how to translate "I" into Chinese?

英文的「Ｉ」中文怎麼翻譯 ? 老外聽了老師一席話，頓覺冷水澆頭

有一個老外為了學好漢語，不遠萬里，來到中國，拜師于一位國學教授門下。第一天老外想挑一個簡單詞彙學習，便向老師請教英語〝Ｉ〞在漢語中應該如何說......

老師解釋道：中國是一個官本位國家，當你處在不同的級別、地位，〝Ｉ〞也有不同的變化，就象你們英語中的形容詞有原級、比較級、最高級一樣。

比如，你剛來中國，沒有地位，對普通人可以說：

我、咱、俺、餘、吾、予、儂、某、咱家、洒家、俺咱、本人、個人、人家、吾儂、我儂。

如果見到老師、長輩和上級，則應該說：

區區、僕、鄙、愚、走、鄙人、卑人、敝人、鄙夫、鄙軀、鄙愚、貧身、小子、小可、在下、末學、小生、不佞、不才、不材、小材、不肖、不孝、不類、走狗、牛馬走、愚

小子、鄙生、貧生、學生、後學、晚生、學生、後生晚學、予末小子、予小子、餘小子。

等到你當了官以後，見到上級和皇帝，則應該說：

職、卑職、下官、臣、臣子、小臣、鄙臣、愚臣、奴婢、奴才、小人、老奴、小的、小底。

見到平級，則可以說：

愚兄、為兄、小弟、兄弟、愚弟、哥們。

見到下級，則可以說：

爺們、老子、大老子、你老子、乃公。

如果你混得好，當上了皇帝或王爺，則可以說：

朕、孤、孤王、孤家、寡人、不轂。

如果你不願意當官，只好去當和尚、道士、應該說：

貧道、小道、貧僧、貧衲、不慧、小僧、野僧、老衲、老僧。

最後一點必須注意，一旦你退休了，便一下子失去了權利和地位，見人也矮了三分，只好說：

老朽、老拙、老夫、愚老、老叟、小老、小老兒、老漢、老可、老軀、老僕、老物、朽人、老我、老骨頭。

上面一百零八種〝Ｉ〞，僅僅 是男性的常用說法。

更多的〝Ｉ〞明天講解。老外聽了老師一席話，頓覺冷水澆頭，一個晚上沒有睡好覺。

第二天一大早向老師辭行：學生、愚、不材、末學、走。退了房間，訂了機票，回國去了。

Inside job

I watched this documentary yesterday. My feeling was that deregulation was the result of the ending of cold war. Rather than pinning everything onto evil rich people, what we could learn is to make a clear case for the ideology and reality.

Let me elaborate a little. I think inside job provided us a clear picture of the process of how we get to this situation. But it did not provide a good enough cause of the situation. The world is a funny place. Is it clear which one is the cause? Maybe, maybe not. When the industrial revolution started, capitalism flourishes, socialism was then born, which bore communism. Then the rise of communism after WW2, strengthen the position of ideology, for which so called "free" western European Countries-United States proudly took the plight onto their own shoulder. Then when the Soviet collapsed in such a speed. When the huge pressure was suddenly lifted, the opposite ideology from communism lost its containment over night. People on the winning side started to believe they won, their ideology was triumphant. Now it is time to be really free. And all the evil traits of capitalism were finally revealed without the check of regulations, imposed by financial institution itself, or political institution.

That is more of a real cause of deregulation. The problem is not regulation or no regulation. Everyone knows that being free does not mean anarchy, well, for most people anyway. So the problem should always be how to regulate, how much is necessary, what to regulate.

I always remembered Federalist paper from USA founding fathers. It clearly said that we, human are filthy and untrustworthy. No one can escape from that. I think this documentary proved the description above was right. Now, we know the cause of the problem and the process of the financial melt down. I think we could have a certain balance to move forward.

afraid of deterioated

You know how a relation get so bad, especially a natural one? What I mean by natural one? I meant the relations within direct family? Many of them are like they have grudge against each other before they were even born.

But it is not. The relationship is deteriorated through time. But time is a concept with no meaning without action in it. So action through time is how relation strengthened or deteriorated.

I feel that we have a big overall feeling towards somebody. But I also have a everyday emotions that varied from this overall feeling. Because things change. And our emotion changes with things. But this overall feeling did not really change with things. Since somebody is a natural tie, which cannot be severed through any means, except extreme ego. But even extreme ego is fed up through action through time. Someone can have strong ego at the birth. But to become super self centered, that required some work.

How not to betray that overall feeling but also kept balanced with everyday emotion is important to learn.

the relation of expressions of two sides of brain

I heard somewhere that our two brains acted very differently. One is a chatter box, the other is a silent hill. The left brain uses words and sounds to express itself. But the right one uses pictures and shapes. One of the earliest experiments was to severe the connection between left and right brain. The result helped many who suffered epilepsy. The researcher found out later that the two sides grew separately. But what is the major difference between those who severed the connection between right and left, and those who did not?

When I see something, I do not always use words to describe them. In fact, I merely just stare at it. But what happened when I started to use words to describe them? What about vice versa? That is I closed my eyes and start to say something randomly. But at the same time, I waited after I uttered each word to form a picture in my brain. What I am saying is that instead of separating the two sides, what if we find a way to strengthen the connection between the two. What would this do to human being?

Reading a book is like the second act I described above. When we read a book with vivid description, avid readers would also have the description in pictures. Or at least, even if the readers have not seen the described, they could still summon up similar stuff in the past. The picture formed would that be in the right brain? If so, would reading strengthen the connection between the left and right? Would watching a TV program has the same effect. But the difference between TV and book is that TV are pictures, books are words, except graphic novels, 漫畫...etc When watching a TV, pictures are well described with good scripts. Thus, it eliminates the need for left brain to proactively moving. It just receiving words in a reacted manner. However, I can not be certain that my explanation would be accurate. Since I know if reading a book really have readers creating pictures in their heads. For me, sometimes it does, sometimes it does not. The reason being that I will need to be super active while reading a book to do that. Although for most of the reading, my brain are just on the mellow mode. I do however turn back pages many times to reread one paragraph or two to catch some important phrases.

And my premises of left brain mere words may not be accurate at all. Although I am certain that right brain do process pictures, but it is not that simple either... I am just wondering, that is all...

I love her (2)

I will argue with anything. Even the truest words. I love her. That's all I want to say for years. But no. I argued against it. Because I know the expression was not out of fire and ice. It is not tested. I do not trust the expression. So utterance of it is absurd. But now I know the final result is here while I lost all the hopes. Now can I finally express the nonsense?

No? Why not? Because to whom, are you going to express it to? Or you can waging war with yourself that is so taxing, in the hope that I will be driven mad? I could express it to the thin air. I won't be afraid of failure there. Isn't that what I've been doing in the past 8 years? I love her. The objective is HER, whom are you telling this to?

I do not know. Even if I am talking from my left brain to my right one. It is still talking to thin air! Since the right brain Do Not Talk! I love her. I want to play. I want to find comfort and security. Love should do the trick. But. But what if, that's right. What if. I love her.

If this is true. If love came from myself. What is it to be afraid of? Accepted or not, I win. That is okay. But it makes myself sad and helpless. So is it love? Or just something I want and could not get? Then the expression, I love her is not correct. This must be something else.

So eventually I was right for not saying the words. But what is it that I really want to say?

I love her (1)

I love her. When I first saw her. I was feeling embarrassed at the moment before I saw her the first time. I do not remember how she looked. She came in with a friend of hers. It felt like a cool wind sweeping through a door into a hot and weary room. She's all smiling and giggling with her friend. The teacher said hi to her with a smile then introduced me to her. That was lunch time. She brought me to school cafeteria and sat down for a bite. I forgot what did I have. I forgot the room was with people filled. I did not remember what she said, or what I said. I just remembered that I sat there with a girl with a smile on her face so big and so bright, I had to avert my gaze somewhere. I felt uncomfortable somehow because of history. I felt weird. But I know I did not want to leave. And I did not. A memory forever sealed.

That was the first day of my high school in USA. I feel sad now that is a memory for me solely.

The Tell-Tale Heart

The Tell-Tale Heart

by Edgar Allan Poe
(published 1850)


TRUE! -- nervous -- very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why will you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses -- not destroyed -- not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How, then, am I mad? Hearken! and observe how healthily -- how calmly I can tell you the whole story.

It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain; but once conceived, it haunted me day and night. Object there was none. Passion there was none. I loved the old man. He had never wronged me. He had never given me insult. For his gold I had no desire. I think it was his eye! yes, it was this! He had the eye of a vulture --a pale blue eye, with a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me, my blood ran cold; and so by degrees -- very gradually --I made up my mind to take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eye forever.

