Epic

The end of another Chapter.

2007-10-20T08:42:00.000+08:00

The End of Another Chapter

Greetings, everyone.

It has been some time since I last posted. I have procrastinated, and dragged, and procrastinated again and again, and I have kept off from posting to this blog simply because I was too lazy to do so. It is unfortunate, but I am afraid this unannounced hiatus will have to be extended until such a time as I can find myself more regularly home.

It is a sad day for all of us, I know, who are reading this. I have had much joy and fun venting my craziness here with wild swingings of extreme opinions on this blog. I really enjoyed it, and it is sad for me as well, to see this blog stop for now. I do not know if, by the time I come back, I will continue to write in the same fashion, or if I will go for more serious topics, but as always, the future is uncertain, and is as ever in our own control. We shall see in the future.

And thus this marks the end of another great chapter of this good blog. I wish to thank everyone who has ever read, cursed at, laughed at, scorned at and visited this blog. Indeed, it has been a good run with all of you. Thank you for your support and your scorn.

Even when tomorrow comes...
Even when someday I become an adult,
I'm sure I'll always remember.
that you were here with me.
I'll never forget,
even when I'm in the very ends of this vast world.
For this moment that will never disappear,
I thank you, everyone.

Arigatou.

Until next time,
Yours Sincerely,
Runearay aka Vincent.

A pointless post.

2007-04-22T15:56:00.000+08:00

A Great Mystery SOLVED!

Alright people, I've decided to reveal one of the deepest, darkest secrets of my mysterious existence. Hail the Creator of all, hail whichever personal amulet of luck that you believe in, for such a fortunate experience will come but once in a few lifetimes. Indeed, you, amongst all the humans that have ever lived and might ever come to live, will be witness to the unveiling of a mystery so great nothing might come to surpass it for all time; unless I decide to reveal yet another of my great mysteries... but now, don't be greedy. One mystery at a time.

Alright, now that you have salivated all over your keyboard, it is finally time to reveal exactly what mystery I am going to tell you:

The great mystery that will be solved today is:

What the Great Runearay would post if he had nothing to blog about!

Indeed, fanatical readers of this great blog would have, by now, ascertained I have only posted when there is an insightful progress on my search to the meaning of life, or a great discovery that would radically change the progress of humankind. But fanatical readers will also have noticed that sometimes, despite my greatness, there is a lapse in my posts. Sometimes these lapses are longer, sometimes they are short.

Now, these lapses are, obviously, times when the Great Me has nothing of worth to post about, for few things in the world are worthy enough to be archived here. And although I do know how disappointing it is for my fans to access this blog day after day, hoping for a post but finding none, I always restrain myself from posting something less worthy than my standards demand.

And thus a great mystery has always confounded those who fanatically study my behavior: the mystery of what exactly I would post if I had nothing to blog about. And today, I have decided to enlighten those who seek that Knowledge. For Knowledge is Power, and I am one who believes in empowering my vassals so that they can support me in times of crisis.

To tell the truth, I have given this much thought myself. What would I post, should I one day, be unable to find something in the pathetic humans to be worthy enough to archive here? I contemplated blogging about the latest news in japanese animation; but as I look around, there are already a ton of "anime-blogs" around. And then I toyed with the idea of giving a synopsis, translation and personal opinion of my favourite songs, but again, there are forums for such discussions in fanlistings and translation sites.

The Great Me can be nothing else but unique, and therefore, I have discarded those ideas.

And so, what would I post if I had nothing to blog about? Why, the answer is: I would post something UNIQUE!

Hah, as if you all didn't see that coming. My hints were neon signs lighting the dark grey space of the night sky. Uniqueness is a quality that is, indeed, unique to me, therefore, everything I do and think is unique. Don't you think so too? I revel in paradoxes and word games, my mind is too great to be understood. And all of my unique ideas I choose to archive in a public "blog", a word that is not a word.

Ahh, the above paragraph was a synopsis of a few of my traits; and it is such a beautifully made paragraph.

Right, and thus ends this post.

Until next time. =)

Empathy: do you REALLY understand?

2007-03-08T22:25:00.000+08:00

Empathy: Do you REALLY understand..?

Alright people, I've got good news, and I've got bad news. Which do you want to hear first?

Well, I'm deciding to tell you the good news first, because I feel like it. The good news is that I'm going in the army next week, so your favourite monthly (or bi-monthly) blogger will soon be BLOGGING EVERY WEEK! Yahoo! Whee! Awesome! Give me a five, dude! Oh yeah!

Right, so if you believed the junk that was the previous paragraph, then... ahem, nevermind. Now, unfortunately, that really was the good news. The bad news is this:

The thing you all know as "Empathy" is nothing but a joke. (No, not an illusion, but a joke.) Oh yes, a joke. A big, funny joke that's played on you by the English language and the omnipotent Power that overlooks our lives. An April Fool's joke that never ends.

A joke, I say. But what does the dictionary say?

em·pa·thy /ˈɛmpəθi/ [em-puh-thee] –noun

1. the intellectual identification with or vicarious experiencing of the feelings, thoughts, or attitudes of another.
2. the imaginative ascribing to an object, as a natural object or work of art, feelings or attitudes present in oneself: By means of empathy, a great painting becomes a mirror of the self.

I'm referring to the first usage of "Empathy": the thing every single one of you have claimed to have felt for another.

"I understand how you feel."

A simple phrase that brings so much warmth and conveys so much emotional support. A single phrase that builds an invisible bridge of understanding between two, unqiue individuals, that builds friendship and trust and a common interest in a subject or thought. A phrase that invokes a sacred feeling of being two, yet together. A bonding.

How is this possible? You know it yourself. You've gone through it yourself. When you're at your most down, your most terrible state, a part of you just wants to curl up and die. Another part of you wants to hurt anyone who dares come near you. And a small part, a tiny part, an insignificant part of you calls out for someone to come to you, and comfort you, and take this pain away, or at least share in your pain.

Please don't mistake what I'm trying to describe as "Sympathy". There is nothing a person could want less than sympathy when he or she is feeling terrible. I don't need your pity when I'm feeling down. I need your empathy. I need someone to be there for me, to do something I cannot describe in words, but something all the same. Even if there is nothing anyone can do, I still would want someone to be with me. Even if I rage and yell and shout and say I want to be alone, a small part of me still cries out in loneliness.

A man cannot survive as an island, after all, or you cease to be human in any emotional sense of the word. That's humanity for you; at its lowest point, a person would still want to make others worry, to make them accompany them, until the trauma is forgotten, or "put behind" or "gotten over" or whatever you people call it.

Yet why do I say that this "Empathy", which humans all have in one form or another, is nothing but a joke? Well, the answer is simple. Isn't it funny, let me ask you, if you're "empathizing" with someone, and that person believes you are "empathizing" with him, yet in fact, you are not?

Let me illustrate you an example. A classic one.

You are a normal, average person. You are walking on the road, an empty road, when you come across a young girl, sitting on the curbwalk, crying like the world was ending. Being the good samaritan you are, you walk over and ask what happened. The girl lifts her bloody, wounded face and tells you, "I was assaulted."

Now, at this point, if I were to ask your reaction, each of you would give me a different one. Outrage, horror, alarm, shock. Whichever reaction you get, however, I'm sure each of you would try to comfort the girl. To provide her the empathy that you instinctively know she needs. How would you empathise? You don't even know what she went through. Was it an animal? Was it a killer? Where were her parents? Were they killed before her eyes? How would you empathise?

Alright, let's move to a different scenario. You are a police officer (whether you like it or not), and suddenly, in bursts this good citizen, a girl with her face scratched bloody cradled in his arms. She is settled onto a chair, and you gaze concernedly at the person who brought her in, whose face is a mixture of outrage, horror, alarm and shock. You put in an emergency call for medical help. Then you compose yourself and ask the girl to explain, in as much detail as possible, what happened. The girl describes a harrowing account of a torturous day spent in the company of a crazed serial killer who mangled her parents' bodies and raped her.

Now, I'm going to be a little insensitive here, if you're easily disturbed, don't read this paragraph. But I know you will anyway. Some of you have been raped. Some of you have had your parents killed before your eyes by a crazed serial killer. Very few of you had both happen to you. What are you going to do if you only had either one of the two, or neither, experiences? Can you truly, at this point in time, kneel down beside the girl, hug her tight and whisper, "I understand how you feel."? Can you truly understand how she feels? Even if you had both trauma happen to you, in the exact circumstances as the girl did, could you say that phrase with absolute confidence? Even twins react differently to the same circumstances; you, who are not a twin to the girl, can you really understand her feelings and thoughts at that point in time?

Alright, let's not speculate on something so theoretical. Let's look at something closer to all our hearts. You've had friends, haven't you, who have cried? You've had friends, haven't you, who told you some of their problems? From something as simple as what to wear when returning to school to collect results to something as big as having a cold war for years with siblings... I myself have confided in many people on my own problems, either seeking a solution or just a ear to talk to. I myself have fretted and worried and discussed other people's problems with them and other people, and have, sometimes, come up with some kind of solution.

Yet, each time I hear someone tell me, "I understand how you feel," I cannot help but smile sadly. Each time I myself tells another person, "I understand how you feel," I cannot help but grit my teeth and sigh at my own hypocrisy. Do I really understand? How can I understand?

To quote a book,

Have you ever had a moment when you sat at the deathbed of a close friend who is suffering, and thought to yourself, "Oh, gods, I cannot imagine the kind of pain he feels."? After all, pain is not the same as pain-behavior, and the peculiar awfulness of pain - what it's like - is never known except by feeling it.

I believe in the truth of an idiom, "Empathy is a two-way street". It is useless to empathise with someone who doesn't reciprocate. I can no more empathise with you any more than a rock can if you're holding me down and cutting my face. There's no way I can cry and say, "I'm so sad, I feel your pain, I understand your need to eat my flesh so that you can live on."

If you don't trust me on this one, you can go ask Hannibal Lector what he felt when his sister was killed like cattle to be eaten.

Yet at this point in time, I pose a question; if empathy is a two-way street... how can we know where each end of the street connects? Can you imagine an instance when two grieving women are hugging each other, believing they are empathizing with each other's loss of life-mate... but one of whom is a lesbian? Can you imagine what is going through both women's minds, believing they "truly understand each other", when the truth doesn't even come close?

Has it ever occured to you, that the same may be for you when you were comforting a friend, or being comforted?

Its a joke isn't it? I'm sure you giggled a little at the image of the two women. You find it funny too, don't you?

What's the point of this whole post?

The point is that it is useless to empathise, to even try. Because there is, theoretically, zero chance of truly understanding what another person is feeling. Even if we put theory aside, its still a joke.

