Chinese food sucks in the South. There, I said it.

We have crap take out restaurants in downtown Charleston, with exception of King Street’s Spring Rolls. Usually, whenever I order General Tso’s, I feel like I’m eating deep fried chicken cartilage  overdressed with sticky sauce. According to Jennifer 8. Lee’s Ted Talk, General Tso’s chicken, as a dish, is actually unrecognizable to most native Chinese people. They just don’t make it in China. Yet, American’s love it.  Why? Because it’s deep fried and overdressed with sticky sauce.

Whenever I want General Tso’s chicken, I know where to go. It’s a restaurant that takes reservations, and could quite possibly be a contender for the most quintessential lunch spot in Charleston.

The winner of my General Tso’s Chicken Challenge is Cru Cafe. With a menu that features items like chimichangas, truffled mussels, and waffle sandwiches paired with candied bacon, lunch at Cru Cafe is never boring. John Zucker, owner and head chef, makes his General Tso’s chicken wrap with Caesar dressing. Weird idea, but it’s executed perfectly.

I ordered the chicken wrap with Asian slaw. Inside the wrap, romaine lettuce is flavored with Caesar dressing  and grated Parmesan.

For some reason, I’ve always wanted to be famous. I guess our culture breeds icons whose images become synonymous with the word success. I guess in order to make it as writer full time, I’ve come to terms with the fact I’ll have to become famous, or at least a person people will pay good money to do work with. As I grow older, I realize becoming famous in the world of the arts is the only way to make a living in the world of art. Truth be told, even artists who posses a celebrity, sometimes don’t.

I had a conversation with a good friend Liz Vaughan over a pitcher of beer at D’Allesandro’s one night. The topic was selling your soul to make a career out of what you love doing. Ms. Vaughan questioned if it was possible to spend the time necessary to create the projects you want  – ones that will influence society and bear your ideas in a way daring enough to actually shape it  – when money is an issue. I told her to not get so down. There are ways to bring creative talent toward commercial ventures in a way that’s sterile enough as to avoid the tousling of feathers so you can generate a reliable income.

Okay, I’m being vindictive toward US culture again. If I could just accept things for the way they are, I wouldn’t need to spend all my time creating artistic projects to rock the masses. Whatever. Making ends meet is not what this blog is about.

This blog is about success, what it means and why people who are esteemed as powerful seem so desirable to be like. Why do I feel I have to be so damn destined to be one?  696 out of every 700 comments I get on this site, which I’ve created so people can view my work and hear my voice, are actually spam advertising penis enlargement pills. Those other four comments come at random, at least once a month, but they really do mean something.  I still can’t really gauge if actual people are actually reading this thing.

When I was 16 and eternally mad at my parents, I believed a simple life was ultimately what I was seeking. One of my favorite quotes, from a wise sage used to be, “There is only one success, to live life in your own way.” Yet, when I try to give all have towards mastering certain crafts, when I have visions I can’t escape that urge to be realized, there develops a drive inside myself to be recognized, to achieve, eh hem, fame for what I want to spend my life doing.

And yet, I simultaneously want to escape to an island to live with a small tribe in my very own yurt. I feel like Jesus on top of that very high mountain where the devil  promised him all the glory of the kingdoms in the world. Not, that I want my own kingdom, nor do I feel like Jesus.

So what is the verdict? I guess, like the outcome of most of our actions, the answer to all this boils down to intention. I am not striving to model my like after Derek Zoolander. I do not aspire to have secret handshakes with celebrities like Christian Slater and Billy Zane. In fact, getting any attention at all, almost always involves having to handle criticism. Yet, whether it ego, pride, or drive, I still  desire to be recognized. Maybe however, recognized from a far, my work viewed by hundreds while I reside on small land mass surrounded by ocean in a house made of straw and clay. That idea would suffice for now, at least while I’m in my twenties.

I think the most important quality to remember throughout this whole process, a quality that perhaps has been missing in this post thus far, is humility. What is the point of gaining influence and backing if you lose the ability to relate to others. And moreover, if dreams of stardom never materialize, how without humility, will a modest life feel meaningful?

So people are tweeting about the revolution because they can’t get their ass away from a computer long enough to really do something. I’m one to talk. I fucking live on this thing.

According to a blog post by City Paper managing editor Chris Haire, the days of true political anarchical activism  are over. It’s digital protest from here.

#Occupy Charleston – a grassroots organization condemning corporate involvement in government  and capitalism-fueled income gap issues  -  had 600 likes on Facebook.  Yet, only a small group of 80 people attended the third meeting. I mean that’s up from the seven who came to the first. I admit  I went to ballet instead. We can’t all be perfect, now can we?

This official protest, modeled after the demonstration in NYC in which peaceful protesters were attacked by police, will take place on  October 21. The final organizational meeting, location TBA, meets on October 13.

What does this mean about social media? Has it a become a crutch for people to speak their political outrage in the laziest and most non-confrontational way? Do people believe uprising through short tweets on the internet superhighway datasphere is going to make a difference? Will it? Or is it an action that is only real for a few seconds and then lost. Does the government listen to our tweets? It takes people getting arrested,raised voices and handmade signs to get journalists attention – the media which has been designed to keep check on the government.

Even I chose to go to ballet instead of attend the organizational meeting, but I do plan to go to the assembly – no excuses.

There was a fire on Amherst Street two days ago and I happened to be walking  down King Street barefoot in between jobs. Smoke was rising up the horizon. Smog filled the air. I felt like I had been transported to a land post apocolypse, and it just felt right.

I’ve been fantasizing about a collapse since age 12.

So a while back I met a woman named Jasper Faolan. She has the word “compassion” tatooed in bold typewriter font on her forearm. She lives in a Dodge Caravan.



The minivan situation is voluntary, because Jasper is a do-er. I’ve read to page 300 of her self-published book, A Raw Hummingbird, and I have a fallen in love with Ms. Faolan’s drive and honesty. I interviewed her about her latest project, Journal to Save Your Life. J2SYL is an online mental health resource for at-risk female youth set to launch in 2012. The site will utilize Narrative Psychotherapy to empower those who’ve experienced the gamut of issues facing all young women – coping with sexual abuse, eating disorders, suicidal idealization, and so on  – with writing prompts designed ,to re-frame the way they view their personal history.





Faolan is many things. She’s an animal rights activist, a bisexual and a feminist. She likes to giggle a lot, and despite what the whole hippy connotation of that van situation might make you think, is a believer in scientific methodology and an incredibly high achiever. All data collected from participants in J2SYL will be analyzed for effecaciousness by Michelle Joy, editor of the Yale Medical Humanities Journal, along with other mental health professionals.
In A Raw Hummingbird, Jasper openly shares the stories of her childhood delinquency. She has committed her life to helping at-risk youth because she used to be one. We get along very much. Writing has always been my therapy (see: morbid poetry entries). Now, I’m looking for the perfect media outlet to promote what she has done.



I’m ready, almost. Just a few more technical hiccups to overcome before I start sharing the intimate details with you.