OK! I admit it. I have been peeping on college chics get butt naked. Blame it on the New Yorkers for exposing CollegeHumor.com. Beside the sexual photos, I find a few videos below to be hilarious:

The two little Asian twins kissing. Aren’t they adorable?

This little boy is just amazing.

Asian Fat Joe is up on the video.

Ma, you straight frontin’, let’s get the date jumpin’ / See your booty panties, ma shake somethin’ / Shake something!

If you don’t know, now you know. Don’t say that I didn’t tell you so.

I am currently enjoying Patrick Gallagher’s Some English Words For Some Vietnamese Popular Songs booklet. Gallagher is an American who has a fine taste in Vietnamese music. Upon reading my reviews of Hong Nhung’s Doan Khuc Thu Ha Noi and Bai Hat Ru Cho Anh, Gallagher contacted me and would like to share some Vietnamese songs he has translated. What a coincident! I was wondering who is Patrick Gallagher since the English versions of “Bai Hat Ru Cho Anh” and “Van Hat Loi Tinh Yeu,” performed by Hong Nhung, were credited under his name. So when I received his email, I replied immediately with “Please! Send me your work.”

In order to translate these songs, one must know Vietnamese, but Gallagher translates with his passion. “I don’t actually know Vietnamese,” he says “but my dictionary does, if given all the decorations of the vowels.” Then he goes on explain his method of translation, which I find intriguing. He looks up every word in Nguyen Van Khoi’s Viet-Anh dictionary and tries to understand the meaning of the song. Once he understands the lyrics, he rewrites the song in English that would best fit the musical compositions. Isn’t that a challenging task? Of course, some of contexts are lost in translation, but Gallagher manages to stay as close to the content as possible, and his translation of Trinh Cong Son’s “Hat Tren Nhung Xac Nguoi,” peformed by Khanh Ly in 1969, is a good example.

Now I Sing The Dead

Noon, I walk the hills
Now I sing the dead
On the roads, I have seen, I have seen
Each one has one, this one screams

Noon, I walk the hills
Now I sing the dead
I have seen, I have seen, garden here:
Dead tired ma holds her dead girl

This ma claps above her child
This ma claps for peace, for peace
Here some clap for life, for life
Here some clap for end of life

Noon, by berry groves
Now I sing the dead
By a road, I have seen, I have seen
Old man hugs his stone cold son

Noon, by berry groves
Now I sing the dead
I have seen, I have seen, ditches, shelters
Filled with bodies, his and hers

This ma claps, lets have more war
This ma clap, no more, no more
Here some clap for hate, for blame
Here some clap to shake off shame

Gallagher’s love for Vietnamese music is inspiring, and making the translations available would extend Vietnamese music beyond the Vietnamese community. Like Gallagher says, “for me, the idea that English words for VN songs might someday make them an export product, maybe not as big as rice or coffee, but better than plaster elephants.” I hope that that will come soon. Thanks Gallagher for sharing your work.

If Hong Nhung’s albums rank by age, Mot Ngay Moi is the youngest one. I like to call it a Hoi Xuan (undergo the change of life) album since the tunes she selected are simple, soft, and easy to listen. In addition, the mid-tempo grooves, produced by Quoc Trung, suggest fun, young, and carefree; therefore, she sings like a virgin who appreciates the pureness of life. She does not reach deep or climb high, but just flow effortlessly.

The album opens with Huy Tuan’s “Mot Ngay Moi,” and like the tile suggested, a new day has begun. The sun has filled the city and wakened her up to sing for a beautiful green day. The hip-hop inspired beat makes me want to get up and get my morning workout on. Then “Xa Lam Roi,” which written by Le Quang and Hong Nhung, continues with her fresh vocals breathing into the hip-hop vibes. Not sure why Bao Chan’s “Roi Dau Yeu Ve” starts off with the beatbox that has nothing to do with the calmed and relaxed arrangement. Quoc Trung’s invigorating mix and Hong Nhung’s uncomplicated delivery give Huy Tuan’s “Mua (Dung Tanh Nhe)” an aroma of world music.

