There is near me an Asian sushi-beer-and-dinner establishment that I'll call the Asia Spot. The region is urban, so the clientele is a mix of some of just about everything, but the waitresses are all Asian, principally Japanese, Indonesian, Vietnamese, and Thai.
The Spot is a neighborhood bar. A large after-work crowd, many of them regulars, gather at happy hour. The social dynamics are curious. It would be an exaggeration to say, as someone did, that the black guys come to pick up white women, and the white men come to get away from them – but it would be an exaggeration of an underlying truth. The waitresses are a large part of the Spot's appeal.
A common subject of conversation among male customers is how very attractive these women are when compared to American women. It is not a thought safe to utter in mixed company. It is a very common thought. American women know it.
Why are the Asians attractive? What, to huge numbers of men, makes almost any Asian more appealing than almost any American? The question is much discussed by men at the Spot. (I should say here that when I say "women," I mean the majority of women, the mainstream, the center of gravity. Yes, there are exceptions and degrees.)
American women of my acquaintance offer several explanations, all of them wrong. For example, they say that Asian women are sexually easy. No. American women are sexually easy. The waitresses at the Spot are not available. They date, but they cannot be picked up.
Another explanation popular among American women is that men want submissive women, which Asians are believed to be. Again, no. For one thing, submissive people are bland and boring. In any event the waitresses aren't submissive. Many compete successfully in tough professions. Among Asian waitresses I know I count an electrical engineer who does wide-area networks, and a woman with a masters in biochemistry who, upon finding that research required a Ph.D and didn't pay, went back to school and became a dentist. Both of these wait tables to help out in the family restaurant.
At the Spot I know a woman waitressing her way through a degree in computer security, a bright Japansese college graduate making a career in the restaurant business, and the manager of the Spot – not a light-weight job. Submissiveness has nothing to do with their attractiveness.
Why, then, are they so very appealing?
To begin with, look at the American women in the Spot. Perhaps a third of them are stylishly dressed. The rest of the gringas run from undistinguished to dumpster-casual: baggy jeans, oversize shirts -- often male shirts -- with the tails out. They seem to affect a sort of homeless chic, actually to want to look bad, and do it with more than a touch of androgyny. A high proportion are at least somewhat overweight. (So are the men, but that's another subject.) The Asians, without exception, are sleek, well-groomed, and dressed with an understated sexiness that never pushes trashy.
Further, the Asians are what were once called "ladies," a thought repellant to feminists but very so refreshing to men. Listen to the American women at neighboring tables, and you will frequently hear phrases like, "He's a fucking piece of shit." In what appears to be a determined attempt to be men, they have adopted the mode of discourse of a male locker room and made it their normal language. The Asians, classier, better students of men, do not have foul mouths. They presumably know about body parts and bathroom functions, but do not believe that a woman raises her stature by referring to them constantly in mixed company.
Men at the Spot, I have noticed, instantly understand that cloacal commentqry is not wanted, and don't engage in it: In the presence of the civilized, men adopt the standards of civilization. Men also tend to think of women as women think of themselves. The Asians, without displaying vanity, clearly think well of themselves. And ought to.
All in all, they give the impression that they do not want to be one of the guys. They want to be one of the girls. Here we come to the core of their appeal. Let me elaborate.
The default position of American women is what men refer to as "the chip," a veiled truculence, mixed with a not-very-veiled hostility toward men and a shaky sense of sexual identity. The result is a touchiness reminiscent of hungover ferrets. There is a bandsaw edge to them, a watching for any slight so that they can show that they aren't going to take it. They are poised to lash out in aggressive defense of their manhood.
As best as I can tell, they don't like being women. Here is the entire problem in five words.
The Asians at the Spot show every indication that they do like being women. They do not seem to have anything to prove. Being happy with what they are allows them to be comfortable with what they are not – men. They are not competing to be what they can't be with people who can't be anything else. They don't have to establish their masculinity because they don't want it. They do not assume, as American women tend to, that femaleness is a diseased condition to be treated by male clothes, gutter language, and bad temper.
I've spent many dozens of hours chatting with the gals at the Spot, and never seen a sign of the chip. For a man, the experience is wonderful beyond description – smart, pretty, classy women, who are women, and are not the enemy. As long as American women carry the chip, the Asian gals will eat them alive in the dating market.
