Ten Things: Why Justin Timberlake Kinda Sucks.

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I’ve kept this personal opinion to myself for a while, but I finally feel like it’s time to reveal publicly that . . . I cannot stand Justin Timberlake. I know that he’s beloved and adored by many, and likely a lot of people who end up reading this, but I’m definitely not a fan. In general I just find him overrated, overhyped, over-loved, pompous, and think that there’s a very artificial quality about the way he is that bugs me. Anyway, here’s my list of reasons expounding on that. Some points I think are fairly legitimate, some are definitely petty, and some are silly (but at one point, that I probably considered also legitimate).

1. His ridiculously self-aggrandizing announcement that he was finally ready to return to music was self-indulgent, obnoxious, totally unnecessary, and I doubt it gauged any new interest from those who weren’t already in his fanbase.

2. He gets so much insane praise for his songs – WHY? Yes, his music is cool, and it’s totally decent and catchy and I don’t question that he is without talent but, his debut single for one, after seven years, “Suit & Tie” is kinda crappy. It’s definitely not comeback music worthy, to me at least. But nobody is going to bash him for it because it features Jay-Z. And, well, obviously nobody is going to mess with Jay-Z. Well played, JT.

3. He had Ellen Degeneres and Beyonce introduce his performance at the Grammys this year. Are you serious? Possibly the two most powerful women in mainstream pop culture – one beloved, selfless, hilarious, the other just with ridiculously fierce stage presence with thunder thighs and a catwalk for days on end. And they commanded a standing ovation for him. Has Justin Timberlake really contributed that much to music and society? Not gonna lie, I’d applaud whoever Ellen told me to, it’s just . . . Justin Timberlake? Doesn’t really go in the same sentence as “standing ovation” to me. Somewhere in the audience, Prince and Madonna were not pleased.

4. For some reason, I suspect that he evades blame and responsibility on purpose at times. He comes off as immaculately polished, imperfectly perfect, and appears to be without a speck of drama on his rap sheet, despite having been in the business for years. I firmly believe in taking ownership of your faults and it’s just an unfortunate and incidental side effect that if you work in the media — the public eye, that others are going to catch wind of it. Some will support you, others will bash on you, but there’s generally a reaction – is that what you’re so afraid of, JT? Because how is it almost all radio silence when it comes to news about JT faltering or struggling. Why is that? I mean, come on, he’s been around for a good number of years (decades, even). He (rather seriously) dated Britney Spears for years and look how the media trampled all over her (love you, boo) while he seemed to just slither off, faultless.

5. Okay, since we’re on the topic of Britney, and even aside from the fact that I am clearly a huge advocate of anything she stands for, what the hell with writing a song about her (“Cry Me A River”)? Let’s give him the benefit of the doubt and say that during their relationship, she did cheat on him, and that is horrible, and they broke up thereafter and he’s crushed and hurt and devastated (seriously, benefit of the doubt, right?) But why is it that airing out your dirty laundry and casting essentially a blond stunt double so obviously meant to be B-Spears in a scathing, spiteful song and music video only seemed to have garnered him more critical praise and more hordes of fangirls? This is essentially trash-talking your ex in the most humiliating, public way ever. It’s not okay for Taylor Swift to write songs merely inspired by her ex-boyfriends and past relationships without being the brunt of a million jokes. But, if Justin does it, to the Queen of Pop no less, it’s cool? It’s. Not. Cool. IT’S NOT COOL. (Britney, I love you)

6. I have this theory that his role as Sean Parker in The Social Network (all-consumingly arrogant, paranoid, fake, and with a somewhat keen/smarmy business eye) is essentially how he is in real life. More proof of this is that this was the only role that he acted in that I found fairly decent, and I think otherwise he’s a pretty shitty actor. Ergo, it was because he wasn’t acting here, but playing himself. Right . . . right? Okay, maybe just me.

7. I generally hold a distaste for any privileged white boys who had cushy upbringings to a. act like they’re Black b. think they are as cool as Black people c. attempt to urbanize their style and tastes to align with those of the Black community. Please, just don’t. You were in the Mickey Mouse Club, okay?

