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We’re a wacky species, sometimes.

But in the name of commerce and the capitalistic way, the human race invents products to solve problems. And sometimes, the application just doesn’t fit where it should be.

LYSOL

Yes. You know that product. The product advertised and used by the public for home cleaning and sanitizing (and to make wood furnishing shiny and bright) was used in a very “sensitive area”. Can you believe it was marketed as women’s cleansing product to prevent and cure vaginal infections? Wow.

BUBBLE WRAP

Yep. It’s not only for moving and then rewarding yourself with some cacophonic bubble burstings. The original use of bubble wrap was for sound absorption in houses and rooms.  It was even marketed to the chic as Actual wall paper for their homes.

Now we are addicted to popping. Forget about the walls, we’ve got iPhone App games!

PLAY-DOH

You know, when you have walls, you need to clean them. And the first thing we all think of to clean them with would be?  Yes. Play-Doh, that chemically pungent clay-like greasy mess of a toy, for the tots in all of us, used to be marketed as a cleaner.

Imagine in our modern times, a company doing this and then marketing to children, without change in chemical properties?

Well, glad Play-Doh was invented in the 1930’s, eh?

CORK SCREW

Ah. What would we do with out cork screws to open our bottle of $14 wines with. Then in our attempt quickly get off target and break off the cork, half still being stuck in the bottle. Oh, cork screw, how we love thee.

But our modern day enemy mini, had a more noble and grand responsibility:  Bullet Remover.

Not from bodies, but the bullets that became stuck in the actual gun. I guess the guns back then were pretty bad.

Well, cheers! But we like opening without a cork screw, better.

WD-40

The original name for WD-40 was “Water Dispersement, 40th attempt”. Has a nice twang to it, don’t it? But seriously, the scientists who invented this product was on a mission to prevent metals from rusting. Because rusting is not good on Missiles. Yep, they were working on preventing the premature destruction of missiles built to protect this land. They succeeded for sure.

But it had must more used in the home, as we know. Now, we all use it to unscrew that thing-of-a-bob, and unhinge that chimmy-changa, from that wacka-mole that just broke the entrence key.

2,000 + uses and counting.

Source:  Cracked.Com

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Monroe Tropics (words by Jason Kim)

The retribution diabolically handled with unforgettable execution demands respect to the inept ultimate.

Proficient and detailed, Parsons walked to the rights of the curb. Distinct in his work and patience, oozed the ooze each watcher forgave voluntarily.

The watch indicated the seemingly triangulating monsoon particular to that summer’s afternoon. Dauntingly dragging his epsilon, onto the crest of his white beaten button top.

He stroke that match, kissing that fragrant lock trapped within the classic but unmistakable coffin which evenly scorched the pleasure into the cortex of his heart and brain.

The bodies of wretched recluse, whom lied within his breast pocket, until summoned quietly and effortlessly, called for death and silent short conversation. Hessians dedicated to the fuming endeavor. Three died within those 15 minutes.


It was time.

Parsons was regretful, in his view and from without.

He’d done a bad thing.

He’d done a very bad thing.

The memories of the tyrannical deeds, done to height. It had to be done. He didn’t know. Second guess? No.

She was a beauty. Glimpse of her sheen deflected across the blue Chevy, classic and gorgeous. Catlike eyes, stilting long legs. Oh what a cool drink of tequila. Oh a shot would be good right now.

His destiny wasn’t complete. He could not stop. Couldn’t be distracted. He was doomed. He knew it.

Dragging weights on shoulders he’s never felt, clogged up and down the knees forward. They were heavy, he reckoned. Indeed they were.

The heat was damning. It pierced the heavy and humid air, with a zap and zip. Scorching the linen, parching his skin, drowning the cells in understood monotony.

His mind was too cluttered, step by step. Cacophony of silence and images flooded in front of his visuals.

“I’m sorry for what I’d done, Rachel“, he murmured, under his breath, as he slowly wiped the speckle of sweat from his eye brows.

“I’m sorry for what I am. I’m sorry.”

He closed his eyes, for a micro second. He walked again.

It wasn’t always like this. Trembling with fear now, Parsons was a man’s man. A man who could predict the outcome, and get it done.

It was 1995, on a hot day like it was today. It was his glory years, he thought to himself.

You see, he was the best. The best damn gangster on this side of the tracks. And he knew it.

Best of all, everyone else knew it.

“I made it happen…I was king…”, he murmured to himself again. His eyes now were glazed with pity, putrified and stagnant.


Destiny in its holy might, never could foresee, the density in challenges, collecting on to one’s feet. A pool of hope, redemption, science, regret, retribution, harm, forgiveness, triumph, calculation, bargaining, and silence- collections of a hateful encyclopedic emblem of knowledge and anti-knowledge.

All is to avail. Useless and deleting.

Collar no longer stiff, dripping with thickness of his sweat. Clear and focused, his fedora hat stained with guilt. Guilt longing for its pass, to carry further the stench of undoing. Destruction set from the first time, and only time.