Note that the espousal of hostile obnoxiousness as a guiding philosophy appears to be an almost uniquely American horror. It certainly isn't requisite to independence oe self-respect. I recently met a quite attractive blonde who, among other things, was smart, a long-haul motorcyclist, a student of the martial arts out of sheer athletic enjoyment of it, and an excellent marksman. She was also heterosexual, feminine, delightful company, and had no trace of "the chip." I was astonished. How was this possible, I wondered?
Meena Chopra: Poetess, Artist, Oriental Goddess Par Excellence
I started a small project, which should have been simple enough, but I entered territory which I thought I had long abandoned: that of directly confronting liberal Canada. And I quickly realized how far worse things had become.
There are two universities nearby: Sheridan College and The University of Toronto's Mississauga campus. The schools were accommodating enough, telling me to fill in forms, and giving me the rates for renting out rooms for the event.
Then I went to the cultural centers, including the Art Gallery of Mississauga, which provide meeting rooms for lease. I thought having the lecture in the middle of paintings and sculptures would accentuate the concept of beauty.
I also visited parks, gardens and nature conservations, which also earn some of their keep through leasing out their halls. Beauty, art and nature seemed a fitting combination.
There is also a large branch of Mississauga's public library, and it was the Canadiana Room, a small research center in the library which caught my attention. I had submitted the Crosby book to be included in the library's collections, and I thought that having them lecture in the library would be fitting.
The library's website presents the Canadiana Room thus:
The Canadiana Reading Room, located on the 3rd floor of Mississauga Central Library, offers in-depth research resources for the study of Mississauga history, as well as extensive material on early Ontario history and selected Canadian history.
Besides its unique collections, the room has chairs, tables and book cases of pleasant light brown wood. The room is almost always empty, unlike the rest of the library which is full of patrons of mostly students preparing for their classes.
Marian Kutarna, who as far as I can tell is "Manager: Arts and History Department" of the library, although there appears to be someone of higher authority than her, was apparently the one to interact with when booking this room. And she is important not because she finds empty spaces in the booking manual, but because she decides who gets in and who doesn't.
She is cleverly stupid, as all fascistic gate-keepers are, especially if they are trying to be the "good guys." I realized quikcly, for instance, that she was trying to avoid an "email trial."
I sent her at least three emails at the beginning, and she never answered any of them. I then kept returning to the Canadiana room, to ask her various assistants (and volunteers - libraries love to use their hapless patrons as "volunteers") what I should expect, and also to do some independent research. I got mixed-messages from her assistants: "She is in a meeting" and hopeful ones: "We're taking this project on," and still nothing, until I figured out the hours she worked, and went at those times.
She was effusive, friendly and fake. I caught on, and asked if she would email me the reasons why she wouldn't have the event in the room, especially since, through some research in the library's database, I found that the Canadiana Room had sponsored and organized other author talks. And these authors are primarily non-white and non-Western.
So that was probably my answer. And that was probably why Kutarna was trying to keep her email track as bare as possible, to avoid just the kinds of questions I was asking her. But, her stupidity is apparent, since lack of a response is just as incriminating as giving a response, and maybe more so.
But I think that her silence was actually her inability to respond to me. "How can a brown-skinned person (me) praise the West so openly and follow its exmaples so directly? Who is this creature! She is even worse than those racist whites, since how can she be racist towards her own race!!" Hence her debilitating (I think) inaction.
I finally got a few emails from her. In the first, she said that the Canadiana Room is not "a bookable public space." It is a bookable space, though, with the agenda of its staff. I said as much, and left her with "I will take the matter further."
I sent an email to the library's grievance committee saying I would like to report a complaint, but left it at that. Kutarna seems to have been updated with all my communications with other departments regarding room bookings. And she made me sound like some kind of furtive criminal, where in the first of her emails she wrote, "I know that you have reached out to City and Library staff, including myself, to identify a possible venue for your event." So she will know about my report. But I don't have time to pursue my complaint. The library will continue to decline and wither as it accommodates itself to special interest ethnic groups. And I will avoid going there. I go there very rarely, anyway, and there are a myriad of other ways to do research, and to borrow books, in this modern, technological age.
