, December 7th, 1941, a state of war has existed between the United States and the Japanese empire.

Isn’t it something,” Hettie said softly, “what ol’ New York really is? We come here to be free and find life’s worse here than back home. The white folks here just color it different. They don’t mind you sitting next to ’em on the subway, or riding the bus in the front seat, but if you asks for the same pay, or wants to live next door, or get so beat down you don’t wanna stand up and sing about how great America is, they’ll bust down on you so hard pus’ll come out your ears.

Sin embargo, como chica por la que los hombres se interesan poco estoy rabiosa, mientras todos me explican que ni siquiera debería estar ahí. Pero siempre hemos existido. Aunque nunca se habla de nosotras en las novelas de hombres, que sólo imaginan mujeres con las que querrían acostarse. Siempre hemos existido, pero nunca hemos hablado. Incluso hoy que las mujeres publican muchas novelas, raramente encontramos personajes femeninos cuyo aspecto físico sea desagradable o mediocre, incapaces de amar a los hombres o de ser amadas. Por el contrario, a las heroínas de la literatura contemporánea les gustan los hombres, los encuentran fácilmente, se acuestan con ellos en dos capítulos, se corren en cuatro líneas y a todas les gusta el sexo. La figura de la pringada de la feminidad me resulta más que simpática: es esencial. Del mismo modo que la figura del perdedor social, económico o político. Prefiero los que no consiguen lo que quieren, por la buena y simple razón de que yo misma tampoco lo logro. Y porque, en general, el humor y la invención están de nuestro lado. Cuando no se tiene lo que hay que tener para chulearse, se es a menudo más creativo. Yo, como chica, soy más bien King Kong que Kate Moss.

Je suis furieuse contre une société qui m'a éduquée sans jamais m'apprendre à blesser un homme s'il m'écarte les cuisses de forces, alors que cette même société m'a inculqué l'idée que c'était un crime dont je ne devais pas me remettre. Et je suis surtout folle de rage qu'en face de trois hommes, une carabine et piégée dans une forêt dont on ne peut s'échapper en courant, je me sente encore aujourd'hui coupable de ne pas avoir eu le courage de nous défendre avec un petit couteau.

¿cuántos artículos en los últimos veinte años se han escrito sobre las mujeres que dan miedo a los hombres, sobre las que se han quedado solas, las que han sido castigadas por su ambición o su singularidad? Como si ser viuda, estar sola o abandonada en tiempos de guerra, o ser maltratadafuera una invención reciente. Siempre hemos tenido que arreglárnoslas sin la ayuda de nadie

After practice on lazy summer afternoons, he’d gather the kids around and tell stories about baseball players long dead, players from the old Negro leagues with names that sounded like brands of candy: Cool Papa Bell, Golly Honey Gibson, Smooth Rube Foster, Bullet Rogan, guys who knocked the ball five hundred feet high into the hot August air at some ballpark far away down south someplace, the stories soaring high over their heads, over the harbor, over their dirty baseball field, past the rude, red-hot projects where they lived. The Negro leagues, Sport said, were a dream. Why, Negro league players had leg muscles like rocks.

