Buckle-Down Economics

"Hoover? Like the suckie-thingy Lupita pushes around the ranch?"

And here it is, folks. The bottom has dropped out at Wall Street, leaving those of us on Roosevelt, 1st, and Main streets scratching our heads as to what it all means.

Well, I’m not sure if you knew this, but I don’t do economics.

Nor stocks.

Nor money.

What I do do is live on next to nothing, and keep it sexy through the Ramen times.


Believe me. I made it through five months in Buenos Aires on about $550/month.

Perhaps more impressive -- I lived in a shack rent-free in Punta del Diablo, Uruguay, earning the equivalent of $60/month while working at a hostel. Of course, the free meals provided by the hostel owner and the constantly overflowing patrons’ refrigerator made things easier -- but still. That’s quite a feat.


So, as your foreclosures loom in the horizon, and as you’ve still got those little faces to feed, and as you lose your jobs, take a page or two out of my book: Buckle-Down Economics for the Gluttonous Gringo.


After taxes, I make about $1,014 per month.

Rent is about $700.

Electricity runs me, we’ll say, about $64 per month.

This leaves me at about $250 per month, or:

$62.50 / week.


Before I go on, I’d like to stress that these numbers are 100% accurate. I am in no way kidding. I am currently living on these wages, this is affecting my graduate studies (not to mention all-around stress levels), and I will be living in these conditions for at least the next month and a half while figuring out loan possibilities -- and isn’t this just the greatest time to be in dire need of a loan?


In any event, I consider myself a bit of an expert on living meagerly, and I feel as if I could impart some knowledge to those of you in these tough times a-coming:


Broke-onomics, Or: Scrimpy Tips from Kempa

1) Public library -- Okay, the homeless don’t go there just to stay cool and hydrated. The library gives you endless hours of something to do. Honestly, it is an unending source of free amusement/education. I couldn’t even begin to tell you about the music I’ve burned onto my iTunes or the brilliant foreign DVDs I’ve borrowed from the public library. And don’t get me started on the literature.

2) Give plasma -- Actually, to quote a friend of mine today as I explained to him my monetary plight:

“Can’t you give plasma? Or semen? Or both -- at once?”

Turns out I can (at least in terms of the former). They give you money for plasma. I’ve never been able to give plasma as an undergraduate because the American Red Cross was always hounding me for my sweet, sweet A-negative blood. Well, in these tough times I have no qualms saying ‘up yours, American Red Cross!’ in favor of pawning off a pint or two of plasma.

3) Theft. I’ve never tried this one. As a humanist, I don’t enjoy the moral implications. What I will say, however, is that plenty of people in Buenos Aires got along just fine pilfering the pockets of the unsuspecting gringo. Just saying.

4) Water. The cool thing about water is that it’s free AND necessary. Honestly, other beverages are just glorified water. Just, like, think about it, man.

5) Making the best of freebies. For instance, as an ASU student, I get a free YMCA membership. As a member of the Y, I get a free cup of coffee every morning.

Boom-shacka-lacka.

6) Alternate forms of transportation. This one is funny because my bike tire has popped, rendering my $600 bike useless. Wait, no. That’s just depressing. In any event, ASU students have free city bus transportation as well.

Boom-goes-the-dynamite, as it were.

7) Cheap, carb-loaded food. As my aforementioned friend put it:

“Whenever I’m eating Ramen, I feel like I’ve been defeated. I mean… I’m defeated.”

So am I, man.

So am I.


Good luck, all.

Sigo comiendo el Ramen.


-- Kempar

¿Por qué no se bailan?

Oye, Mahmoud, I love it when you lead.

I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but things aren’t going so great. There have been two suicide bombings abroad in the past week. Our economy has finally begun its much-anticipated freefall. We owe China, among others, boatloads of money. We’re still in Iraq and Afghanistan. Russia doesn’t like us, and has made friends with a caustic (albeit harmless) Hugo Chavez. Bolivia’s president Evo Morales is blaming us for his civil scuffle currently taking place. Our Republican vice presidential candidate is an End-of-Days creationist. Our president is an End-of-Days creationist. David Foster Wallace killed himself. The drummer from that shitty 90’s preteen ‘punk’ band was in a plane crash. And all the while the world heats up in the most literal sense of the phrase. I mean, wow.