Now this is the point. You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I proceeded --with what caution --with what foresight --with what dissimulation I went to work! I was never kinder to the old man than during the whole week before I killed him. And every night, about midnight, I turned the latch of his door and opened it --oh so gently! And then, when I had made an opening sufficient for my head, I put in a dark lantern, all closed, closed, so that no light shone out, and then I thrust in my head. Oh, you would have laughed to see how cunningly I thrust it in! I moved it slowly --very, very slowly, so that I might not disturb the old man's sleep. It took me an hour to place my whole head within the opening so far that I could see him as he lay upon his bed. Ha! --would a madman have been so wise as this? And then, when my head was well in the room, I undid the lantern cautiously --oh, so cautiously --cautiously (for the hinges creaked) --I undid it just so much that a single thin ray fell upon the vulture eye. And this I did for seven long nights --every night just at midnight --but I found the eye always closed; and so it was impossible to do the work; for it was not the old man who vexed me, but his Evil Eye. And every morning, when the day broke, I went boldly into the chamber, and spoke courageously to him, calling him by name in a hearty tone, and inquiring how he has passed the night. So you see he would have been a very profound old man, indeed, to suspect that every night, just at twelve, I looked in upon him while he slept.

Upon the eighth night I was more than usually cautious in opening the door. A watch's minute hand moves more quickly than did mine. Never before that night had I felt the extent of my own powers --of my sagacity. I could scarcely contain my feelings of triumph. To think that there I was, opening the door, little by little, and he not even to dream of my secret deeds or thoughts. I fairly chuckled at the idea; and perhaps he heard me; for he moved on the bed suddenly, as if startled. Now you may think that I drew back --but no. His room was as black as pitch with the thick darkness, (for the shutters were close fastened, through fear of robbers,) and so I knew that he could not see the opening of the door, and I kept pushing it on steadily, steadily.

I had my head in, and was about to open the lantern, when my thumb slipped upon the tin fastening, and the old man sprang up in bed, crying out --"Who's there?"

I kept quite still and said nothing. For a whole hour I did not move a muscle, and in the meantime I did not hear him lie down. He was still sitting up in the bed listening; --just as I have done, night after night, hearkening to the death watches in the wall.

Presently I heard a slight groan, and I knew it was the groan of mortal terror. It was not a groan of pain or of grief --oh, no! --it was the low stifled sound that arises from the bottom of the soul when overcharged with awe. I knew the sound well. Many a night, just at midnight, when all the world slept, it has welled up from my own bosom, deepening, with its dreadful echo, the terrors that distracted me. I say I knew it well. I knew what the old man felt, and pitied him, although I chuckled at heart. I knew that he had been lying awake ever since the first slight noise, when he had turned in the bed. His fears had been ever since growing upon him. He had been trying to fancy them causeless, but could not. He had been saying to himself --"It is nothing but the wind in the chimney --it is only a mouse crossing the floor," or "It is merely a cricket which has made a single chirp." Yes, he had been trying to comfort himself with these suppositions: but he had found all in vain. All in vain; because Death, in approaching him had stalked with his black shadow before him, and enveloped the victim. And it was the mournful influence of the unperceived shadow that caused him to feel --although he neither saw nor heard --to feel the presence of my head within the room.

When I had waited a long time, very patiently, without hearing him lie down, I resolved to open a little --a very, very little crevice in the lantern. So I opened it --you cannot imagine how stealthily, stealthily --until, at length a single dim ray, like the thread of the spider, shot from out the crevice and fell full upon the vulture eye.

It was open --wide, wide open --and I grew furious as I gazed upon it. I saw it with perfect distinctness --all a dull blue, with a hideous veil over it that chilled the very marrow in my bones; but I could see nothing else of the old man's face or person: for I had directed the ray as if by instinct, precisely upon the damned spot.

And have I not told you that what you mistake for madness is but over acuteness of the senses? --now, I say, there came to my ears a low, dull, quick sound, such as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton. I knew that sound well, too. It was the beating of the old man's heart. It increased my fury, as the beating of a drum stimulates the soldier into courage.

But even yet I refrained and kept still. I scarcely breathed. I held the lantern motionless. I tried how steadily I could maintain the ray upon the eye. Meantime the hellish tattoo of the heart increased. It grew quicker and quicker, and louder and louder every instant. The old man's terror must have been extreme! It grew louder, I say, louder every moment! --do you mark me well? I have told you that I am nervous: so I am. And now at the dead hour of the night, amid the dreadful silence of that old house, so strange a noise as this excited me to uncontrollable terror. Yet, for some minutes longer I refrained and stood still. But the beating grew louder, louder! I thought the heart must burst. And now a new anxiety seized me --the sound would be heard by a neighbor! The old man's hour had come! With a loud yell, I threw open the lantern and leaped into the room. He shrieked once --once only. In an instant I dragged him to the floor, and pulled the heavy bed over him. I then smiled gaily, to find the deed so far done. But, for many minutes, the heart beat on with a muffled sound. This, however, did not vex me; it would not be heard through the wall. At length it ceased. The old man was dead. I removed the bed and examined the corpse. Yes, he was stone, stone dead. I placed my hand upon the heart and held it there many minutes. There was no pulsation. He was stone dead. His eye would trouble me no more.

If still you think me mad, you will think so no longer when I describe the wise precautions I took for the concealment of the body. The night waned, and I worked hastily, but in silence. First of all I dismembered the corpse. I cut off the head and the arms and the legs.

I then took up three planks from the flooring of the chamber, and deposited all between the scantlings. I then replaced the boards so cleverly, so cunningly, that no human eye -- not even his --could have detected any thing wrong. There was nothing to wash out --no stain of any kind --no blood-spot whatever. I had been too wary for that. A tub had caught all --ha! ha!

When I had made an end of these labors, it was four o'clock --still dark as midnight. As the bell sounded the hour, there came a knocking at the street door. I went down to open it with a light heart, --for what had I now to fear? There entered three men, who introduced themselves, with perfect suavity, as officers of the police. A shriek had been heard by a neighbor during the night; suspicion of foul play had been aroused; information had been lodged at the police office, and they (the officers) had been deputed to search the premises.

I smiled, --for what had I to fear? I bade the gentlemen welcome. The shriek, I said, was my own in a dream. The old man, I mentioned, was absent in the country. I took my visitors all over the house. I bade them search --search well. I led them, at length, to his chamber. I showed them his treasures, secure, undisturbed. In the enthusiasm of my confidence, I brought chairs into the room, and desired them here to rest from their fatigues, while I myself, in the wild audacity of my perfect triumph, placed my own seat upon the very spot beneath which reposed the corpse of the victim.

The officers were satisfied. My manner had convinced them. I was singularly at ease. They sat, and while I answered cheerily, they chatted of familiar things. But, ere long, I felt myself getting pale and wished them gone. My head ached, and I fancied a ringing in my ears: but still they sat and still chatted. The ringing became more distinct: --it continued and became more distinct: I talked more freely to get rid of the feeling: but it continued and gained definiteness --until, at length, I found that the noise was not within my ears.

No doubt I now grew very pale; --but I talked more fluently, and with a heightened voice. Yet the sound increased --and what could I do? It was a low, dull, quick sound --much such a sound as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton. I gasped for breath -- and yet the officers heard it not. I talked more quickly --more vehemently; but the noise steadily increased. I arose and argued about trifles, in a high key and with violent gesticulations; but the noise steadily increased. Why would they not be gone? I paced the floor to and fro with heavy strides, as if excited to fury by the observations of the men -- but the noise steadily increased. Oh God! what could I do? I foamed --I raved --I swore! I swung the chair upon which I had been sitting, and grated it upon the boards, but the noise arose over all and continually increased. It grew louder --louder --louder! And still the men chatted pleasantly, and smiled. Was it possible they heard not? Almighty God! --no, no! They heard! --they suspected! --they knew! --they were making a mockery of my horror! --this I thought, and this I think. But anything was better than this agony! Anything was more tolerable than this derision! I could bear those hypocritical smiles no longer! I felt that I must scream or die! --and now --again! --hark! louder! louder! louder! louder! --

"Villains!" I shrieked, "dissemble no more! I admit the deed! --tear up the planks! --here, here! --it is the beating of his hideous heart!"


(http://poestories.com/read/telltaleheart)

天下第一鴨---趙寧

嗬! 搞什麼鬼! 自從趙大廚發表了 "八寶菜", "萬年鍋"的大作以後, 人人都把趙大廚的手藝看扁了. 譬如說吧, 前天有善心同胞請趙大廚便飯, 女主人烹飪功夫不夠水準, 端了一盤橡皮筋出來硬說是醬爆肉. 趙大廚心直口快, 當場開罵. 女主人不但不虛心就教, 檢討改進, 凡而強辯曰: "老娘這碟小菜, 傅培梅比不上, 比起你閣下的八寶菜, 萬年鍋來, 總是強多了吧!" 哈! 哈! 哈! 真是要把趙大廚的肚皮笑破! 你想想看, 趙大廚要是真的成天八寶菜, 萬年鍋, 那不早就活活餓扁了, 那裡還能長得這樣白白胖胖, 一表人才? 其理至明. 這個年頭做人太謙虛總是吃虧. 告訴你吧, 趙大廚是 "真人不露相, 露相非真人"! 那天要是真把我弄火了, 下廚唏哩嘩啦的整幾盤招牌大菜出來, 不把你吃的神魂顛倒, 那明兒個太陽可是真要從西邊出來了.

