GammaGlobulin

Tropic of Cancer? Really? (Sorry, I was thinking of Last Tango in Paris, and the Butterfingers Brando, which was not noteworthy.) Still, I forget Tropic of Cancer. Those were the days.

Sorry, but the real thing is.... That, after we reach a certain age, then it becomes almost impossible to read fiction, such as a novel, with a straight face. There is no escapism after one reaches a ripe enough age. And, when this happens, then...maybe YouTube.

The truism is that, the older one becomes, after the magic age of 59, one loses the ability to appreciate written fiction, ie, novels, in most cases. If this has happened to you, too, then read Nemesis by Roth. At least, you can still read this with quite a bit of pleasure. Roth writes beautiful paragraphs. Roth should have received the Nobel for Literature, except that, maybe, due to his "background", he was found wanting. Was Saul Bellow a Jew? Not sure. The only thing I know is that Philip could write rings around Saul. The Nobel has always been a joke. Awards, such as these are a joke, both in science and in literature. You got a small group of dirty old white men telling the world what is pure. I am white. But, I am not dirty, hopefully. I try not to be.

And, then what happened....?

The sad thing is: There is a whole flock of great books that most decent schools put on their reading lists, maybe about 500 books that students should read by grade 12. However, it should be obvious that most of these books should be read very close to the time the student passes through puberty, while his or her juices are flowing at MAX, in order to achieve the greatest Umph out of the reading of these books. Passing through puberty is a time when our brain is at a point like no other time in our life. Most of the high-school books should be read between age 11 and 14. Otherwise, this crucial time of amazement in the reading is missed, forever. Maybe you might not know what I mean. Once you miss this time in your life, this narrow window...then...this unique opportunity can never be recouped... it is gone, forever. Try reading Fanny Hill at age 40, for example. Try reading Fanny Hill at age 11.5, for example. Not the same experience. Same with so many books. Read while you are young, or be doomed to ignorance, for life.

Very, very nice. VERY.

Tom Jones is and was amazing. Madame Bovary. Fanny Hill. 200 more.... ("Back in the Day", maybe 60 years ago, our main entertainment was reading books which were written before 1800. We, as young boys, loved to read things like "Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure". We used to lie in bed and read, all the livelong day. And, it was fun. And, it was very sexy, too.)

