Iris

自二十岁以来, 我时而会收到并不属于自己的物品.
梳子
香水
相片
卡片
瑜伽垫
每一样整整齐齐干干净净的摆放在抽屉的角落. 静静的束之高阁. 它们是那么的特别, 和我的世界如此格格不入. 它们都高雅的一尘不染, 简直放在哪里都突兀, 放在哪里都觉得被玷污.

我从没想过要去用它们. 因为它们不属于我. 左看看右看看却怎么也找不到合适的角度下手. 拿在手里, 感受到得却是另一个世界的温度和触感. 怎么攥着都不踏实. 怎么用着都别扭.

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以前中学里有个家伙
胖胖的 穿着破布棉袄
每天没事儿就喜欢站在别人班门口盯着进出的女生.
眼睛一个直的 跟没见过漂亮姑娘似的.
大家都笑话他 觉得他是个异类 脑筋有问题那种.
跟笑话街上走路一颠一颠 嘴上抽抽傻笑的人一样的笑话.

只有我默默的很敬重他.
因为他做的是我一直想做
却没有勇气做的事.
因为我知道我的尊荣
没有这个资格.
我只敢偷偷的 假装再看别的的样子的时候 瞄上一眼
生怕被别人看出来
也揪出来嘲笑辱骂

I’d like to see you all.
I’d like to have you all.

我是一个行动的矮子.
我只敢写下来.
假装别人看不到.
我只敢用文字
恣意的妄为.
还要声东击西
假装在说别的事
好被人揪住以后
事后开脱.

I wish you were all still.
I wish you were all smile.

my most hated words in 2015

“Thank you Sooo much”

When has it become trendy to say this, genuinely and sincerely, when someone’e being helped on some trivial matter?

“Can you pass me some napkins””Yup””Thank you so much”
“What time is it””12:15””Thank you so much”
“Hey can you keep an eye on my stuff for a sec””Sure””Thank you so much”

It’s everyday, everywhere and in nearly every conversation. The richness of the whole phrase make me nausea. It reminds me of the voice in the “next big thing” ads by samsung: “our phone allows us to do amaaaazing things” “the next big thing is here”. Those seemingly friendly and pure tones cannot hide the fact that they’ve been carefully calibrated and crafted, one syllabus a time, to magically convey their messages to the innocent audience. I almost think they’ve consulted a dozen psychologists so that the tones, the messages and the visual can fully grab the weakness of human nature. So are those banners and posters with one or two all-captalized catchphrases. All those Steve Jobs’ type of presentation and visualization are unnaturally unhealthy and deceiving. Nothing can be summarized in one phrase. Everything is complicated. A bold, catching slogan sells good, but it doesn’t actually make the product better, especially when everybody is doing it.

What about a simple and snappy “Thanks” or a formal and less emotionally engaged “Thank you” for such subtlety? I guess you’d never say those two words. What if I saved your life from an angry hippo at the zoo? How are you going to thank me for that? What are you going to say so that I feel I deserve this? I guess you’d run out of your repertoire of expressing gratitude. sometimes it’s not even something grateful. It’s more of a pet phrase, something slipped out of the mouth subconciously to make people feel you care about them, to end a conversation, or just to be cute. Well, perhaps no reason for such behavior.

If over-modesty is a sickness of Asians, over-politeness is becoming a pandemic among modern citizens in America. And both make me nausea, for a long time. Adding a “so much” tag at the end of a sentence doesn’t bond people closer. The over-polite conversation balls tossed back and forth are sarcastically sad, because beneath the web knitted by them, in stark contrast, is the absurd nature of desolated individuality and the lack of understanding and trust. They are just there, all the time, cold, isolated and hard. Anything we try to build in the layer above it not only does not help, but even worse, makes the facts down below opaque and inaccessible.

Say “Thanks” when it should be said. Then feel the warmth and coldness of human connection when it’s presented, truly and transparently.

小说家的操守

今天看到一段让自己脸红的话。是周国平援引昆德拉对小说职责的一段评论:

“一个小说家必须具备存在的眼光,看到比现实更多的东西。然而许多小说家都没有此种眼光,他们或者囿于局部的现实,或者习惯于对现实作某种本质主义的抽象”。。。
“这种情况,借用海德格尔的概念,就是“存在的被遗忘””。如此写出来的小说,不过是小说化的情欲,忏悔,自传,披露隐私罢了。“

这段话应该批评了世界上百分之九十九点九的小说家,包括所有经典文学,所有故事童话,以及所谓的<哲学小说>———-那不过是在用小说的形式上哲学课罢了。

But ya’ know what, I don’t care. 我就是那种倾全部注意力于当下瞬间细节的描绘者—-语言的摄影师,说的高尚点。我就是把一切情欲,忏悔,道德和无奈小说化的那种人——主要是情欲。我就是那种描绘记忆中的现实,不揭示任何存在的花间派。为此我乐此不疲。

另一位评论家Rebecca Solnit最近在一篇virginia woolf 的文章里写道:”writers have to be by nature optimists…it’s the job of writers and explorers to see more, to travel light when it comes to preconception, to go into the dark with their eyes open.”