Kutarna is of course reacting to my "Western Civilization" program which doesn't fit in with this now depressingly prevalent "inclusive" ideology that dominates all cultural discussions in Canada, and the West. And what this really means is restricting and reducing anything related to whites and the West to give priority to non-whites. And Kutarna has grasped on to this multicultural ideology full on.
As with all the fascist, white females of our era, Kutarna is a pathetic creature. She is many pounds over-weight, which affects everything about her, from the lop-sided fit of her dresses to her unattractive haircut. She will blame this on the West and whites, since they are the ones who produced this horrible world which makes people like her suffer (and gain weight) by putting so much importance on appearance!
So, she turns to those ethnics, those brown-skinned people, who are so poetic, so artistic, so vibrant, so beautiful, so real. They become her mentors, allies and examples, being so kind and sensitive, and so ready to give. Of course, this is only her illusion, since their priority is to their own, and try as she might, she can never be part of them.
And I found in my online investigation of her, this gem of a video, where she sings her praises to the ethnics of Canada, and one in particular, in just five minutes.
In the video below, Kutarna is bestowing her reverence to the goddess-poetess Meena Chopra who is a Canada-based (Canadian national) Indian, who writes poetry. Chopra was honored in 2010 in an event in the Mississauga Central Library (not in the Canadiana Room, which would have been too small for that event) titled "A Multilingual Poetry Celebration and Book Launch" as she read from her book amidst Indian dignitaries, as well as Kutarna who gave a speech (excerpted below).
An excerpt from the above video of Kutarna's speech:
I have to say something. Meena taught me something...We were on the phone last Fall talking about doing this workshop, celebration. And I said "Meena, read me a poem, read me a poem" [hand gestures, which look like Indian hand gestures]. "She said: 'But they're in Hindi!' "Read me a poem" [Kutarna's voice increases in pitch - (and desperation?)]. She read me a poem, and this is what I learned. The sound of a language is poetry. The human heart is the same heart in all of us.
For Kutarna, we don't need to know what the exotic, foreign poet is saying. It is sufficient, nay, holy, to simply hear the sounds he makes. We don't need to understand this sacred other since we can feel his specialness, just by the way he utters his words.
And Chopra is the Indian, Third World Goddess that has evoked Kutarna's awe and wonder.
And Chopra knows this. She and her world are systematically undermining and curtailing the white West's civilization. She says so, clearly, in this presentation:
World is transitioning into a global village where English language is taking the front seat but not in a traditional British, American or any other way. [I suspect the grammatical deficiency might be because these are the notes she was reading at the lecture, but submitting that for publication is lax and lazy.
She then continues to talk of the "visual" importance of modern-day communications, neglecting the small fact that she is reciting her poetry in words, and specifically her Hindi words, to make a linguistic point.
But, rather than talk about this usurpation of the English language by non-Anglo worlds, and discussing their variations on the English language, including the addition of many non-English words, she deviates from this by writing:
The biggest influence on new English is of the technological culture and the dynamism of the young who are the creative compelling users of technology.
(I should add here that Chopra's written text is probably the notes she was reading from at the lecture. And for a literary person, one would expect her final version of her transcript that she sends for publication not to include so many errors).
She says that now, since the English language has become this universal world language, and where the Third World has appropriated it to suit its cultural needs, a new generation is using it in a very different, visual way.
I don't think Chopra knows what she's talking about. She doesn't have a well thought-out thesis, and seems to support at times the linguistic idea and at others the visual one.
At another installation of this post, I will write (as I have written previously, but less forcefully) about the intellectual laxness of these non-Western sophisticates.
But they have come to squat, invasion style, in a world which they incessantly criticize, but which is a world replete with sophistications (such as first-class libraries where they can shelve their books so others can easily find them and read them) for which they are willing to immigrate thousands of miles.
Kutarna with Chopra, holding Chopra's book of poems Ignited Lines
I find Chopra uncomfortable with the effusive admiration from Kutarna, who stands grinning obliviously
Chopra is of course a seasoned ethnicist, who has used Candada's infrastructure to its maximum. She is "Friend of the Library" at its most opportunistic.
Below is Chopra reading a poem with those special sounds.
And Chopra also promotes herself as a visual artist. I suppose this is where she empathizes with the world of the "young" where she continues with the presentation I've quoted above:
The idiom and syntax are changing fast.