Ed Lim’s daughter, Monique, was a junior now, but as she’d grown up, he and his wife had noted with dismay that there were no dolls that looked like her. At ten, Monique had begun poring over a mail-order doll catalog as if it were a book–expensive dolls, with n ames and stories and historical outfits, absurdly detailed and even more absurdly expensive. ‘Jenny Cohen has this one,’ she’d told them, her finger tracing the outline of a blond doll that did indeed resemble Jenny Cohen: sweet faced with heavy bangs, slightly stocky. 'And they just made a new one with red hair. Her mom’s getting it for her sister Sarah for Hannukkah.’ Sarah Cohen had flaming red hair, the color of a penny in the summer sun. But there was no doll with black hair, let alone a face that looked anything like Monique’s. Ed Lim had gone to four different toy stores searching for a Chinese doll; he would have bought it for his daughter, whatever the price, but no such thing existed. He’d gone so far as to write to Mattel, asking them if there was a Chinese Barbie doll, and they’d replied that yes, they offered 'Oriental Barbie’ and sent him a pamphlet. He had looked at that pamphlet for a long time, at the Barbie’s strange mishmash of a costume, all red and gold satin and like nothing he’d ever seen on a Chinese or Japanese or Korean woman, at her waist-length black hair and slanted eyes. I am from Hong Kong, the pamphlet ran. It is in the Orient, or Far East. Throughout the Orient, people shop at outdoor marketplaces where goods such as fish, vegetables, silk, and spices are openly displayed. The year before, he and his wife and Monique had gone on a trip to Hong Kong, which struck him, mostly, as a pincushion of gleaming skyscrapers. In a giant, glassed-in shopping mall, he’d bought a dove-gray cashmere sweater that he wore under his suit jacket on chilly days. Come visit the Orient. I know you will find it exotic and interesting. In the end he’d thrown the pamphlet away. He’d heard, from friends with younger children, that the expensive doll line now had one Asian doll for sale – and a few black ones, too – but he’d never seen it. Monique was seventeen now, and had long outgrown dolls.

Porque el ideal de la mujer blanca, seductora pero no puta, bien casada pero no a la sombra, que trabaja pero sin demasiado éxito para no aplastar a su hombre, delgada pero no obsesionada con la alimentación, que parece indefinidamente joven pero sin dejarse desfigurar por la cirugía estética, madre realizada pero no desbordada por los pañales y por las tareas del colegio, buen ama de casa pero no sirvienta, cultivada pero menos que un hombre, esta mujer blanca feliz que nos ponen delante de los ojos, esa a la que deberíamos hacer el esfuerzo de parecernos, a parte del hecho de que parece romperse la crisma por poca cosa, nunca me la he encontrado en ninguna parte. Es posible incluso que no exista.

Not being able to see this, culture-based explanations for economic development have usually been little more than ex post facto justifications based on a 20/20 hindsight vision. So, in the early days of capitalism, when most economically successful countries happened to be Protestant Christian, many people argued that Protestantism was uniquely suited to economic development. When Catholic France, Italy, Austria and southern Germany developed rapidly, particularly after the Second World War, Christianity, rather than Protestantism, became the magic culture. Until Japan became rich, many people thought East Asia had not developed because of Confucianism. But when Japan succeeded, this thesis was revised to say that Japan was developing so fast because its unique form of Confucianism emphasized co-operation over individual edification, which the Chinese and Korean versions allegedly valued more highly. And then Hong Kong, Singapore, Taiwan and Korea also started doing well, so this judgement about the different varieties of Confucianism was forgotten. Indeed, Confucianism as a whole suddenly became the best culture for development because it emphasized hard work, saving, education and submission to authority. Today, when we see Muslim Malaysia and Indonesia, Buddhist Thailand and even Hindu India doing well economically, we can soon expect to encounter new theories that will trumpet how uniquely all these cultures are suited for economic development (and how their authors have known about it all along).

Je ne ressens pas la moindre honte de ne pas être une super bonne meuf. En revanche, je suis verte de rage qu'en tant qu fille qui intéresse peu les hommes, on cherche sans cesse à me faire savoir que je ne devrais même pas être là. On a toujours existé. Même s'il n'est pas question de nous dans les romans d'hommes, qui n'imaginent que des femmes avec qui ils voudraient coucher. On a toujours existé, on n'a jamais parlé. Même aujourd'hui que les femmes publient beaucoup de romans, on rencontre rarement de personnage féminins aux physiques ingrats ou médiocres, inaptes à aimer les hommes ou à s'en faire aimer. Au contraire les héroines contemporaines aiment les hommes, les rencontrent facilement couchent avec eux en deux chapitres, elles jouissent en quatre lignes et elles aiment toutes le sexe. La figure de la looseuse de la féminité m'est plus que sympathique, elle m'est essentielle.