什麼? 你也不相信老趙炒的一手好菜? 真氣人! 好了, 咱們來個短話長說, 你豎起耳朵來, 好好給我聽著.

講出來怪不好意思的, 原來趙老大好吃懶做十分聞名, 又因為佔了資深光桿肥缺, 對於吃便飯這門學問不但內行, 而且經過多年研究發展, 還有獨到的發明.

好像是五年以前吧, 一大票老中濟濟一堂, 指手畫腳, 談天說地. 飯前的話題走火入魔, 總繞在政治上打轉. 大家詞鋒尖銳, 爭得面紅耳赤, 非常有傷感情. 飯後突然開始談吃的, 談得更熱烈, 而且氣氛完全不同, 不但沒有爭吵的情形, 反而一團和氣, 十分愉快. 趙大廚聰明過人, 大呼一聲, "著!" 頓時覺悟了一個大道理, 原來 "民以食為天", 凡是能把老百姓的肚皮伺候得舒舒服服的政治, 便是天下第一等的政治, 不談吃去談政治那便是捨本逐末, 不天下大亂也難. 這一種覺悟, 佛家叫做 "頓悟", 真是踏破鐵鞋無覓處, 得來全不費工夫. 趙大廚一時高興, 不免得意忘形, 手舞足蹈起立發言曰:
"親愛的同胞們, 中國人說同船共渡都是緣分. 我們大家漂洋過海來到新大陸, 湊巧都在這個城落腳, 彼此還能夠認識, 一起吃飯, 一起抬槓, 真是前世修來的緣分, 要好好的珍惜. 西方人總說中國是東亞的睡獅, 睡獅沉睡不醒就是因為中國人是一片散沙. 做為一個資本主義工業社會裡的新移民, 大家平日都忙, 彼此見面也不容易. 兄弟剛才見到諸位吃得開心, 談得也過癮, 十分的感動, 所以有一個建議. 我們是不是能把這聚會改為每月定期舉行? 每人帶一個菜, 輪流在各家舉行, 誰也不是主人, 誰也不是客人. 你也不必忙碌, 我也不必客氣, 十分輕鬆愉快. 大家都在異鄉為客, 逢年過節不免感慨萬千, 當月生日的朋友就不必帶菜, 接受大家的道賀, 這個聚會也可以正名為 "慶生會". 為了對菜的品質加以管制, 所以要建立榮譽的考核制度, 每次聚會當場投票, 選出該月的最佳菜餚, 冠以 "本城第一櫥" 頭銜以資獎勵. 再一點, 現代社會分工很細, 真是隔行如隔山, 如果我們輪流在茶餘飯後, 把自己混飯吃這一行裡的新發展作一個簡報, 大家輕鬆愉快的討論討論. 這樣一來, 這個聚會既遂了口腹之欲, 精神上得到慰藉, 又可以學習一點新知識, 一石三鳥, 多麼的有意思. 諸位以為如何?"
言罷掌聲如雷, 一致通過.

時間真快, 慶生會斷斷續續地已有了好幾年的歷史. 此城的聚會第一次只有卅幾人, 上個月已有一百廿人參加. 各家輪流早已裝不下, 而要在外洽借場地了. 除了上述的三個目的, 慶生會對外還常參加傳播中華文化的的活動. 年終和歲初抗議斷交的遊行, 會友們扶老攜幼一個也沒缺席, 都是團結的表現. 趙大廚鄭重地建議海外大城小鎮的同胞們都應該成立一個慶生會, 保險你會得到意想不到的好處. 當然囉, 咱大廚願意義務擔任榮譽顧問, 常常像你提供寶貴的意見. 只有一個小小的條件, 下次趙顧問雲遊到貴寶地的時候, 貴會要粗茶便飯意思意思, 千萬不得忘記.

對不起, 話頭扯遠了. 本城第一次聚會, 趙大廚使出渾身解數, 料理了一道紅花青椒牛肉, 色香味俱全. 這個紅花嘛是本大廚自作主張錦上添花, 用胡蘿蔔切了一朵玫瑰花兒置於牛肉之上, 為了搏取選民好感, 爭取神聖的一票也, 用心不可謂不良苦. 來到慶生會場不記名字交菜編號碼; 要是記名的話, 以趙大廚的人緣之佳, 自然是眾望所歸穩操勝券. 大會設想十分周到, 正在眾家兄弟姐妹你爭我奪品嚐美味之時, 有一名念比較文學的酸仔忽然詩興大發, 到每一道菜牌面前題詩留念. 一盤蒜泥白肉, 他題上: "泣別了白山黑水". 一道珍珠丸子他題了: "恨不相逢未嫁時". 實在是文不對題, 匪夷所思, 光怪陸離, 不通之至. 最最胡說八道的, 是他竟然在趙大廚精心製作的青椒牛肉上題了一個: "鮮花插在牛糞上". 害得趙大廚差一點當場吐血, 到現在還記恨心頭, 每次相見均已白眼相加. 被酸仔攪了局, 趙大廚堂堂名菜竟然以零票慘遭落選, 下場十分淒涼. 小金以一道麻婆豆腐奪得錦標歸.

第二次聚會焉, 趙大廚心想既然技不如人, 那只有出奇制勝, 用半罐辣椒醬, 半罐甜麵醬, 別出心裁的炒了一道 "苦瓜甜酸肉". 刀功, 火候, 用料都沒得話講, 味道嘛自己不敢隨便品嚐, 想像中一定是不錯的. 又怕酸仔重施故技詩興大發, 自己先發制人在菜牌上題名 "人生如夢", 取其酸甜苦辣鹹俱陳之意. 此菜既具匠心, 又富創意, 還幽幽的散發文藝得芳香, 真是人間珍品. 開票結果趙大廚得到四票, 以倒數第五落選, 得票率比上次高達兩倍, 內心十分安慰. 這兩票當中, 一票是小任坄的, 因為他老大搭了趙大廚的便車, 如果不惠賜神聖的一票, 害怕趙大廚心狠手辣要他在風雪中走路回家. 投完了票他不停的嘮叨良心十分不安, 令趙大廚非常生氣. 另外一票嘛, 不講你也知道, 是趙大廚自己投給自己的. 此屆慶生會小華以臺南肉羹得到冠軍.

後來的慶生會嘛, 趙大廚也懶得詳細的一一報告. 好像是小咪以麻辣雞絲得過冠軍, 小華當仁不讓以 "三冠王" 的資格獲得 "明城第一廚" 的頭銜. 趙大廚苦苦掙扎, 陸續的推出千奇百怪各式名菜, 總是受的氣多, 得的票少. 最近的一次以一道 "陽春白雪" (菠菜炒年糕)得票高達五票之多, 雖然離冠軍六十一票還有一段距離,但是一點點向前進步, 潛力仍在, 前途還是未可限量. 十年以前, 趙某人有名詩嘆曰: "路邊一隻鍋牛, 慢吞吞無憂無愁, 勇向前絕不停留, 總有天爬上枝頭." 形容的十分貼切.

因為競爭得激烈, 諸子百菜的水準也一天比一天提高. 石頭小兄到永和留學,推出燒餅油條; 臺生老弟挑燈夜戰, 亂刀斬蝦仁, 削去了半個指甲; 乃光愚弟表演椒鹽雞球, 技術太差, 結果火燒油鍋, 變成了焦焰煤球. 其中可歌可泣得事跡不勝枚舉. 那名列前矛的大家前呼後擁, 你讚美, 我請教, 無限風光; 那敬陪末座的, 門前冷落車馬稀, 真是 "世事如菜盤盤新, 人情似紙張張薄". 趙大廚天生的牛脾氣, 事無大小, 打落牙齒和血吞無妨, 但是絕不肯輕易的認輸. 格老子的愚公面前擋著山都要移去, 天下只有硬不起來的骨頭, 沒有炒不出來的小菜. 經過苦苦的思索, 又 "頓悟" 出來一個道理, 原來嘴巴是人體中一個頗為實際的器官, 一口咬下去, 是何味道都無可遁形, 沒有討價還價的餘地. 不像腦袋瓜子還會不切實際的胡思亂想一番. 要炒好菜實在沒有第二條捷徑, 只有腳踏實地, 痛下苦工夫.