Manifestation of the subtle thought imaging is taking over directly from the mental sound vibrations in a language where we have started expressing in symbols like smilyes, pictograms and info-graphics etc.
I remember seeing a collection of Chopra's paintings and drawings at the Living Arts Centre here in Mississauga. The center is trying to promote the various arts, and has a full-scale concert hall, a gallery, and various artists' workshops. It is quite a formidable building. I saw Chopra's work hanging somewhere in the gallery, and looking online, I realized it was at the LIVE Restaurant, which is mostly used for after-concert meals and refreshments.
The center, including the restaurant, is partially funded by government grants, and is losing money, and is accepting all kinds of bizarre events to cover its costs. One recent one was a body builders gathering, where strange, inflated creatures were wandering around the hallway. Another is to hold various ethnic festivals, and their program includes a recent presentation by a Chinese circus and an Indian event to celebrate one of their gods. Chopra's program fits that bill.
I couldn't find much online on her paintings at the center, so I went back to LIVE Restaurant, and indeed, there were Chopra's works.
Her show is titled:
"SHE: A Restless Streak" Art Show by Meena Chopra CELEBRATING THE SPIRIT OF WOMANHOOD
And it is:
At "Live Cuisine" at Living Arts Centre Mississauga from March 9, 2015 until May 25, 2015. 4141 Living Arts Drive, Mississauga, Ontario Mississauga, Ontario L5B
9thMarch to 25th May 10:30am to 5:30pm everyday
Below is a drawing hanging at the LIVE restaurant, but which I also found online. The photograph of her paintings hanging in the restaurant is what I took, as well as the view of the LIVE restaurant's entrance.
Drawing: Meena Chopra Pastel on paper 11'x8" From Chopra's series: She: A Restless Streak
Poem Excerpt from Chopra's poem Iconoclast (full poem below) The real in her longs to be revealed through layers seeking identifications undraped in a figureless formless existence.
Iconoclast Is she a vase or a statue on a pedestal ?
She is no icon!
Her feet strong firm on ground. The earth supports her. The real in her longs to be revealed through layers seeking identifications undraped in a figureless formless existence.
In vain, she searches - an iconoclast, beyond the turbidity of love.
Will she find one in you ?
Is this the forceful Hindu Goddess, the statue on a pedestal, that Kutarna is looking for? Will she find this figureless, formless, elusive creature?
Chopra may present herself as a modern, progressive oriental with Western ideas. But, as we look deeper into her thoughts, she remains much more Indian than Western. And she is not forthright with Kutarna, whom she will surely abandon when her authentic "identity" trumps pleasantries, leaving Kutarna with nothing but those incomprehensible sounds.
Art and Gastronomie
Chopra's works hanging above wine glasses and folded napkins: the epitome of Western sophistication, but with the Eastern content
Hanging here are oil paintings "Hope" and "Afloat" and selling for $285.
An Indian Woman at the LIVE Restaurant
At one time (about a year ago) the restaurant had changed its buffet style menu from an exclusively European menu and had added one or two Indian dishes. I asked recently about booking the restaurant, and found out that one of the chefs was Indian. When I looked at the buffet, the menu included only one Indian dish, and that was a simple chickpea dip. I asked to meet the chef to inquire about group rates, and was introduced to what looked like a cook. "You can order anything you want. Yes, we can do Indian dishes, butter chicken, anything."
My conclusion was that the attempt to turn this wonderful little place into an Indian/Ethnic restaurant didn't work. How many folk festivals are there going to be, and how many are "inclusive" enough to attract a wider audience than just Indians?
Chopra's work is hardly that of the goddess/artist of Kutarna's eulogy. She has managed to convince the ethnicist Indians who still require the admiration of white Canadians - and they got one at least via Kutarna, and those multi-culti whites who still run the organizations that she is worthy of their attention. And, following the multi-culti/ethnicist recipe, that is not hard to to. I don't doubt that Chopra has artistic ability, but she wouldn't have reached such a level of recognition hadn't she had all these underlying "qualities."
