It was the Fourth of July and Gavin was having a little party. To start, it was me, Gav, and Black Sam. I brought a few things to the party, including my laptop, a confetti revolver, some snacks, and some fireworks.
First we saw this documentary “Oklahoma City” (about the bombings). It was pretty good, but Black Sam didn’t like it so we stopped it early. We had some hot dogs and spiced corn for dinner before the fireworks started. I chose the corn with the most spices on it, which ended up being a mistake and I had to take some off. Gavin stared throwing back some beers to get ready for the festivities.
When the fireworks were starting, we headed out to go watch, with our own fireworks in tow. Gavin lived on the beach in Oxnard, so the streets were lined up and down with people celebrating. We found some rocks to sit on near the water and watched the fireworks.
When the show was over, the real party began. We found a large group of teens and young adults hanging out near the parking lot on the beach. Gavin decided to wow them by running into a bathroom, lighting one of the giant box sparklers we had, running out, and setting it on the ground. It was an instant hit, everyone started hollering and jumping over the sparkler, seeing who could do the best mid-air trick. At one point this kid even grabbed the firework and ran through the crowd, but was forced to drop it as it burned his hand.
Soon, the cops pulled up and the crowd scattered. We tossed the remaining fireworks in the sand behind the bathrooms and left back to Gavin’s. We called up Nick who said he would come over later. Gavin put back some more beers and became exceptionally rowdy. He stated jumping around to some loud music with a beer in his hand, and me and Black Sam joined in. At some point Black Sam offhandedly mentioned that she could go for another hot dog.
Then, things took a turn for the insane. Gabin grabbed a shoe on his apartment floor and launched it like a football as hard as he could at his ceiling. It made a loud *THUMP*, which seemed to egg Gavin on. He loudly and gleefully exclaimed “THROW ANYTHING!” immediately before taking a skateboard off the wall and tossing that at the ceiling as well. The skateboard punctured a large hole in the ceiling about the size of a grapefruit, and sent debris flying across the room, as if a hand grenade had just gone off.
Recognizing the increasing rambunctiousness and potential negative consequences, Black Sam tried her best to calm Gavin down, but he insisted on becoming more destructive, repeating matter-of-factly “it’s my house, I paid for it, it’s my house, I paid for it.”
Gavin jumped a few times to gain momentum near his door before shoulder-checking into it akin to a hockey player. “Gavin! Gavin! Stop!” Black Sam attempted to plead. It gave Gabin momentary pause before he tried the maneuver again, this time from a greater distance. This time, the door window gave way, spilling shards of glass everywhere
“It’s my house, I paid for it, I get to do what I want,” Gavin explained.
At that point Nick arrived, and surveyed the now destroyed apartment. We explained to Nick the events that had transpired, and he was hesitant to even believe us at first, but when he saw just how drunk Gab now was, he knew we weren’t making it up.
The four of us danced around to some music for a bit more, with Gav putting back even more beers, barely able to keep himself from falling over. I made Nick eat one of the stale cake-pops that I had brought over by sneaking up and shoving it in his mouth. Every so often, Gabin would open the front door and toss firecrackers at some of his neighbors one floor below, who were talking outside.
Suddenly Gavin remembered that Black Sam wanted a hot dog earlier, so he stumbled his way to the kitchen, mumbling “I’m goonna make a hotdog. I’m gonna make a hotdoooog.”
Same immediately interjected “No! Gavin! You can’t! You’re too drunk!”
Nick grabbed Gavin around the torso and dragged him away from the stove and into the living room.
Gavin went limp and fell to the ground, slithering away while chanting in a high pitched voice “a fucken hah-daaaaaag, mofuckinhah-daaaaaag!”
He became adamant and started getting a pan out of his cupboard. “Gavin you’re going to burn yourself!” Sam warned.
“It’s my house I paid for it, and if anyone tried to stop me from making a hotdog they’re gonna leave!” Gavin warned.
As Gavin was about to turn on the stove, Nick and Black Sam managed to drag him back into his bedroom.
Suddenly Gab’s entire demeanor changed, he started struggling like a caught fish, trying to shake Nick off.
“FACK HYUUU, FACK HYUUUUU, FACK HYUUUUUUU!” he screamed as he ran through the house.
He took the frying pan that he previously put on the stove and tossed it by the handle across the kitchen.
He then ran into the living room and flipped an entire table filled with bottles, my laptop (which broke), and things things across the room. The table and everything on it crashed against the wall. Nick managed to catch up to Gavin and wrassle him to the ground.