8.  He cried like a bitch and ran to his mommy when Ashton Kutcher Punk’d him in the debut episode. Later on, JT also reported that he was high at the time. And that, ladies and gents, is the real Justin Timberlake.

9. This is an extension of an earlier point, but to continue on #4: it makes me very uncomfortable that he doesn’t seem to possess that “human” quality to him. Back when I blogged about my distaste for Lady Gaga, one of my main complaints was that she had stopped being accessible for me. That led to me just not caring about her product because I was not able to resonate, at all, with the artist putting it out. I feel the exact same way about JT and his (what appears to me as) fake humility. It makes me wonder what he has to hide, what kind of person he’s really like underneath his (again, what appears to me as a) facade, a representation that he’s carefully concocted and taken on solely for the public. Never mind the fact that he’s had no arrests, never shed a tear in public, or even have any melodramatic monologue segments we can cut from any Behind The Music-esque specials, but, again, why does he seem to repel any apparent struggles or faults off him like water? Let’s not even get back into the whole Britney thing. What about the Janet Jackson Superbowl debacle, where her career essentially took a huge nosedive while he seemed to walk away unscathed?

(Seriously, though, what about Britney?)

10. I’m pretty much done with this list, but for the sake of capping off on a lighter note and, as I mentioned above, a petty one, let me just put it out there that for the record, I was a huge, avid Backstreet Boys fangirl during the 90s and well into the early 2000s. I was seriously in love with them for the bulk of my high school years and to this day, I can shamelessly confess that I’m a committed fan. So, with that said, lol, NSYNC, BYE.

Just kidding, though. I respect NSYNC – enjoyed their music a lot, and thought they were a great group, also.

Oh. But, I’m not kidding about not liking Justin Timberlake. At all. See above.

Memorable Meals: The House, San Francisco.

Because something along the lines of “stuffing my face” is mentioned in the hobbies/interest section of my resume, I often get asked what my favorite restaurant is. Instead, I answer with the last great restaurant I ate at. To date, it’s still The House — a really tiny, unassuming, and understated (but super popular) restaurant located in the North Beach district of San Francisco. I last dined there earlier this year in the spring, but first tried a couple years ago. Each time, I prepared myself for a decent meal. Each time, I was still impressed.

The House has always had a low-key but very consistent buzz surrounding it, so I don’t know why I was so surprised that it was as great as it was for me. I think, because their menu is filled with all these frou-frou sounding New American dishes with an Asian flare to it; and on top of that, there were a lot of fish dishes.

Asian fusion and cooked fish are two components of restaurant eating that I generally just haven’t been able to get down with.

My wariness over cooked fish dishes in restaurants I think is easy to explain. There’s Anthony Bourdain’s rule of never ordering fish on certain days because of the freshness factors and me never being able to keep straight what days those are because I’m not in the industry and usually too hungry/eager to eat delicious fish that I don’t care. On top of that, and mostly, it’s that it’s also a delicate protein so it’s really easy to overcook. Overcooked fish is garbage – it turns into this chewy mush that renders the dish almost inedible.

I generally don’t like Asian fusion because the very, very vast genre of Asian food and all its many, many subcategories is my favorite type of cuisine. That and, I think, very generally speaking, it’s that a lot of Asian food packs a punch with the flavors and spices. I also grew up with a lot of it, so on top of the flavor components that are familiar to me is the emotional and nostalgic connection that I have to it. Then, there’s American food, which I also love, as its own separate entity. I think it’s less complex, but comforting and easy to love. With Asian fusion, too often, the attempted mix of these two fall flat. It leaves me either wanting one or the other and questioning why the marriage had to happen.

Not at The House. Everything just worked. The fish (and all the other spotlighted proteins) were cooked perfectly – tender and delicious. The flavor and texture combinations of every dish had my taste buds praising halle-freakin’-lujah. I’m not going to attempt to delve into descriptive food writing because I know my capacity, and I just won’t be able to do it justice. I just wanted to chronicle the beauty of all the food of this restaurant.