What can we do?

Well, I’m glad you asked. There is only one thing we can do:





Dance.



That’s right, dance.



Everybody dance, now.




Hey! What's wrong? You shy? Well, don’t be. I’ve got some crunk'd-out music videos to get you going. You‘ll like them. I swear. They’re starring some of our favorite people around.







First up: Mr. Bill HUSSEIN O’Reilly.



Before we get to grooving, did you catch O'Reilly a few years back on Inside Edition? Apparently Papa Bear had had a rough day. If you didn't catch the meltdown the first time around, please check out the above link before the music video below. Believe me when I say you need a primer for this YouTube gem. In any event, stretch before rocking out to this phat beat:




http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5j2YDq6FkVE




Oh.

Hell yes, Bill.

Dare I say he’s more gangster than Ludacris?


I hope you all are feeling better already. Dancing is often the best remedy for life’s worries.


Want to know how they get down in Latin America? Well, they get down with music that most people in the U.S. hate. It’s called reggaeton. You probably won't like it. The only reason I do is because it brings back memories of having no responsibility and staying out all night in South America dancing with latinas.

Do you remember when the king of Spain told Venezuelan president Hugo Chavez to shut up?


Yeah. It happened. Not the greatest thing to happen to the latin world. But, I suppose, nowhere near the worst.

In any event, here’s a bit of reggaeton-infused foreign diplomacy for all y’all:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NwswzwoA4pA&feature=related


You know, whether or not anyone appreciates that music or not, I think we can all agree that Chavez’s blank stare at the end of the video probably counts as the apex of his political career.


(Sidenote: this clip isn’t even my favorite parody of that unfortunate interaction. Ever see beaurocratic muppets prepare to throw down?)




And last, but in no way least, we have a music video by one of my favorite bands, The Electric Six. The name of the song is -- well, you’ll figure it out.

I’m told this video was banned in the U.S. and the U.K.

Land of the free, huh?:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vCZvYXwBlkk



All sweaty, sated, and happy?

Good.



¡ Hazlo en vivo!



-Kempar

Taking Back Coward

Semantics, 'n Terr'rists, 'n Bears -- Oh My!

***If you haven’t noticed, I won’t be sticking entirely with the latin theme. If there’s something I fancy the world needs to be lurned on, then god damnit, I’m gonna lurn y’all.***



Last Thursday was the seven-year anniversary of 9/11.

I spent that morning before my print journalism class perusing the news online. I read some first-person reflections reliving the day, watched Obama and McCain together at the Ground Zero ceremony, and tried, for the umpteenth time, to see the alleged link between Al-Qaeda and Saddam Hussein.

And then I came across this CNN blog entry by Gary Tuchman on the Anderson Cooper 360 blog.

--Now, there’s not too much to say about 9/11 that hasn’t been said. And, I’m sure, there’s nothing I’ll say on here that hasn’t been said before. That said, I’m just proud of the picture at the top of this post.--

‘9/11: Cowards and courage’ is the title of Tuchman’s entry. It begins:

“For seven years, I have marveled at the utter cowardice of the 9/11 hijackers. Could there be anything lower than knowing you’re going to die, and deciding that you want to take as many innocent human beings who have families, hopes and dreams with you?”

Okay. First, I’ll answer your question, Gar-bear: no, there is nothing lower than that.

Second, and I say this with all due respect, buy a dictionary.

Cowardice? What about that description or about anything the hijackers did that day implies cowardice? Have I gone insane? Have we all forgotten the meaning of the word coward?

What the 9/11 hijackers did that day was a number of things: appalling, horrifying, inhumane, self-righteous, unforgivable, unfathomable.

None of these words, in my estimation, is vaguely synonymous with ‘coward’ or ‘cowardice.’

And I get it. People do bad (or, in this case, horrendous) things, other people get angry. People are called names, sometimes inaccurately, by these ‘other people.’ It happens every day. Ask any of my recent two-faced, conniving ex-girlfriends.

Maybe it’s my English degree coming to surface. I just don’t like words being used improperly.