趙大廚死想搞通以後說幹就幹, 回到家中將各類食譜通通搬將出來, "三更燈火五更雞, 正是男兒下廚時", 咬緊牙齒, 捲起袖子, 埋頭苦練, 成日的與菜刀砧板為伍. 時光荏苒, 歲月不居, 半年的時光就在煎, 蒸, 炸, 炒, 燜, 溜, 燉, 滷, 烤, 燻中匆匆的溜去. 趙大廚也練就了一手好功夫, 與往日 "八寶菜", "萬年鍋"時期相差以不可以道里計. 在十八般武藝中又以 "紅燒八寶鴨" 一菜最為著力. 現在平均每週要燒一隻鴨子反覆的練習, 本是不練到爐火純青絕不肯輕易的出山. 鴨子燒得多了, 人也變的有點鴨裡鴨氣, 懶的跑, 又飛不起來. 參加慶生會嘛還是拿八寶菜, 萬年鍋敷衍, 作出一副敷衍, 作出一副自暴自棄不知長進的模樣. 對於諸位老大的冷嘲熱諷,只是百般的忍耐不動聲色. 這一招有個名堂, 叫做 "假扮豬, 吃老虎". 時間是真理最好的證言, 等到有朝一日趙大廚的鴨子端出來, 要較那坄我票的, 不投我票的, 笑我的, 不笑我的, 都意滿心歡或者無可奈何, 但是卻異口同聲的, 豎起大拇指來道一聲: "天下第一鴨!"

剛來美的自省錄

今天一早起來就是打算把剛來美國的自省錄放上來. 可是和媽媽大發一頓脾氣. 很不想做這件事了. 現在想想還是放.

我一直都在想一個問題. 如果有工作, 我可以很早起來. 但是, 如果沒有, 不管如何下定決心, 早起都不大可能. 這是為啥? 以下是我剛來美國一九九六年六月廿一日後幾個月的紀錄. 裡面似乎是另一個人寫的. 和現在大不一樣. 紀錄一下, 想比較比較, 看看為啥...


自省錄

子曰: 逝者如斯夫, 不捨晝夜.
曾子曰: 吾日三省吾身, 為人謀而不忠乎, 與朋友交而不信乎, 傳不習乎?


6/27 星期四, 下午微雨

到美國以 7 天, 每日飽食終日, 無所事事, 真是不知所措, 似乎身心俱疲.
"朱子治家格言" 每日晨起, 灑掃庭院!! 一日之計在於晨...
早上六點起來必先摺好舖蓋, 藥先行吃下, 勿待媽媽叫之後.
伏地 40 伸 20 (first)
謹記!!! 勿忘!!!

9:30 pm

莊xx

--------------------------------

8/2 星期五 早上厚陰

早上一覺醒來猶先做半個小時體操後喝水吃藥
喝水宜喝 3 大杯!

伏地 90

8:00~8:30 中醫
8:40~10:00 龍翼
10:20~11:30 看小瑋的數學!
1:30~2:00: 中醫
2:30~4:00 Mr. Copy Time
4:20~5:30 作 1

做事宜有杯水在旁邊!


----------------------------------------


8/25 1996 星期日

我不是不知道自己的身體不怎麼好, 但是, 節制和強迫必改變你的體質,
所以體操和伏地要做, 同時我希望早上起來三大杯水是必要的, 而能起來
在鬧鐘第一響時最好.

P.s 如果能跑一跑更好!

體操: 早上: 轉頭, 轉肩, 轉手(前後), 左右搖腰, 轉腰, 拉背, 四頭肌, 拉腳筋, 鬆筋, 直拉, 長高運動, 拉阿里斯腳腱.
晚上: 轉手, 伸展, 長高, 拉筋, 鬆筋.
按摩屬於晚上: 部分: 背, 腰, 膝, 踝, 屁股, 牙齒, maybe 眼睛

晚上少吃!
good night

8/25 1996 莊xx Jack

--------------------------------------------

人生幸福與否, 全看 "早晨的時間" 怎麼過
有目的的人絕不可能有 "無謂的時間"

半年是很容易過去的, 10 年一眨眼就過了
廢物只能在這些時間重複著吃, 喝,
拉, 撒, 睡, 英文將成為主攻的課程, 寧願
犧牲 gym class logical 一定得搞懂.
荒謬的過去不再回頭, 頭也不回地, 繼續走.

2/23 Jack 莊xx


------------------------------------

油雞

這是我妹上次去他婆家, 跟他夫婿的爸爸學的.

材料:

雞, 醬油, 冰糖, 大蒜頭, 料酒


做法:

熱油爆蒜
雞皮朝鍋底放入一分鐘左右
倒入醬油料酒水冰糖一二分鐘
把雞翻面, 皮朝上, 蓋鍋, 滾後中小火廿分鐘左右
中間把汁林在雞皮上色, 煮至汁剩一碗, 起鍋
湯汁倒碗, 可沾吃.


*在煮雞的時候可以放一快橫切的排骨. 會非常好吃!

Her

I found her tonight accidentally. I forgot how I did that... I somehow found her younger sister. Then through her younger sister, I found her. She is married. My gosh, I hope they are all well right now. Let's hope this nuclear thing will hold.

外公的一些事

昨天跟舅舅談到外公在抗戰的經歷. 怕忘了. 紀錄如下:

外公是民國十二年出生. 他在抗戰剛開始的時候, 十四歲. 淞滬抗戰三個月結束, 他們舉家逃難. 逃到一個, 好像是他們章家的墓園, 在一座山上. 聽外公說的好像逃到很遠的地方, 但是, 現在從蘇州坐公車其實只要兩個小時, 而且依照現在的行政區域, 其實也還是在蘇州的邊上. 附近有戶人人家讓外公一家和其他逃難而至的人下榻. 那戶人家有牧場, 外公回憶說他那個時期幾乎天天喝牛奶, 是很香甜的回憶! 他也幫忙擠牛奶, 談起來也是津津. 如此半年, 他們一家才回家. 那時他大概是初中. 後來一兩年進入高中, 但是常換學校, 因為跟著他父親奔波於滬蘇之間. 但是, 這裡我對那時候的校制不是很清楚. 或許不是初中高中那樣分也說不定. 反正是中學. 後來家裡的情況不很好, 家裡無法供他讀完高中, 他轉到職業學校去, 一開始在日本人的電報學校. 後來不知道啥原因, 可能是後來又搬到蘇州當地去了, 他到一位姓孫的中國人開設的電報學校就讀. 外公大概到戰後不知道多久才知道, 那位孫先生竟是國府的地下人員. 舅舅說, 外公以前還在臺灣借我們家請過那位孫先生.

大概一年, 一年多後, 外公學成了. 就到當時的電報局去工作. 在抗戰, 電報局當然是掌握在日本人手裡. 我的大姨出生於一九四三年九月(待考), 往前推算, 可以得知外公和外婆結縭應該是一年前. 看樣子, 外公在電報其實做沒多久, 就和外婆訂婚, 結婚了. 此之後, 外公的丈人是當時非常有錢的一個人. 有銀行一家, 錢莊幾家, 布料零售批發是本行, 等等... 外公在婚後, 就到丈人的錢莊去工作了. 抗戰後, 外公在招商局的工作也是由丈人鼎力相助. 當時的招商局長, 被外公的丈人請吃飯, 席上有兩塊崁玉的屏風非常漂亮. 價值當時的兩萬美元(待考). 局長看到了說, 好漂亮! 飯後, 局長一回到家, 兩個屏風已在府上. 隔天, 外公被發表為招商局船員, 還是高級船員.

The charge of the light brigade

The Charge of the Light Brigade

Half a league, half a league,
  Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
  Rode the six hundred.
'Forward, the Light Brigade!
Charge for the guns' he said:
Into the valley of Death
  Rode the six hundred.


'Forward, the Light Brigade!'
Was there a man dismay'd?
Not tho' the soldiers knew
  Some one had blunder'd:
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
  Rode the six hundred.

Cannon to the right of them,
Cannon to the left of them,
Cannon in front of them
  Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
  Rode the six hundred.

Flash'd all their sabres bare,
Flash'd as they turned in air
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army while
  All the world wonder'd:
Plunged in the battery-smoke
Right thro' the line they broke;
Cossack and Russian
Reel'd from the sabre-stroke
Shatter'd and sunder'd.
Then they rode back, but not
Not the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
  Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came thro' the jaws of Death,
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
  Left of six hundred.

When can their glory fade?
O the wild charge they made!
  All the world wonder'd.
Honour the charge they made!
Honour the Light Brigade,
  Noble six hundred!


—Alfred, Lord Tennyson 1854


It was a poem written by Alfred, Lord Tennyson in 1854. Lord Tennyson wrote the poem right after he read the account of Battle of Balaclava between English cavalry and Russian troops in Cremean War. The battle was fruitless for English side and the loss was quite severe. The disaster was reported as a result of miscommunication, involving either a vague order from Lord Raglan(English commander), or a misinterpretation from the light brigade, or even both. The poem, however, stated that:

Was there a man dismay'd?
Not tho' the soldiers knew
  Some one had blunder'd...