(From top to bottom: 1. the placemat at the restaurant, 2. steak with wasabi noodles and a kimchi slaw 3. lobster tempura 4. deep fried salmon rolls with hot mustard dipping sauce 5. kurobuta pork chop with pomegranate currant sauce, asparagus, and mash 6. curry sea bass 7. grilled lamb chops with roasted cauliflower 8. miso cod with california roll. Other notes: I think the purple chip is taro, and the yellow is plantain)

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Even in a culinary mecca like San Francisco, The House shines. That’s worth blogging about. 🙂

On Gay Couples Raising Children


Neil: we really, really wanted kids. We really had thought it through. Financially, emotionally, relationship-wise. We didn’t just accidentally get pregnant and decide that now, oh, we need to make this work.

Oprah: yeah. Yeah.

Neil: like, these kids come into our world with nothing but love, and—

Oprah: (interrupts abruptly) I just had a moment. It almost brought me to tears. You know what? I just realized what you were saying. I had an “a-ha” moment.

Neil: nice.

Oprah: Because same sex-couples, in order to have a child – it means you really, really, really gotta do a lot of work to make it happen.

David: oh, yeah.

Oprah: and, so, if you’re a same-sex couple who has a child, it means that child is so loved. And, so wanted.

* * *

This.

What More Hip-Hop Should Aspire to Be Like

i believe jehovah jireh
i believe there’s heaven
i believe in war
i believe a woman’s temple gives her the right to choose
but baby don’t abort
i believe that marriage isn’t between a man and woman
but between love and love
and i believe you when you say that you’ve lost all faith
but you must believe in something, something, something
you gotta believe in something, something, something

i still believe in man
a wise one asked me why
cause i just don’t believe we’re wicked
i know that we sin but i do believe we try, we all try
the girls try, the boys try
women try, men try
you and i – try, try, we all try

i don’t believe in time travel
i don’t believe our nation’s flag is on the moon
i don’t believe our lives are simple
and i don’t believe they’re short
this is interlude
i don’t believe my hands are clean
can’t believe that you would let me touch your heart
she didn’t believe me when i said that i lost my faith
said you must believe in something, something, something
you gotta believe in something, something, something

i still believe in man
a wise one asked me why
cause i just don’t believe we’re wicked
i know that we sin but i do believe we try, we all try
the girls try, the boys try
women try, men try
you and i – try, try, we all try

“We All Try” – Frank Ocean.

* * *

Time and time again, I will rediscover this kid. And, time and time again, I’ll be totally smitten. Frank Ocean’s product is smart and beautifully thought-provoking. It has a complex dichotomy of being both cynical and optimistic, pulling at you from all emotions in that regard.

Very basically and very simply, though, it’s also just really good music. Highly recommended.

Because She’s Britney Spears

I’m going to start an “artists I love” tag and hopefully build on it. This entry right here is, to say the least, a given.

So it’s really not a huge secret that I love Britney Spears. I don’t actually think that my reasons are that plainly obvious, though. There are the obligatory factors. Like, simply put, I really just enjoy her music. I think it’s fun, it’s catchy, it’s sexy, and well-produced. Admittedly, I don’t connect to it on any personal level, but most of her songs possess that extra ‘oomph’ factor that give them staying power, beyond the usual generic Disney tween or Bieber-esque stuff. Other contenders worth mentioning are that she’s gorgeous, she is a fantastic dancer, and she legitimately works really, really hard. I’ve never seen any holier-than-thou type of attitude from her, and she’s Britney mother-effing Spears.

Where my adoration for her actually gets personal, though, is not directly through her music, but is rooted in an almost, creepily enough, maternal kind of love. I watched her grow up, and stuck by her side throughout her many phases. It started off with just this teenage girl from a small town in Louisiana with a population of 2,500 entering onto the scene with some nonsensical catchy explosion of a song. It transformed her, over many years and many crazy fixations from the masses (her alleged breast implants, rumors/obsessions regarding her virginity, her coupling up perfectly with pop prince, Justin Timberlake) into one supreme female powerhouse of a star. There was no one like her. No one else, in present times, quite matches up to the level that Britney had reached regarding the fascination, the fixation, and the fandom.