At the same time as Chopra's presence in downtown Mississauga, there is a photography exhibit in the Living Arts Centre by David Hook, a photographer based in Mississauga. The show is titled: Southern Ontario Mill Ruins. It looks like Chopra's attempted prediction of the decline of Western civilization is being admitted by whites. But it is more complex than that. When artists begin to realize that their civilization is in decline, and they begin to document what they have, as well as what is being lost, I think it is a good sign. It means that they may be more alert and aware of their surroundings, and will ask difficult questions such as "Why are we losing all this?" and "What is causing that?" And from there, some kind of action can originate. At least, that is what I hope.
The photocopied paper describing this exhibition has a quote by Hook:
"Here in Southern Ontario, we don't have many of the features that are common elements in landscape photography such as tall mountain ranges or ocean scenes. Yet Southern Ontario has a beauty all of its own. We many not have the historic ruins that you find in Europe, but we have our history to be captured here. My goal is to seek out and capture the hidden beauty in Southern Ontario that many may take for granted."
How different that is from Chopra's world (which I quoted above with its grammatical inaccuracies), which is:
...transitioning into a global village where English language is taking the front seat but not in a traditional British, American or any other way.
The narcissistic "identity" Chopra is seeking is obvious, as she describes it in the quote by her also in this photocopied program:
"My art is my search for the moments beyond the ones of self knowledge. It is the rhythmic fantasy; a restless streak which looks for its own fulfillment! A stillness that moves within! An intense search for my origin and ultimate identity."
And Chopra adds more of her inner "conflicts" here, where she is constantly trying to recreate that origin and identity transplanted from a foreign place into a Canada she never is able to call home and where she is never able to be at peace:
Serene surroundings of my birth place Nainital a hill resort in India have been a source of inspiration to me always. Strangely enough the beauty of Canada reminds me of my birth place a lot. Significantly the immenseness of the sky, the glory of the setting sun with its ever-changing colors and the unlimited wide expanse of the earth stills my nature within.
And more ominously, here is an excerpt of Chopra's poem Fire:
Dreams tumble from unknown heights into a dark pit devoured by the hunger for light. A vast ultimate flux of shadows adrift, a sea of hidden fire, rises with a smoky thread to reach the hearts of early desires"
Such are the aliens that are now populating our land, changing it more aggressively and determinedly than ever, and with all the Kutarna's on their side.
We have a battle, although I would say it is a war, ahead of us.
Below is a photograph by David Hook, which he titles Turnbull Mill Ruins.
David Hook Turnbull Mill Ruins, Cambridge, Ontario, 2014 More of Hook's photography here
Hook may be photographing ruins, but it is to capture history. His quest is not a relocation to a far-off, abandoned place, but one closer geographically. It is not the fantasy land that Chopra is recreating, but something more real and tangible. His ruins give us a sense of the past, to bring into the present and to create for the future.
Chopra vacillates between heights and dark pits, to find her "identity" with a "hunger for light." She is for ever in an elusive, intangible ephemera. It is not a narcissist's quest what she is in, but a rootlessness that must be common to so many like her, now populating the urban and even rural landscapes of our lands.
I continued to work for several weeks researching conference locations, contacting groups and institutions, and communicating with individuals to prepare the conference for the Hildebrand project leaders. I wrote asking them if they were interested in coming to Mississauga to present their book and their ideas.
Here is a couple of the emails I received from their office:
I have not heard an official word from either of the Crosbys yet about this opportunity, however, we have been in the midst of creating a master list for speaking opportunities just like this. Your name specifically was passed along and I hope to be able to confirm this opportunity with you soon. I contacted the leads for this project today updating them of the venues you are currently in contact with. I will communicate with you any updates that are given.
Thank you again for reaching out and being in contact with businesses and communities near you. I look forward to seeing how everything is able to come together. Meanwhile, please do continue to contact me if there are any more updates on your end.
And a little later on:
Thank you for the valiant efforts you have taken to organize a speaking event for the Crosbys. It has certainly been an inspiration for me and our staff. We have been deliberating away about possibilities and I have forwarded all of your plans and possibilities for the event. We are currently in dialogue with another Canadian friend and close friend of the Hildebrand Project who is assisting us in arranging everything. We will be in contact again with you very soon with more detail.
And the last one (in late May), was a short, optimistic one:
I...look forward to ...seeing how everything plays out. Many good things are stirring!
My hard work seems to be paying off.
Mississauga's Civic Centre, with Magnolia Trees in Spring [Photo By KPA]