The only slow track on the album is Bao Chan’s “Loi Toi Hat,” and Hong Nhung gives a flawless performance; however, I am questioning the origin of the song. The tune sounds familiar, especially in the beginning when the piano starts to play, but I cannot put the title to song. Did Bao Chan lift the melody again?

Hong Nhung always surprises her listeners by switching her style constantly. Even though she does it skillfully, fans whose love her sentimental performances will be disappointed with Mot Ngay Moi. In contrast, the youthfulness of the album will welcome more young fans to her work.

The most celebrated holiday in Viet Nam is a couple weeks away (Feb. 9). Back in Viet Nam, decorating our house with flowers was one of my favorite activities before Tet. I always wished that I would get my li xi (red envelopes) before New Year so that I could buy more flowers. Of course, the saddest part was to take down the flowers after Tet.

Ever since I came to America, my Vietnamese New Year celebrations aren’t the same anymore. No more fresh bright golden yellow flowers (Hoa Mai). Now that I live in an apartment, I have no motivation to decorate the place since no one will be visiting it anyway. On my virtual home, however, I do have a few visitors; therefore, I have adorned Hoa Mai on the top left to give this space a spirit of Tet.

New Year celebration would not be complete without Nhac Xuan (New Year Music). So here are a few Xuan songs for your enjoyment:
“Canh Thiep Dau Xuan” (Nhu Quynh) – Thanks Tommy!
“Nhung Kiep Hoa Xuan” (Ngoc Lan)
“Lang Nghe Mua Xuan Ve” (Hong Nhung & Bang Kieu)
“Doan Ca Xuan” (Quang Linh & Thuy Trang)
“Xuan Da Ve” (Doan Trang)

And a few poems for those of us who celebrate Tet outside of our homeland:
“Tet Nho Ve Ha Noi” by Le Hai Anh

“tet” by Song Vinh
tet di roi tet lai ve
tet qua tet lai van minh voi ta
van em qua lai khieu xa
van ta go may lam tho tang nguoi

By now everyone would probably heard enough compliments on the visual elements of Zhang Yimou’s House of Flying Daggers; therefore, I don’t need to slap any more paints on his canvas. Similar to his previous film, Hero, the images are extraordinary. Unfortunately, the story is ordinary compare to the complexity of Hero. In fact, the love triangle is typical for any Chinese film.

Zhang Ziyi, plays Mei, is the engine that drives the film. The moment she is introduced on screen, the attention is on her. Her rare beauty takes the pain and the exhaustion away from Jin (Takeshi Kaneshiro) and Leo (Andy Lau) who try to kill each other during the final duel. And yes! She is worth fighting for even when the weather changes from the gorgeous spring sunshine to the nasty winter blizzards. Zhang’s performance is superior even though she bears too much skin for a traditional Chinese film.

As for Jin (not Ruff Riders’ Jin) and Leo characters, the two actors should have switched their roles. Andy Lau could have given a greater performance as Leo than Takeshi Kaneshiro. Lau is an experienced actor who can express his emotions to the fullest, and Jin would fit him perfectly. Kaneshiro is undoubtedly a handsome guy and he is good, but does not have the charisma that Lau has.

Despite the cheesy storyline, House of Flying Daggers is still entertaining. Both the creative “echo game” and the innovative “bamboo battle” will provide viewers an aesthetic experience. Furthermore, any film directed by Zhang Yimou is guaranteed to be beautiful.

Similar to many Hong Kong TV series, Nguoi Da Ba Yeu Duoi starts off smoothly for the first few chapters, then begins to drag the whole way through. Until the director, Minh Duc Liem, realizes the film has been running way too long, he decided to wrap up quickly on the last chapter.

Not only the production is sloppy, the writing is way off the track. The main character, Ngoc played by Tran Kim Ngan, is so unreal. She is so strong in the beginning, but becomes weaker and weaker as the film proceeds. Her performance is not persuasive at all.

Mrs. Loi (Minh Duc), who takes Ngoc in to be her daughter, is horrible. I want to slap some fairness judgments out of her. Instead of controlling her own kids, she allows them to abuse Ngoc then expresses her apology for what her kids did. When she dies, I feel glad rather than sorry, and she is supposed to be a nice character.