Humans, however, are very unique creatures. We are creatures of hope, yet there is no such thing as "hope" in the Universe, only facts, circumstances and results. We are social creatures, yet empathy is a joke that is being played on us. We are alive, but we live as though we were dead.

Its pointless to worry about empathy, because there is no way you can run away from it. When the next person comes to me with their problems, I'm still going to hear them through, and then empathise, and if I can, I want to tell them, "I understand how you feel." I want to, because empathy is a two-way street, and I need the empathy that I am giving as much as I am receiving.

Do I really understand? Chances are, no, but I still want to understand, and I still will try, even if its useless to even try.

Do you understand what I am saying? Do you REALLY understand?

Good night, and until next week!

P.S. the weekly posts only apply after my first two-week confinement!

P.P.S. if you really believed the P.S., then you now have my permission to cut your wrists and emo.

Quality vs Quantity

2007-01-19T19:48:00.000+08:00

Quality vs Quantity

I'm sure all of you have heard of the phrase "quality over quantity" being used when someone is trying to make excuses for their slow (and unproductive) work. I'm sure many of you have used the very same excuse before as well. I am sure, at least, that I myself am guilty of this; afterall, that was the "philosophy" I comforted myself with when I become too lazy to blog more than once a month (or longer, as the recent delays in posting shows) from since sometime last year.

Today, I'm going to talk about this cliche, and how, despite current technological advances, it is still relevant to our lives in this day and age.

By the way, as a slight digression, I want to re-emphasize the fact that, bastard and hypocrite though I am, I am not a liar. And thus, my posts, which have decreased in quantity, have INDEED, increased in quality, as is apparent when you read anyway. (ahem)

So, let us begin. Shall we agree on the basic premise of the phrase, "quality over quantity" first? The phrase states that the two mentioned subjects are in conflict with one another. For example, "Instead of quantity, let us have quality" is what it says. Therefore, by extension, the two subjects, "quantity" and "quality" can be said to be opposing in nature. Similar, maybe, to concepts like "good" and "evil", or "light" and "darkness".

Now, is this premise true?

Well, it certainly is true that the rationale behind the creation of that phrase is rooted in a natural conflict between the two subjects. As humans, we all know that you can't really create something that is well-done (ie. high in quality) if you rush it. Therefore, when you try to make more of something in a shorter amount of time (ie. high in quantity) you compromise on the quality. A rushed drawing cannot compare with a painting in which the artist has put alot of effort and time into; a hastily put-together wooden model will fall apart faster than one where the glue was applied carefully and allowed to dry properly; a piece of homework will be more prone to "careless" errors if it was rushed through in the middle of the night rather than done slowly through the weekend.

Of course, for each of the examples I've stated, there are exceptions. A naturally careless person (read: the stupid me) might make as many mistakes while doing his homework through the weekend as if he'd done it in five minutes' time; a less creative artist (read: the totally artistically inept me) might churn out a work that is still average, despite spending more time on it than a talented artist; and wooden models can be broken easily by a clumsy person (read: me) whether or not it was well-made.

Quality, however, isn't just physical. There is still the spiritual aspect to it; the effort, the hard work, the sweat and blood of the crafter. I'm sure you understand the feelings a mother will feel upon receipt of a hand-made, but horribly ugly birthday card from a three-year-old. Its hardly the "epitome of quality", but still, there is something to it that makes it all that much more important. The spiritual value we, as humans, imbue upon the things around us, even inanimate things, can overcome the physical inferiorities of the said things.

In general, I think it is safe to agree that something which was done in a hurry, with little thought and effort put into it, is of a lower quality, both physically and spiritually speaking.

And therein lies the original rationale which led to the phrase "quality over quantity", where humans treasure the quality of a well made item, rather than the quantity of the item itself.

We still haven't proved that quality and quantity are polar opposites, though. What is to say that quality and quantity cannot both exist at the same time? Afterall, with technology, that is now much more possible than ever, isn't it? Think about it: the original limitation where quality would be compromised by quantity was a human limit. A talented wood-crafter can make hundreds, maybe thousands, of well-done, much treasured, priceless wooden toys in his lifetime. But take the same technics, take the same secrets, take the same means and materials, and program it into a machine; then have ten of those machines mass-produce those toys. Hundreds of thousands, even millions of toys of the same quality can be churned out in the space of a year.

Machines, afterall, don't have to waste twenty-odd years learning to be an "adult", machines, afterall, can be fixed when broken, machines, afterall, don't need to eat, or shit, or be subject to temper tantrums and pre/post-menstrual syndromes; machines won't be affected by the thousands of minituae that can delay human production. And machines can re-produce whatever is programmed into them with near perfect replication. Quantity, thus, can be acheived with no compromise to quality.

Can we thus say, then, that quality and quantity can, in fact exist at the same time?

No. Quality and quantity cannot exist at the same time. Even after all those examples I stated of technology transcending the human limitations, the fact remains that quality and quantity cannot exist at the same time. This is no longer an issue of human weaknesses; but rather, is tied into the concept of the words "quality" and "quantity". Quantity implies a large number, numerous. Quality implies a certain status that is above others, something unique, or superior. Thus, the two concepts come into direct, natural conflict. How can you have something that is superior, yet numerous at the same time? You cannot. The moment you mass-produce a high-quality product, it ceases to become of a high-quality, but instead, becomes... normal. It is no longer something people would "wow" and "ooh" over; there will be no musing over its "craftsmanship", because there is no craftsmanship to speak of. And in the midst of all that normalcy, a new "quality" will emerge as one that is superior to the one that has been mass-produced.

Fifty years ago, a black-and-white movie was considered high-quality. Now, special effects are being used in such huge quantities that the quality of movies has taken on the form of a good plotline instead of how real the movie looks. When the qualities of the past era is overcome by the quantities of technolgical advances, new qualities emerge that take over that niche. Forevermore, quality will be something that is rare and not easily found; whereas the great mass that is normalcy and quantity will forever be average and dull and boring. That is how the world is.

Are you unique? Or are you, like the boy from half a world away and who is also reading this blog at this instant, only average and... normal? What are the "qualities" that you have..? Courage? Empathy? Think about how many others have these so called "qualities" of yours, and then tell me again, whether you are of a high quality, or simply part of a large quantity.

And so, we've come full circle. There is no denying that my posts are of a higher quality now, since, afterall, without quantity, there must be quality... right?

Hee. Mission accomplished.

Virtue or Sin: Selfishness

2006-12-03T18:52:00.000+08:00

Virtue or Sin: Selfishness

Selfishness is as much a part of you as it is a part of me. Selfishness is, undeniably, a human trait through and through. Each and every one of us are selfish; selfish against our best friends, selfish against our worst enemies. Selfish for materialistic wants, and selfish for emotional attention. No matter what kind of selfishness there is, we have it all.

There is no person on this planet who has true "altruism". Well, except for Jesus Christ, but that is water infested with sharks: a place I'm not going to go into.

Don't misunderstand me, I'm not saying all of us are spendthrifts and selfish bastards that we clutch at our wallets everytime the word "lend" and "borrow" even floats through the air. No, unfortunately, we're not that selfish. Oh, yeah, you didn't make a mistake. I did just say that it was unfortunate that people are not all selfish.

You see, if everyone on the face of this planet was 100% selfish, then life would be so easy. We won't need to worry about whether we need to sacrifice our time for others. We won't ever need to go, "oh, they have their exams coming up, better put off that pool session I want so badly for now." We'll just drag all our friends out, and have fun whenever we want to, with no thought at all for their feelings, their mood, and their wants. It'll be all about us.

Isn't that nice?

Who cares, anyway, about other people's wants. I'd really rather be with my girlfriend all day long. So, all of you mutual friends, buzz the fuck off and go stick your faces up a rubbish chute... until I need you, that is. Who cares, anyway, about other people's needs. I'd really rather be with my girlfriend 24/7, so she can jolly well put her entire fucking life on hold and be at my side when I want her to be, and to hell with toilet breaks.

Who cares, anyway, about whether those starving children in Afghanistan, or whatever the fuck country is starving, needs food. I want my McDonalds, so I'll go out and eat as much as I want, and if I want to, I'll throw away all that I don't want. Who cares.

Hey, if you have the freedom to not care, if you have the freedom to unfetter yourself from those pesky "responsibilities" and "considerations", wouldn't life be so much better and easier? You can do what you like, whenever you like, however long you like, and to hell with everything else. All that matters is you. You.

Oh yeah, such a Utopia is impossible. I know its impossible, and I'm not going to deny it. Even looking at it logically, no two person can be 100% selfish, because being 100% selfish means that everyone else's feelings must take second place to your own; that condition alone cannot be satisfied. It cannot happen; a paradox. Blah blah. Impossible.

But think about it. Just imagine it for one second. That you and you alone can be 100% selfish, and everyone else in existence has to attend to your every need and care. Don't deny your feelings now, it is something that is nice. It IS something you want, deep in your heart; impossible though it may be. In each and everyone of us lies the urge to just say, "Everyone else's problems are not mine, so just fuck off." It may be actively suppressed, or maybe that urge never surfaced for you. But it exists. There will be times, if you haven't already experienced it, that you will want to just forget the world exists, and to just be selfish. Nothing else, just be selfish, 100%, for that one moment.

Now, before we proceed on to examine these feelings, shall we take a look at what we humans, as a general consensus, have agreed to define "selfishness" as?