Which I totally disagree. 我写任何我想写的东西。笔者不应对读者对社会负有任何责任感和导向型。我们的职责只有写任何我们感兴趣,我们觉得值得探讨的话题。文字本身没有开导读者,给读者以信心的责任。而我写作,仅仅是体验一种不一样的可能性罢了,而且凑巧大部分时候是及其消极晦暗的。我不认为这就是没有价值的。相反,文字应该是把世界原原本本的摊平了展现在人们面前的介质。

历史上的今天:
2011年7月8日 写一首给朋友的分手歌

second night in hong kong

我的头还有点疼.鼻尖还有残留的机舱里刺鼻的冰冷气息.

食指揉了揉发胀的太阳穴.定了定神,努力把眼睛对着前面. 毫无预兆的,是什么呢?

<啪嗒> 是了, 今天遇见了个百分之百的女孩.在这百分之百的夏日里.

毫无征兆的,好像熬了一夜的清晨,惺忪双眼,套着睡裤吹着口哨走在已经有声音的街上,拐角路过早点店,毫无预兆的,街角一抬头看到了日出的阳光.庄严.绚丽.不由得屏住呼吸,心跳的紧张起来,让人只想驻足原地,对着它行注目礼,直到仪式结束.仿佛一道电流,一束光,这一时刻生命改变了轨迹. Continue reading “second night in hong kong”

PAMPs, tyrosine kinases and plant immunity

这篇文章单纯的让我想起了08年我做的第一份研究。

同样的Arabidopsis thaliana, 同样的Pseudomonas syringae, 同样的host-pathogen interaction, 同样的PAMPs。我的工作那么简单,和这篇文章一样简单,直接。

可科研再也没有那么纯粹过;人也是。

那时候每天像白开水一样的过,每天刷试管,洗盘子;看着种子一点点从土里长出绿叶,在温室听广播里泡沫一样的流行音乐边收集种子。下了工时而去水泥球场打球,有时去吃立着的铁盘里盛的披萨。那时候我不认识很多人。那时候我认识很多人。

那时候我喜欢被太阳晒的发痒的皮肤,喜欢楼道水泉里喷出的冰凉到大脑空白的水,喜欢硬的吱嘎吱嘎的单人床,喜欢图书馆高吊的洁白的灯。

那时候我爱音乐;
那时候我爱孤独;
那时候我爱女孩;
那时候我爱忧伤;

是什么改变了我们,我们又改变了什么。

那时的我拒绝改变,拒绝妥协;
那时的我拒绝世俗,拒绝道德;
那时的我拒绝软弱,拒绝将就;
那时的我无情,拒绝了自我。

是什么改变了我们,我们又改变了什么。

那时的我不曾后悔。

being an NBA fan

I’m happy to see the two teams that I’d been attached with over the years are finally growing into some prospect since I started watching NBA in 2000.

The Toronto Raptors and the Washinton Wizards.

Going to see a basketball game is such fun. I still remember the times I went to a Raptors’ game on a cozy cool summer night with friends and drinks. I enjoyed sitting upper rows and looking down at the shiny hardwood floor, the giant maple leaf flag and the glowing Raptors’ logo. And of course sometimes when I got lucky, I found myself having a slice of free pizza from pizza-pizza the next day because the Raptor’s won and scored over 100 pts.

I still remember once, after the game, at the entrance of Air Canada Center where the crowd was exiting, I looked up in the sky and saw an eclipse. When the beautiful pale moon was being shadowed, right over the lake, the stadium, the street lights and the people, I couldn’t help but thinking of J D Salinger and I depicted myself as the catcher in this land. I logged the scene and the emotion I had at the time, but from time to time, I can’t resist thinking back of that night over and over again and asked myself:

Where was I ? In the middle of the crowd, under the moon being shadowed, or I was nowhere, no one, no water, no moon ? Should I be there, or should I be somewhere else ? Was all these just my mere imagination ? The voices, the water, the echoes and the moonlight ——- all just illusions and hallucinations, and I was just by myself, totally detached from the scene, just one isolated piece of existence. I was nowhere.

The bottom line is, you don’t need a championship team to become a fan, to enjoy the games and a good time. Some good old days.

理发记

今天我去理发. 街上雪很大,天很冷. 我很疲惫. 我想要生活停下脚步的渴望和盼雪停下一样强烈.

今天只想好好放松一下. 去掉沉重的头发的负担, 沉重的大衣的负担. 沉重的我的负担.

我信步走进一家厅堂透亮,看起来很舒服的沙龙. 我在这片大陆还没理过20块以上的发. 但今天我只想大大方方的有沙发可以坐下看看杂志,有衣架可以挂沾了雪的大衣,有人问我要咖啡,茶或是水.
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