My Dear Friends, I could go on, and on, about my love-hate for YouTubers of Thailand, of all ilk. And, especially, the backpacker YouTubers, most of whom are absolutely beyond the pale, obviously. However, what I have found, and most truly this is ever more the case, particularly during this glorious two-year interruption of our previously uninterruptible tourist season, a period of time when some of us have breathed a sigh of relief from boorish backpacker baboons, is that….in fact…...Thailand YouTubers, the majority of them, are changing their ways enough to become, actually, quite likeable, amazingly so. Naturally, there still remain a few bad apples. However, it just seems to me that this virus has done wonders for the quality of what is being produced by the guys with Thailand-oriented YouTube channels, even though their English skills may not have improved much during this time. Learning English is not easy, and it takes more time than just one pandemic can offer in order to perfect decent writing skills. I am sure that you do not need me to call attention, here, to this fairly recent positive transformation among the Thailand YouTuber gang. Some of us have seen this same transformation on the Farang Pub, during recent months, a phenomenon otherwise unexpected before the advent of this new virus age. People here are becoming, quite unnaturally, both kinder and gentler. Such a blessing to us all. We also notice, during all of 2021 and in 2022, there are some rather kindly older guys YouTubing about Thailand, even those one might consider geriatric, or borderline forgetful, often sometimes perhaps not quite up to snuff, mostly due to age-related cognitive challenges, or downright mind decline, who are able to provide us with riveting content about nothingness, while talking about things they forgot about at the beginning of their Live Talk on YT. These older gentlemen YouTubers, occasionally from places like Pattaya, are interesting. Mostly, they speak about topics that most of us would consider taboo in polite company. These venerable and exhausted gray men are both engaging and thoughtful, and never confrontational nor edgy enough to be completely watchable. Strange, really, just how very engaging I find their work on YouTube. For example, there is one old Thailand YT geezer who spends two or more hours gassing about almost nothing, and, still, he has 800 viewers on his live YouTube channel from around the world, mostly from the UK. He and his followers spend over two hours, in just one session, debating nothing, other than when they discuss the perfect UK breakfast which always includes rashers. This is understandable, if one were to view the population pyramid of the UK, then what would one expect? As you can see from this above image, the largest cohort is the range from 50 to 54. Still, the UK is a rich country, so that everybody will be paid in their old age, in the end, and until the end. Unfortunately, some may never reach the end. Speaking of pyramids, what about the Cheops pyramid, which has lasted some time. (Age of Cheops: 4600 years) Every time I view this image, I cannot help but wonder what our atmospheric CO2 level will be 5000 years from today. And, what impact that might have on our world for our children’s children. In fact, the thought is so terrible that no one wants to contemplate it. Everything had been going along, swimmingly, during the reign of the Pharaohs, without a hitch, and then, all of a sudden, the atmospheric CO2 levels begin going through the roof. What a joke! The main point is that: 5000 years is a significantly long enough time for some real changes to take place, due to CO2 increase in the atmosphere, beginning in the year 1800. Surely, we will not stop at 300 PPM! CO2 molecules last in the atmosphere for a very long time, maybe 300 years, maybe more, maybe 500 years, or even more. Given the present situation, one might ask….is it even important that the human race exists beyond the year 2050? And...why? So solly! I didn't mean to veer off into the land of Egypt. My guess is that…. whatever I might think about almost any topic… the good guys on the Farang Pub have already thought about it, overly much. Why??? From anyone’s perspective, including mine….. The guys on the Farang Pub are the ones who possess most wisdom on TV. The Men and Women on the Farang Pub are the very ones on TV who are most likely to possess the real Truth. Farang Pub readers and posters are smarter, by nature. As Chomsky often said, “Everybody knows this.” Also…. E.O. Wilson is dead…..Amazing Scientist. Maybe E.O. Wilson is up there in the sky, right now, looking down on the destruction of the world that he predicted while he was alive? I do not know. Your guess is probably correct. So, was Timothy Leary actually dead? No. Only, outside, looking in. Same as E.O. Wilson, I do believe. Sorry for this stream of consciousness. Best regards to All….and…. 5000 years from now, our Earth will be back in equilibrium, with or without us. Thank you and regards, One More Thing: After several months, since this past summer time, I am beginning to miss the song of the DukGe. During the cold season, where do these lizards hide? Life is just too boring, at night, without them.

OK. But, I can't link Hong Lou Meng, here. I have the DVDs. I would need to upload them, and then provide you the link to the uploads. This can be done, if you are interested.

It sometimes feels good to be a throwback.

Why? Did he chicken out? There is really no excuse for ever leaving, once you are here.

Did somebody here mention language? (Language is innate, biological, and therefore learnable for us all, INCLUDING passa Thai.) This is what happens to you when you try to understand the origin and evolution of language in Humankind. You begin to sport strange hairdos. This is not a joke. Also, here is where the Great Noam Chomsky crossed the line, and became Nim Chimpsky: OK. Since Scopes, we all know that Chimps are far faster than we at playing banana checkers: Yes. Look it up, and you will agree. But, really, and I mean it.... I have always had a love affair with Chomsky, which has extended for decades. Just a matter of personal liking and loving, I guess. Maybe you do not understand my love for this man. Chomsky is about as old as humans can get without dying. If only Chomsky were a Great Basin Bristlecone Pine tree, rather than a chimp, then he could live for 5000 years, and then, ... I would say....Chomsky still should live longer. I am neither liberal nor conservative. I just love strange hair...... Also, that monkey stare. (Best to everybody here on the Farang Pub, be you liberal, conservative, neither, or nor.)

May I quote you? "oftentimes" Makes me think of the other two similar: oft-times and "often times" Personally, being the man I am, I prefer to utter oft-times, just for effect. As I mentioned in recent days, I believe you are a teacher, which is a devotion and calling for which to be exceedingly proud, even though teachers should still try to be humble, whenever possible, as has always been traditionally the case throughout history in China, but maybe not so much in Greece. AGAIN, I wish you.... Chok Dee! If you wish, I can tell you where you can download the complete original series, Hong Lou Meng, possibly for free, which involves a teacher in some parts of this amazing drama. CHOK DEE, my friend! (In my opinion, everybody on the Forum Pub are valued friends of mine. (Although, I can understand if the feeling is not always mutual.)) Chok Dee!!!!