Courtesy of www.dictionary.com

self·ish /ˈsɛlfɪʃ/
- adjective
1.
devoted to or caring only for oneself; concerned primarily with one's own interests, benefits, welfare, etc., regardless of others.
2.
characterized by or manifesting concern or care only for oneself: selfish motives.

~~~

Selfishness is, I quote, being "concerned primarily with one's own interests, benefits, welfare, etc., regardless of others."

In otherwords; taking care of oneself without caring whether the act of "taking care of oneself" will affect other people, be it negatively or positively. You tell me, is that such a nasty thing to do? Is being selfish all that undesirable afterall? It is inconsiderate, yes, we're not caring about others, implying we feel we are superior to others. Our "interests, benefits, welfare etc" must come before other people's, yes.

Survival of the fittest, dear. Survival is inconsiderate. The wolf isn't going to politely ask the lion, "Hey, dude, will me eating this deer and not sharing it with you hurt your feelings?" The hunter isn't going to tell the elephant, "Hey, dudette, your children are out playing after a long day walking so I'll hunt them tomorrow." Do you think the hunter cares what the elephant babies have been doing all day? Do you think the wolf cares if the lion will become emotionally scarred?

Do you really think I care about you?

Well, yeah, I do care; I do care about you all, my friends and all.. but let me tell you, when push comes to shove, I'm gonna look after my own first. I'm not going to tell the soldier shooting at me, "Hey, I know you got a kid and a wife at home, so I'll let you live and you can shoot me instead." If you're shooting at me, I'm so gonna take this knife and plunge it into your eyeballs and your nostrils and your mouth and your ears.

Selfishness is not a bad thing, people. Selfishness is a human trait, and is thus neither "virtuous" nor "sinful". A survival reflex, if you will.

So here comes the big "Q". The big question. Why do people be selfish, even when their lives are not at stake? Why? Its a human trait, isn't it? Its a survival reflex, isn't it? What has that two dollars you refuse to lend me gotta do with your survival when you've got another twenty bucks in your wallet? What has giving me the attention I crave for a short five minutes got to do with your survival when you're lying on your own bed in boredom anyway? Is it a "sin", then, to be "selfish" when you're not being threatened with imminent death?

My answer? Oh, you know my answer already. Its the answer that lurks around your own heart. No, being selfish, even when there is no danger of an imminent heart failure, or automobile accident, or fire-outbreak, or virulous disease, or machete-wielding fanatics bursting into the room you're sitting in staring at the computer at... is not a "sin" in any sense of the word. Well, okay, so I don't really know the meanings of all the senses of the word "sin", but I don't care. The point is, its not a bad thing to be selfish, even when you're not about to die.

You see, selfishness is a survival reflex; ie. it only crops up when your instincts realise the situation is one you cannot afford to repeat over and over in the long term. You have twenty-two dollars. Lending two isn't a big deal; but if a hundred of your friends asked you to? And you gave in all the time? Do you think your survival will be threatened, then? What about if every single attention-seeking leech clamped onto you to ask for "just five minutes"? Idling at your bed or not, its not going to lengthen your life-span any.

When people come to you with their problems, you want to help them; but sometimes, when it gets just abit much... you want to shut them out and say, "just fuck off". Is that a bad thing? Are you being 'selfish'?

Going by the definition, yes, it is selfish to do that; but its not wrong either.

So, then, is it selfish of me when I want you to listen to me whenever I have a problem? Maybe it is, but my own instincts are telling me, I cannot handle so many of such circumstances without someone to talk to. Therefore, I go looking for someone to talk to. It is selfish of me... but is it wrong?

Something's gotta give, dude. One man's victory is another's loss. Are you going to constantly answer the call for emotional support, or are you going to indulge in your selfishness, your survival reflex, to be "selfish"? Will you be able to know when to choose between which?

When push comes to shove... will you be selfish, or considerate?

Is it a virtue, or a sin?

I'm back!

2006-09-09T09:20:00.000+08:00

Spammers

Yes, I'm back after a one-and-a-half month long absence. Yarr, jump for joy, people, your favourite weekly blogger is back in business.

*silence*

Right, today, I'm gonna bitch about: *drumroll* who else but SPAMMERS!? Yarr! (I think "Yarr" is supposed to be some pirate warcry or something. I just thought it'd sound cool.)

*silence*

So as all of you online-no-lifers know, spam is about the worst thing ever happened to the Universe, and worst of all, it has a tendency to find its way into your house. (!!) Its a terrible thing, really. Imagine this. Coming home, all tired out from yet another boring, no-life day at work or school, and you plump down onto your couch munching on potato chips, happily booting up your computer. What's the first thing you see? This:

COME, Come, come! The great wwwDOTgamble-to-loseDOTcom cordially invites you to our -PORNO PIC- opening!!!!!!![][][]!![]![]!![]!!![][]![]!!![]![][]!!![]!![][]!!!!![]!!![]!!![][]!![]!![]![]!!![]!!!![]!!!!![][]!![]!![]![]!!![][]![]![]![]!!![]![]

Whew, its not easy trying to be a spammer. I spent the last 15 minutes composing the above spam. Well, you can imagine how that one spam message, in your email or in a spy-ware pop-up, will, like, TOTALLY ruin your day. Aye, you can't sleep, can't eat, can't go to the god damned latrine after seeing it. It is totally, awesomely disgusting. Yeah, spammers should be gelded and stuffed face first into the nearest toilet bowl, then drowned in a pool of bodily excretions and...

Okay, I know some of you are eating/will be eating/has just eaten so I won't go into the graphic details. But don't you agree with me, that spam really ought to take first place on the "most hated and hunted thing on the cyberworld"? I mean, hey, if the police and censorship boards has the bloody time to go look for and replace "Government Criticism" with "********** *********", then they jolly well have the time to find and weed out all the rubbish spam that's plaguing the internet world.

Not only the internet world, its such a horrible phenomenon that some bastards have brought it to the Prime Material Plane.. .ah, I mean the real world. (Playing too many games... in the middle of my exams too. =X)

Aye, do you not see the spammers hiding behind the pillar right outside MRT stations and interchanges, pouncing on every unlucky passer-by to inundate them with scraps of paper screaming the words: "ALOE-VERRA SMOOooOOTH SPA! COME TRY IT NOW! 3-DAY FREE TRIAL!" Granted, many of those aren't spammers by trade, but instead, slaves to the over-whelming consumerism that has the world gripped in its devilish embrace, causing students and children as young as five to throw tantrums and cry (and spam) in order to get the money to buy the latest Power Rangers Ninja'd Storm 1337 Megabot. But consumerism and its own plague is for another day.

Back to spam. You can see how it is socially undesirable in both its original medium, the Internet, and in the real world. Yet, it still exists. Nay, not "exists", it thrives! Oh, woe be me, the depravity of the world is now complete. Why, can you please answer this question, do people perpetuate spam? And yes, contrary to popular belief, spam is not generated by a mindless, evil, world-domination seeking computer. It is generated by countless individuals who have no life and should be gelded and mashed face-first down the nearest toilet bowl. These "spammers" as we call them, derive their pleasure in life by composing and typing out pages and pages of intellectual junk and crap and posting them in pop-ups, BBSes, Forums, tag-boards, and most importantly, on their own blogs!

Aye, these "bloggers" as you call them, are nothing more than "spammers"! They put up on the Internet snippets of their lives that no one, absolutely NO ONE, except fellow depraved bloggers, (aka spammers) want to read. And worst of all, some are so narcissistic that they even proudly proclaim themselves, "your favourite weekly blogger", as if ANYONE with half a sane brain would want to even KNOW what goes on in your god-forsaken, good-for-nothing, and ultimately, BORING-AS-HELL life.

This is a shoutout to all so-called "bloggers" (aka spammers), especially those who call themselves "your favourite weekly blogger" and says "yarr!" (as though you thought it was cool) in their blogs:

Do the world a favour, and go spread your spam to the underworld. And when you've finally reached purgatory, STAY THERE AND DON'T SHOW YOUR FACE ON THE EARTH ANYMORE YOU FRIGGIN' RETARDS.

Aye, I encourage one and all to spread this message to any and all spammers you see henceforth. If the world will unite against spam and its perpetuators, I am confident that one day, perhaps not in our generation, we will be rid of the simly, icky idiots and their brain-rotting, mindless, intelligence-degrading spam.

For the sake of our children and grandchildren, I beg all of you to join me in the crusade against spam!

-Yours Sincerely,
Your favourite weekly blogger
Yarr! 'Cuz its cool, yo.

The Groove of Love

2006-07-29T13:32:00.000+08:00

The Groove of Love

Who's love? Mine, of course. Everyone knows I am the most loving man ever to walk the Earth. I am second to none... except, perhaps, a few thousand people. Or maybe a few million. Or maybe... Well, nevertheless, its great to love, don't you think?

Before I begin my pointless, futile discourse into a topic no one is even remotely interested in, let me take a detour and lighten the mood with some fancy breakfast. Yes, this morning, I met my soul-mate. We clicked off right away. I looked into his eyes and he looked into mine, and we each saw in the other something similar. What is it, you ask? Why, what else could it be, but the groove of love?

Yes, it was a day that appeared no different from any other. I was on my peaceful way to buy some breakfast when I stopped in front of the roti-prata stall. Oh, what a sight. Oh the heavens. GONE! Gone were the old tenants, an indian lady who smiled often and worked slowly. Instead, who do I see? I see... an indian man! Well, two, actually. But one was the person doing the cooking, the other greeted customers. And what a way he greeted. Every syllable was timed perfectly. Timed to what?

To the groove of love.

Oh yes, I knew then, I met my soul-mate. A man able to love as much as I, a man who understands that love, and the groove of love, is what makes the world go round, and bedamned to money. You could see it in the sparkle of his eyes, a jubilant, bold-as-brass, scintillant glint that seemed to shine like a jewel from the heavens. You could feel it in the way his thick mustache quivered with excitement from the first customer of the day. Immediately my surroundings, hell, my whole life became brighter. I could finally find it in myself to hope once again.

When my order came at last, and I left the coffee-shop, I'd begun to feel as though nothing could stand in my way. I was the Lord of the Rings, the Chosen One, the Prophesized Twin (god knows where my other twin is), the Divine Dreamer, the Leader of Men, the General of Victories, the Baron of Beer, the King of Kopi, the Slayer of Souls, the Pruissant Prince, the Knightly Knight, the Butcher of Bears...

Gods, I felt so good I started to groove to the love too.

So, as I walked home, bobbing my head to the non-existent groove that the indian man had grooved for me, I began to wonder...

And so we have come, after that light-hearted detour, to the crux of the matter: the Groove of Love.

I wondered one word: why? Why couldn't people learn to be like that indian man? Why couldn't they serve with a smile? I've been in the service line for around a decade now (I'm not kidding. I HAVE been in service CCAs for the past ten years.) and I know exactly how much a difference it makes when you're black-faced and when you're smiling your teeth off. People feel it is easier to approach you when you smile, nervousness is banished, contact and relationship is made. Why, if you smile hard enough, whoever comes to bother you might even finish his business as fast as possible just to get away from you.

Isn't that spiffy? On the other hand, people tend to stay around black-faced service assistants, prodding and provoking so much that you'd like to explode and take the whole damned earth with you. If you give off the "I hate you" vibes, people will seem to find a reason to come to you and give off the same vibes around you. Worse still, those vibes they give off often come with a stench worse than your own. You don't get any peace, you get prolonged torture, and even worse, your pay might even be docked.