While pinned, Gavin gave a beastly struggle while yelling ferally “FAACK HYUU, FACK OFFA ME! AAAAARG, GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”
We finally got him to calm down by agreeing to go for a walk on the beach with him. Black Sam was the most shaken up and stayed behind to recuperate.
When we made it to the beach, we went to find the fireworks that we stashed earlier. While we were picking them up we noticed a small Asian man walking towards us. He stopped about 10 feet away. We didn’t know if he wanted some fireworks too or what. We kept walking and picking up more, and the man followed us again, stopping 10 feet away.
Finally he spoke up “Hey are you guys trying to shoot fireworks at my friends? I don’t care that you got them, I have a mortar in my pocket, I just want to make sure you’re not trying to shoot my friends.”
The three of us were very confused “Uhhh, no, we’re not trying to shoot your friends.” We assured him.
“Oh, okay,” he said before walking off.
We shot some roman candles over the ocean and calmed down Gabin, before heading back. When we got back to Gabs, We got Gab into bed and Black Sam made him eat a hamburger bun and drink some water (which he spilled all over himself). Gab finally fell asleep so me and Nick left him with Black Sam and took off.
It was the most memorable Fourth of July I have ever experienced.
I decided to write this a few weeks ago when I noticed a more starkly growing divide in people’s views on the world. Particularly, I noticed that some people were pigeon-holing each other into one of a few bland viewpoints and deciding themselves why other people thought a certain way (usually for negative reasons). People trust me to be the logical voice in heated debates, and since I’ve been proven right time and time again, it was sort of an obligation for me to write about some subjects that have been getting some particular attention lately.
The first thing I want to talk about is identity, and it segways into the other things nicely. In the past identity might have been something that you “are,” but I’ve seen it more recently become something that you “use” or “be.” It used to be that one’s culture, appearance, or background is what others sort of “heaped on” to the individual, and that’s still true in a lot of cases, but the difference I’m seeing is the ratio of that to people actively defining themselves as something and seeking to be stereotyped for it.
I spend a decent amount of time on Twitter, (mainly because it’s one of the few social media sites I haven’t been banned from yet), and I’ve noticed a few trends: It starts with fun trendy things like “X identity breaks the internet,” “Y identity’s do it better.” Certain types will cling to and accumulate these badge-like labels on themselves. On profiles I’ve seen an increase in labeling one’s self based on identity rather than personality or characteristics. Instead of “I like X,” or “My hobbies are Y,” I see an increase of “I /am/ an X ethnicity, Y skin-color, Z sexual orientation,” as if this set of identities is trusted to present the person in a greater capacity than their individual characteristics. On top of that, the labels themselves that one sticks to themselves I’ve seen get more specific and more numerous. I think part of it is because that with how connected we are, we are finding that we aren’t all that different, and it’s increasingly harder to stand out from a crowd. The harder one can push this illusion of uniqueness through specific and extreme identities, the more interesting one can seem to be. I call this sort of thing a trend of “hyper-identity,” where one actively seeks to make themselves as “exclusive” as possible.
One controversial figure that often gets brought up in this subject is Milo Yiannopoulos. I’ve heard him say that in the modern age, suffering is so scarce that it has become a form of currency, and to create an illusion that one has suffering, they will use their identity as a tool. Milo himself uses identity in a similar way, however. When faced with accusations of racism or sexism he will often repeat the line “I like to suck black cocks,” which is sort of his own spin on the “I can’t be racist, my best friend is black,” line.
Why is this tactic attempted in the first place, however? For some people, an identity feels like a permission-slip to express thoughts that anyone should be allowed to express anyway.
One thing I find interesting is the concept as “passing” for one identity or another. In certain cases, when one can convince others that they are, or at least are more of than they are, a certain identity, they gain some sort of benefit or status.
In the past we had former black slaves or their descendants, if they had light enough skin, attempting to and sometimes having success at, passing as a white person. This would have given them more access and a higher position in society. This sort of passing-for-white(r) still exists in some cultures, and it goes so far as to have warranted a market demand for skin-bleaching products. Out of this sort of thing we get the stereotypical phrase some black woman get that they are “too pretty for a dark skinned woman.”
At the same time, we see something else happening, the difference being while I see the former phenomena deceasing over time, I see this slowly increasing over time: “white” people attempting to pass or emphasizing being something else. One prominent example of this is I’ve seen a lot of news about is Nkechi Diallo (formerly Rachel Dolezal), who identified as black.