Correct. Not different from many others. You are talking about the rejuvinating power of Thai culture. As you say, perhaps many of us would have been dead, without it. No other country has it. You are lucky to be among the chosen few..... 7.5 billion people on Earth, and only 75 million in Thailand. Count yourselves very fortunate, and never complain.

It takes real guts for a good woman, especially a reserved Thai woman, to ask a man to share a meal with her. Honestly, this is one of the more poignant paragraphs I have come across on TV, among many. I just hope that you treated her gently, and also tried to boost her ego a bit, in the process. For example, you might have referred to the 2nd law of thermodynamics. Due to Entropy, no two particles can remain together, for long. Maybe a maximum of 50 years. Sooner or later, everybody becomes a single particle, and each particle eventually decays into nothingness. Therefore, a missed dinner date means nothing in the grand scheme of Physics, in this universe. But, you never know, maybe this engineer enjoyed sharing a meal with you in another universe in our multiverse. At the moment, I am watching the Webb, day by day. The Webb is just about the most exciting thing that has happened to me in my life. I just hope that I can live long enough to see Webb reach its full potential. Compared to this, a missed meal with you, or anyone, is small potatoes. Within 6 months, we can begin to celebrate the success of the Webb. I will splurge on a cheese plate full of that expensive blue and white cheese that is not available here, called Stilton. I would be tempted to give up my dream of seeing the success of the Webb, almost, just for a kilo of Stilton, right now.

Yes, but has she read the entire published writings of Cheever? And, what do you think she might know about swimming and diving in pools not her own?

No. Long titles, apparently, are frowned upon. When composing your TV titles, might I suggest emulating composers of Haiku. Works for me,...anyway. Here is an example: old pond frog leaps in water's sound No more than seven words should be enough for any TV topic title, in most cases.

If one insists on disrespecting anyone, then it is far better to disrespect oneself, rather than the alternative. If one were to continually wrong others, by these barbs, then one might just wind up walled in a wine cellar, bricked up like Fortunato. Have you ever had a cask of Amontillado, in an evening? I believe that you are a teacher. If so, then it is better to teach than to do almost anything else. Chok Di

Yes, I agree. If you were less verbose... But that would be impossible. Still, thank you very much for your brief reply. I hope to hear more from you soon. Very soon. And, please stop worrying about planet Earth. Glob.

As you say, accurately, and so sorrowfully....The New Yorker has passed, may it rest in peace. You are completely correct. But, what about The Atlantic??? Has The Atlantic become just another Titanic? Great magazines are sinking all around us, and nobody cares. These days, one might think, there is really no point in reading anymore, since there is no more to read. Herman Wouk wrote his last novel, as far as I know, very close to age 101. That was a few years ago. Now, Wouk is dead. And, my interest in reading novels is definitely dead. Long live FACEBOOK! Note: Evan Osnos, who wrote and maybe still writes for The New Yorker, is a fairly gifted writer and thinker, particularly about China, yet he, and many more writers like him, are half the stature of a Cheever.

Would you mind if I mention one more thing concerning how I really feel when reading a beautiful poem composed 400 years ago? These days, when I read such beauty, utter beauty in fact, written 400 years ago, I feel such angst and sorrow. There seems no balm now sufficient to cool my worried brow, and no female form alluring enough to distract me from my worry. Of course, you realize that I am speaking of the impending melting of the Thwaites Glacier, and all the ice behind it, so soon to be added to our shores. Also, speaking of krill, have you seen one, just how beautiful they might be, enlarged by the lens of a professional photographer? I am worried, anytime I read books or poems written over 400 years ago, that 400 years in our future, it seems likely that nobody will be around to write anything. This is why I am unable to look at beautiful women, because, mostly, I am thinking of the tenuous future of Antarctic kill..... I wish I could just forget about the future, and concentrate more on near-term issues, mostly women. I am sure that I could have a woman, probably tomorrow, if only I could focus on women, rather than on the desperate future which seems to be almost upon us now. Krill are really beautiful, though....