Given such a set of advantages versus disadvantages, I would have thought anyone would choose to be happy and bubbly. Look at all the good things that'll come your way. Peace and prosperity, and a wide circle of friends! As for those who adopt a scowl for a permanent facial expression, you might as well go straight to hell; it'll probably be more comfortable.

There are some idiots who argue that you can't be happy all the time. (I am one of them.) I disagree vehemently. Why the hell can't you be happy all the time? What's wrong with it? So what if you'd look like a break-out from the local nut-house? Why, crazy people have so much better a life than the normal people. Think about it. We have to work, eat, sleep and shit. What do they have to do? Drool and... well, drool. Everything else is taken care of. They just need to drool to be able to feel a sense of accomplishment. Isn't that great?

Yes, why limit the groove of love to the service sector? Why not share the love? Why, everyone should groove to the groove of love. Imagine. Just imagine. It is the A-level examinations. Everyone's nervous and tense in the hall. Shaking in their boots, so to speak. How do you think they will do? They'll be so nervous they'll faint halfway through the exam. Now, imagine it is the A-levels, but with one marked difference. Everyone is groovin' to the groove of love. Everyone's bobbing their heads to a non-existent tune going round and round. Can you imagine, over 500 students, united in their uniforms, and sitting in the hall, bobbing their heads to the groove of love?

The atmosphere would be so different. A sea of black (and some brown, or yellow, or purple, or rainbow-coloured) haired students bobbing in unity to the groove of love. Oh dammit, that will be so uplifting. No exam can stand in our way! Not even the monstrous Bahamut Zero, or the mathematics question, or the Napoleon history, or whatever the hell people take for exams these days. Everyone'll get a perfect score!

Can you imagine a company doing the same? People walking on orchard road, past office buildings, will probably be able to feel the groove emanating from the buildings. Profits will soar, shareholders will never lose confidence, the entire freaking world will gain in economic prosperity.

We could beam the groove of love in an interstellar effort to contact otherworldly species. Why resort to charting the unchartable oceans of space? Why, the groove of love will draw to us aliens like iron fillings flocking to magnets. And man, they'll come bobbing to the groove of love of course. Imagine the sight: an endless horizon of alien spaceships, bobbing in unity in the emptiness of space, now not so empty anymore because it is filled with the groove of love.

Can you see my dream? Can you see my vision? The vision of all the life that ever lived bonded together in the groove of love, a network of love and brotherhood, (and sisterhood, of course. I'm not sexist.) lines tracing across the arc of space to connect far-flung civilizations to the progress of all. A grand plan that, unfortunately, will never see fruition, because there are people out there who would, indeed, destroy what we work towards. They would scowl and frown their way through our defenses, and steal our riches to be consumed.

It is sad, that the groove of love, which originated from humans is doomed to be masked under and swallowed by the avarice of humans themselves. It is a pity, that the one tool to unite the entire Universe into the one true Utopia will be undone by the sorrow-seeking nature of humans. Oh! I cannot bear to continue, the cruel paradox, that the saviors of the Universe, the mighty humans, are also the ones who would drive it to its doom, the despised humans.

For now, even though I know my dream will never come true, I shall groove to the groove of love, and hope, even though I know it is futile, that human beings will come to their senses and acknowledge the power of the groove of love....

Garfield 2

2006-06-22T18:30:00.000+08:00

Garfield 2

No, I've not watched the movie, nor am I planning to. And no, I'm not going to satirize it here. And no, I did not put the name of the second movie of the "world's fattest cat" so that I can talk about the movie here.

In fact, I'm going to blog about something that's totally unrelated to the movie, and some might say, unrelated to Garfield as well. The only link that this blog has with "Garfield 2" is.. yes, the catch-phrase of the "world's fattest cat", only my subject is about the "world's fattest me".

I remember that when the first Garfield movie came out, the "world's fattest cat" reminded me alot of Kitson. Not because he's fat, but because of the "hey, I'm in my element. I'm at the top of the world, I'm confident, and I'm gonna kick your big fat ass" vibes Garfield has. Granted, Kitson doesn't usually give out those vibes, but I guess I was having some serious flashbacks of Kitson when he was trying to be sarcastic. No offense.

But anyway, I was on the bus today when the new Garfield trailer came out. And it was the fourth time in one day that I saw the word "fat". Nope, the other three times wasn't from the trailer. It was from my dear dear friend Mark, and his Long Song Tongs. He commented I was fat, (he put it nicely, and in a brotherly way, of course. But being the petty, vain, egotistical me, I'm trying to put his actions in an unfavourable light.) and I agree totally. But I swear to god, every time he said it, I saw the word "FAT" float in front of my eyes, mocking me with its.. well, fatness.

And this happened on the second day of my diet. How cool is that?

Just a few days before, I saw my cousin's new MSN nickname. He is in primary six, I think, and he IS the fattest amongst all the cousins his age. His nickname said, "Fatter than you, and proud of it." And a few days after that, which was three days ago, I met Mark for the first time after the holidays began, and he already told me I put on weight. Now, I would like to say I'm normally immune to such stuff. I would like to say that I'm not vain, that my growing tummy (which I was noticing long before Mark told me I was fat) was not a concern to me. But I'd be bullshitting. Yes, I was fat, and I was worried. Yeah, like a girl worrying over her weight, I was worrying over mine.

Sad case eh?

Well, so I embarked on a diet yesterday, and it is still going on today. And I still remembered to cut back on rice on my dinner tonight. The only problem is that, as far as I can see, I seem to be making up for the less rice by eating more of the dishes. A diet doomed to fail... I now see the reason girls who frequently diet do what they always do: frequently diet.

I've learnt, though, that by saying an endeavour is "doomed to failure", it wipes out whatever small iota of a chance the endeavour has of succeeding. And so, after such a long, meandering, meaningless account of how fat I've grown, I've finally come to my point: Pessimism.

I was told, today, how pessimistic I was. Just because I said that the entire world cup is rigged, and that every match has a script, and that even Micheal Owen's broken knee is well-compensated for by a (probably) life-time pension, I was accused of commiting one of the worst criminal acts in this modern world of technology: Pessimism. So just how criminal is pessimism anyway?

It is, according to the various voluntary opinions offered me (or should I say, the various unsolicited opinions thrust upon me) through my life, a crime worthy of the formidable capital punishment. Let me state to you examples of such philosophies:

1) The story of the frogs climbing the tower circulating around chain-email circles. For those of you losers who haven't read it yet, this is the gist: a thousand little froggies (cute and huggly too) are all climbing a mount-everest-high tower for god knows what reason. As they climb, some pessimistic bastards kept shouting to them, telling them they couldn't do it. And so they all failed. Except for this 1 retarded frog that kept climbing until he did it. Why? Cuz he was a retard, and deaf to boot. Moral of the story: Pessmists suck, listen to them and you'll fail, stopper your ears and you, like the retarded frog, will succeed.

2) One of the stories in xxxHOLiC talk about this pair of twins, and how powerful words can be. I don't want to be sued for spoilers and copywrite (yes, I spelled it copyWRITE purposely, just as the retarded capitalization of the word "HOLiC" is deliberate), so I'll just sum up the story: one twin was being pessimistic, and the other was being fucked up because of it. Moral: Words have power, and negative words (ie pessimism) can kill.

3) During an philosophic argument about ethics (not ethnics, you retards. ETHICS. Check a dictionary please.) between Socrates and Thrasymachus, where Thrasymachus adopts a pessimistic view about ethics, (read up on it yourself, you lazy bastards) Socrates manage to run circles around Thrasymachus' arguments and then tie him upside down, inside out. Moral: Pessimism can be easily refuted... and being pessimistic can be deadly for your pride and dignity.

(NOTE: the last example is heavily laced with my own interpretations, and since I'm a pessimistic bastard, it may be heavily skewed in my favour. I AM quoting it as an example for the argument AGAINST pessimism, however.)

Now, you see what a terrible, horrible, and absolutely fearrible (I rawk.) force pessimism is? By being pessimistic, you are pulling others down into the dark despair bequeathed you for your own selfish actions. You are destroying bright talents who might, one day, unleash their force to dispel evil and restore order in this blighted world. You are contributing to an insidious, dark network of evil and corruption that will grip this universe and ensorcel the very earth beneath our feet into eternal slavery to the fell forces of evils beyond imagination.

Well, I guess this is the end. I've wrapped up my argument. Conclusion: Pessimism sucksass, and Optimism, its opposite, roxxor. End of story. Period. Line Break.

...

Hmm, so you detected the incongruity too? Lo and behold! We have, through our denoucement of pessimism, discovered another evil! Gasp in horror, widen your eyes in terror, shiver in fearror, for the truth of the moment has come upon us!

Optimism isn't all that good either.

Oh yes, you didn't see wrongly. Your eyes are not fooling you. I have, indeed, just announced that optimism, the opposite of pessimism, is NOT, I repeat, NOT the best thing that can and has ever happened to humankind.

You disagree, as usual.

You think that optimism is good, don't you? Yes, that is true. Encouragement is one of the best things that can happen to a person. When a guy is feeling down, do you go to him and say, "NYAH NYAH NYAH. You failed your exams! Woe be to you! I got a 'A'! Har Har!"

Definitely not, right? What you should do is to encourage him. Don't give up. Don't feel too bad. Failures are the parents of success. Try again. It doesn't matter how many times you fall down, as long as you always get up after it. Work harder. Jia you! Ganbatte.

It gives humans hope where despair has choked the human spirit. It allows people to look past failures and stop wallowing in self-misery and self-pity. It brings light where darkness has smothered the inner flame of a person's determination. It spurs humans to greater heights. The power to encourage those around you is a sign of a leader, of a team-person, of a considerate, compassionate heart. The ability to be optimistic in the face of unrelenting bad odds will open the door for miracles to happen.

How can that be bad? Well, in plenty of ways. As the saying goes, true Light illuminates, not blinds. Encouragement and optimism can only work their magic to the extent that the truth extends. How can saying, "Things aren't too bad." when a madman is pointing a gun to your head help alleviate matters? Will saying, "Let's be optimistic. You can get an 'A' as well." really garuntee a distinction grade?

Will saying, "My diet is absolutely infalliable" make it an absolute success?

Optimism in the face of adversity is the mark of a brave man, they say. But how brave is it, to hide in the false security blanket one has created for oneself, when the world outside is falling to pieces because of your own incompetence? Let me quote you this example:

A guy who doesn't work hard, doesn't want to work hard, is failing his exams. He is not stupid. He is intelligent enough to see the problem. He is also intelligent enough to know he is intelligent. But he doesn't want to work hard. In this scenario, which of the two following sentences do you think is best said to him?

1) "You can surely get a distinction if you work hard. Come on and try."

2) "You're going to fail if you don't buck up. Fail. F. A. I. L. You're going to end up a garbage cleaner, licking other people's boots, buying groceries for fat bastards who have an IQ half of yours."

A dilemma? Not so. The first option will see him scoff at your advice. He is, afterall, smarter than you are. Who do you think you are to act like a fucking angel from heaven? He doesn't need your encouragement. He doesn't want your encouragement.

Optimism? It probably will ruin him.