I’ve also heard a joke that goes as follows: “What do you call 64 white people in a room? One full-blooded Native American.” The joke is that white people tend to be eager to state any Native-American heritage they have, even if it is small (1/64 in the case of the joke).
Now throughout history in areas where non-heterosexuals are marginalized, such as the US south, we’ve seen gay people attempt to pass as straight, sometimes even going as far as getting heterosexually married and starting a family, only to “come out” in later life.
There is also a stereotype that in order to advance one’s carreer in a Hollywood-related field one should pretend to be homosexual.
If we assume that in general people are logical beings, they only do what has a net positive value in utility. We have to ask the question “What would cause someone who is A to identify as B, or B as A, and what is the reason for the shifting in most desirable identities to be throughout time? Are we defacto or dejure creating a heirarchy of identities, and does that heirarchy change depending on location?”
Next I want to talk a little bit about my personal political views. Now I know I already made a blog about the responsibilities of a society and already touched on a lot of politics, which was met with great acclaim, but I’d been thinking about the specific role of government so I’ll expand a bit on that.
Now I’m liberal libertarian, or “3rd quadrant” on the political spectrum. Let me tell you what this means to me: I don’t believe in any type of enforced moralism. What that means is I don’t think that something that affects no one but one’s self can be considered a crime.
The role that I think government should have in one’s life is to make sure that they are protected from the consequences of other’s actions which they did not consent to. In other words, it should make sure the rice I’m buying isn’t actually made of plastic. It should make sure that no one is benefiting off of destroying a shared resource. A business should be taxed and subsidised appropriately such that the bottom line reflects the true cost to society. In other words, if one makes a widget for $1, sells it for $2, and creates $20 of pollution in the process, an unregulated free market says “do this, it is creating $1 of value per widget,” while each widget made is actually destroying $19 of value. It is the government’s job to reflect that “true cost” on the businesses.
There’s a lot of contention today about the role of countries, especially western countries, in regards to the refugees of other countries. This is an issue where I don’t think that we can objectively determine the right answer, like we can do with abortion.
Now don’t get me wrong, I believe that helping refugees is the “good” choice, I just also think that we as a country are under no obligation to be the “good guys.” It is a value judgment of a society whether they are willing to take on the added responsibility of helping others or not. Before WWII, the US did turn away a boat full of Jewish refugees, many of whom ended up dying as a result. In the allegory of the good Samaritan, we were the one of the people who kept walking. In essence, we have to choose between what’s the good thing to do, and what is best for “me.”
Lastly I want to get into nationalism and globalism. Within a society, the concept of specialization acts sort of like a “utility multiplier.” If there are n people, and everyone does 1/n of every job, then each job will be done at the efficiency of the average skill of all people in the society. If we assign each person to a job they have comparative advantage at, the efficiency increases toward maximum for the society. The same is true for countries. Countries have different types of lands, different cultural values, and different levels of education and skills which lends themselves to particular tasks. If each country acts in the global interest and allows the free market to determine what it has the most comparative advantage of doing, eventually the earth as a system reaches maximum utility.
Because of this, the optimal strategy is for all countries to adopt full globalistic policies. The problems only arise when human greed and shortsightedness are taken into account. We as humans naturally see some jobs are more prestigious than others. We want to believe that we are the best at everything, and therefore we might choose an inferior domestically-made product, which slightly disrupts the path of maximum efficiency.
At the same time, utility gains are not evenly spread out. Due to this, for a given country A, they might actually stand to have a utility increase if they can unnaturally force themselves into a different role, even if it causes a utility decrease of greater magnitude for the global system.
Businesses force a sort of prisoner’s dilemma on to countries. Business are made of people, but act like machines, they have only the goal of making the most money, and so we must assume that’s how they’ll behave. If all countries in the world demanded the exact same working conditions and environmental protections, then each would have a fair shot at attracting business and businesses would fall wherever most efficient; in this case, all countries win. If country A decides that it will settle for lower working conditions and fewer environmental protections than country B, then country A will have not only the businesses that would normally fall on to them, but also some that would have normally gone to B. In this case, A wins by having an abundance of business, generating more wealth for themselves, while B loses. If B then retaliates by doing the same thing, lowing its own standards, then businesses once again choose wherever is most efficient between the two, only this time, both A and B have lower standards of living than they normally would; in this case, both countries lose and businesses win.
