A few things. First of all, though Brad is correct in saying that Japanese anime like Pokemon is enjoyed by children but holds little value to most adults, his statement shows his lack of knowledge with the world of comics and animation. In Japan and the far east, unlike in North America, comics and cartoons exist not just for children's consumption, but also for adults. This is something that the comics and animation industry has never successfully tapped in the west. Comic books in Japan are as commonplace as pulp paperbacks are here on the newstands, and they target all sectors of the population through all different genres, such as romance, science fiction, etc. However, as I have limited desire to get into a nitty gritty argument over the finer points of anime, this is all I will say.

My real beef is with the statement that Brad made for the record "For the record, I don't think there exists a large degree of racial prejudice against asian males. I don't know why so many people feel the need to be in the "in" crowd when it comes to discrimination." Admittedly, I do not for a moment begin to imagine that the discrimation faced by Asians can even begin to rival that faced by the native Indians, or the blacks, or the Jews (or any other minority group that has attempted to infiltrate the supposed land of the free), but just because thousands of Chinese did not die in a holocaust, or have to suffer the disrespect of Jim Crow laws, does not make our plight any less serious and any less true.

I have many serious, analytical arguments regarding this preceeding paragraph, but my time in front of the computer grows short at present, so I will leave you for now with just one story.

I was doing volunteer work for the CNIB (the Canadian National Institue for the Blind) as part of a school project a few months ago. On the first day of the project, our group of four met with our contact person in the organization, and we spent a solid hour and a half conversing on what our project would be. At the end of that time, she turned to each of us to take down our contact information. I was first in line, so she asked me what my name was. I replied, "David." She looked at me and then rolled her eyes. Then, she said, "Come on, seriously. What is your real name?"

What is my name? What was I supposed to answer? Ching Chong from Hong Kong?

This reminds me of a Muhummad Ali story. Shortly after he changed his name from Cassius Clay, he fought an oppoenent who refused to recognize him by his new name. Throughout the fight, a bitter and enraged Ali, while swarming and destroying his overmatched foe, cruely taunted his opponent.

"What's my name? What's my name?" he shouted repeatedly, while pounding his opponent to a bloody pulp.

What's my name? Indeed.