andrew seid

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materialism (phil.)

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it’s a crab

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on a barnacle encrusted boulder at the water’s edge. a hong kong river opens out to sea. it is 630pm, the day becomes dusk; water nags and folds on all the boulders. closer to the edge, a rounded fish pecks at barnacular protrusions; juvenile puffer. a pair of slender translucent fish seem to wait, each with a tiny white brain set behind its eyes. hundreds of half-inch guppies hover synchronized, bodies like tiny squirts of motor oil.

a hunting crab’s ocular stalks spot movement. or perhaps he felt the sound of foot on rock. scatters down and away.

it is getting darker. rhythmic lapping interrupted by an occasional larger fish breaking tension and thrusting body into the air. soon the attacks come frequently. from that spot radiates a thousand more jumps. smaller fish reacting to the gaping maw which startled them. the jumps beget more of the same, and a circle spreads out in all directions. two seconds after the fleshy white doom has submerged, the tiny fish are still jumping. following, reacting, running from a threat which no longer exists.

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dandong red

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vast spans the gap. we stood in the gravel yard between the horse shelter and the pig sty; me and a couple classmates. a frigid energy pulsed in the atmosphere; the clouds were indecisive. the bus driver enlightened us regarding his financial affairs.

DRIVER. “daughter went abroad to study, makes this amount of money over seas.”

AMERICAN. “does she plan to return to china?”

DRIVER. “china has some problems. look around, this poor countryside, unacceptable. she couldn’t make the same money over here.”

AMERICAN. “but this countryside is so beautiful. it’s really nice.”

DRIVER. ” (hesitates) … i only make this amount of money every year.”

having climbed to the top of the mountain, we continue to scan for what we thought would be here. don’t worry china, you’ll make it up too. but find you won’t what you seek.

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when they were clean

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virgin snow

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dirt, cage

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i swam laps at the harbin flying fish pool. washed, got dressed and stepped into the cold city air, rain spitting down all around. it’s ok to leave your plastic water bottles on the street; there are people who come and pick them up. through the nighttime darkness and across the pock-marked asphalt, rain and mud and oil fill up the pits and make them puddles. plod around them, save your shoes. a different shortcut now, this time the first alleyway, cutting through the tall dilapidated apartments. a more treacherous path, a taxi pushes its way through; its lights fade and my eyes adjust again. on the other end, city lights break through, and all the plastic bags have been blown against the wall to the right (nobody collects the bags). bus 109, bus 108 rocket by. waiting for 107; i’m hungry, catch it later.

enter the 4 table establishment and sit down, tomatoes and eggs over rice. In come 3 chaps, saw them at the pool too. an unusually handsome bunch, i think to myself. not students, they say they are models. 24 yrs, 23 yrs, and 20 yrs of age. benefits: lots of pretty girls. salary: so-so. requirements: exercise and don’t get fat. negative: once you get old, you can’t do it anymore. the talkative one bought me a bottle of pepsi (glass, but don’t take it away, the restaurant gets to recycle). they are taking the train to beijing this weekend, soft sleeper, company pays— some show to get to.

Q. how did you all decide to become models?

A. we didn’t study well.

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731 museum

the remains of a power generation plant located on the grounds of japan’s biological warfare laboratory and concentration camp in harbin, china. once it became obvious that japanese forces would pushed out of china, orders from tokyo came through to destroy all evidence. steel and concrete survived.

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flora - hainan island

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fauna - hainan island

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i walked the streets of harbin city from 1125pm until 1215am. the first 35 minutes of my walk were the last 35 minutes of china’s new year festival, which began on february 7th, and ended on february 21st. this last day is known as the lantern festival. while every day during the two week spring festival is interrupted by fireworks, lantern day’s fireworks are the most numerous. from the time i woke up at 8am through midnight, the cracks and echos bumped in and lined up next to each other, no time for silence. the shot and singe; bursts of light, bouncing off the stoic gray high rises, each one coated with years of fossil fuel dust. pyrotechnic shrieks rallied down the alley ways. a war was being waged. sulfur filled the air. the gutters were clogged with red paper, obliterated exoskeletons, firecracker shells.

as i clambered up the concrete-slopes and over the floes of frozen-marbled garbage, i looked back down at the train tracks for the train that i kept hearing, but that never came.

doubling back and mounting the avenue sidewalk, the electromagnetic catcalls commenced. red steel vultures, taxis slowed to wait, to honk, to encourage. most of the vehicles on the road that night were taxis, almost all of them empty. drivers hoping to snag a walker, perhaps one last passenger for the night. some had pulled over and resigned themselves to lying in wait— fuel to consider.

further down the avenue, to my right the kentucky fried chicken. had finally closed its doors for the night, only a few scattered flourescent lights remained on to flicker. a woman, expressionless, mops the floor, i see her through the window, a kentucky colonel is etched, smiling into the glass. she walks away.

nearing the front gates of harbin institute of technology, several identical circular lamp post advertisements swoop overhead: ‘painless abortion’, ‘painless abortion’, ‘painless abortion’.

my roommate remembers the day china won the rights to the 2008 olympics. fireworks went off that day. the people were proud, to tell the truth, so was he.

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pajamas

according to a trustworthy source, this choice of clothing has the effect of making it well known to any present tourists that the above pajama wearers are in fact native residents of shanghai. the logic here being that tourists would not go out traveling in their pajamas.

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at harbin taiping international airport, pragmatism rules as security employees inspect the various amounts and types of liquids which pass through their x-ray scanners.

upon discovering that i had loaded a whopping 600ml of unknown liquid(s) into my backpack, the assigned female security employee kindly asked me to open the questionable container. i complied, and, like a seasoned wine connoiseur, she gently wafted the odor of my liquid toward her sensitive nostrils. having satisfied her conscience, she handed it back to me, apparently having concluded that my sealed water bottle did in fact contain water.