No surprises" is the motto of the franchise ghetto, its Good Housekeeping seal, subliminally blazoned on every sign and logo that make up the curves and grids of light that outline the Basin. The people of America, who live in the world's most surprising and terrible country, take comfort in that motto. Follow the loglo outward, to where the growth is enfolded into the valleys and the canyons, and you find the land of the refugees. They have fled from the true America, the America of atomic bombs, scalpings, hip-hop, chaos theory, cement overshoes, snake handlers, spree killers, space walks, buffalo jumps, drive-bys, cruise missiles, Sherman's March, gridlock, motorcycle gangs, and bun-gee jumping. They have parallel-parked their bimbo boxes in identical computer-designed Burbclave street patterns and secreted themselves in symmetrical sheetrock shitholes with vinyl floors and ill-fitting woodwork and no sidewalks, vast house farms out in the loglo wilderness, a culture medium for a medium culture. The only ones left in the city are street people, feeding off debris; immigrants, thrown out like shrapnel from the destruction of the Asian powers; young bohos; and the technomedia priesthood of Mr. Lee's Greater Hong Kong. Young smart people like Da5id and Hiro, who take the risk of living in the city because they like stimulation and they know they can handle it.

J’écris de chez les moches, pour les moches, les vieilles, les camionneuses, les frigides, les mal baisées, les imbaisables, les hystériques, les tarées, toutes les exclues du grand marché à la bonne meuf. Et je commence par là pour que les choses soient claires : je ne m’excuse de rien, je ne viens pas me plaindre. Je n’échangerais ma place contre aucune autre parce qu’être Virginie Despentes me semble être une affaire plus intéressante à mener que n’importe quelle autre affaire. Je trouve ça formidable qu’il y ait aussi des femmes qui aiment séduire, qui sachent séduire, d’autres se faire épouser, des qui sentent le sexe et d’autres le gâteau du goûter des enfants qui sortent de l’école. Formidable qu’il y en ait de très douces, d’autres épanouies dans leur féminité, qu’il y en ait de jeunes, très belles, d’autres coquettes et rayonnantes. Franchement, je suis bien contente pour toutes celles à qui les choses telles qu’elles sont conviennent. C’est dit sans la moindre ironie. Il se trouve simplement que je ne fais pas partie de celles-là. Bien sûr que je n’écrirais pas ce que j’écris si j’étais belle, belle à changer l’attitude de tous les hommes que je croise. C’est en tant que prolotte de la féminité que je parle, que j’ai parlé hier et que je recommence aujourd’hui (p. 9-10).

J’écris donc d’ici, de chez les invendues, les tordues, celles qui ont le crâne rasée, celles qui ne savent pas s’habiller, celles qui ont peur de puer, celles qui ont les chicots pourris, celles qui ne savent pas s’y prendre, celles à qui les hommes ne font pas de cadeau, celles qui baiseraient n’importe qui voulant bien d’elles, les grosses putes, les petites salopes, les femmes à chatte toujours sèche, celles qui ont un gros bides, celles qui voudraient être des hommes, celles qui se prennent pour des hommes, celles qui rêvent de faire hardeuses, celles qui n’en ont rien à foutre des mecs mais que leurs copines intéressent, celles qui ont un gros cul, celles qui ont les poils drus et bien noirs et qui ne vont pas se faire épiler, les femmes brutales, bruyantes, celles qui cassent tout sur leur passage, celles qui n’aiment pas les parfumeries, celles qui se mettent du rouge trop rouge, celles qui sont trop mal foutues pour pouvoir se saper comme des chaudasses mais qui en crèvent d’envie, celles qui veulent porter des fringues d’hommes et la barbe dans la rue, celles qui veulent tout montrer, celles qui sont pudiques par complexe, celles qui ne savent pas dire non, celles qu’on enferme pour les mater, celles qui font peur, celles qui font pitié, celles qui ne font pas envie, celles qui ont la peau flasque, des rides plein la face, celles qui rêvent de se faire lifter, liposucer, péter le nez pour le refaire mais qui n’ont pas l’argent pour le faire, celles qui ne ressemblent à rien, celles qui ne comptent que sur elles-mêmes pour se protéger, celles qui ne savent pas être rassurantes, celles qui s’en foutent de leurs enfants, celles qui aiment boire jusqu’à se vautrer par terre dans les bars, celles qui ne savent pas se tenir.