That said, tell me if the hijackers’ actions that day would label them as follows:

-Webster.com -- coward (n) - “one who shows disgraceful fear or timidity”
-Dictionary.com -- coward (n) - “a person who lacks courage in facing danger, difficulty, opposition, pain, etc.; a timid or easily intimidated person.”

In my estimation, they don’t. I could be wrong, I guess. If you can find an entry in a respected dictionary somewhere with a definition correlating with the hijackers' actions that day, please show me. Until then, however, have some respect for the English language.



And, oh, I don’t know.

All I’m saying is use words correctly. Know what they mean.

I won’t call a dog a marmot. Don’t you call the 9/11 hijackers cowards.


Oh, and bin Laden?


Well, yeah.

He’s a big ol’ coward.




If this post offended you at all… well, at least I didn’t say this:

“We have been the cowards lobbing cruise missiles from 2,000 miles away. That's cowardly. Staying in the airplane when it hits the building, say what you want about it, it's not cowardly.”
- Bill Maher








Kempar -- out.

And Now, A Word From Our Despot

Fidel Got Game

I’ve recently entered the world of journalism. So far, it’s been a bit of a whirlwind:

The deadlines.
The information overload.
The broadcast news girls.

It’s blowing my mind.

One thing I’ve found really enjoyable is the fact that I can read news in Latin American periodicals that no one can easily find (let alone translate) here in the States. Case in point:

Fidel Castro regularly writes in Cuba’s national newspaper, La Granma. Of course, this is a state-run paper, and anything in it should be taken with a grain of salt. That said, an editorial from this quaint little island’s quaint little despot is nothing short of fascinating.

His column is titled ‘Reflexiones del Compañero Fidel’: Reflections from Comrade Fidel.

Fidel, dear comrade that he is, has written his most recent article, ‘Para el honor, Medalla de Oro,’ reflecting on the 2008 Beijing Summer Olympics.

I was pleased to find in this article that Fidel, much like myself, was appalled by the officiating in these Olympic games. ‘Wow,’ I thought, ‘Fidel and I have more in common than I originally believed. I no longer feel so awkwardly offended by his government officers’ overbearing presence on my visit to Havana -- which, if any US official asks, is purely fictional.’

But then I went on to read about which injustices he happened to find so appalling.

Fidel first addresses the actions of Cuban tae kwon do Olympian Ángel Valodia Matos. If you don’t recognize this name -- here’s a refresher:

http://www.ebaumsworld.com/video/watch/891018/

For the record, Homeslice here was disqualified for taking too much time to recover from an injury. You can see the clock. Time doesn’t lie. He did, in fact, take too much time. And he was disqualified. I don’t know. Perhaps I’m wrong. Perhaps referees give you some leeway to get back on your feet for this type of thing. I don’t pretend to know the intricacies of competitive tae kwon do.

Neither does Fidel. But he does flat-out disregard the event’s rules in favor of rhetoric:

“… Ángel Valodia Matos - Olympic champion from the Sydney games eight years ago - whose mother died while he competed and won the gold medal 20,000 kilometers from his country. Surprised by a decision that seemed totally unjust to him, he protested and kicked the referee. They had tried to buy his own trainer, he was inclined* and outraged. He couldn‘t contain himself.”

Really, man? Did you watch the tape? Even if ‘they’ really had tried to buy Matos’ trainer (something I wouldn‘t argue against for a second after watching these games), how did he not take liberties with the time allotted him to recover? Where is your argument that he wasn’t, in fact, disqualified?

“He protested and kicked the referee.”
Oh. Okay.
“He covered his mouth and sneezed.”
“He offered to buy her a drink.”

How can you state that so matter-of-factly?

Matos kicked a referee in the face. A Swedish referee, no less. Have you ever met a Swede you didn’t like? I defy you to find a Swede worth even a cupped ear.

So, yeah. Matos was expelled from international competitive tae kwon do for life, which does seem a bit extreme to me -- being expelled for acting too aggressively in an inherently aggressive sport. His trainer was expelled for life as well. And that’s ridiculous. I wish Fidel had put his two cents in on this one.



In any event, Castro procedes.

He says that judges robbed two Cubans in boxing matches, neither of which I saw. But I did see those guys fight earlier, and couldn’t put it better than Fidel myself: ‘they fought with dignity and valiance; they attacked constantly.’ Perhaps they were robbed of these medals. Perhaps not. Fidel says a Korean was treated similarly in a fight of his own.