“What have I done…”


Parsons was here now.

The fall colors bloom and for just a few moments, we can take it all in.

It’s the timing of it all, that captivate and accentuate the colors in front and out front.

Even with the high noon sun, it isn’t what it used to be. Soft and delicate, the molecules slowly dowse the leaves into the golden and the crimson.

Crisp air meet and greet the sun’s delight.

Even the banal. Or even the regular every day, becomes silver and special.

The fall colors blossem. Hope we can stop, synchronize, and reset. Just for a second.

All images copyright mediaform jasonkim photograph

 

To celebrate (well in addition to fill one of our weekend days) the end of summer, and the return of autumn, both of us visited an apple orchard.

Yep, you heard right.

Personally, I’d never thought of visiting an apple orchard, never once in my life. Although I’d had some preconceived thoughts of what an apple orchard represented (a sun drenched plain of fields, filled with beautiful fruits of one of our most enjoyed foods), the idea of physically going and ‘enjoying’ a trek through an orchard, was far from me.

But Maiko had the idea (activity) for us to participate.

And I was pleasantly surprised. It was definitely a very enjoyable few hours.

We visited Maskers Apple Orchard in Warwick, NY. It’s about 2 hours from Jersey City (by the by, all the twisting mountain roads to the orchard, just makes it a longer trip than it should be). We packed some coffee and donuts for the road trip (oh and some chips, as well).

The road through upstate roads is one of many things beautiful about NY state‘s environment. The old school (1700’s style) buildings and the small roads leading the way, always adds that pinch of character.

All in all, the folks working at the farm was good, the orchard was good, the trip was good, and the sac of apples (quality of apples) was fabulous (yum delicious).

PS  And don’t worry, the “trunk check” is a standard. Don’t get all your feathers all ruffled over it. It’s all good.  Also, fully expect many kids on a field trip. Be patient  =D

All images copyright mediaform jasonkim photograph

I carry my camera almost every time I leave my apartment. My favorite camera depends on my mood (makes a big difference) and what kind of photographs I believe I want to take in that outing (this day I had my DSLR with me with my trusty 50mm).

It’s a philosophy (a philosophy many photogs dwell) and a habit which has been drilled in. It’s like when you don’t have your wrist watch on (for those of you who always are used to wearing them). Just feels like something’s missing.

Anyway, yesterday (on my way to Newark) it was one of those days I was very glad to have my camera with me. And it isn’t because there was an abundant amount of subjects I particularly wanted to take images of, but that I would have been very bored.

The photos you see below are ones taken from a very, very, very long traffic halt. It wasn’t overly unpleasant, but I did thank my lucky stars I went to the bathroom prior. It was that long.

See, the images don’t have to have spectacular weight (at least in personal/fun mode). As you can see, these are just items you’d see behind any traffic: barriers, rails, trucks, trailers, tires, bumpers, inside of my car, sky, etc.

But it’s a rolling story. It’s not a very compelling story, but it is a story- snapped & communicated within a 5 image frame. Nothing complicated but a total personal moment in time, explained in ‘paragraphs’, within the 5. No more, no less (because it’s my story). Not clear always mind you. However, we photogs always try our best. =D

Oh, by the last image of the sky, is when I lifted my head up to say to myself, “Finally!”

Then I was on my way to Newark. The Brick City!

Fun, isn’t it? Yep. I agree.

AAll images copyright mediaform jasonkim photograph

As human beings, I think we love thing from “higher up”. I mean views of view points that give us a glimpse of how birds look at our world every day. I think we humans are very jealous =D

We are, after all, terrestrial beings. Animals that have occupied the dry lands (as temporary Inn keepers) for a time, expanding, spreading, cultivating, devastating, and at the same time innovating.

But just like the Wright brothers (and countless other humans), who just wanted to be flying like birds, we terrestrial beings just aren’t satisfied with the view which we have.

That’s why we have persons and groups that love traveling to the tops of the highest mountains, tops of the highest buildings, flying in dare devil planes, and flying out (trying hard) towards the vast cosmos.

Of course, we all do not carry such “first person” ambitions for adventure, but we all do sometimes profess the odd, “ohhs”, and “ahhs”, when we see photographs and videos showing us the seldom bird’s eye view.

Most of us (and this is my inkling) love the Discovery Channel, Science Channel, National Geographic Channel, and so forth. This is because, in the safety of our sofas, we can enjoy and get a “glimpse” of how birds always see the world. Or we love those big zoom perspectives of the Himalayas, or Mount Kilimanjaro from our ant’s view, because the magnitude and scale of those colossal leviathans in wide angle is “unimaginable”.

Yep. We as species appreciate nature’s giants. Structures that make us go, whoa!

As for me, I’d love to be able to fly like a bird. That would be just fab!

All images copyright mediaform jasonkim photograph

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