In any case, we as humans are tribalistic beings, and we want to blame some “other” for our problems. Because of this tendency, leaders who play towards nationalism will always have an innate advantage over those who do not during elections. We like to believe that we’re being cheated out of our rightful slice of the pie, and that even if global utility decreases, our utility will increase once we get the portion that we are supposed to be getting.
Erika and I hadn’t hung out for a while, so before I left for Winter Break, she decided to come visit San Jose for a few days to hang out.
First we went to hang out at Target, because she wanted to get new hipster gloves that let you use a touchscreen phone while wearing them. I suggested she just go with the classic hobo-style fingerless gloves, but she wasn’t too keen on the idea. While we were there, we checked out some necklaces and Erika told me about how in-fashion the chevron was.
We decided to have a snack at Starbucks. Erika wasn’t sure what to get, so I suggested this hot Italian sandwich; it turned out to be the best choice.
Next we went to my place to watch a movie. I knew that Erika liked Harry Potter, so I suggested this movie Imperium, which starred Daniel Radcliffe who played Harry Potter. Erika agreed, but little did she know the movie was going to be much more than she bargained for.
The next day we decided to check out Christmas in the Park (a first-time experience for me). While there, we tried some of the famous “Snowman Hot Chocolate,” which tasted amazing. I thought the little plastic snowman on top was edible and almost ate it! The weather was really cold, so the hot chocolate was much needed warmth.
We looked for some food to get next. We passed some fancy-looking hot dogs, but Erika wanted to check out some type of meat she saw while we were driving around earlier looking for a parking space. Turns out the meat she saw frying was even more hot dogs, so we decided to get some. They were wrapped in bacon and topped with onions and more. The guy said “ten dollars,” and Erika tried to give him a debit card but it was cash only. Neither of us were carrying cash, and the guy said to just take the dogs for free, but Erika literally went over to the nearest ATM and withdrew some cash so we could give some to the guy.
After that we walked around and looked at tall the trees decorated by the various local organizations. I noticed one of the trees decorated by a church, (the specific one I forgot), had a gay-pride rainbow flag planted near its base. I made sure to point this out to Erika and rub her nose in it with great glee. (She had a very conservative religious view on homosexuality which I often took jabs at her for.)
The next morning Erika came and picked me up to come to her fancy hotel to try the complimentary breakfast. We had bacon, eggs, potatoes, salsa, yogurt, and juice. As we were eating I asked her how she slept last night in her hotel. She said she slept pretty good, so I said “mas o menos?” (more or less), and she agreed.
Little did we know there was a lady eating next to us with like five heavy luggage bags and when she heard that phrase she immediately got up and started talking to me in Spanish. Now I’m nowhere near conversation level fluent, so I had to look back and forth between the lady and Erika to get her to translate what the lady was trying to say to me. The lady could plainly see this but insisted on speaking to me the whole time instead of Erika, which made it extra confusing.
So as it turns out the lady wanted me to help carry her bags to her husband who was outside somewhere, (they didn’t let people into the breakfast room after 9AM). So I agreed to carry the bags but I was like “the door better not lock behind me once I go out.”
Well luckily the husband was waiting right outside the breakfast room so I was able to pass off the bags to him without letting the door close.
After breakfast Erika went to go visit some old friends in San Jose, but later that afternoon we decided to meet up again one last time before she left. We decided to take a trip to Hobags, (local slang for “House of Bagels”), which is a well known place popular with the locals. I’d never been there before so it was going to be a real treat for me.
Well we got there and they had like ten different types of bagels and twenty different types of cream cheeses. Erika got some cinnamon bagel with some fancy cream cheese. I got a cheese bagel with standard cream cheese. To my surprise it was very warm and soft. I’d never experienced a bagel like this before. In my previous experience with bagels, they’d all been room temperature and somewhat tough. I can definitely see why that place is popular with the locals.
All in all the weekend was a string of crazy adventures and first time experiences.
For weeks we’d been planning to have the Cajun Cookout as a sort of after-party from Thanksgiving, only the Cajun Cookout would be a gathering of the Boyos. It had been planned that we would deep fry five pounds worth of crabs in Kyle’s 5 gallon deep fryer, as well as a whole medley of assorted snacks we would also deep fry.
The day of the cookout, we first did some shopping at four different grocery stores to find the most fitting dishes for the event. To truly have an authentic Boyos’ Cajun Cookout we would need some iconic seafood and lots of spice.
I was tasked with acquiring the crab. I found a suitable very large crab at Winco, but it was already cooked. I asked the lady if we would still be able to deep fry it, but she said the way for one to serve it would be simply heating it via steaming.
