InTheFray Blogs

It's time for another installment of Ask Ms. Turnstiles, where all of your burning questions about the New York City subway system are answered. Let's get down to business.      

Q: I heard that the cost of the subway fares increased this week. What gives?

A: Since you asked, this is the perfect opportunity to review the numbers: $2.25 = New cost of a single subway ride.

1 million = Number of curses you will receive from the Chinese Curses Lady if you talk on the subway.

4 = Times per week a conductor will close the doors in your face.

45 = Number of sick passengers per week.

0 = Number of other options you have to get to work.      

Q: Is it true that Ruth Madoff, Bernie's wife, was spotted riding the subway last week?  

A: Why, yes! Ms. Turnstiles thinks it's heartwarming to know that she's just one of us.    

Q: Ms. Turnstiles, why does one subway car feel like a meat locker and the car right next to it feels like the rainforest?  

A: You may have heard the recent news that New York City has earned the honorable distinction of being this country's safest big city. (City motto: We're glad we're not Detroit.) This hard-won achievement doesn't come without a no-holds-barred crackdown on things that put Gothamites at risk. After ridding the city of the dangerous criminal known as Trans-Fats and moving the menace to society called "Smoker" to back alleyways, Mayor Bloomberg has set his sights on arming you with the tools to avoid becoming a statistic. Here's how it works: You board the train and realize it's so humid you feel like you're breathing through a wet rag. Then you dash at breakneck speed to get to the next car before the doors close. After a few weeks of commuting, you'll be able to outrun any mugger. Thanks, Mayor Mike!     

Q: The woman sitting next to me is falling asleep and resting her head on my shoulder. Should I shake her awake? She's starting to snore.  

A: Ms. Turnstiles understands your predicament. She has been in this situation herself and take it from her, shaking the woman will only serve to have her snuggle closer to you. To remedy the problem, simply sprits a lot of perfume under her nose. You'll instantly create your own personal space and make you smell like you just left a cheap whorehouse, which serves as an added benefit of keeping your boss out of your cube for the rest of the day. It's a win-win situation.    

 Q: According to the television documentary, "Life After People," the entire subway system will rot and collapse five years after people are gone from the earth. What do you make of that?  

A: Ms. Turnstiles will answer your question with another question: If a subway system collapses and no one is around to witness it, why do you care?    

Q: Does your snarkiness on this subject have anything to do with the fact that you briefly dated one of the programmers for this show?  

A: Ms. Turnstiles won't dignify this question with a response, but if she did, she would have to point out, yet again, that the entire premise of the show is ridiculous. What tragedy could possibly elminate all 6 billion people on this planet simultaneously yet not harm any domesticated or wild animals? Or any vegetation? Or not damage any of the existing infrastructure? Put that in your pipe and smoke it bub.    

There you have it, Straphangers. Another informative and helpful edition of Ask Ms. Turnstiles. Until next time, when she will be taking more of your important questions, stand clear of the closing doors.

But in a lot of other cities that isn't the case. Even after some streets are named Mulberry Street or Circle Drive or what have you, they are then again renamed in tribute and honor of someone important to that neighborhood or community. This makes sense right?

Now, I don't know the logistics of street naming and how it's decided on or denied by, but I do know of a few streets around here (Staten Island) named after firefighters lost in 9/11 and soldiers killed while on duty in the Middle East. A suggestion like that probably wouldn't get much backlash, if any. I mean, if someone did object, that would probably automatically paint a target on that person's back as an inconsiderate, unfeeling bastard. At least, I feel like that would be the case. 

According to NBC Los Angeles, there is a street in California called Moneta Avenue that might be renamed after José Rizal, a Philippine historical figure and national hero who helped fight against colonial Spain (to learn more about him, refer to Wikipedia for the quickest facts). Right away there is controversy over whether it would be appropriate to name a street after him because supposedly barely anyone in the community knows who he is. 

In addition, it's not as though that community is predominantly made up of Filipinos. Reports out of LA say that the area is pretty evenly divided in terms of ethnic enclaves.