Thank you for your reply. I notice that Thomas Overbury took his degree of Bachelor of Arts in 1598, just 106 years after Christopher Columbus discovered America. Yes!, you are right that Overbury's poem is beautiful, and long, maybe overly long for the Pub, but not too long for some of us here, I suppose. One thing, though, that I would like to mention, and this is that Factory Girls, quite a number of them, are most beautiful. Regarding the image you posted, it must be obvious, seems to show a beautiful factory girl sitting in a prestige car, with fine leather seats, maybe something like a Maserati, since no rear seats are to be seen. These kinds of girls are too beautiful for me. I would get antsy if I were to have tea and crumpets with one who looked even half as beautiful as she. Instead, I really do prefer factory girls, girls who can't read much, yet have great empathy and compassion for those they meet, and those they truly care about. Yes. I really DO love farm girls and factory girls. Maybe just a quirk of mine. Mick, I think, enjoyed the same quirk as I.

Keep your pretty girls, please: Better to be waiting for the right kind of girl.... Waiting for a girl who's got curlers in her hair Waiting for a girl she has no money anywhere We get buses everywhere Waiting for a factory girl Waiting for a girl and her knees are much too fat Waiting for a girl who wears scarves instead of hats Her zipper's broken down the back Waiting for a factory girl Waiting for a girl and she gets me into fights Waiting for a girl, we get drunk on Friday night She's a sight for sore eyes Waiting for a factory girl Waiting for a girl and she's got stains all down her dress Waiting for a girl and my feet are getting wet She ain't come out yet Waiting for a factory girl

