Ocean Vương talks to Björk for Bomb magazine about his new novel:

I was really frustrated by people telling me I had to create drastic change at the end of my fiction, à la Aristotle. That payoff felt closer to commerce: the way you buy a washing machine and it promises to change your life. The boy gets the girl. They find the killer in the end. Rags to riches. When I looked at my life, my family, the people in my community, I realized nobody lives like that. My aunt has worked the same job and driven the same car and lived in the same house for twenty years … That’s not a bad life. That’s a decent life. People aren’t failures because they’re “stuck.” Most of American life is a kind of stuckness, and so much of our culture wants us to make all of that into a winsome, sanguine hope. Optimism for optimism’s sake. And yet the majority of history is filled with people who did not start revolutions, who didn’t break out of the abusive relationship, who got stuck fighting in wars that they didn’t believe in. Most of history consists of people who are trapped by what they are but who still try their best. I wanted to write about kindness without hope, where people know that kindness will make no significant change in their lives and yet they commit to it anyway. I knew that no character would get a better job or have a grand epiphany at the end of this book. They end exactly where they started, but they are transformed, internally, because of each other.

I told my editors that this is my slump book. (laughter) I don’t know if it’s going to do well. It doesn’t do any of the things that American fiction usually depends on to sell units. There’s no thing to grab at the end. When you buy a bag of potato chips, you at least know you’ll get sixteen ounces of potato chips, whereas I can’t promise that anybody will get anything from this book.

I am almost done with the book.

Yesterday, I bid farewell to an acquaintance for the last time. I hadn’t seen him for a few years and he was hardly recognizable in his coffin. Cancer had eaten him up. Just a push of a button and he was nothing but ashes. He was 69 years old and barely had a chance to enjoy his retirement.

These days, everything seems to be uncertain. I can’t get a grip of my anxiety. Everything I care about seems to be drifting away. As I am aging, the people around me are dying from cancer, stroke, or diabete. Some form of terminal illnesses would catch up to me.

I sound morbid, but I accepted death. I can’t cheat death. When it is time for me to go, just put me in a carton box and press the button. Let me return to ashes. No need for a fancy coffin. No need for any services. No need for visitation. No need to shed a tear for me. Just let me go.

For now, I need to make peace with myself. I need to stop worrying and start living. I don’t have control of anything else, but my own mind. People who hate me, let them hate me. Nothing I can do about it. When my oldest sister decided to sever ties with me, I granted her wish. Even when we had to meet at family gatherings, I just looked the other way. Fuck her. I don’t have any obligations left for her.

I do have obligations with my kids. They are still under my supervision. Once they grow enough feathers and wings, I won’t stop them from flying away. Though I am always here for them until I am no longer on this earth.

My oldest son chastised me for making him write 500 words a day during the summer. I believe the more you write, the better you will become. I am not asking him to become a professional writer. I just want him to practice writing as a communication tool. Furthermore, I wanted to get him into a routine and take responsibility.

Besides, he does nothing in the summer. He doesn’t want to do anything around the house. He doesn’t want to get a part-time job. He doesn’t want to volunteer. He doesn’t want to play any sports. Asking to him to help his younger brothers with reading, he gets all grumpy. Asking him to tutor them Spanish, he groaned. What does he want to do all day long? Playing video games with his friends and created some 3D graphics. Basically, he just wants to spend most of his waking hours on screen.

Writing 500 words for him takes less than an hour. He still has about 15 hours a day to play video games and doing 3D modeling and yet he doesn’t have enough. Maybe I should just limit his screen hours, but I wanted him to take the responsibility for himself. I wouldn’t ask him to write if he has something else to do other than being a screen addict.

It breaks my heart to see my kids don’t do anything else other than spending time gluing to their screens. They are wasting their time away. Maybe I don’t know how to be a father, but I don’t want to raise spoiled kids who don’t have any aspirations. At 16, he shows no sign of responsibility and independence.

He has everything provided to him. When he asked for a laptop, we gave him a laptop. When he asked for a better laptop, we gave him a better laptop. When he asked for a phone, we gave him a phone. When he asked for a better phone, we gave him a better phone. It was my fault for placing my trust in him. I thought he would do better when he has what he needs. I thought he would control himself, but he didn’t.

