A cafe owner whispered in my ear, "Don't let him bother you. He's always talking nonsense."
A man with a squarish face, like mine, asked, "Are you Chinese?"
"No, no, Vietnamese!"
"Where are you from?"
"Lang Son," a province bordering China, "but I was born here in Dak Lak." When Vietnamese speak of home, they often mean where their ancestors are from.
The gas station owner sought me out, "You lived in America, I know. I haven't been there, but I've traveled a bit in Asia. We like to drink more than they do. In Indonesia and Malaysia, they hardly drink."
"They're Muslims!"
"But even in Thailand, they'd only drink a couple of beers, and that's enough, and they don't get loud, like we do. In Cambodia, they drink like us, and in China too."
"I've never been to China."
"You know, their cities there are very impressive, but their rural areas are hardly better than ours. If they're ten, we're nine!"
We had to shout to be heard over the karaoke singing. The drunk man was dancing alone. Those who think that group behaviors have no roots in genetics should watch, just for a minute, a typical Vietnamese dancing. He's thinking too much and can't let himself go. Instead of freeing his legs or pelvis, he's wrestling with his brain. Under incredible stress, the Oriental face often becomes impassive, but it's not because he has no emotions, as often interpreted by whites, but because he has lots of self-control, at times too much. An overabundance of spontaneity, though, can get you jailed.
Though my neighbors have come from many places, they're bonding here, for it's only natural, and pleasant to them, to do so. As one explains, "To be neighborly is the Vietnamese way. You come to me, I come to you, we're here for each other." It's also the traditional way, everywhere, though many have come to consider this arrangement confining or insufferable.
A table for one, please, and a bedroom, bathroom, karaoke parlor, bowling alley and football stadium for one, too. Shunning all that's nearest to me, I just want to be constantly plugged to my social programming. From cradle to grave, I need to be socially engineered nonstop, like all of my Republican, Democratic or Antifa friends.
Speaking of cultural collapse, Dmitry Orlov points out that if random folks, thrown together in public, don't converse spontaneously but become aloof and fearful, and if children fear strangers instead of seeing them as surrogate family, and if people can't maintain a soft, gracious or respectful tone when conversing, but are loud, shrill, rude, foul mouthed and "fly into a rage at the slightest provocation," then that culture is pretty much fucked. Sounds familiar?
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