But I wonder...what's the harm? Is anyone so against such a thing? The article says that people don't want to go through the hassle of changing their "addresses and identities." Excuse me, what does a street name have to do with your identity? Is there something that I'm missing? 

If people here can honor the life of a soldier or a firefighter, why can't people honor the life of someone who, too, fought for freedom and justice? Besides, aren't people naming buildings and institutions after past presidents and Martin Luther King, Jr.? Could it be we have a problem recognizing the accomplishments of people who aren't American?

I don't really know what the big deal is, but maybe you do? 

It was last week Thursday, around midnight, that I logged onto my Facebook account, before tucking myself into a four-layered cave of warmth, and found myself gaping at one of my friend's status updates. It simply said, "Michael Jackson is dead. WTH???" Six hours later, 95 of my Facebook friends had updated theirs statuses in honor of Jackson, either confessing their love, expressing their condolences, or simply stating their level of shock.

This blog post is not about Jackson's sudden death because (like Elvis Presley, Kurt Cobain, Tupac Shakur, and Shakespeare) Michael Jackson will never truly die, no matter how much some people wish that he would. Still, MJ's death saddens me; he reminds me of Edward in Tim Burton's Edward Scissorhands, a lonely innocent corrupted by the world. That's just my opinion. Jackson tried to change the world with his music and now that he is dead, he has become yet another commodity. The world wants everything that they can get of him now that he is gone — CD and DVD demands have increased, soon there will be new books on the "life and times of Michael Jackson," along with t-shirts, stationery, costumes, and sweets. Eventually there will be a movie, then Happy Meal promotions and Michael Jackson dolls...Because that's just the way that the media works.

The workings of the media is what inspired this post. No matter how much you may think that you hate the media, it is everywhere and all you can do is find a way to use it without letting it use you. The Internet changes communication completely, allowing communication to exceed boundaries in a way that was unimaginable a few decades back. People now communicate to the masses from behind their computer screens, laptops, or mobile phones, making the world one gigantic Hyde Park. Relationships form with a joint cause, attracting support across physical borders so that the world can be heard as one voice and, hopefully, that voice will finally be big enough to bring about change for the better.

Within a couple of hours, the news of Jackson's death spread across the world...Therefore, a couple of hours would theoretically be all one needs to heal the world. The world is not as big as it used to be; with our connectedness there is no excuse for the continuance of war, famine, human rights violations, and intolerance. All one has to do is care.

As someone who periodically posts in blogs I should probably be the last person to admit that I'm not actually a fervent blog follower let alone a fervent follower of vlogs. And despite the fact that I've always had an enormous respect for rap and hip-hop artists, actually following hip-hop blogs has never been something on the forefront on my day-to-day radar.

But pushing all my ill-formed daily habits and tendencies aside, I'd like to bring up  an intriguing hip-hop vlog that I recently stumbled upon: "The Ill Doctrine" (http://www.illdoctrine.com/), run by John Randolph, founder of New York's longest running hip-hop radio show, "The Underground" on WBAI, and who more commonly goes by the name Jay Smooth.

Perhaps what's most  unusual about this hip-hop blog is that it's not just about hip-hop. Well sort of. Wait...

Like the more politically charged subject matter of his topic of choice, Smooth uses his video blog to critically address the often charged issues of race, feminism, and homophobia by posting videos that consistently address his nuanced take on these issues in a meaningful and humorously engaging way.

Not one to be exclusionary in his critiques, Smooth often turns his eye towards his own hip-hop community, criticizing artists such as Charles Hamilton, and includes posts such as "An Old Person's Guided to No Homo," which takes a look a hip-hop's often homophobic content.

In the end, perhaps one of the most endearing aspect of Smooth's work is the fact that rather than focusing on directing content towards or against anybody's agenda, Smooth simply wants to be part of the global conversation.

As he recently told NPR's "All Things Considered," "I try to set an example for being kind to people, and critiquing them while still being aware of their humanity." And in today's world where people are constantly interested in promoting their own agendas, that's a bit refreshing, isn't it?