Is it braver to face up to your own shortcomings, or is it more courageous to believe you have none? Is it better to tell yourself "the glass is half empty." or "the glass is half full." when your country is in a water-crisis? Is it better to take for granted your happiness and believe things aren't as bad as they appear to be, or is it better to acknowledge your failure and move on when things are hopeless?

When you have contracted gangrene on your foot, do you say, "it has a small chance of being cured. Let us try it." or do you make the decision to amputate instead?

Is there a ready answer? Well, of course not. The most ideal answer would be, of course, that there should be a balance of optimism and pessimism. Like in the theory of "Yin and Yang" and "Order and Chaos" and "Good and Bad Karma" and "Your foot and mine", it is total bullshit. Tell me, what do you think the effect of my balanced optimism and pessimism will be on my diet? An "absolutely infalliable and doomed to failure diet"?

Can there be compromise at all?

Well, I shall leave you to ponder these questions on your own. Is pessimism good? Or is optimism better? I have too many things to do tonight, like planning my "absolutely infalliable and doomed to failure" diet.

Power to me

2006-05-29T00:11:00.000+08:00

Power to Me

I don't know what's come over me. I've been feeling so down lately. You know, all those "I'm worth nothing", "I'm being irritating to others again...", "Why can't I do anything right?", "Everyone hates me.", "I'm useless.", "I'm a nuisance that needs to be squashed like a bug.." kind of thoughts. Well, I guess I've been feeling like that because all those are true...

But that's not the point. One can't go through life feeling like a miserable wreck, even if one IS, in fact, a miserable wreck. Because to do so would be to not live at all; to do so would be to deny the gift that one's parents gave freely and willingly; to do so would be to deny oneself totally and absolutely. There exists more strength in willing to face one's weakness than in denying its existance.

Oh, heavens above, if there is any benign power, strike me down now! Look at the hypocrisy I've just displayed in my previous paragraph! And the arrogance in this paragraph. I deserve to die, my life should be called forfeit... But I'm still alive, so I'll make the most out of it.

That's right, I'm going to live my life again. Right now, I don't know exactly what it will be. Maybe it has already reappeared. I've rediscovered my love for writing and MUDding, and my addiction for video games is wearing off. Maybe I'll stop pursuing that Diablo 2 download that never works, and start devoting my time to completing the series I've started but never continued.

Or maybe the key to unlocking this darkness within me is in work. Perhaps I should find work, or maybe just throw myself headfirst into catching up on schoolwork. God knows I need to. Have you ever felt the satisfaction of working your ass out and then slumping into bed, totally drained but having acheived a million and one things? Yes, maybe I'll aim for that. Judging from my laziness, that day is still a long way away, but well, you know what they say, "A huge step a day helps significantly. A small step a day helps insignificantly. Not stepping at all destroys all chance of success." I may not be able to take huge steps, but perhaps with that tiny step, I'll reach my goal some day.

Maybe it'll come too late to save me, but what the hell, it is still better than not stepping at all.

Haha, its so easy to feel motivated and inspirational when you're presented with only 2 possible choices: a morbid one, and an even morbid-der second.

Indeed I'm going to work harder than ever now, or perhaps play harder than ever now. Either way, I'm going to stop moping around, or at least, I hope to reduce moping around. And perhaps, just maybe, with luck and blessings, the next time you see Vincent Wong, he will no longer be an irritating bastard, but one who knows his own worth at last, and shows it.

Now, back to the Anime I've been waiting to load on YouTube...

its all illusions

2006-05-15T19:04:00.000+08:00

Its all Illusions

Do you believe in religion? Do you believe in a God?

That is what I asked Mark in GP some time ago, and before he could answer, I'd done the answering for him (I believe this is called "rhetoric", though in this case it isn't true rhetoric) by telling him, "Its all Illusions".

Yes, that is what I believe; that religion, that god, that divine beings, are all illusions, illusions of the human mind, illusions of our perceptions, illusions of our beliefs.

Oh no, now there are some people who are coming after me with machetes and the hangman's rope. Calm down. I am not saying that your God isn't real. To you, He (or She) is, and I'm perfectly amenable to that. I'm only saying that He (or She) is merely an illusion.

In fact, it doesn't stop at religions. Illusions are all around us, almost like how propaganda is all around us, almost like how oxygen is all around us. Illusions are all around us, they are a part of our lives. That essay you handed up last Monday? It was an illusion. An illusion of an essay. It wasn't real, it was just an illusion. Those hateful feelings you had towards that honour-roll guy? Yeah, its an illusion.

You didn't really hand up work, and you don't really hate that guy. Its all illusions.

I'm not really making sense here, am I? Well, that's the point, I'm not. Its all illusions.

Haha, enough beating around the bush. Time to get to the point of this pointless post: (Illusions, remember?)

I am of the opinion that human beings all live in a world of their own making. Despite the "globalisation" that has so many people making a fuss out of, every single human being really lives only in his or her own fantasy world. Everything that happens is his or her own making, of her own imagination. The key to understanding all these is this: Human perception. Everything about us is perceived in a different way by different people at different times. A leaf is hanging on a branch of a bush on the sidewalk, yielding to the small breeze, gently swaying. The first person to come over might, perhaps, look at it and smile, thinking how beautiful it was.

Hours later, in the golden rays of sunset, another person walking by it might believe it the ugliest thing in the world. It is still the same leaf, with no change in the time between. How can it be so different? Because of human perception, everything around us is different, depending on the imaginary world the said person lives in.

Perception is but one facet of the crystal of Illusions.

I think, deep down, we all know we're all just deceiving ourselves. Everything we see, everything we touch, everything we come across, process, or even ignore, everything is painted and coloured in the shades of our imagination, everything is an illusion, an illusion of our own making for ourselves. Differing perceptions is but one genre of these illusions. Another genre, which I've already touched on, is religion.

Have you ever wondered why there are so many different pantheons? So many different pantheons, yet so many parellels; so many different idealogies, all that says only their own is true? More importantly than logic, have you ever wondered why people can have such unerring, unwavering faith in their religion? Have you ever wondered at those who would rather fall on their knees and pray than do something practical about a problem? Why, the answer is obvious, isn't it? Because if you pray hard enough, and are strong in your faith, your God will help you, in small ways, in small gestures, subtly perhaps, immediately perhaps; whatever the result, there will be a result.

People's faith in their religions is deeply rooted within them, a personal, private, sacred bond of human to God. These 'true believers' would look at other religions, and be firm in their belief that those other religions are the pagan beliefs. They would have absolute and total conviction and confidence in their own faith.

Yet the anomaly remains, that there are such people in almost all the different religions.

I don't believe in miracles, neither do I believe in the existence of a divine being. I am a free thinker, and as some religions would say, a "faithless bastard". What do I believe in? No, I don't believe in myself. I believe in my imagination. I know, and have absolute confidence, that the illusions my mind spins will save me from whatever trouble I get into. And my "faith" is no less stronger, and no less potent, than any other faith or following on the face of this planet. Neither is it any stronger, or any more potent. My faith is on exactly equal terms as anybody elses' because it is all the same thing: Its all Illusions.

I'll give another example, from personal experience. I once knew this guy. At first look, he was all cutesy-poo and childish and nervous, at an age when he should have been graceful, strong, brave. (At least, that's how I envisioned myself being, and since we were the same age, I applied the same label to him) I took an immediate dislike to him. Everything about him was wrong. Everything about him was hateful and disgusting. From that high pitched laugh at a classmate's joke (boot-licker!!!!) to that nonsensical answer to the teacher's question. (act-cute!!!!!!)

I couldn't bear to speak with him. I smiled my thinly disguised grimaces, I gave him bored, stay-away-from-me looks, I acted cool, I acted above him, I acted like I was better, and to me, I indeed was better. But then, one day, I looked at how I was acting, and how everyone else could actually talk with him. I wondered about it. I decided to change my perceptions, or at least try to. I dropped my walls, and I talked to him, reining back my feelings about him as much as I could.

We're now both fast friends, and if not the best, at least we appreciate the small acts of kindness towards one another. Where once I saw only how he tried to prove himself (in childish manners) a worthy friend, now I saw his effort, his initiative, his fears of being left behind; fears all of us have. Where I once only saw his disgusting yearning to become friends, I now also saw the camaraderie that had formed, the informal you-help-me-i-help-you relationship we had. Where once I could barely talk to him about anything, dismissing all of his ideas, I am now able to see how his arguments could be correct, and we had more areas of discussion than we used to have. (Its kind of hard to have any less..)

In short, we went from ostracisation (me doing the ostracising) to friends, if not exactly close buddies. What happened to those "unbearable" and "disgusting" traits I couldn't stand? Did it all fly away and disappear like so much of smoke? Well, no; they were still there, but I can stand them now, that's all. How come it changed? Well, when I hated him, I blinded myself to his good points, and created an illusion of this skulking, smelly, detestable, insufferable creature. And now, I'm far more willing to close my eyes to those small pockets of rot that are still there, but only overshadowed by the good points I can see in him. Nothing in him truly changed, only my perception of him changed. My attitude of him changed. My feelings toward him changed.

My illusion of him changed.

Is Final Fantasy VII really that good a game? Well, it has its pros and cons, and fans are far more willing to believe the pros outweigh the cons, and the critics are far more willing to believe the cons outweigh the pros. Different people formed different illusions about the game, discarding some traits, making up others, in the end crafting an image as warped from the original as a plastacine under the hammer would become.

Objectivity is but an illusion. Humans can never be truly objective, not even to a limited degree, because everything we see is already an illusion we created. Logic? There is no logic, because we are making our so called "logical" conclusions from observations that are already illusory in nature.

Don't fret, though, we're not living in the Matrix. There is no Redpill or Bluepill or Purple or Yellow or Green or Gold pill. Truth is an illusion, but it exists all the same. The essay you passed up last monday is an illusion, but it still exists all the same. My love for my mother is an illusion, but it still exists nonetheless. We can never break free of this prison of our own making except in death, when the source of all these illusions break down: our brains. Our brains is the thing that creates these illusions, and only when it dies, when we die, will the illusions stop, and the perceptions stop, and the logic stop. There is no logic, no love, no perception in death. Death is just death. As the anti-thesis of life, it cannot be anymore final. There is nothing in death; not even illusions.

And of course, most of you already know what I'm about to say as my parting phrase. You can just imagine it already, can't you? Me, with a wry grin on my face, a twinkle of anticipation at your exasperation to come, with a wave, declaiming:

"Death is an Illusion."

Apathy

2006-04-19T20:59:00.000+08:00

Virtue or Sin: Apathy

"Do you know that drinking green tea will lower your sperm count?"

I stared at Melissa, right hand gripping the Pokka Green Tea bottle, left hand on the canteen table, sitting in a poser-ish fashion. Then I slowly raised the bottle to my lips and continued to drink.