Concerning skin-deep beauty: Each woman is a briefe of womankind, And doth in little even as much containe, As, in one day and night, all life we finde, Of either, more is but the same againe: God fram’d her so, that to her husband she, As Eve, should all the world of woman be. So fram’d he both, that neither power he gave Use of themselves, but by exchange to make: Whence in their face, the faire no pleasure have, But by reflex of what thence other take. Our lips in their own kisse no pleasure find: Toward their proper face, our eies are blinde. So God in Eve did perfect man, begun; Till then, in vaine much of himselfe he had: In Adam, God created only one, Eve, and the world to come, in Eve he made. We are two halfes: whiles each from other straies Both barren are; joind, both their like can raise At first, both sexes were in man combinde, Man a she-man did in his body breed; Adam was Eves, Eve mother of mankinde, Eve from live-flesh, man did from dust proceed. One, thus made two, mariage doth re-unite, And makes them both but one hermaphrodite. Man did but the well-being of this life From woman take; her being she from man; And therefore Eve created was a wife, And at the end of all her sex, began: Mariage their object is; their being then, And now perfection, they receive from men. Mariage; to all those joyes two parties be, And doubled are by being parted so, Wherein the very act of chastity, Whereby two soules into one body go. Which makes two, one; while here they living be, And after death in their posterity. God to each man a private woman gave, That in that center his desires might stint, That he a comfort like himselfe might have, And that on her his like he might imprint. Double is womans use, part of their end Doth in this age, part on the next depend. We fill but part of time, and cannot dye, Till we the world a fresh supply have lent. Children are bodies sole eternity; Nature is Gods, art is mans instrument. Now all mans art but only dead things makes, But herein man in things of life partakes. For wandring lust; I know ’tis infinite, It still begins, and addes not more to more: The guilt is everlasting, the delight, This instant doth not feele, of that before. The taste of it is only in the sense, The operation in the conscience. Woman is not lusts bounds, but woman-kinde; One is loves number: who from that doth fall, Hath lost his hold, and no new rest shall find; Vice hath no meane, but not to be at all. A wife is that enough; lust cannot find: For lust is till with want, or too much, pin’d. Bate lust the sin, my share is ev’n with his, For, not to lust, and to enjoy, is one: And more or lesse past, equall nothing is; I still have one, lust one at once, alone: And though the women often changed be, Yet he’s the same without variety. Mariage our lust (as ’twere with fuell fire) Doth, with a medicine of the same, allay, And not forbid, but rectifie desire. My selfe I cannot chuse, my wife I may: And in the choise of her, it much doth lye, To mend my selfe in my posterity. Or rather let me love, then be in love; So let me chuse, as wife and friend to find, Let me forget her sex, when I approve: Beasts likenesse lies in shape, but ours in mind: Our soules no sexes have, their love is cleane, No sex, both in the better part are men. But physicke for our lust their bodies be, But matter fit to shew our love upon: But onely shells for our posterity, Their soules were giv’n lest men should be alone: For, but the soules interpreters, words be, Without which, bodies are no company. That goodly frame we see of flesh and blood, Their fashion is, not weight; it is I say But their lay-part; but well digested food; Tis but ’twixt dust, and dust, lifes middle way: The worth of it is nothing that is seen, But only that holds a soule within. And all the carnall beauty of my wife, Is but skin-deep, but to two senses known; Short even of pictures, shorter liv’d then life, And yet the love survives, that’s built thereon: For our imagination is too high, For bodies when they meet, to satisfie. All shapes, all colours, are alike in night, Nor doth our touch distinguish foule or faire; But mans imagination, and his sight, And those, but the first weeke; by custome are Both made alike, which differed at first view, Nor can that difference absence much renew. Nor can that beauty, lying in the face, But meerely by imagination be Enjoy’d by us, in an inferiour place. Nor can that beauty by enjoying we Make ours become; so our desire growes tame, We changed are, but it remaines the same. Birth, lesse then beauty, shall my reason blinde, Her birth goes to my children, not to me: Rather had I that active gentry finde, Vertue, then passive from her ancestry; Rather in her alive one vertue see, Then all the rest dead in her pedigree. In the degrees, high rather, be she plac’t Of nature, then of art, and policy: Gentry is but a relique of time past: And love doth only but the present see; Things were first made, then words: she were the same With, or without, that title or that name. As for (the oddes of sexes) portion, Nor will I shun it, nor my aime it make; Birth, beauty, wealth, are nothing worth alone, All these I would for good additions take, Not for good parts, those two are ill combin’d Whom, any third thing from themselves hath join’d. Rather then these the object of my love, Let it be good; when these with vertue go, They (in themselves indifferent) vertues prove, For good (like fire) turnes all things to be so. Gods image in her soule, O let me place My love upon! not Adams in her face. Good, is a fairer attribute then white, ’Tis the minds beauty keeps the other sweete; That’s not still one, nor mortall with the light, Nor glasse, nor painting can it counterfeit; Nor doth it raise desires, which ever tend At once, to their perfeciton and their end. By good I would have holy understood, So God she cannot love, but also me, The law requires our words and deeds be good, Religion even the thoughts doth sanctifie: As she is more a maid that ravisht is, Then she which only doth but wish amisse. Lust onely by religion is withstood, Lusts object is alive, his strength within; Morality resists but in cold blood; Respect of credit feareth shame, not sin. But no place darke enough for such offence She findes, that’s watch’t, by her own conscience. Then may I trust her body with her mind, And, thereupon secure, need never know The pangs of jealousie: and love doth find More paine to doubt her false, then know her so: For patience is, of evils that are knowne, The certaine remedie; but doubt hath none. And be that thought once stirr’d, ’twill never die: Nor will grief more mild by custome prove, Nor yet amendment can it satisfie, The anguish more or lesse, is as our love; This misery doth jealousie ensue, That we may prove her false, but cannot true. Suspicious may the will of lust restraine, But good prevents from having such a will; A wife that’s good, doth chaste and more containe, For chaste is but an abstinence from ill: And in a wife that’s bad, although the best Of qualities; yet in a good, the least. To barre the meanes is care, not jealousie: Some lawfull things to be avoyded are, When they occasion of unlawfull be: Lust ere it hurts, is be descry’d afarre: Lust is a sinne of two; he that is sure Of either part, may be of both secure. Give me next good, an understanding wife, By nature wise, not learned by much art, Some knowledge on her side, will all my life More scope of conversation impart: Besides, her inborne vertue fortifie. They are most firmly good, that best know why. A passive understanding to conceive, And judgement to discerne, I wish to finde: Beyond that, all as hazardous I leave; Learning and pregnant wit in woman-kinde, What it findes malleable, makes fraile, And doth not adde more ballast, but more saile. Domesticke charge doth best that sex befit, Contiguous businesse; so to fixe the mind, That leisure space for fancies not admit: Their leysure ’tis corrupteth woman-kind: Else, being plac’d from many vices free, They had to heav’n a shorter cut than we. Bookes are a part of mans prerogative, In formall inke they thoughts and voyces hold, That we to them our solitude may give, And make time-present travell that of old. Our life, fame peeceth longer at the end, And bookes it farther backward doe extend. As good, and knowing, let her be discreete, That, to the others weight, doth fashion bring; Discretion doth consider what is fit, Goodnesse but what is lawfull; but the thing, Not circumstances; learning is and wit, In men, but curious folly without it. To keepe their name, when ’tis in others hands, Discretion askes; their credit is by farre More fraile than they: on likelihoods it stands, And hard to be disprov’d, lusts slanders are. Their carriage, not their chastity alone, Must keepe their name chaste from suspition. Womans behaviour is a surer barre Then is their no: that fairely doth deny Without denying; thereby kept they are Safe ev’n from hope; in part to blame is she Which hath without consent bin only tride; He comes too neere, that comes to be denide. Now since a woman we to marry are, A soule and body, not a soule alone, When one is good, then be the other faire; Beauty is health and beauty, both in one; Be she so faire, as change can yeeld no gaine; So faire, as she most woman else containe. So faire at least let me imagine her; That thought to me, is truth: opinion Cannot in matter of opinion erre; With no eyes shall I see her but mine owne. And as my fancy her conceives to be, Even such my senses both, doe feele and see. The face we may the seat of beauty call, In it the relish of the rest doth lye, Nay ev’n a figure of the mind withall: And of the face, the life moves in the eye; No things else, being two, so like we see, So like, that they, two but in number, be. Beauty in decent shape, and colours lies. Colours the matter are, and shape the soule; The soule, which from no single part doth rise, But from the just proportion of the whole. And is a meere spirituall harmony, Of every part united in the eye. Love is a kind of superstition, Which feares the idoll which it self hath fram’d: Lust a desire, which rather from his owne Temper, then from the object is inflam’d: Beauty is loves object; woman lust’s to gaine Love, love desires; lust onely to obtaine. No circumstance doth beauty beautifie, Like gracefull fashion, native comelinesse. Nay ev’n gets pardon for deformity; Art cannot ought beget, but may increase; When nature had fixt beauty, perfect made, Something she left for motion to adde. But let the fashion more to modesty Tend, then assurance: modesty doth set The face in her just place, from passions free, ’Tis both the mindes, and bodies beauty met; But modesty no vertue can we see; That is the faces onely chastity. Where goodnesse failes, ’twixt ill and ill that stands: Whence ’tis, that women though they weaker be, And their desire more strong, yet on their hands The chastity of men doth often lye: Lust would more common be then any one, Could it, as other sins, be done alone. All these good parts a perfect woman make: Adde love to me, they make a perfect wife: Without her love, her beauty should I take, As that of pictures; dead; that gives it life: Till then her beauty like the sun doth shine Alike to all; that makes it, only mine. And of that love, let reason father be, And passion mother; let it from the one His being take, the other his degree; Selfe-love (which second loves are built upon) Will make me (if not her) her love respect; No man but favours his owne worths effect. As good and wise; so be she fit for me, That is, to will, and not to will, the same: My wife is my adopted selfe, and she As me, so what I love, to love must frame: For when by mariage both in one concurre, Woman converts to man, not man to her.