So I got back to the house with the crab and was joined by Will, Jake, Kimmy, Kyle, Nick, and Jimmy. Kyle had brought two bottles of fancy champagne and Nick brought some Fireball whiskey. We all went out into the back where I had the honor of shaking up and spraying the first bottle of champagne all over the group. After the first bottle was gone we poured the second bottle and each drank a glass.
I broke out some tortilla chips and a bowl of queso blanco dip. When I brought it into the room for the group to try, Kyle asked “is that pancake batter?” From then on we always referred to the dip as pancake batter and convinced people to try it under the guise that it really was pancake batter.
I brought out the crab and showed everyone just how big it was. I explained how it had to be heated via steaming, but no one was sure exactly how to do that. My dad suggested using the method he uses to steam his vegetables: put it in a container with a thin layer of water, cover it with plastic, and microwave it for 15 minutes.
It worked well in heating up the crab, but it also caused much of the crab juices to spill out into the container. The next problem was figuring out just how to eat the crab. We were able to use a nutcracker to crack open the legs and claws fairly well despite our inexperience. I personally managed to get Kimmy, (who was somewhat reluctant), to try some.
The real challenge was figuring out how to get into the torso and which pieces of it were actually edible. After much struggling, we used a hammer and just wailed on it, caving the shell into the torso and spilling juices everywhere. Everyone was very interested in the inner workings of the crab, which, along with the bits of shell pieces now strewn over the torso, caused the crab to quickly change from meal to science project. We each took turns probing and prodding the various organs and pieces of the crab with great curiosity. Somehow in the mix both Kyle and Will ended up each eating one of the crab’s eyeballs, followed by Kyle chugging the entirety of the now lukewarm crab-juice water on the bottom of the container. It was truly a sight of intense crab-gore.
We broke out a pack of spicy chocolate coins that I had gotten earlier from Trader Joes. Each coin had a pattern or pictures of peppers printed on it. The box came with a key to tell how each coin was flavored and how spicy it was, but we decided to disregard the key and choose randomly, like an intense game of Russian Roulette.
The first round of spicy chocolate roulette had some interesting results. Kimmy and I each got a coin with a green colored pepper on it, which ended up being the spiciest flavor. Nick was already into spicy chocolate, so he decided to try the habanero flavor. He was surprised when it was not too spicy, so we convinced him to try the kind that we tried (jalapeno). He agreed that it was unintuitively a lot spicier than the habanero flavor.
Some time during the night we decided to pick up some more snacks over at CVS. We headed over there as a mob and caused quite a commotion walking through the streets at night. Kimmy got a pack of straws with mustaches on them, and Nick got a case of Dr Pepper.
The rest of the night we spent staying up playing Call of Duty Zombies and taking shots of Nick’s Fireball.
The next day, me, Jake, Kimmy, and Gavin decided to go visit Conor’s house. We got there while Conor was preparing for a D&D game with Will, Steven, and Santos. We decided to make a fire in Conor’s outdoor firepit in his backyard.
Me and Gav were tasked with going out to find some firewood. I remembered a place in the orchard near my house that usually has firewood, so we headed there. We got there while it was lightly raining, and in the mud we found a huge pile of uncut branches. We stuffed as much as we could in Gavin’s car and headed back.
Once we got there we were able to rearrange Conor’s patio furniture into a nice setup around the fire pit. Unfortunately, we couldn’t get the fire to actually catch, no matter how hard we tried.
I suggested we try a round of Cards Against Humanity, a game we had previously played at Conor’s house to great success. Unfortunately, the game belonged to Brady, who took it with him while he was off at college. Kimmy came up with a solution: she had been planning to get a gift for her parents, so she would buy them the game, but we would play it before then. So we headed to Target, picked up the game, and brought it back to Conor’s house.
After playing a few rounds of Cards Against Humanity, we left Conor’s to go crash a Gav’s. On the way we picked up some of the extra snacks that were still left at my place, because that night was our last night to finish them up before I left the next day for San Jose.
We had two large hipster flatbreads full of ingredients that I couldn’t even pronounce, some cheesecake, some dynamite chicken bites, and two salads, one Italian and one Caesar. We decided to mix the two salads in a big bowl, which we called “everything salad.” Even after having a big feast, there was still a lot left, so I packed it up to take to San Jose the next morning.
The whole weekend was pretty much a constant string of parties and feasts. The Boyos Cajun Cookout, and the crab we dissected that night will go down as legend.