"I'm very concerned."

I continued to stare at her, then I lowered the bottle and arched my right brow.

Apathy. Is it a virtue, or a sin? Before we begin, I would like to apologise to anyone who thought that, because of the previous post, I'd only be posting once a month. I'll say here, now, that my "period" where I menstruate my troubles will be as and when I like. I'm not a girl, so I have no "monthly" restriction.

ap·a·thy (p-th)n.

1) Lack of interest or concern, especially regarding matters of general importance or appeal; indifference.
2) Lack of emotion or feeling; impassiveness.

Thanks, again, dictionary.com. So, now that we know what's apathy, we must next ask ourselves, why. Why does apathy exist? Perhaps, if we can puzzle out the reason for apathy, we can make a judgement on whether being apathetic is a sin or a show of virtue.

However, there is no free lunch in this world. So, as you can imagine, our task isn't quite as easy as I have said. The reasons people are apathetic to the world around themselves in general is diverse. It runs the gamut from "Being apathetic is COOL man!" to "I... don't care."

So, how can we qualify "Apathy", if we cannot even have a standard of reasons why it exists in the first place? In this case, we simply have to speculate.

Now, I think people are apathetic for several reasons. A lack of interest because, in general, the said subject doesn't concern the person at all. So this guy who you knew for ten years and is amongst your best friends is going to jump from the top of that building. An average person will start weeping and begging and saying "OMFG, you're KIDDING, right?"

An apathetic person will probably shrug and say, "I... don't care." The reason because the death of the said person, friend though he might be, will not have a direct impact on the life of our subject. If your friend dies, what will impact on you? You'll grieve, you'll feel sad, you'll cry, you'll also, after a period of time, get on with your life. An apathetic person sees all these, and goes straight to the end point. He gets on with his life. It doesn't have a direct impact on him, so he doesn't care.

A lack of interest because there is no real impact on the person. A good reason to be apathetic? Perhaps.

What about those people who are apathetic to himself even? This maniac comes over and slashes the apathetic guy. He stares at the wound, takes a tissue, applies direct pressure, and goes on with whatever he's doing. Why? If it were you, you'll probably go like, "OMFG, I've been GODDAMNED SLASHED!!! ARRGH!~!" Well, perhaps the apathetic guy realises, at some deep, subconscious level, that there is NOTHING he can do about it. So, he's been slashed. Its a manic. Can the slash be un-made? Can the maniac disappear into thin air? Even if all that were possible... could the person who make all those miracles happen be the slashed-apathetic guy? Why, of course not. He's no mage. How can he un-slash a cut, how can he un-ravel the madness in the maniac?

Since he can do nothing... is there any reason to be concerned with the situation?

A lack of interest because there's nothing to do about it. A good reason to be apathetic? Perhaps.

So, what about our more contemporary apathetic people? What's the reason Bob doesn't give a shit if Jeeva would die the next day? What's the reason Jeeva won't give a shit if Bob doesn't take his re-retest? What's the reason why Swee Wei won't care if I kicked myself in the ass?

What's the reason I always look so sian on CCA duties?

"Why are you always so sian?"

I stared at Sebastian with a deadpan look. I can visualize myself, eyes half-lidded, face stony, a hint of a grimace. I shrugged, "am I?"

Why why why?

Perhaps its because I have no one in the same class as me in the CCA. Perhaps so. Afterall, since Xin Hui is in redcross, and only during rc meetings am I less apathetic, that theory has some hard proof. Furthermore, other examples prove me right. I look at Shu Ting playing her guzheng, her class mate a couple of seats away; I look at Ying Hui, passing netballs, her class mate as her partner; I look at Swee Wei, mulling over council stuff with Nadz; I look at Bob and Yuan Long, walking to the Drama Club room to paint; I look at Faith and Sylvia, laughing and joking. And then I look at myself. Entering LT 4 all alone, greeting my colleagues with a wan smile, colleagues that are all in the science stream. I look at myself, walking into room 4-33, smiling reservedly, arching brows, acting dao.

Is it really all because I have no one in my class in the same CCA as me?

No, actually, if you think about it, no. That's not the reason for my apathy. Eunice doesn't have a classmate in Red Cross. Yvonne doesn't have a classmate in Red Cross. Hui Ming doesn't have a classmate in D&J. Jia Sheng doesn't have a classmate in AVA. Ying Hui doesn't have a classmate in Red Cross. Chun Zheng doesn't have a classmate in Council. Yi Cheng doesn't have classmates in Red Cross. Besides which, Xin Hui and I hardly talk during Red Cross, if ever, only to irritate her. And yet, at the same time, they are all so empathetic to everyone else during CCAs. So no, being the only one in my class in the CCA is not the reason for my apathy.

So, if it isn't other people's fault, then perhaps its my own fault? Yes, that's probably it. I mean, if others can go through CCA without classmates beside them every step of the way and still be happy and all, its probably my own fault I can't, isn't it? No matter the reason, whether be it I didn't try hard enough, or my best efforts were pathetic, its still my fault, no?

Well, I could say that, but wouldn't it be alittle too harsh on myself? Wouldn't it be alittle irrational to blame myself and only myself for everything? On the other-hand, isn't blame-assigning, even to oneself, an undesirable action? Afterall, if I went around assigning blame for everything that happens to myself, I'll probably be the one jumping off that building for the sheer weight of the guilt.

Also, its alittle cowardly. I mean, its not easy to say that oneself is the one at fault, but its still easier than facing up to the truth. I mean, its so much easier to say, "OMG, that guy stumbled as he ran by me. ITS ALL MY FAULT. I SHOULD DIE!" and then take out a couple of cutters and slash my wrists. End of story. So easy, isn't it? It certainly is easier than searching for the truth. Why, the "search for truth" by its very nature, is an excercise in futility. By the fact that "Truth" is perceived, and therefore not "True" at all, any "search for truth" will be doomed to failure. It'll be so much easier to end everything with a simple, "Its all my fault."

So then, what is the reason for my apathy? I have come so far, yet not come up with an answer. Another possibility occurs to me. Perhaps, for me, its a defense mechanism? For Lear, he sought refuge in madness rather than face his own tragic flaw, and perhaps, for me, its my only way, my naive way, of hiding from the realities of this world.

"I'm changing"

I stared at the computer screen, my fingers frozen for a moment. Inside me, I am laughing. "Shannen! You baka. Everyone changes. Stop being so naive and grow up!" Inside me, I am sighing. "Its happening again. A self-realized change is one that is not reversible. Shannen is changing."

I continue to read.

"I think I'm no longer as cheerful as before."

I stared at the computer screen. Inside me, I am laughing. "Shannen! How stupid! How naive! Happiness? Whoever gets true happiness in this world? What a laughable joke!" Inside me, I am weeping. "I remember a year ago, when we first met, during one of our first study sessions in Shu Ting's house. I remember that mega-watt, shy smile. Is it gone forever now?"

Which should I choose? The apathetic me? The one that scorns at Shannen's fears of her changing self? Or the me that will weep with her, grieve with her? If I choose the former... where is my sensitivity? Where is my humanity? If I choose the latter... how much more of such changes can I withstand before my nerves break down from the constant barrage of pain and grief?

I searched the web for a suitable poem. I browsed the shops for a suitable present. 2 weeks I devoted into this task. 2 weeks to the culmination of over a year's silence. When the time came, when I slipped the CD with the poem within into her bag, and with the reply a flat no, what should I do? Should I shrug it off? Where would my sincerity be? Should I cry and cry, for the loss of a love I never owned? Now, years later, the same has happened in a different mask, in a different way. What shall my response be again?

How shall I shield myself from the harsh realities of this world? By drowning in beer and alcohol? By finding distractions forever? Or by being apathetic?

Apathy. Is it really a sin?

"What shall poor Cordelia speak? Love, and be silent.."

Silence is Golden

2006-04-16T22:23:00.000+08:00

Silence is Golden

Its time for my period again. Yes, I'm menstruating. Every month, I come online and menstruate all my fucking woes in this blog. Yar, I'm unhappy.

Oh why? Because I'm addicted to unhappiness. Don't you just love to hate? Don't you just can't get enough of sadness? Don't you just get a high everytime you feel hated? I do. I love being sad. I love hating someone. I love being hated. I fantasize about it. I have wet dreams about it. I like it.

Yeah, I'm one fucked up bastard.

I think I've said the previous line alot of times in my life already.

But you know what?

You know what's even lovelier than feeling sad and fucked up and pissed and downtrodden? Its keeping quiet about it. You just zip up and stew. Stew stew stew. Lovely feeling. You can feel the burning in your chest, it spreads, slowly, like a tumour, a corruption, a gangrene, spreading inexorably, inevitably through your body, rotting everything it touches, warping everything it moves by, destroying everything it makes contact with.

Yes, Silence is Golden.

You know what will make this an "emo" post? By me ending it right now. But noooooooo!

I won't.

Because I'm an egotistical bastard and I must always act as though I'm a professional philosopher and spew out junk by the truckloads in order to look amusing and make readers crack laughs that create tumours in their genitals. I won't make this a simple "emo" post, I'll come up with some cock and bull rationale about why "Silence is Golden" and act as though I've just done humanity a favour and enlightened all the stupid fucking apes dragging knuckles around me.

Gods, I love cliches.

Silence is Golden. Its not literal, of course. Silence (in this case, "silence" refers to "keeping silent".) is a verb, not an object, so to describe it, you cannot use an adjective, you must use an adverb. Golden is an adjective, and thus, is grammatically wrong in this instance. So, if this idiom cannot be interpretated literally, what's the angle to look at it from?

What does it mean when you say, "Silence is Golden"?

Well, "gold" is very precious to humans. It is one of the softest metals on the face of this earth, useless for anything practical. A stout, wooden staff can probably snap a golden sword. Gold is, however, used as an immutable anchor of monetary value. In the past, gold is used AS money. Gold IS the measure of your wealth. Therefore, gold is precious.

So if we say "Silence" is "Golden", we are saying that "Silence" is precious. We are saying it is rare that people are silent, and in those rare times when they are, it is something to be cherished and hoarded. I agree totally. Silence is golden. We have too many people talking in this world. Birds chirp all day long. Can't they shut the fuck up? Dogs bark like there's no tomorrow. Can't they shut the fuck up? Humans yap about everything under the sun. Can't they shut the fuck up?

What's so goddamned interesting about who that girl seduced? What's so fucking amusing about how many guys she can take in at a go? Is it something to be proud of, that a member of the same race of you is a slut, a bitch and whatever insults you want to call her? What's so hellishly important about your problems? Is it so important that other people know you lost your warcraft three cd? Hey, sorry Swee, but its true. You bitch alot.

Well, I bitch alot too. I know. I mean, I bitch about my importance all the time. I mean, so what if I lost the CD-key to my game? Big deal! So what if I have some tips about this new hero on DotA? Big deal. So what if I fell asleep doing econs? Big deal.

You see, humans just cannot shut the fuck up. That's the point I'm trying to make. Therefore, Silence IS rare.

So why is Silence precious? Why should we hoard silence whenever it appears? What is so important, so signficant about this rare commodity?

Well, Silence is an action that has so many repercussions. A person keeping silent can create an effect that is far greater than 10 people screaming, shouting and stomping. Who do you think is more effective in keeping the peace in a class? A teacher who comes in and goes, "SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU USELESS BASTARDS!" Or one that pisses everyone off by sitting with his legs on the table, waiting for the class to quiet?