Then, she and Justin broke up, she married Kevin Federline, she acted recklessly in public/in general, and, well, this list can be painfully drawn out and sliced however many ways you want it to be. But, in short – her pristine, pop-goddess image was shattered. But, aside from the hot mess of a person and career that came about during that period, then, was the very obvious fact that she fell apart for a bit. She fell into a dark place, and who was I to judge or to even begin to understand what that kind of fame would do to you? Aside from the fact that privacy was a completely foreign concept to her, she had risen to stardom before she even fully developed as a woman. She hadn’t even hit puberty yet when she became part of the Mickey Mouse Club, and was not even legal when “Baby One More Time” hit the scene. Going forward from there, her stardom only rose and any semblance of normalcy that was there to begin with in her life promptly went out the window. And that breaks my heart. Because all the money in the world can’t buy you a childhood or the nurture and process that you need in order to grow in those fundamental years of being an adolescent to a teenager to an adult.

So, with bated breath, I waited. I wasn’t even entirely sure of what I was waiting for, during her “break,” really, because her music was something that I probably could have lived without hearing any new developments from. I didn’t know her personally, so why did I want to see her better herself? Because I had decided to flimsily commit to her in 1998, and after years of being exposed to her and subsequently putting so much more emotional stock into that following, I refused to disengage myself from over a decade of what had turned into a full-blown dedication and loyalty. By then, it had gone beyond just any basic music fan liking an artist and their product. It became a personal investment. It became a love that knew no bounds. It still is just that.

In that same vein of the creepy mom-like love that I have for her, I ultimately just want her to be happy. I want her to come back onto the scene with her catchy pop-hits only if she wants to. I want her to tour on massively produced sets and all over the world if that’s what she legitimately enjoys doing. I want her to take time off and be with her kids because she now is a mother, on top of being a popstar celebrity. I’ve grown over the years, as she has, from first being exposed to her, to slowly realizing that the entity that we know as Britney Spears is a human being. That makes her no different than you or me. That makes her no less better, no less worse.

She is still pretty fuckin’ fabulous, though.

Other Cultures

“You know the little stone pots that they serve bibimbap and tofu soup in? Is there like . . . a bigger communal or family version? Like a cauldron?”
“Um, no. We’re Korean, not witches.”

Me, Brian Kim.

Some of My Favorite Boys

Barney: She’s a fifteen
Ted: She’s fifteen!?
Barney: No, like in blackjack.
Ted: … as in … not sure whether you’d hit it or not?
Barney: Yeah.
Ted: Nice.

Barney: Which one of us has more game?
Marshall: Uh, neither of you guys has any game, right? Or else you’d be married, like me.
Barney: What?
Marshall: If dating is the game, then marriage is winning the game.
Ted: Yeah, if you’re playing in the women’s league.

– How I Met Your Mother.

Notes to Self

I firmly believe that with everything that we’re put up against in life, we wouldn’t be going through it unless we could get through it.

I grew up with little to no exposure to religion and faith — so, far be it for me to even begin to understand or really unpack what it means. I do appreciate and respect the general idea of it, though. I understand and believe that it exists in peoples’ lives as not only a crucial belief system, but as something that grounds them. Something that guides them through life, both in a positive and spiritual way. My religion is my own strength. Just as many believe that they wouldn’t have been put in unsavory situations unless God believed that they’d be able to pull through it, I see the same for myself — I don’t believe that I’m meant to ever face something that I couldn’t handle in the long run. Some may be much more difficult than others, obviously, but the ultimate test is whether this breaks you or makes you.

To end this cryptic entry on a more concise note: don’t lose sight of the greatness that you know yourself to be. Nothing is harder than working toward an abstract goal, but nothing gets easier than letting all of that fall by the wayside because of a few bumps in the road. And nothing, nothing is more regretful or scarier than that.