I read a few introductions of the poem, they seemed to agree that the soldiers knew someone was blundered. But I was confused with the phrase "Not tho'" the first few times when I was reading the poem. I thought soldiers did not know. Ah, I was blundered... :p Also the line "valley of death" was mentioned by Wiki's writing that reminiscent of Psalm 23:

Psalm 23 (King James Version)

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
2 He maketh me to lie down in green [1] pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
3 He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
5 Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest [2] my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever. [3]

(http://www.christnotes.org/bible.php?q=Psalm+23)

This Crimean war was complicated. It involved Christian religious interest(Holy land issue), European politics(Napolean III's ambition, Russia & England and policeman of Europe, Weakened Ottoman state), trade interest(Dardanelle Strait), and so forth. This war was famous not for the war itself, but rather, for Florence Nightingale(南丁格爾). She pioneered in introducing modern nursing into English military and was dubbed "The lady with the lamp" for her habit of making rounds taking care wounded soldiers at night.

The war also had other significances, first use of the railway in war, the use of telegraph for war correspondence. Famous man like Leo Tolstoy was even called the first war correspondence for his "The Sevastopol Sketches", detailing the Russian soldiers and citizens of Sevastopol during the siege of Sevastopol. The famous "The thin red line" was also dubbed by English journalist, which meant soldiers holing a line to repulse the attack.

The poem wrote by Lord Tennyson was adored by the English people instantly. But there were another infamous poem by Rudyard Kipling. It told a story about the last of the light brigade soldiers after 40 years. While everyone could chanted the light brigade poem by Lord Tennyson, very few actually remembered the one by Rudyard Kipling. Here it is:

The last of the Light Brigade:

The Last of the Light Brigade

~Rudyard Kipling

There were thirty million English who talked of England's might,
There were twenty broken troopers who lacked a bed for the night.
They had neither food nor money, they had neither service nor trade;
They were only shiftless soldiers, the last of the Light Brigade.

They felt that life was fleeting; they knew not that art was long,
That though they were dying of famine, they lived in deathless song.
They asked for a little money to keep the wolf from the door;
And the thirty million English sent twenty pounds and four!

They laid their heads together that were scarred and lined and grey;
Keen were the Russian sabres, but want was keener than they;
And an old Troop-Sergeant muttered, "Let us go to the man who writes
The things on Balaclava the kiddies at school recites."

They went without bands or colours, a regiment ten-file strong,
To look for the Master-singer who had crowned them all in his song;
And, waiting his servant's order, by the garden gate they stayed,
A desolate little cluster, the last of the Light Brigade.

They strove to stand to attention, to straighten the toil-bowed back;
They drilled on an empty stomach, the loose-knit files fell slack;
With stooping of weary shoulders, in garments tattered and frayed,
They shambled into his presence, the last of the Light Brigade.

The old Troop-Sergeant was spokesman, and "Beggin' your pardon," he said,
"You wrote o' the Light Brigade, sir. Here's all that isn't dead.
An' it's all come true what you wrote, sir, regardin' the mouth of hell;
For we're all of us nigh to the workhouse, an' we thought we'd call an' tell.

"No, thank you, we don't want food, sir; but couldn't you take an' write
A sort of 'to be continued' and 'see next page' o' the fight?
We think that someone has blundered, an' couldn't you tell 'em how?
You wrote we were heroes once, sir. Please, write we are starving now."

The poor little army departed, limping and lean and forlorn.
And the heart of the Master-singer grew hot with "the scorn of scorn."
And he wrote for them wonderful verses that swept the land like flame,
Till the fatted souls of the English were scourged with the thing called Shame.

They sent a cheque to the felon that sprang from an Irish bog;
They healed the spavined cab-horse; they housed the homeless dog;
And they sent (you may call me a liar), when felon and beast were paid,
A cheque, for enough to live on, to the last of the Light Brigade.*

O thirty million English that babble of England's might,
Behold there are twenty heroes who lack their food to-night;
Our children's children are lisping to "honour the charge they made - "
And we leave to the streets and the workhouse the charge of the Light Brigade!

*this verse was present in the first collection but was removed from the later editions.

(Source: Mostly from Wikipedia: The charge of the light brigade, battle of balaclava, cimean war, Florence Nightingale, The Last of the Light Brigade, and other poetry sites which I forgot to record.)

一個感想, 小站上的事件

今天小站上看到一個道歉啟事. 甲網友向乙網友道歉(此匿名). 事情是這樣的. 甲喜歡一邊貼照片, 一邊寫一些文章. 這一次, 他不例外. 乙一直都很喜歡甲的文章和照片, 所以都去捧場. 這一次也不例外. 乙說, 這些照片的層次真的是好棒的說...(類似的句子). 甲竟然回了一個留言說, 這樣的句子不好. 是下等的台灣人才這樣用. 講話很直, 用的辭彙很強烈. 於是, 乙說, 他再也不來甲的論串了. 所以甲網友就登了這個道歉啟事.

這讓我看到很有趣的現象. 台灣的內鬨, 自台灣的留學生來看, 尤其是對文化有很深厚感情的, 是錐心刺骨. 當然這也要看年紀. 不同年紀的留學生, 不同的反應. 但是, 最有趣的地方還在於, 近廿年來的台灣文化似被一些上述的台灣留學生認為與台獨有絕對的關係. 在這點上, 大陸人則一點都無這種感覺. 大多數對這件事情的反應是, 認為這是台灣的網路語法. 他們和台獨無正式關係. 在我現在看就是, 他們把台灣看成就是台灣一省. 這樣的語法, 不過就是台灣特色罷了. 但是, 在廿年之前, 台灣的語法不是這樣的. 這是民國八十五年之後, 越來越本省化的結果. 是的, 愈來愈把自己的地位縮小到一個地理位置的結果.

可是, 我還是認為不能把這語法當作是下等台灣人才這樣用. 這位甲網友似乎非常看重某些生活上的禮儀. 這對他自己和孩子無可厚非. 但是, 要把這當作全中華民國的標準, 不僅困難, 也很有問題. 他想必理性上也知道. 但是, 感情上卻無法自已. 而這也是我所害怕的. 我覺得即使是那些台灣人不認為自己是中國人, 他們的言行在我眼裡仍出不了中國的文化. 除非有一天他們講英文. 但是, 他這種心情我卻是可以了解的. 因為我也曾把這種語法看做是和台獨一塊兒的. 去了幾次台灣之後, 我卻愈來愈不在乎. 而且, 語法的演變不是一般人所可以左右, 台灣這種地方意識的抬頭是很正常的事情. 但是, 他的心情我可以了解. 對於島上那些努力於宣傳拋棄自身文化的中國人, 這種撕心的痛是很容易理解的. 但是, 大陸人卻不見得了解了.

讓我提醒自己的是, 不能被政治上的情感衝昏頭. 以致於文化上的理性被淹沒了.

我的四個假想敵／余光中

二女幼珊在港參加僑生聯考，以第一志願分發台大外文系。聽到這消息，我鬆了一口氣，從此不必擔心四個女兒通通嫁給廣東男孩了。

我對廣東男孩當然並無偏見，在港六年，我班上也有好些可愛的廣東少年，頗討老師的歡心，但是要我把四個女兒全都讓那些“靚仔”、“叻仔”擄掠了去，卻捨不得。不過，女兒要嫁誰，說得灑脫些，是她們的自由意志，說得玄妙些呢，是因緣，做父親的又何必患得患失呢？何況在這件事上，做母親的往往位居要衝，自然而然成了女兒的親密顧問，甚至親密戰友，作戰的對象不是男友，卻是父親。等到做父親的驚醒過來，早已腹背受敵，難挽大勢了。

在父親的眼裡，女兒最可愛的時候是在十歲以前，因為那時她完全屬於自己。在男友的眼裡，她最可愛的時候卻在十七歲以後，因為這時她正像畢業班的學生，已經一心向外了。父親和男友，先天上就有矛盾。對父親來說，世界上沒有東西比稚齡的女兒更完美的了，唯一的缺點就是會長大，除非你用急凍術把她久藏，不過這恐怕是違法的，而且她的男友遲早會騎了駿馬或摩托車來，把她吻醒。

我未用太空艙的凍眠術，一任時光催迫，日月輪轉，再揉眼時，怎麼四個女兒都已依次長大，昔日的童話之門砰地一關，再也回不去了。四個女兒，依次是珊珊、幼珊、佩珊、季珊。簡直可以排成一條珊瑚礁。珊珊十二歲的那年，有一次，未滿九歲的佩珊忽然對來訪的客人說：「喂，告訴你，我姐姐是一個少女了！」在座的大人全笑了起來。

曾幾何時，惹笑的佩珊自己，甚至最幼稚的季珊，也都在時光的魔杖下，點化成“少女”了。冥冥之中，有四個“少男”正偷偷襲來，雖然躡手躡足，屏聲止息，我卻感到背後有四雙眼睛，像所有的壞男孩那樣，目光灼灼，心存不軌，只等時機一到，便會站到亮處，裝出偽善的笑容，叫我岳父。

我當然不會應他。哪有這麼容易的事！我像一棵果樹，天長地久在這裡立了多年，風霜雨露，樣樣有份，換來果實累累，不勝負荷。而你，偶爾過路的小子，竟然一伸手就來摘果子，活該蟠地的樹根絆你一跤！

