"Love is the answer - but while you're waiting for the answer, sex raises some pretty interesting questions" - Woody Allen

Oh Woody. Grow up.

OK, assholes. A lot of you think I'm full of shit, so I'll document it in writing.

I'm enlightened. Oh yes, laugh not, you immature retards - you, whose life is driven by the physically carnal and the spontaneous passion of hedonistic desire - this is no longer me! I'm all about something else.

I'm all about just holding a girl's hand that I truly care about (and not that clasping shit; I'm talking the real interlocking fingers kind), and maybe taking a walk down a moonlit river or through a tourist infested area before buying overpriced icecream after hours and retiring to over-indulgent cheese like "Love Actually."

You may be about middle period Liszt and the hedonistic harmonies of Rachmaninoff. Me? I'm all about the D900's, baby - I'm revamping my moral system to Opus. Posthumous's and 132's.

I'm enlightened; not driven by the necessity of desire and at the risk of sounding patronizing (ha), I am ABOVE you. Yes, read that again.

Grow up, bitches. Grow up.

A memorable Christmas Eve.

Richmond, Virginia: Looks like LA.

Oh Koreans. You know I love you guys. I kid, I kid.

I don't like to complain in real life - so I use this blog as a vehicle for bitching. Excuse me.

In the next two weeks, somehow I'll have to get an inhuman amount of notes ready. Mendelssohn d minor Trio, Rachmaninoff Cello Sonata, Debussy Cello Sonata, Brahms Quintet, Beethoven Magic Flute variations, Casado crap pieces for cello. How is this possible.

"A work of art is a stuffed crocodile." -Alfred Jarry, ridiculous writer of the Dada movement

This post will probably get me into a lot of trouble. Suffice it to say that despite the raucous content, I do truly believe that intimate association with an ethnic breed in no way justifies contempt. That being said....

I don't really like Koreans. Yes, I said it.

Sure, yes, all my closest friends are Korean and I love them all to death, but the stereotypes that stick to the ethnicity I'm sure even they would agree with - it's as if my friends are a bunch of numerous outliers on a disturbed-homogenized curve.

What don't I like? I don't like how the large majority of them at school are a waste of space; a disgusting influx of apathy where the social norm of acceptablity makes it cool to purposely misspell words, promote intellectual ignorance, and not give a shit about career, music, or life beyond the occassional noraebang, cheap immature romance over stale bottles of overpriced soju, and a blindly clueless Christian mentality that often has nothing to do with Christianity.

I don't like how the large majority of them overtly read K-Pop magazines in performance class in front of legendary professors and often I actually and sincerely wonder whether most of them ENJOY music. I mean, really. Do they? I don't like how most of them are here to get a degree for the marketability purpose of a better marriage, but you know what I really don't like?

I really don't like how I feel like I could take a humongous shit (I mean, really, the kind you get after a huge meal), scrape it out of the toilet, and drop it on a keyboard - and this would sound better than most of their music-making. Sitting in on my performance class on a tidal wave of an oceanic deluge of Koreans, I honestly feel like taking my own life by slitting my throat with a blunt spoon.

I don't like these things. I've always thought this. I just never say it, partly because some of the most amazing people in my life are Korean, and some of the most amazing musicians I know are Korean. That doesn't really eradicate my racisim.

At any rate, I'll probably delete this post sooner rather than later. But I just had to get it out of my system.

Is it really that cool to be dumb?

Schiphol Airport, Amsterdam:

There's a particularly Bohemian cafe in the Amsterdam Airport - I've never seen anything like it before in any other country.

It's a blueish epitome of the globally eclectic cultural mess, but it silently screams with a personable introspection of universal human emotion - it needs no spoken vernacular because every fool in the cafe sits by himself looking like he had just fought a war of attrition. Was I just another one of those pathetic souls, drinking another cup of coffee in a large European hub?

Germany disgruntles me. Why?

In a uniquely disgusting way, it always has. It´s the little things. I hate that I can´t find the @ sign on the computers, and that the keyboards are nearly identical with the slight exception of the reversed Y and Z. I hate the US Dollar which in turn, makes me pissed the hell off at the Euro, since I pay about 8 Euro in this country to get a meal that consists of a piece of shit with ketchup.

Am I too American? Perhaps. Does this country suck? Perhaps.

My third time in Germany. And this country sort of blows. Gute Nacht.