After this Castro gives a spiel on the Cuban athletes’ valiant efforts in lovely form. And he’s damn right. There were plenty of Cuban athletes who performed well during this summer‘s Olympics. I love the ethic of Cuban athletes; how they can grow to be such masters with little to no funding behind them. They seem to grow into these exalted abilities simply for love of their respective games.



Fidel also has some rips against the world’s biggest little Super Power. My home. The U.S. of A.

I’ll spare you his rants on commercialism, but I will say he somehow managed to incorporate one into a paragraph on baseball, leaving open implications on what that has to say about the U.S.

Yeah.

This coming from the guy who tried to join the majors in his younger, less-revolutionary days.


He also lauds the Brazilian volleyball team that ‘overwhelmingly defeated’ the U.S. team and ‘gained primacy.’

Well, yeah. I’ll concede that one, Comandante.


Fidel didn’t comment on what I believed to be the real injustices in the games. The Chinese gymnasts that were clearly not 16? I mean, come on. I heard about terrible scores in other events as well, but nothing was worse than this injustice. And, after reading Fidel’s arguments, I don’t think I’d be able to argue for these unnamed events without a strong, strong dose of Americentrism. Perhaps it’s best I don’t. Perhaps it would have been best if he hadn’t.



Anyway. I hope you can read Spanish. This is a rich article, and it’s always enjoyable to listen to out-of-touch politicians of his or Bush’s ilk.


Let me end this with a nice little paragraph of Fidel gazing with hope to future Olympic games:
‘Let’s prepare ourselves for important future battles. Let us not leave ourselves coaxed by the smiles of London. In London there will be European chauvinism, corrupt officiating, the buying of muscles and minds, a cost that cannot be paid, and a strong dose of racism.’

Bien dicho, old man. Well said, indeed.







-----Some words may sometimes be difficult for me to translate directly. If that is ever the case, I will take whatever liberties I find necessary to make the word intelligible within its context, mark it with an asterisk, and add it to the end of my “thing’s” entry for anyone to translate on his/her own-----


*predispuesto

Introducciones

Que hacen, world?

I'm Kempa -- 24 years old.

I live in Phoenix, and will be earning my Master's in Mass Communications from ASU's Cronkite School in December of '09.

I like things.

One of those things is travel.

Another one is the Spanish language.

I have spent varying amounts of time in these Latin American destinations: Spain, Easter Island, Mexico, Argentina, Uruguay, Chile, Peru, and Ecuador.

The American government says I cannot go to Cuba, as spending my money there would count as defying sanctions our government still somehow has against them. So, for the sake of conversation, I'll concede that a glimpse at my passport will say I've entered Mexico's Quintana Roo twice one August week in 2006 with no real sign of leaving or, more importantly, entering another country. Figure that out.

I like the world. It's profoundly complex and pleasingly simple all at once. I try to see as much of it as I can -- pending funds.

That said, I returned to the states in April after nine months in South America to attend graduate school here in Phoenix. Now, I want you to picture the apartment of a guy who sold his car to jump continents and whose life has fit on his back the past 12 months.

I have a bed, a bike, and a lamp I found for free on Craigslist. I don't own a couch. I'm relearning how to do simple things like pay bills, return library books on time, and clean myself at least every three days.

I'm still making the transition. Believe me when I say that I sometimes wish I was still pretending I could surf back in Peru, listening to Brazilian music in my shack in Uruguay, or dodging muggers in the Buenos Aires neighborhood Montserrat. Don't get me wrong, Phoenix has plenty of muggers. But, I mean, there's no exotic second-language barrier for me. Come on, mugger. I want to be scared and a little confused.


In any event, this is my thing. It will have a latino twist to it. I will add to it on occasion. It should be interesting because, 1) I am pretty damn interesting, 2) I have a different perspective -- one that isn't quite here (the U.S.) or there (anywhere), and 3) Did I mention I don't own a couch?


And, yes, you read correctly: this is a thing. Not a blog. I always associated the word 'blog' with the burping noise people sometimes let out whilst vomiting. 'Thing' is so much more pleasing aesthetically and phonetically.


Hope you enjoy.