Check out his work at:

http://www.illdoctrine.com/ and http://www.hiphopmusic.com/ 

Until, that is, I spot a familiar face on the street carrying a baby and realize that the little girl with wild hair and who always walked on her tip-toes, the one I used to ride bikes with and lived a few streets away from, is now a mother, has a husband, a house, and a career. She’s all grown up, or at least, she’s come a long way since we were ten.

It’s incredible stuff. I suppose it’s easy to get lost in the everyday momentum of life; enjoying each moment means that there isn’t always time to realize what’s changing. For me it’s about living in the present. I don't want regrets or excessive reminiscing holding me back from moving forward. The past is there inside me, but I try not to dwell on it too much.

So when someone asks, "What’s new?” I have trouble finding an answer. It’s all new, but being in the thick of things can make that hard to remember.

Old friends are a good reminder. It’s a taste of the past with a surprise of how things have changed. I'm amazed at what people achieve and how much they've grown. And when they ask me, "how are you doing?" I actually stop and realize that yeah, a lot has happened since we’ve last met.

Anyhow, that’s what’s on my mind. Old friends and the way life moves on. Things always change, and I have no regrets over that. But it’s nice to look back occasionally, catch up on a street corner while the light turns green to red, stay for a drink after saying hello at a bar, or whatever it is that brings people together. It’s good to realize how far we’ve all come.

It's not hard to understand why the market for foreign films here in America isn't booming. It's not like independent foreign movies are selling out across the country. We like our typical roles just fine, don't we? The blonde bimbo, the Indian deli-owner, and the dragon-fanatic, karate-expert, math-genius Asian. 

I will admit that I don't know very much about Asian/Asian-American film. But because I was lucky enough to attend a few screenings as part of the New York Asian Film Festival (NYAFF), I've grown to really appreciate the Asian characters from the perspective of...Asian directors, producers, actors, audiences.

The NYAFF, which is brought to life by Subway Cinemas, features over 50 films, most of which were "hits" in many countries like Korea, Japan, and Taiwan. Personally, I believe these films represent the truest of Asian life and experiences. This doesn't mean that all the movies have to do "Asian themes," like studying hard or being picked last in P.E. class. These Asian films celebrate life as simply as possible: being human.

The characters in many of NYAFF's films struggle with love and relationships, money and mishap, crazy shenanigans and late-night bar fights.  There isn't something overtly Asian about any of the films, nor did they try to be what they weren't (big-budget Western blockbusters). There was an honesty and a sincere desire to remain true to everyday life and the art of film-making. 

It's refreshing to not have to watch the same archetypes played over and over again. But this summer doesn't just have NYAFF (which ends in about a week). The IndioBravo Film Foundation brought the first Filipino Film festival a couple of weeks ago. Next month the Asian American International Film Festival (AAIFF) will take place over the course of three days, bringing to the screens some of the most organically-sound and independent Asian-American films.

It's very important to support festivals like these because they offer an alternative to the norm. And sometimes not just an alternative, but the reality.

Disney's Mulan was sort of on the right track. So whaddya say? Give the Rush Hour movies a rest, at least for a while.  

Apparently a popular equation online amidst Iran's election has been "Tiananmen + Twitter = Tehran," which obviously places a heavy emphasis on the idea that twittering (or tweeting) has rounded up hundreds and thousands of people behind those protesting Iranians who feel robbed of their voices with the supposed re-election of Ahmadinejad.

It's true- everyday I receive at least 10 Twitter updates referring to online petitions I can sign, graphic icons I can create, and listservs I can join, all to show my support. Sometimes as I'm scrolling through them, I feel an indescribable sense of community, as if simply by reading I am declaring "Yes! I'm with you!" But to be honest, the sensation is fleeting.

Maybe it is the cynic in me, maybe it is the fact that I'm still not super Web-savvy like some of my peers (I only have 22 followers on Twitter after posting over 50 updates — what am I doing wrong here?), but sometimes I can't help but still feel detached and skeptical about all of this hoopla on the Internet.