When people first mention Bear Grylls’s Man Vs. Wild tv program to me, the first word that popped into my mind was “Outward Bound” school. It was originally a UK (Wales) institution that English boys were sent to to learn self-sufficiency in the wild, teamwork, and survivor skills. Even though Man Vs. Wild has been recently found out to be only partially “real” I remain fascinated by the idea and romance of a guy going out in the wilderness, left to his own devices, innovation, knowledge, and most importantly, will to pull through.

I tried to put my finger on why I loved the show so much, how it made me feel vaguely homesick, and then I realized where it all came from.

Stateside, I’ve always been befuddled by the mainstream media portrayal, henceforth, mainstream perception of Asian men: they were voiceless, effete, and obsequious men who quietly accepted their image as underendowed dry cleaners who excelled in math, and bullied their women with chauvinism until they ran into the protective arms of the liberator G.I.

Strange, I thought. I don’t know of any Asian men like that.

So I tried to recall the Asian men in my life before I landed in the US. My mom’s dad left the mainland because he found the culture of footbinding grotesque, and believed women should have equal freedom as men. He went to Penang (Georgetown) and balanced his time between his business of importing/exporting raw gold and that of a philanthropist. I didn’t realize why everyone was so nice to me at the school I attended until I found out years later that he financed the building of the school.

My father, a wild country bumpkin who rode motorcycles all around, outrunning the police in their Triumphs with his Nortons, was the person who first mentioned the Outward Bound schools to me. Though he later became a teacher, he escaped into the dense rainforest for weeks during the Japanese occupation, refusing to suffer the invading country or fight for a racist government. After weeks he returned, but the government denied him schooling, and he was subsequently taught by Irish Catholic monks.

Of all the fathers in my mom’s extended family, my dad was the only one who took their kids out hunting in the tropical rainforest, wading through bogs, and emerging with bodies covered with bloodsucking leeches. It’s amusing to see some of these well-to-do kids grow up to be men who turn their noses up at a life of luxury, chosing instead to go off into the wild to fish and rough it out. I bet their wives are thanking my dad many times over for the influence.

As a result of Man Vs. Wild, something has been occupying the interiors of my imagination. Here it is:

I think having a good family history provides one with the tools to survive the artificial reality of media portrayal.

You can look at what they want you to be and you can say: “That’s not who I am.”

A Lambertson Truex Sandy Tote

On the flip side, consumers of counterfeit culture operate on the notion that people in polite society- which brand labels act as a simulacra to bridge the middle class across their unpassable chasm- are far too gracious to doublecheck each other’s Louis Vuitton bags for signs of fakeness. What they didn’t count on was that people in polite society are sometimes so cheap that they themselves research and buy knockoffs. If indeed it takes one to know one, then counterfeit people have been served the royal shaft.

There’s only one problem with counterfeit culture: Inspiration is dying every passing day,intellectual property means nothing, and whatever people are saying about Asians these days, there’s one thing they are not saying: They are people with original ideas.

When you add into the mix the perception of transgender culture – what with it’s lip-syncing (voice stealing), girl imitation, fake boobs, fake hair, d332.com copycats, slavish mimicking and assimilation, the final nail on the coffin has got to be fake brands and fake labels. We should all push for all round authenticity, but if that is not possible, a little authenticity is still better than none.

The reason I self-destructed our three-record contract was because I refused to ghost write music and lyrics for what record label owner coined “hot looking white chicks.” Intellectual property is a sore spot with me. I recently went on an odyssey to determine the authenticity of a Longchamps handbag I purchased online. I refuse to support anyone or any institution that cashes in on the ideas of others. There was a happy ending to the story when both seller and I joyfully resounded our belief in unison: If You Can’t Afford It, You Can’t Afford It. I don’t consider myself a label whore, but if there’s a company or design label out there who is daring enough to break from the pack and invest in a unique vision, you can’t put a price tag on their worth.

You can however, chose not to support the people who rip off their ideas.