而最可惱的，卻是樹上的果子，竟有自動落入行人手中的樣子。樹怪行人不該擅自來摘果子，行人卻說是果子剛好掉下來，給他接著罷了。這種事，總是裡應外合才成功的。當初我自己結婚，不也是有一位少女開門揖盜嗎？“堡壘最容易從內部攻破”，說得真是不錯。不過彼一時也，此一時也。同一個人，過街時討厭汽車，開車時卻討厭行人。現在是輪到我來開車。

好多年來，我已經習於和五個女人為伍，浴室裡彌漫著香皂和香水氣味，沙發上散置皮包和發卷，餐桌上沒有人和我爭酒，都是天經地義的事。戲稱吾廬為“女生宿舍”，也已經很久了。做了“女生宿舍”的舍監，自然不歡迎陌生的男客，尤其是別有用心的一類。但自己轄下的女生，尤其是前面的三位，已有“不穩”的現象，卻令我想起葉慈的一句詩：

　　一切已崩潰，失去重心。

我的四個假想敵，不論是高是矮，是胖是瘦，是學醫還是學文，遲早會從我疑懼的迷霧裡顯出原形，一一走上前來，或迂回曲折，囁嚅其詞，或開門見山，大言不慚，總之要把他的情人，也就是我的女兒，對不起，從此領去。無形的敵人最可怕，何況我在亮處，他在暗裡，又有我家的“內奸”接應，真是防不勝防。只怪當初沒有把四個女兒及時冷藏，使時間不能拐騙，社會也無由污染。現在她們都已大了，回不了頭。我那四個假想敵，那四個鬼鬼祟祟的地下工作者，也都已羽毛豐滿，什么力量都阻止不了他們了。先下手為強，這件事，該趁那四個假想敵還在襁褓的時候，就予以解決的。至少美國詩人納許（Ｏｇｄｅｎ Ｎａｓｈ，１９０２～１９７１）勸我們如此。他在一首妙詩《由女嬰之父來唱的歌》（Ｓｏｎｇ ｔｏ Ｂｅ Ｓｕｎｇ ｂｙ ｔｈｅＦａｔｈｅｒ ｏｆ Ｉｎｆａｎｔ Ｆｅｍａｌｅ Ｃｈｉｌｄｒｅｎ）之中，說他生了女兒吉兒之后，惴惴不安，感到不知什麼地方正有個男嬰也在長大，現在雖然還渾渾噩噩，口吐白沫，卻注定將來會搶走他的吉兒。於是做父親的每次在公園裡看見嬰兒車中的男嬰，都不由神色一變，暗暗想：「會不會是這傢伙？」

想著想著，他“殺機陡萌”，便要解開那男嬰身上的別針，朝他的爽身粉裡撒胡椒粉，把鹽撒進他的奶瓶，把沙撒進他的菠菜汁，再扔頭悠游的鱷魚到他的嬰兒車裡陪他游戲，逼他在水深火熱之中掙扎而去，去娶別人的女兒。足見詩人以未來的女婿為假想敵，早已有了前例。

不過一切都太遲了。當初沒有當機立斷，採取非常措施，像納許詩中所說的那樣，真是一大失策。如今的局面，套一句史書上常見的話，已經是“寇入深矣！”女兒的牆上和書桌的玻璃墊下，以前的海報和剪報之類，還是披頭，拜絲，大衛，凱西弟的形象，現在紛紛都換上男友了。至少，灘頭陣地已經被入侵的軍隊占領了去，這一仗是必敗的了。記得我們小時，這一類的照片仍被列為機密要件，不是藏在枕頭套裡，貼著夢境，便是夾在書堆深處，偶爾翻出來神往一翻，哪有這麼二十四小時眼前供奉的？

這一批形跡可疑的假想敵，究竟是哪年哪月開始入侵廈門街余宅的，已經不可考了。只記得六年前遷港之后，攻城的軍事便換了一批口操粵語少年來接手。至於交戰的細節，就得問名義上是守城的那幾個女將，我這位“昏君”是再也搞不清的了。只知道敵方的炮火，起先是瞄准我家的信箱，那些歪歪斜斜的筆跡，久了也能猜個七分；繼而是集中在我家的電話，“落彈點”就在我書桌的背後，我的文苑就是他們的沙場，一夜之間，總有十幾次腦震蕩。那些粵音平上去入，有九聲之多，也令我難以研判敵情。現在我帶幼珊回了廈門街，那頭的廣東部隊輪到我太太去抵擋，我在這頭，只要留意台灣健兒，任務就輕松多了。

信箱被襲，只如戰爭的默片，還不打緊。其實我寧可多情的少年勤寫情書，那樣至少可以練習作文，不致在視聽教育的時代荒廢了中文。可怕的還是電話中彈，那一串串警告的鈴聲，把戰場從門外的信箱擴至書房的腹地，默片變成了身歷其聲，假想敵在實彈射擊了。更可怕的，卻是假想敵真的闖進了城來，成了有血有肉的真敵人，不再是假想了好玩的了，就像軍事演習到中途，忽然真的打起來了一樣。真敵人是看得出來的。在某一女兒的接應之下，他占領了沙發的一角，從此兩人呢喃細語。囁嚅密談，即使脈脈相對的時候，那氣氛也濃得化不開，窒得全家人都透不過氣來。這時幾個姐妹早已回避得遠遠的了，任誰都看得出情況有異。萬一敵人留下來吃飯，那空氣就更為緊張，好像擺好姿勢，面對照相機一般。平時鴨塘一般的餐桌，四姐妹這時像在演啞劇，連筷子和調羹都似乎得到了消息，忽然小心翼翼起來。明知這僭越的小子未必就是真命女婿，（誰曉得寶貝女兒現在是十八變中的第幾變呢？）心裡卻不由自主升起一股淡淡的敵意。也明知女兒正如將熟之瓜，終有一天會蒂落而去，卻希望不是隨眼前這自負的小子。

當然，四個女兒也自有不乖的時候，在惱怒的心情下，我就恨不得四個假想敵趕快出現，把她們統統帶走。但是那一天真要來到時，我一定又會懊悔不已。我能夠想象，人生的兩大寂寞，一是退休之日，一是最小的孩子終於也結婚之後。宋淇有一天對我說：「真羡慕你的女兒全在身邊！」真的嗎？至少目前我並不覺得，自己有什麼可羡之處。也許真要等到最小的季珊也跟著假想敵度蜜月去了，才會和我存並坐在空空的長沙發上，翻閱她們小時相簿，追憶從前，六人一車長途壯游的盛況，或是晚餐桌上，熱氣蒸騰，大家共享的燦爛燈光。人生有許多事情，正如船後的波紋，總要過後才覺得美的。這麼一想，又希望那四個假想敵，那四個生手笨腳的小伙子，還是多吃幾口閉門羹，慢一點出現吧。

袁枚寫詩，把生女兒說成“情疑中副車”，這書袋掉得很有意思，卻也流露了重男輕女的封建意識。照袁枚的說法，我是連中了四次副車，命中率夠高的了。余宅的四個小女孩現在變成了四個小婦人，在假想敵環伺之下，若問我擇婿有何條件，一時倒恐怕答不上來。沉吟半晌，我也許會說：「這件事情，上有月下老人的婚姻譜，誰也不能竄改，包括韋固，下有兩個海誓山盟的情人，‘二人同心，其利斷金’，我憑什麼要逆天拂人，梗在中間？何況終身大事，神秘莫測，事先無法推理，事後不能悔棋，就算交給２１世紀的電腦，恐怕也算不出什麼或然率來。倒不如故示慷慨，偽作輕鬆，搏一個開明父親的美名，到時候帶顆私章，去做主婚人就是了。」

問的人笑了起來，指著我說：：什麼叫做‘偽作輕鬆’？可見你心裡並不輕松。」

我當然不很輕松，否則就不是她們的父親了。例如人種的問題，就很令人煩惱。萬一女兒發痴，愛上一個聳肩攤手口香糖嚼個不停的小怪人，該怎麼辦呢？在理性上，我願意“有婿無類”，做一個大大方方的世界公民。但是在感情上，還沒有大方到讓一個臂毛如猿的小伙子把我的女兒抱過門檻。

現在當然不再是“嚴夷夏之防”的時代，但是一任單純的家庭擴充成一個小型的聯合國，也大可不必。問的人又笑了，問我可曾聽說混血兒的聰明超乎常人。我說：「聽過，但是我不希罕抱一個天才的‘混血孫’。我不要一個天才兒童叫我Ｇｒａｎｄｐａ，我要他叫我外公。」

問的人不肯罷休：「那麼省籍呢？」

「省籍無所謂，」我說。「我就是蘇閩聯姻的結果，還不壞吧？當初我母親從福建寫信回武進，說當地有人向她求婚。娘家大驚小怪，說‘那麼遠！怎麼就嫁給南蠻！’後來娘家發現，除了言語不通之外，這位閩南姑爺並無可疑之處。這幾年，廣東男孩鍥而不舍，對我家的壓力很大，有一天閩粵結成了秦晉，我也不會感到意外。如果有個台灣少年特別巴結我，其志又不在跟我談文論詩，我也不會怎麼為難他的。至於其他各省，從黑龍江直到雲南，口操各種方言的少年，只要我女兒不嫌他，我自然也歡迎。」