You'll say the first one. But you mistake my question. When I ask the "effectiveness", I am talking about the "effect", not of 1 hour, not of 2 hours, but of a lifetime.

What is the effect of a teacher screaming at a class to keep quiet? If he has a scary enough voice, they will keep quiet. They might even keep quiet automatically from every other lesson onwards. But that's all. The shouting becomes a large, explosive, but short effect. Immediate, but short.

What about the one that remains silent? The class will not react immediately. When they finally react, they will have lost some time in learning. They might bitch. They might think the teacher a retard. They might grow to hate him. They might gossip. They might become respectful.

Yes, the former can also become hated and gossiped about. But the significance of silence? The significance is that it CAN BE INTERPRETATED IN ANY WAY. The teacher that shouts will expect, and probably receive, the effect of EVERYONE in the class becoming quiet and paying attention. But the teacher that keeps silent can expect anything from an initiative "shh!" to raucous laughter and insults. Everyone will react in a different way to silence, and each of that reaction will spark off yet another set of different reactions, which will go on and on.

With the former, everything is so boring. Everyone shuts up, and everyone hates the teacher, and everyone spreads rumours, and everyone wants to fuck him up...

With the latter, there will be people who will do the above, and there will be people who respect him, and there will be people who learn from him, and there will be people who think he's daft... And each different reaction will touch off another set of different reactions, which will go on and on and on.

Think of it this way.

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You can see how Silence will have a far greater effect, right?

Its ironic, that the action that is the most passive will touch off the most repercussions.

"Use your knowledge like a pocket watch - don't take it out to show off, but give the time when you're asked." - some old guy.

The exact quote is on my NY forums account's signature. Basically, its saying the same thing. Keep quiet, though you're absolutely bursting with knowledge, and only share it when you're asked.

There are so many things that you can do with your voice, with commanding, with confrontations and shouting. But how much more can you do with Silence?

Its a double-edged sword, of course, since the effects of Silence is like rolling a stone off the top of mount everest. It will snowball, and whatever the effects, once started, is unstoppable.

Do you know how I will continue to build my case? I'll tell you: by going to bed. I'm tired, lazy and fucking pissed, so I won't continue. Besides, in this scenario, I will let Silence speak for itself. Afterall, the effects will be something interesting to see.

whoohoo

2006-03-21T12:26:00.000+08:00

Propaganda

Its been a long time eh? Well, I've been busy.

This idea has been floating around my head for quite some time now. I'm sure all of you know about propaganda, how useful it is in turning the minds of every single human on the planet to suit the needs of a few humans. Propaganda, what a big word for such a small, commonplace thing.

I'm sure all of you have heard the stories of how the great tyrranical and autocratic governments, say, the Soviet Union, the Nazi Germany, the Mao China, all use propaganda to create positive public opinion, and thus provide an excuse for whatever the governments are doing. I'm sure you've all seen sample pictures of propaganda, and have all scoffed at how unbelievable shallow it is.

Well, I'm here today to tell you all the propaganda exists in this world not only in the past, corrupt governments, but also in today's world. And not only in governments too, but also in your everyday life. And its more commonplace then you think. Propaganda is used by the schools even!

How horrible, you gasp! How terrible, you say! How... stupid. How can it be? That's impossible, right? No one in this civilized time and age is going to be using propaganda. Its an era of democracy and self-informed thought. Its an age of the power of the people, and the people are not being manipulated! Its just not possible. Isn't it? No, actually, if you think about it, almost every thing you see in the schools you go to are propaganda ploys. Yeah, I'm talking about every school here, not just my own. Every single school in the whole of Singapore, and possibly the world, is a hotbed for propaganda.

Now, I can't just be making pointless accusations like that, can I? I have to substantiate my arguments with proof, or I'll end up behind bars for being a mad man seeding distrust and dissension. Well, let's start the evidence part.

First of all, let us take a look at the most integral part of any school life in Singapore. The morning assembly. From the start to the end, it absolutely stinks of propaganda. Right off the hook you have a parade commander shouting for attention, and comes on the national anthem and the pledge. All symbols of our respect to our nation, which has fed us, nursed us from cradle to now. March on, our nation, be ever strong and proud! I pledge myself to your service, a loyal citizen and more. Blah blah blah. All this is well and good. But don't you think its alittle overkill here? We're proclaiming our service at the age of six. Yes, no nation can be strong without its people. Everyone, a toddler or an old man, must give their all.

But to say the pledge, everyday, it almost feels to me as the nation is half-afraid of losing her citizens.

Well, what do I suggest then, to instill patriotism and nationalism in our youngsters? I suggest nothing. I have no answer. Despite all I've said, I admit and submit, that there is no other way then what is already being done. If we don't do the pledge-taking everyday, then Singapore will, within a few generations, simply cease to exist as a nation.

Let us move on. From the morning assembly to the lessons. Every school day, we enter the classrooms, sit down and listen to the teachers drill into us the way to add 11 to 12. Every school day, we sit there and listen to teachers drill into us that HE goes with IS, and I goes with AM. Everyday we learn over and over that plants need chlorophyll (I apologise for any wrong spellings. Its been too long since I've last touched a science textbook) to perform photosynthesis. We learn new things about the world we live in everyday. We learn how to analyse a problem. We learn problem-solving technics. We learn how to score in exam. Every school day after day, we sit in a grey chair, listening to teachers repeat over and over what we need to know.

And to think that when I was young, I've always wondered if they should replace a teacher with loudspeaker instead. Trains our listening skills too, then I won't fail so badly for listening.

Don't you think so too? Think back on your lesson periods, if you cut short all the joking, all the "class, keep quiet" and all the screaming children, all you get is one person (teacher) saying the things another person (student) is supposed to remember. Kind of similar to posters going "JOIN THE ARMY AND BEAT BACK THE FARKING BRITISH" or "THE TSAR IS GREAT!" or "MAO IS OUR HERO", right? It still doesn't make sense? Well, look at it this way:

Poster says something, you look, you absorb, you accept it.

Teacher says something, you listen, you absorb, you accept it.

Poster wants you to do this, you do it.

Teacher wants you to do this, you do it.

Poster tells you "blah blah", you're supposed to believe it.

Teacher tells you "blah blah", you're supposed to believe it. So you do.

Does it seem slightly similar now? Well, how else are we to learn, if we refuse to believe teachers, if we refuse to follow the teachings? That's the way teaching has been done from since Confuscian times! Classroom classics are established to transfer knowledge! How can you learn if you don't do things this way? Well, yeah, you can't. I admit, fully and wholly, that you have to teach things this way. Experential learning, hands on, teach less learn more... its all propaganda, but yes, that's the way you have to do things.

There just isn't any other way.

Well, let us move on again. Now to lectures. From after secondary level, you get mass lectures, where everyone gathers at a hall-like area with seats, and you all sit down and listen to this teacher drone on and on, explaining how things work, explaining how to do this sum, how to do that sum, explaining theories, illustrating examples... basically a session where everyone sits dumbstruck and just listens to everything that's being drilled in. Nope, no need to ask questions. Tutorials (or lesson periods) will cover up any holes and answer the questions.

Do I need to make comparisms?

You don't accept it. You refuse to believe what I've said is true. Well, afterall, propaganda is the systematic propagation of a doctrine or cause or of information reflecting the views and interests of those advocating such a doctrine or cause. (thanks to dictionary.com) You think that teaching is not equals to propaganda because teaching is the passing on of knowledge, and propaganda is changing the way a person thinks to suit that of the one doing the propaganda. Well, teaching IS changing the way a person thinks to suit that of the one doing the teaching. I'm sure that when you were five years old, you thought that pigs could fly and bears wear red shirts and make friends with piglets and tigers and rabbits and donkeys... I'm sure you've been taught to think otherwise since then.

Yes, you all see it now, don't you? From the start of the school day to the very end, its all a session in propaganda. And the irony is that there really isn't any other way to teach humans about the world. You can't just throw a toddler in the wild and expect him/her to come out spouting E equals MC squared. You have to "teach" to transfer knowledge from one generation to another, and there's no way to teach except through propaganda, simply because the very idea of "teaching" IS propaganda.

Now, so what's the big deal?

There's no big deal, except that propaganda doesn't stop there. Propaganda is also in our every day speech. You know, for the past 15 minutes, you've been reading a propaganda article. You know, everytime a person (anyone, be it your mom or a stranger) smiles at you, it is propaganda. You know, you've been practicing propaganda so well, its become easy for you to just spout propaganda every word you say, and you do.

Yes, propaganda is all around us. It is something humans do very well. It is something humans strive to be very good at. And I will say, we are pretty damned good at it. Why, if we can convince dogs to be our best friends, and chickens to lay eggs for us... we're really damned good at it, aren't we?

Smiles

2006-02-08T20:43:00.000+08:00

Smiles

Smiles, a facial expression we are all familiar with. Don't deny it, even YOU, perhaps the most gloomy, despondent and down-trodden person on the face of this earth, has smiled, more than once, today. (Note: evil grins as you contemplate your latest plot to take over the world don't count.) Just exactly what is appealing about it, though? I take a look at group photos, individual photos, comercials, dramas, advertisements, newspaper reports and, of course, comedies... and I cannot see how the smiles in every single picture in those genres are attractive.

Let me describe a smile to you.

A horizontal cresent moon, limned by a (fat or thin) border of live, pulsating red. Within, white (sometimes yellow) blocks of trapeziums align (or disalign, as case may be) themselves in a neat row (or rows), and sometimes, if a smile is especially sexy, you might even catch a glimpse of the fresh, tender gums situated just above the fatal, scissor-sharp teeth.

You done puking?

Just what the hell is so attractive about a smile, you tell me. Why in the seven levels of heaven do people describe grins and smiles as "contagious"? I mean, the only thing I will contract if someone smiles at me like that will be a very bad cause of lung haemorrhage. (Translation: throwing up blood)

Well, the foibles of humanity aside, I think Singaporeans are the absolute best humans ever. No offense to members of any other nationality. Its true. I've witnessed it firsthand. Singaporeans are the only bunch of people smart enough to know that smiles are so god-damned disgusting. I was on my way to a meeting, squeezing myself amongst singaporeans in a metal cubicle three times as long as it is wide, moving 230 km/h. Yeah, the MRT. I was alone, and so, I assumed my usual 'vincent-is-alone-amongst-strangers-facial-expression' which usually tells you non-verbally that if you so much as come within sniffing distance of me, you'll wake up in the hospital three weeks later, mummified.

Being the stupid bastard that I am, I stared and glared around impressively, my chest jutted out at a very immodest angle, and if I had the ability, I'm sure I'd have stamped on the ground, hammered my nipples and roared while dragging my knuckles on the floor as I walked. And then, as I took a closer look to the other primates standing and sitting around me, I realised something I never realised in my 18 years of existence. (okay, only 17, but you can't blame a guy for trying, right?)