And, what kind of YouTubers would these three be, if they were YouTuber backpackers, instead of scholars at King’s College in the UK? Regarding Watson, I think we all know what kind of YouTuber he would have been, here in Thailand. Watson would have spent most of his time in Pattaya, drooling. As for Crick, I guess he might have portrayed himself as some sort of god on YouTube. And, that is OK, because he is really intelligent, unlike Watson. Anytime I think of James Watson, I think of the dummy who followed around Sherlock Holmes, just as he followed around Crick and Franklin. What a fool! Regarding Franklin, she was really too nice. She did a great deal of very hard work, and was never credited for what she had contributed, as everybody knows. Maybe if she had not been a woman, but a ladyboy, instead, she would have been given more credit for her contribution. We can be thankful for Crick and Franklin. Watson, however, should never have tried to do science. James Watson is truly the type of intellect that you might see stumbling around in Pattaya, maybe getting into bar fights, or just leering at young women. Sometimes, I get freaked out by Thailand YouTubers. Yet, are they really so bad? No. Compared to at least one Nobel, they are darn right fine. King’s College London is amazing. Send your kids there…why not? Maybe they will write a pivotal thesis like Crick. The world has changed. And, maybe women are now given credit for their work, rather than their bra size. Rosalind Franklin was cheated by both Crick and Watson, as everybody knows. So, what it really boils down to is…..Can We Classify Thailand YouTubers in terms of their DNA: aa. The James Watson type of Thailand YouTuber bb. The Francis Crick type of Thailand YouTuber cc. The Rosalind Franklin type of Thailand YouTuber dd. The Rosalind Russell type of Thailand YouTuber What do you think? Rosalind Russell....All the Way! Russell has great DNA!