「那麼學識呢？」

「學什麼都可以。也不一定要是學者，學者往往不是好女婿，更不是好丈夫。只有一點：中文必須精通。中文不通，將禍延吾孫！」

客又笑了。「相貌重不重要？」他再問。

「你真是迂闊之至！」這次輪到我發笑了。「這種事，我女兒自己會注意，怎麼會要我來操心？」

笨客還想問下去，忽然門鈴響起。我起身去開大門，發現長發亂處，又一個假想敵來掠余宅。

廁所的故事---阿盛

開始念小學那一年，我第一次看見衛生紙，至於正式使用，是在二年級的時候，在這之前，解手後都是用竹片子或黃麻稈一揩了事。大人們的廁所在房間內，用花布簾圍住壁角，裡邊放著馬桶；小孩子們沒有限制，水溝、牆角、甘蔗田以及任何可以蹲下來的地方，統統是廁所。

在學校裡，老師天天交代我們：要穿鞋子，要常洗頭髮，要買衛生紙，不要隨地大小便。我回家跟爸說要買鞋子，爸說沒那麼「好命」；我提起衛生紙的好處，媽說那太浪費，小孩子不懂賺錢的辛苦；我又引用老師的話，說用竹片子揩屁股會生痔瘡，爸生氣了，他說老師一定瘋了，因為他從一歲到二十多歲都是這樣，也沒生過痔瘡；我小聲地說，應該有廁所，祖父說，奇怪，水溝不是很多嗎？最後爸解釋說，衛生紙太薄，容易破，揩不乾淨。這以後，媽准許我用粗草紙，那是大人們用的，不過，我還是寧可用竹片子，粗草紙就帶到學校讓老師檢查，我們班上有一半以上的同學都和我一樣，老師也不再要我們買衛生紙了。

二年級下學期，三姑帶著表弟從臺北來我家玩，吃過中飯，表弟說要上廁所，我帶他到門前的水溝邊，他很驚訝，硬是不肯脫下褲子，是說沒有東西擋著他拉不出來，我帶他到豬舍旁邊，他蹲在地上，不時看著我，然後站起來，說是也拉不出來，我只好走開，隔一陣子就喊：「好了沒有？」表弟苦著臉走出來對我說沒有，我拉起他跑到學校，他急忙衝進廁所，出來之後，滿頭大汗。在回家的路上，他一直問我：為什麼廁所裡沒有水箱子？為什麼有很多很多白白小小的蟲？還有，在水溝裡拉屎，警察為什麼不管？我說警察的兒子也和我們一樣，他就說，回臺北以後要報告老師，叫老師來抓警察，我聽了感到很生氣，跟他說，警察和真平、四郎一樣偉大，不能抓，他不相信，還說校長可以管老師，老師可以管警察，真平和四郎跟總統一樣大，不是跟警察一樣大，我氣極了，不再理他。

三年級放寒假的時候，爸和叔叔們合資蓋了一間廁所。「落成」那天，我們幾個小孩子熱烈地討論誰應該第一個使用，六叔把我們趕開，他說他是高中生，當然是第一。他進去了，一下子又走出來，很不高興的樣子，原來，有人先進去過了，六叔一口咬定是那個泥水匠，他嘀咕著說要找泥水匠算帳，我們建議六叔把他抓來灌屎，像灌香腸一樣，六叔說好。那天晚上，爸和叔叔們在院子裡聊天，聊到這件事，二叔說，新廁所有外來的「黃金」，大吉大利，六叔不同意，他認為新廁所應該由自己人開張，才有新氣象，爸沒有意見。我對爸說，六叔只知道拉屎要爭第一，六叔一巴掌打在我屁股上，媽說該打。我很不甘心，跑去告訴祖父，祖父走出來，把六叔罵了一頓：「你吃飯爭第一，拉屎爭第一，為什麼英文只考了二十──二十──」，我說二十七分，祖父接下去：「二十七分！啊？」五叔在一旁笑，他說這也可以算第一，六叔說，五哥以前數學只考二十四分，烏龜笑鱉沒尾巴，祖父說：「都是尿桶！」過後，我問六叔，還要不要把泥水匠抓來灌屎，他說我以後再這麼問，他就灌我。

我升上五年級，村長換了人，新村長說，要好好整頓村裡的環境衛生。首先，他出錢蓋了四幢公用廁所，又一家接一家地勸人蓋廁所，他跟祖父說，廁所和吃飯一樣重要，祖父說那有這種事！一有空，他就騎著腳踏車到處巡視，發現有小孩隨地大小便，當場打屁股，我們班上有好幾個男生被他打過，都很氣他，叫他「哭鐵面」。每次開村民大會，他一定會再三地說明廁所的重要性，有一次還說「廁所就是生命」，六叔跑到臺上去，不知道跟他說了些什麼，他馬上又補充了一句：「廁所為成家之本！」末了，他建議大家不要再用竹片麻稈揩屁股，因為這樣會得破傷風，有人站起來發言，說不會得破傷風，應該是會生糞口蟲，我們學校一位女老師立刻又發言，她認為應該是生痔瘡才對，然後指導員出來解釋，他說，應該是會長瘤才合理，他的一個朋友就是這樣。到後來，村長說：「統統有可能，不過，得破傷風的機會最大。」那一次大會後有贈送紀念品，每家三包衛生紙，兩包樟腦丸，一把長柄豬鬃刷子，鄉裡派來的衛生員特別交代，刷子是清洗廁所用的，媽說這種刷子這麼好，用來洗刷廁所太可惜，所以一直放在廚房裡使用。

初一那年冬天，嘉南平原大地震，震塌了村裡兩幢公用廁所，救災工作結束之後，村長開始計畫重建廁所，村長太太負責募捐工作，她幾乎天天都在村子裡跑來跑去，那陣子，米菜肥料都缺貨，物價又貴，村長太太跑了兩個禮拜，還湊不到蓋一幢廁所的錢。又過了幾天，鄰村有個有錢人到我們村子來，他說他願意負責蓋廁所的經費，條件是，水肥歸他收一年，村裡的人開會通過，半個月後，廁所蓋好了，還裝了水箱，那個有錢人每天派車子來載水肥，聽說他包辦了好幾個村子的水肥，轉手賣給魚塭和農家，一桶二十五塊錢。過了一陣子，他問村長，為什麼你們這裡的水肥特別少？村長說，本來就這麼些，他不相信，硬說有人偷肥，村長說那東西又不能吃，誰要偷？兩個人先是在路上吵，一直吵到派出所，又吵回路上，然後再吵進派出所。警察耐心地分析：這裡的人八成以上種甘蔗，根本不要肥料，村長保證沒有人偷去吃，那個有錢人氣得臉都歪了，他嘀咕著說，這樣下去會賠本，生意真不好做，怎麼大家不多拉一點？怎麼不多拉一點呢？大約一個月後，政府大量配給農肥，接著肥料兩次跌價，那個有錢人再不派車來載水肥了，村長把他找來，要他按照契約清理水肥，他說要那麼多幹什麼？又不能吃！兩個人又到派出所去，結果，一直到我念初二上學期，他都派車清理水肥，一個月一次。有一次，六叔在路上遇見他，問他水肥好不好賣？他說生意不好做；六叔又問他，想不想再跟我們村子訂契約？他說只有瘋到第三期的人才會這樣問。

我讀高一的時候，鄉裡舉辦中北部春節旅行，我也參加。第一天晚上，住在臺中火車站附近的一家旅館，這才第一次看見了抽水馬桶，以前只看過圖片。住進旅館以後，大家都往廁所裡跑，鄉長站在一邊維持秩序，一面叫著慢慢來，他說留得屎橛在，那怕沒得拉？等輪到我，我一頭衝進去，看見抽水馬桶，心裡有點害怕，還好我知道是用坐的，坐了上去，也不知怎麼搞的，幾乎用了兩百公斤的力量，仍然拉不出來，外頭敲門敲得很急，我在裡邊更急，好一陣子，看看是不會有「結果」了，只好出來，身上直冒汗，鄉長問：好啦？我說好了。那天晚上，好不容易熬到廁所空了，我才放心地走進去，蹲在馬桶上；以後的兩天，我都是這樣。第四天早上，我們正在整理行李，旅館的老闆娘氣沖沖的跑來，她說不知道是那些人弄壞了三個馬桶護圈，我們都說，那一定不是我們，老闆娘嘮叨了許久，她說護圈是新裝上的，怎麼坐得斷？真奇怪！

去年暑假，我回家鄉，找六叔聊天，聊起有關廁所的事。我對六叔的幾個孩子說，你們命好，我們小時候連廁所都沒有呢，他們不太相信。我說不但這樣，解手後都用竹片子揩屁股哪，他們說我欺騙兒童。六叔說，這是真的。八歲的小堂弟說，他要去報告級任老師，爸爸和堂哥愛撒謊；十歲的堂妹說，最好報告校長，因為校長比較「匈奴」，一定會打堂哥屁股；正在念初一的堂弟說，爸爸是石松，堂哥是余天，搭配得很好，真會「講笑話」。最後，他們聯合問我們一個問題：用竹片可以揩得乾淨嗎？六叔說大概可以，我說差不多啦。

──發表於一九七八年三月

最近在看張曉風主編的一個散文集, 三十年來的散文精選--錦繡天地好文章. 實在是好看到死... 這是其中一篇.