In contrast, Tieu Phung plays a wonderful job as Loc, a wicked daughter, wife, and sister. She only cares about herself. The ways she abuses Ngoc makes me want to smack her; however, she is likable because of her attractive appearance. Speaking of beautiful, Vo Ngoc Ha and Kim Khanh add some pretty faces to the film but their supporting roles aren’t standing out.

If Tieu Phung were not in the series, I would not finish watching the whole thing. She has dominated the film even though she is only a supporting actress. The timing, the writing, and most of the performers are not strong enough to hold up the series.

Is being pretty and poor a sin? Yes! According to Ho Ngoc Xum’s Con Nha Ngheo, a TV series based on Van Ho Bien Chanh novel of the same title. Luu (Bao Chau) is a beautiful but poor lady who was raped and abandoned by Hai Nghia (Thanh Hoang), son of a rich and powerful family. Sounds familiar? Even though the storyline is nothing new, Ho Ngoc Xum has done a great job of keeping the series short and to the point; therefore, the pace does not drag on forever like a soap opera.

“Sau con mua troi lai sang (after a heavy rain, the sun shines again).” After the first dramatic opening with the rape and the injustice, the film moves viewers toward a brighter side of life. The lunch scene on the rice field makes me want to leave this cold place and go back to live a simple life. The husband works on the rice field. The wife brings him a simple lunch. They gather together with the son eating ca kho (braised fish in caramel sauce) and cucumbers with rice. It’s just a perfect life. Simple but filled with happiness.

The performances are simple and natural. Bao Chau is beautiful and Minh Dat is handsome. Together, they are an ideal couple and the chemistry between them is perfect. Le Vu Cau, Minh Phuong and Thanh Hoang have done fantastic jobs as supporting roles. Hong Van is a great comedy actress, but not so convincing in a serious role. I must give her credit for taking on a challenge that is not her usual style.

The only negative aspect of Gai Nha Ngheo, as well as other Vietnamese TV series, is the dubbing. Why don’t they use the actors’ real voice? Hong Van sounds so unnatural with someone else’s voice, especially when I am so used to her high-pitched vocals. Other than that, the film is entertaining. A great time killer for our grandmas.

Jin opens the door and now Chan is coming in. Smacky drops some ill ryhmes on his latest work Part of the Nation, especially on the sentimental “I Feel Sorry For Your Mother.” Go cop the album and your purchase will go toward Red Cross to help the Tsunami victims. He is doing something positive so go support the brother.

Speaking of donation, iLoveNgocLan.com gave a small amount to Red Cross this morning. Many thanks to the fans who have contributed.

Sasha digs foxymoron, so do I. It’s catchy as hell. I am tempting to get my own coxymoron.org to rock with the fox.

The singings are slow and the beats are mellow. Da Khuc Nguyen Dinh Phung is quiet, calm, and relax, but not boring. Thanks to producer Duy Cuong for his magical fingers. The musical arrangements along with the ambient vocals of Tuan Ngoc and Thai Hien set Nguyen Dinh Phung’s compositions in a nocturnal atmosphere.

Nguyen Dinh Phung is a relaxed songwriter; therefore, who can perform his music better than the easygoing Tuan Ngoc? On “Dem Hoai Vong,” Tuan Ngoc sounds as laid-back as he could be, and the saxophone added the fragrance of jazz to the work. His pleasurable and tangible deliveries on “Toc May” and “Em Co Nho” make me want to reach for more, as if they were a glass of French Martini.

Thai Hien performances are no less addictive. Her serenading vocals on “Dem Sau” take listeners deep into the night while her aspirate flows fly the audiences freely with “Hoang Hac (Yellow Flamigo).” Of course, none of these aesthetic experiences are possible without the amazing sounds of Duy Cuong.

Da Khuc Nguyen Dinh Phung is a rare and timeless work. It’s a contemporary nocturne album that takes more then one listen to appreciate its exquisite contents. Once the images are accessible, the compositions speak loud and clear even though the lyrics and melodies are restful.