Nobody said it was easy, oh, they never said it would be so hard . . .

But that’s just what makes it so worth it in the end.

Top Chef Finally Recognizes, a Little.

The challenge on this week’s episode of Bravo TV’s Top Chef took place at a dim sum restaurant in NYC’s Chinatown. Accordingly, it was basically a dim sum challenge. TC has grown to be a monster of a critically acclaimed show — food is the new black, the new denim. Foodies are the new cool kids – they are the it-crowd (and incidentally, like most of the popular kids, generally obnoxious in high dosages). Anyway, my point is – the contestants are not your run-of-the-mill Applebee’s cooks trying to make it big – they’re all already fairly big-name rockstars in their arena. They’re executive chefs of brand name restaurants, chefs who’ve worked for culinary superstars like Eric Ripert and Joel Rubuchon, chefs who are more or less fairly experienced players in the game. Surprisingly, or not-so-surprisingly, though, the challenge bombed spectacularly. The food came out at a snail’s pace, and when it did, huge, spotlighted portions were left on the already small plates, leaving the Chinese patrons hungry. Even the best dishes received a fairly lukewarm applause from the judges, compared to the winning dishes in other challenges in other episodes.

The challenge left both the diners and judges hungry, both figuratively and literally speaking.

I myself finished viewing the episode with a sort of mixed, lackluster attitude. Never mind being angry over contestant Marcel’s ignorant remarks about Chinatown being reminiscent of being in China where everyone speaks Chinese (true, perhaps) and where you can get a cheap massage (fuck you, Marcel – and grow the hell up), I was more smug and pleased on some level. Pleased, because authentic Chinese food has yet to really garner any focus or attention in the American food scene. While cuisines of Japan and the general Southeast Asian countries are being more bastardized than ever, they are at least being more recognized and being drawn inspiration from. If there’s any semblance of Chinese cuisine being incorporated into the ever-so-trendy “fusion” or “New American” dishes in the fine dining world . . . I’m not really seeing it as much as I am seeing dishes that feature crudo/sashimi or curry flavors, for example.

The modern foodie world and the world of Chinese food seem to have completely separated themselves from each other, basically. Each living in blissful, mutually exclusive ignorance. Each are fairly introverted power players who are more or less aware that the other exist, but neither seem to have any desire to make any contact, it seems. Even if a tragic attempt or blasphemous rendition – I’d like to see a sweet spot secured for the merging of these two worlds, Venn diagram style and all that.

So, basically, regarding the episode: a general nod toward a sector of Chinese cuisine, dim sum, is appreciated. Simply put — yay for that.

In that same vein of smugness on my part, I not only attribute the general fail-factor of the challenge to the fact that the chefs just had no idea how to master authenticity or a dish in general when it came to dim sum because of their lack of exposure to actual, down-and-dirty, legitimate dim sum, but also because they underestimated the skill-set and intricacies that are actually incorporated into something that seems so facially simple when you look at it. Dim sum, or “Asian tapas” as most of the contestants like to lovingly dub this type of meal, look like small bites, hor d’oeuvres – so just make something remotely Asian, make them in small pieces and add a drizzle/dash/sprinkling of more Asia (sesame seeds, Hoisin or Sriracha sauce, a lot of soy sauce, wrap it in a dumpling/wonton wrapper) and that’s it.

Not quite. And, far be it for me to school all these world-renowned chefs who excel pretty well in their own cuisines, but I do recognize that food preparation and execution is an art, craft, and skill that is precious and comes from centuries of training. Dim sum itself is not any exception. China is a packed, densely populated country with a deep history that stretches for centuries and centuries older than the US. When you strip away all the details, the very basic skeleton provides with you with this much: to efficiently and deliciously feed that many people per room, per household, per square mile, per town – it took more than just standard food-smarts. It took the experience, the trial and error, adapting time and time again, and the many generations of knowledge to perfect the sacred (and tasty) tradition of dim sum. These Top Chef contestants have undoubtedly have their own respective/comparable experience in feeding a whole room full of hungry food critics and bourgie, demanding diners on a high-impact, stressful Saturday night in whatever urban metropolitan area they hale from. But apparently that experience doesn’t quite measure up in preparing some “tapas” for all these simple, Chinese diners (and masseuses, eh?)