At times, I am so fed up that I should just let him do whatever he wants. Deep down in my heart, I care too damn much to see him ruing his life. I get nothing but hate and disrespect for loving and caring. I don’t think I am being to hard on him. In fact, I think I am fairly flexible. He can do whatever he wants as long as he does something, but spending all day on screens is not acceptable. Then again, maybe I should let him make his own decisions. I should let him live his own life and don’t even say a word. I don’t expect anything from him. I just want him to be able to stand on his own feet. If he doesn’t need my guidance, I am fine with it. If he messes up, that’s on him.

Dear Khandice & Henry,

Congratulations on your big day! From reading your story on your wedding website, we can tell that you two are madly in love with each other. The wedding is just the beginning. The journey ahead will fill with joy, but also challenges—take it from our 17 years of experience. What had helped us weathered the storm was two bars from a Vietnamese timeless ballad written by the great late Lê Uyên Phương:

Rồi mai đây đi trên đường đời
Đừng buông tay âm thầm tìm về cô đơn.

Later, on the journey through life,
Don’t let go of my hand to seek your quiet solitude.

When things get rough, just hold on and don’t let go of your hands.

Love,

Auntie HaiDung & Uncle Donny

In her latest Netflix special, Sarah Silverman turned grief into comedy and she delivered it brilliantly sentence by sentence. Her stories were deeply personal and you can feel in authenticity in her telling. I didn’t know her parents at all, but their humors had stuck with me even after the special was over. Dying is not a joke, joking on dying takes tremendous risk. Fortunately Silverman pulls it of. I was watching it for about 10 minutes during my lunch breaks. I felt interrupted. I am going to have to dedicate the entire hour rewatching it.

Writing an entire book on an album is no easy feat, and yet Emily Mackay pulls it off with Björk’s Homogenic. Mackay delves into the technical details of making the album and Björk’s thought process and her vision. The materials were also drawn from Mackay’s interviews with Björk and the musicians who lent a hand in making this album. As a music appreciator, particularly Björk music, I enjoyed reading this book immensely. I’ll definitely look for more of the 33 ⅓ for more music writing.

Letter from the dean:

Dear Donny:

I am pleased to inform you that a 2.35% salary increase has been approved for you. Your new salary will be effective in the June 10^th – June 24^th pay period. You will also be receiving a 1.5% bonus in your June 16^th check.

This letter is a salary notification only; the remaining terms and conditions under which you are employed continue.

Thank you for your valuable service to the Antonin Scalia Law School. The available funds for raises cannot fully reward the great work of our outstanding Faculty and Staff.

At the time when government jobs are being chopped off and university funds are being frozen, I didn’t expect to get a raise and a bonus. It’s a surprise and I definitely appreciate it.

I discovered Björk’s music in 2007, when Volta dropped. I was struck by the vitality of her voice, the clarity of her message, and the ferocity of the production in “Declare Independence.” I enjoyed the eccentric qualities in her avant-garde direction, but I didn’t fully comprehend her artistic vision. She was already way ahead of her time.

In recent weeks, I decided to revisit her studio catalog starting with her 1993 Début and ending with her 2022 Fossora. Björk had meticulously crafted each album to be experienced as a whole. Each album took me on a journey filled with wild imagination, lush orchestration, and pure emotion.

As I immersed myself into her recordings, I wished someone had written a book on Björk’s music and life based on her studio albums. Until then, I would like to put together a website based on reviews of her albums. I read as many essays as I could find and selected the ones that I liked the best.

I made this website for my own reading pleasure, but I also hoped that these essays would open up to anyone who has not discovered the genius of Björk. I wanted the look and feel of the website to be modern; therefore, I set the text in NaN Jaune—a contemporary sans-serif type family, designed by Jérémy Landes. The quirkiness quality in NaN Jaune is a perfect match for Björk’s style. Even though the design is playful, the focus is still on readability.

Enjoy reading!

As Director of Design and Web Services at Antonin Scalia Law School, I led the site redesign and the migration to the new content management system from start to launch and beyond. Read more about my contribution in the school redesign and migration project.

Björk’s 2022 release, Fossora, opens with a big banger, “Atopos,” with flowing clarinets, pounding bass, and hammering beats. While the rhythm connects to our feet, Björk’s voice connects to our soul: “Hope is a muscle / That allows us to connect.” The title track is another club-banger with raging electric beats and a bit of Indian flavor mixed in. On the flip side, “Mycelia” takes us back to the root with a hypnotic vocal ensemble that wordlessly conveys the beauty of nature. Even though Björk takes her music as far as she can, Fossora returns human relationships: love, loss, and connection.