Blog

Short blog posts, journal entries, and random thoughts. Topics include a mix of personal and the world at large. 

Died in the middle

It’s weird to read on breaking news the person I’m currently reading about is pronounced dead. Henry Kissinger died yesterday at the prime age of 100. I am about halfway through Walter Isaacson’s biography of him. The takeaway from the book thus far: my god was the Vietnam War just utterly and stupendously horrendous. That Kissinger seemingly had a hand in extending that human tragedy for a few more years, all for the sake of diplomacy vis a vis the Soviets and China, is kind of vile. The Vietnamese people - from both sides of the conflict - have a right to hate America for at least a century of years.

Or one Kissinger: he lived to 100! Let it be known that one can have a hugely stressful job, late nights and early mornings, a typical American diet, zero exercise, and still live to see triple digit age. What the heck am I doing? Working out consistently, keeping a good diet, and getting tremendous amounts of sleep nightly. I don’t even drink a lick of alcohol! Perhaps gluttony and hedonism is the way to go for a long lifespan. All in moderation? Negative! What we all want is the promise of a long life without the hard work.

For better and worse, Kissinger gave his gift to America, and the world. Not content with toiling in academia for a career, he pursued his interests and what he wanted to do with fervor (and a hearty dose of egomania). On this specifically, I think Kissinger is admirable. So many of us - and I include myself in the us - give up on even trying to fulfill our potential, to chase what we really want to do. We settle for a life of enough, a life of too comfortable to take risks. I’m not saying there isn’t happiness in that, but people like Kissinger sort of makes you think of what might have been.

That maybe at your death, there will be a litany of highlights and lowlights to look back on. And perhaps the world will know about you too.

There still a line at Boba Guys?

Rest in peace, Kim Jonghyun

I woke up to horrible new this morning: Kpop group SHINee member Kim Jonghyun found dead in his home in an apparent suicide.

He was 27.

As someone who reveled in turning 30 just last week, Jonghyun's death somehow felt like a gut-punch to me. Never mind that SHINee is one of my favorite Kpop acts, and Jonghyun had arguably the best male vocals in the business (his ending to SM The Ballad's 'Hot Times' is a master class). It's heartbreaking to see someone so at the end of his wits that the ultimate and lasting release of death was the better option. 

At only 27 years of age. So much potential and life still ahead, but he couldn't see it. Even for me who have been through depression, I can't begin to imagine being in that place.

All the veneer of Jonghyun's success and veneration hid a deep trouble no one knew. Us fans on the outside can see but the happy side of fame and fortune, but we all have struggles, no matter the social standing. Money is a great problem solver yet it can never cover a hole that depression creates. To pull oneself out takes a combination of personal perseverance and outside help.

Unfortunately, in Asia it may still be shockingly taboo to seek psychological help, especially for a celebrity like Jonghyun. People would surely ask what can a world-class entertainer with all the accolades and money possibly have to be sad about? It's tremendous ignorance, and a total blind-spot of first-world Asia and its singular focus on equating success with happiness.

Let's be kind to one another. Appearances can mask hurt: reach out, simply to say hello. We are one in this world, and communication reaffirms it to those momentarily impeded from remembering. 

Thank you, Jonghyun. I pray you've found your peace. 

 

 

RIP Chester Bennington

Chester Bennington, melodic front-man of legendary band Linkin Park, committed suicide. 

I haven’t been this crushed over a celebrity death since Robin Williams’ unfortunate passing, and in such similar way that Robin also couldn’t handle the weight of the world and had to kill himself, it’s just immensely sad. The only good thought I can possibly conjure up is that I wish Chester found the peace he sought. 

As Robin’s death ripped away a piece of my childhood, Chester’s untimely passing achieved the same miserable result. Linkin Park’s music got me through much of my teenage years, through all the angst, frustration, and confusion. The lyrics Chester belted was the figurative chicken soup to my teenage soul. No memory for me was more vivid than listening to ‘In the End’ repeatedly on September 11th, 2001, because on that morning I was cloistered in a middle school classroom with 30 other kids, confused as to why the World Trade Center is burning. 

Rest in peace, star.