So I do appreciate the episode for bringing dim sum/Chinese-cooking methods to the mainstream foodie crowd and giving it just a little more exposure. I’m not knocking on anybody intentionally (except Marcel. Sorry, I really just don’t like that fool), I’m just hoping that the recognition doesn’t go ignored. Chicken feet should be deep fried because only hot oil can separate the skin from the bone, otherwise you’re left with an unpleasant plate of rubbery looking gnarly chicken parts that you have to gnaw like a caveman. Dumpling skins are not just one in the same in that some need to be boiled so that they retain more moisture in the process, whereas others can be steamed because they are meant to be more al dente and chewy while eating. Also, placing sticky rice on a banana leaf is not just for decorative or practical purposes, but the flavor actually seeps through and cooks into the rice, adding a subtle and a delicate aroma.

And, for the love of all that is Asian and delicious — soy sauce does NOT solve all your problems, people.

The Practical Reality of Relationships

. . . is that there is a practical reality to it. Long distance relationships never seem to work out just because of that.

What society’s favorite perception of the romantic relationship tends to overlook is that there is a deeply embedded, very important, heavy layer of practicality to it. Relationships crumble or don’t flourish properly because of money, because of time, because of location. It’s always more facially interesting to read about two people who split because homeboy was a cheater, or because girlfriend had major personality disorders, rather than to learn that two people were never able to be together because one had to be in New York for work while the other in California for school.

Sometimes, if not most of the time actually, there is nothing fundamentally off about the relationship or potential relationship itself — personalities mesh, the dynamic is there, maturity levels are both on par, the connection is ignited, the romance and chemistry all sparkle, but you can’t fully maintain a love with someone while they’re halfway across the country. Communication is easy, but connection becomes so much more difficult – too difficult. You can easily call or email or text or IM or video-chat or . . . utilize about fifty-four other million options that technology in this day and age has made possible for us. But, you can’t enjoy a trying out a new restaurant with someone, you can’t cuddle in their arms on lazy Saturday nights on the couch watching old reruns, you can’t have spontaneous adventures while playing hooky from work or school on a Tuesday afternoon, you can’t have sex with them on the regular, steal kisses, you can’t even hold their hand while walking down the street — or walk down the street, period. You can’t rub their arms, caress their necks, gaze at them from across the table. You can’t fully feel someone when it’s physically impossible to at the moment. When that’s off, everything else is. The domino effect comes into play. Then, soon enough, the struggle and frustration bleeds into the entirety of the relationship.

It starts to affect more than one can handle.

These days, there are more of this breed of overly ambitious people who want it all than ever. We want the love and romance, the people and friendships and social activities, the career and work life, and we want it all in the life that we want to have been dictated for ourselves and by ourselves. If we’re able to drop one of those, the others would be so much easier to manage or just obtain. And, that’s just it. I don’t think that chivalry is dead or that we are living in a time when the general perception of things is trending toward viewing it through a non-romantic lens, I just think that it is what it is – a reality. If the overall cost outweighs the benefits and if you’ve worked hard your whole life for something, like your career or your family, only to tarnish it for something more seemingly insubstantial, then it really isn’t worth it.

I don’t think that this applies to all relationships nor am I addressing the general long distance relationship. And, I don’t intend for it to apply to all “modern,” “ambitious,” people, either. But I do think that, when applicable, it is the right choice. It doesn’t make the break-up or the non-assembly of the relationship any less sad, any less painful, or any less heartbreaking.

When applicable, it makes sense to your life, if that’s any consolation. And there’s nothing stupider or more irrelevant than nonsense.

Run with it, and everything will work out because you did the right thing and are continuing to do the right thing.

Trust.