Question after Bollywood

One question after watching few Bollywood movies. Or, more precisely, one question was found after discussing Bollywood movies with my mom.

The question is:

How come there are so many dancing and singing in Bollywood movies, but not with Chinese movies?

The same question could apply to the Hollywood movie as well... How come there were many musicals back then, but so few now? What has been changed in the USA society?

I only saw one musical Chinese movie, which was from Hong Kong in 1960s. I saw many singing and some dancing from the clips on Youtube. Those were from Hong Kong between 1950s and 1960s as well. And frankly, I never saw those before I knew Youtube. I did not even dreamed it would exist.

During the discussion with my mom, she thought that the previous 100+ years of turmoil prevented Chinese from habit of dancing and singing. But India was colonized for few hundred years, I said. And many of them are still poor these days. I thought the Chinese intellectuals would be a factor since the culture was recorded by them throughout history. They failed to present a good picture of what we sang and danced in the old days.


But as I am writing these, I think India could really be an exceptional case. For I saw a few foreign films from Japan, Korea, England, France, Russia, German, Scandinavian, Africa, USA, South America, Spain...etc. There were not many of musicals in those Countries as far as I know. I would thought Africa would have many musicals. I did not see many African movies though. There were quite a few African American musicals. Anyway, I am still wondering why Chinese people don't dance and sing as much. As their classics said music was important, why didn't they dance and sing more, in movies, and in daily lives?

Interesting thought recorded.

書鈔: Emotional Intelligence

"These interpersonal abilities build on other emotional intelligences. People who make an excellent social impression, for example, are adept at monitoring their own expression of emotion, are keenly attuned to the ways others are reacting, and so are able to continually fine-tune their social performance, adjusting it to make sure they are having the desired effect. In that sense, they are like skilled actors.

However, if these interpersonal abilities are not balanced out by an astute sense of one' own needs and feelings and how to fulfill them, they can lead to a hollow social success--a popularity won at the cost of one's true satisfaction. Such is the argument of Mark Snyder, a University of Minnesota psychologist who has studied people whose social skills make them first-rate social chameleons, champions at making a good impression. Their psychological credo might well be a remark by W. H. Auden, who said that his private image of himself "is very different from the image which I try to create in the minds of others in order they may love me." That trade-off can be made if social skills outstrip the ability to know and honor one's own feelings; in order to be loved--or at least liked--the social chameleon will seem to be whatever those he is with seem to want. The sign that someone falls into this pattern, Snyder finds, is that they make an excellent impression, yet have few stable or satisfying intimate relationships. A more healthy pattern, of course, is to balance being true to oneself with social skills, using them with integrity.

Social chameleons, though, don't mind in the least saying one thing and doing another, if that will win them social approval. They simply live with the discrepancy between their public face and their private reality. Helena Deutsch, a psychoanalyst, called such people the "as-if personality," shifting personas with remarkable plasticity as they pick up signals from those around them. "For some people," Snyder told me, "the public and private person meshes well, while for others there seems to be only a kaleidoscope of changing appearances. They are like Woody Allen's Zelig, madly trying to fit in with whomever they are with."

Such people try to scan someone for a hint as to what is wanted from them before they make a response, rather than simply saying what they truly feel. To get along and be liked, they are willing to make people they dislike think the are friendly with them. And they use their social abilities to mold their actions as disparate social situations demand, so that they may act like very different people depending on whom they are with, swinging from bubbly sociability, say, to reserved withdrawal. To be sure, to the extent that these traits lead to effective impression management, they are highly prized in certain professions, notably acting, trial law, sales, diplomacy, and politics.

Another, perhaps more crucial kind of self-monitoring seems to make the difference between those who end up as anchorless social chameleons, trying to impress everyone, and those who can use their social polish more in keeping with their true feelings. That is the capacity to be true, as the saying has it, "to thine own self," which allows acting in accord with one's deepest feelings and values no mater what the social consequences. Such emotional integrity could well lead to, say, deliberately provoking a confrontation in order to cut through duplicity or denial--a clearing of the air that a social chameleon would never attempt."


Excerpt from p. 119-120 The Social Arts, Emotional Intelligence by Daniel Goleman, 2005 edition

番茄牛肉

材料:

牛肉切片醃, 醃料: 蔥薑醬油酒, 太白粉, 其他額外,像是滷醩
六個番茄, 過油燒爛
筍切片
荸薺切片
胡蘿蔔切片
扁豆
洋蔥(額外)

過程:

醃過的牛肉快炒八分熟, 起鍋
洋蔥過油炒出味道, 起鍋(額外)
筍過油炒
洋蔥筍荸薺胡蘿蔔拌入番茄, 如果水不夠多, 加水
煮四十分鐘
加醬油糖白醋鹽巴, 不能多
加入扁豆後, 大火滾
加入牛肉, 大火拌廿秒
移開爐子
完成


這是媽媽跟白阿姨學的. 白阿姨是以前我們在景美的鄰居. 後來我們搬到金華街的時候, 他來幫媽媽帶我和我妹妹. 媽媽說, 他們在景美的時後就很好. 好像是那時候, 媽媽去白阿姨加吃飯的時候學到的.

昨天媽媽去見證人姊妹盒子會時, 他帶的主菜就是這道. 自從他們說要舉辦這次聚會,媽媽就用力想著要帶啥. 因為他們說這次是 Chinese Food 聚會. 這些姊妹說他們都會帶中國菜，　媽媽聽了就有點緊張. 接下來的一個星期，　一會兒說要做滷肉, 一會兒說要做番茄牛肉, 又要帶涼拌蓮藕, 或者是涼拌馬蘭頭，　都無法做決定. 前天在市場買材料的時候，　他終於決定了要做番茄牛肉和馬蘭頭. 涼拌蓮藕也做了, 只是沒做好, 他也就沒有帶去.

他從聚餐回來後, 顯的很愉快. 他說,他到的時候，　那群姊妹都說，　啊，　Ｃｈｉｎｅｓｅ　Ｆｏｄｄ　ｉｓ　ｈｅｒｅ！　他聽了覺得很有趣，　走到餐桌旁才發現，　原來，　這些外國姊妹都是去普通的美國中餐館買了一些外賣．　　他一時啼笑皆非．　　那些中餐館的實在是不怎麼好吃．　　媽媽帶去的菜很受歡迎．　　都吃掉一大半．　　尤其是馬蘭頭！原來那些老姊妹都說，　現在更喜歡吃蔬菜了！　　

他們在聚會的時候先是唱歌唱了兩小時，　又是玩　Ａｐｐｌｅ　ｔｏ　Ａｐｐｌｅ　的遊戲．　　媽媽還贏了一次．　　他說他拿到牌子的時候都會偷笑，　覺得他拿的牌都很好！　　他玩回來的時候真是滿肚子的有聲有色．　　小瑋那時剛好打電話回來，　那時是十點，　他興奮的跟小瑋描述有趣的事情．　　真是好玩．　　

A man and his own self awareness

A man and his own self awareness is important. But how to achieve self awareness is different from person to person. Some people were born with a great sense of self awareness. He has many ways to feel his own presence such as, smarter than other people, calmer than other people, more courageous than other people. He might be able to accomplish more things. He might be more certain on things he has done. But for some, there are uncertainties. They might have self expectation too high to reach by themselves. Their internal senses might not be as sharp to perceive the world around him.

But for most people. The self awareness has to come from doing things. It would require laboring physically, interacting with other people, or thinking and feeling internally. For most people, self awareness could come most easily from physical accomplishment like, a carpenter finished a sculpture, or fixed a chair. Most people would love to call out to other people so they can see what they have been doing. In a way, they would like other people to acknowledge their existence, and more. Because, existence is only existence. How to exist is basic to self awareness as we human, especially to the more educated ones.

An architect realized his project from his blueprints into a physical standing structure. People will see it and said, wow. A carpenter would wish for that as well. A cook prepared a great dish, he would love people to come and enjoy the food. For those people, their accomplishments are visible. It is easier to present. But what about the others, like a policeman? What if this policeman never made an arrest and under his watch, the traffic were always smooth? After his retirement, how can people tell he in the lines of duty, accomplished a great deal for his community? What about a teacher? And most importantly, what about parents?

I heard an old saying somewhere, I forgot where. It said that a Dad needs not his kids saying much about him, but a Mom needs. Because Mom takes care of her kids in the house, the people outside know not much. This would be somewhat odd in a modern world since many moms works outside today . The saying is an ancient one.