NONE OF THEM WERE SMILING AND ALL HAD (to some degree) THE VERY SAME FACIAL EXPRESSION AS I HAD ON AT THE TIME.

I suddenly regreted not reading the newspaper that morning, for if the government had annouced a ban on smiling, I'd have thrown a tantrum, cried alittle and went on with my life as per normal. But then, on the train, as I thought back my life, I realised, on all occasions while in a public area, I have never seen anyone smile unless that person was insane, or had a human he/she (obviously) knew beside them. And as I thought furthur back, I realised that I myself never smiled in the presence of strangers, except to graciously decline that offer to pick my pocket for donations for me. Those who know me would know that my 'Graciously' means being barely short of sticking my middle finger up his nose. But I digress.

My point is that I've never truly smiled a 'smiling smile' for the sake of strangers, unless I was going to make an effort to be friends. And my mindset is, seemingly, subconsciously reflected by Singaporeans all over. I've never seen a total, absolute stranger look me in the eye, tilt his head to the left forty degrees and just, smile. *twinkle*

So I decided to give it a try. I forced my facial muscles to my best, "Have a nice day" smile. I had lots of practice with that during my short part-timer stunt during my first three months. I kept that smile on my face and reduced my chest to a much flatter state. I looked about, tilting my head 40 degrees to the right and left alternatively, grinning and trying to catch someone's eyes.

The only one person whose eyes I caught sort of moved away in a hurry.

I went home and smiled in the mirror, and that's when I came up with the description of smiles from the above. Of course, not to worry, my teeth are straight (not gay) and aren't yellow. Well, I use Darling's tooth-paste, so my caffein addiction side-effects are somewhat slowed. And that's how I came to the conclusion that Singaporeans are smart.

Now, I leave you with a disturbing question:

Ever wondered how you look like when you laugh at your best friend's joke?
(And now that you've read this post... do you wonder whether he/she's laughing with you, or AT you?)

No more Character Extravaganza this issue. I've got another pile of homework demanding my attention, with a smile, no less.

Crappy post

2006-01-15T10:58:00.000+08:00

Mind your own business

MYOB. That's the Singaporean attitude. At ages as early as 6, Singaporeans are exposed to insensitive remarks of "MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS YOU BUSYBODY!" I can testify, since I was on the receiving end (and giving as good as I got) of that line many a time from since the earilest times I can remember. Its given me such an impression that I've cultivated a truly "mind my own business" attitude in almost everything I do. I say "almost" because I can never be truly true to my own philosophies, and also because I do care about some people.

Now, I find it hard to rouse interest in the sordid affairs of others. I mean, what the hell good is it to know what a person I never exchanged 3 words with did with half the boys/girls in school? Do I gain anything from it? Yeah, sure I do. I gain the shame and disgust at our own 'modern' human society. Do you think people appreciate it when you stick your neb into their problems and stuff? Hey, that girl I've never met is crying so broken-heartedly. Should I, a complete stranger who means nothing to her, ask her what the hell is distressing her so she can repeat all the reasons that are causing her misery and despair to a fat ugly guy she's never met but has nothing better to do?

I'm insensitive? I should go up to her and comfort her? Give her support when no one else has, as a fellow human being, as someone concerned about her well-being even though we're strangers? People, you're mixing ideals. There's a marked, distinct difference between being a busybody and being a concerned samaritan.

Do you know what's a samaritan?

n. A person who is considerate and offers sympathy to those in need.

Do you know what's a busybody?

n. A person who is interested in the state of affairs and wants to know more about what doesn't concern him.

Yeah, quite alot of newspaper readers fall under the second category.

Where do you draw the line? When is being concerned crossing over to become 'busybody'? You can't be concerned for someone when you also want to know what's going on. You just can't. Its a contradiction of ideals. Polar opposites coming together. When you're walking to the girl, asking, "What's going on? Why are you crying?" That's being a busybody. She didn't ask for your help for heaven's sake. GET THE HELL OUT OF HER SIGHT!!

Its when you see someone crying, and you just walk over, and offer her whatever aid you have, without wanting to know anything about what's happening, does it become concern. Yes, I've just condemned about every single act of 'concern' you've showed your fellow humans since the day you were born. You cannot show concern and interest in a state of affairs at the same time. To be a true social helper, you need to give everything you have, including your trust, in the person you're offering aid to. Sadly, such things no longer happen.

Social workers want to know every single detail about you and your private life, in order to see whether you need help or not. Why? Its not because they are blood-thirsty sharks waiting to bite of your leg for every misdeed you've ever done. They need to know the details to be able to give the appropriate amount of aid. But ask yourself this: Why is it that charitable organisations need to be sure of the 'appropriate' amount of aid to be given to those that ask for it? Because there are people who would take advantage and ask for more than they deserve.

Isn't it pathetic? That organisations who want to help are unwilling to do so without reservations... because they DO have reservations about YOUR integrity. Because they cannot trust you, who are asking for aid. And because of that, they have to compromise on their aid, and instead of giving all they can for your needs, they have to give what they think is 'appropriate'.

But I digress. Back to busybodies. Do you think people who approach the crying girl example I stated and ask "what's happened" are organisations who are afraid the girl will take advantage of them? Of course not. Firstly, they don't have anything to lose, unless the girl is a scheming psychopath who secretly murders those who offers to help her. So if that's the case, why the fuck should people ask what's happening? Does asking help them to help the girl? Do you think the girl needs people to know exactly what's causing her distress so THEY can decide what the girl should do next?

You just got raped. You're crying your heart out. Some guy comes over and asks you what happened in order to help you decide what you should do now. You tell him you got raped. He gives you the doubtful eye. "Really?" Then he relents and says, "you poor thing. Being raped must have been traumatic. Let me help. You should go to the police."

What the fuck? Like you wouldn't know that its traumatic? Like you wouldn't know you should go to the police? Like you wouldn't know its unbelievable? Does telling that guy give you anything you don't already know?

You just got raped. You're crying your heart out. Some guy comes over and sits down, mutely asking you to request any service he can give. He doesn't touch you, doesn't offer fake concern, doesn't offer fake comfort, doesn't offer to 'take the pain away', doesn't offer to know what's going on, just waits until you compose yourself enough to ask him to bring you to the police post because you didn't have the courage to go there yourself.

Now, what about this? He didn't do anything, just be a person whom you can draw aid from if you choose to do so. He doesn't ask anything from you, nor offer you anything you don't need. He trusts you know what's the best for you, which you do, and he trusts you won't take advantage of him, just as he trusts you will trust him.

That's what giving aid is all about: helping people in need. People know what they need, they ask for help. You don't need to know what's happening in order to help. They let you know what you need to know. That's called giving aid.

Anything else becomes an act of busybody. Yeah, again, I've just condemned almost every 'charitable' act you've done since you took your first breath of life.

What about those people who don't dare to ask for aid? Well, let me tell you this. I'm not a religious person, but the statement "God helps those who helps themselves" is one I believe in. Those who don't dare to ask for aid, don't deserve it. Those who dare, but can't, will find a way to ask for it if they need it. Its the way of life. Survival of the fittest. You don't need to stick your nose into anyone's business to save anyone. They poke you and ask for help if they need it.

Nothing like this ever happens, of course. No one ever lives by those rules. People have this weird drive to know all about others for the sake of knowing. Those that give up their privacy, demand aid in return. And it has now evolved into our way of life, replacing the ideal system of give-when-they-ask. Charitable organisations look into every nook and cranny to find people living in the worst pits of living hell to know all about them so they can help. People who normally wouldn't have been helped are thus saved from their lives of poverty.

Busybodiness has become a human trait.

I don't live by my philosophy, let me tell you that. Despite everything I've said, I too have the drive to know about others sequestered deep within my secret desires. I want to know every secret, sordid detail if possible. I don't do it openly, and I consciously prevent that side of me from surfacing. But it exists. I can no more give aid for no reason than I can pee through my mouth. I will want to know what's happening. Once or twice, maybe, I prevent myself from asking. Once or twice, maybe, I close my eyes to the suffering of those I don't know.

But most of the time, I fail to mind my own business.

The point of all this? To point out to you just how incharitable humans really are. We don't give aid for the sake of helping. We are just busybodies who can't mind our own businesses. We even help those who don't deserve to be helped just to know abit more about the depravity of humankind. We're that bad.

You don't agree. Of course you don't. No one ever does. Who wants to admit that they are the worst creatures that ever walked the earth? But if you can, pick up a tabloid newspaper, and re-read this post. Then imagine you are the evil creature I spoke of, and that you really want to know all about how disgusting human beings are. Read through that tabloid with that mindset: I can garuntee you'll feel like you had an hour of sex after you're done.

Yes, I'm a disgusting bastard. But then, which human isn't?

~~

DISCLAIMER: Because I'm using references to real places on Earth in my following fictional character-biography sheet, I hereby disclaim that all information below is purely fictional and any similarity to any human being is purely coincidental. Also, I disclaim that I have no racist feelings towards any of the mentioned nationalities or any other nationality not listed in there, implied or otherwise. This is purely a work of fiction.

Carácter Extravagancia

Issue 4

Name: Eindrew da Leislie
Age: 14
Gender: Male
Race: Human

Eindrew is a young man of french descent. He lives in the United States and is a citizen there, however. To all outward appearance, Eindrew is kind, caring, and an active member of society and of the community despite his young age. Tall, blonde and with angular, chiselled features, Eindrew is popular amongst the young and old of his neighbourhood alike. During his free time, he volunteers at various orphanages and old folks' homes.

In school, he is the secretary/treasurer of a student-run volunteer-cum-counselling group that helps other students with personal problems. Despite having joined the school only last year, he already holds numerous leadership positions, and appears to be set to take over the head of the student leadership body by next year.

However, a number of disturbing events have recently brought him to our attention. Alzhemier's is a rising problem in the old folks' homes in his community recently. From since a few years back, coinciding with when Eindrew first started to help out at the local homes, new cases of Alzhemier's have been steadily increasing at a startling and dangerous rate. Despite doctors' best efforts, this trend is still on the rise.

Several students have also dropped out of school, citing psychological reasons. As far as our spies are able to discover, these students appear to have lost all interest in studies. Through our trackers, we've determined that a high number of these students have received counselling from Eindrew himself. Local orphanages have yet to show signs of being affected, but we expect complaints and incidents to happen soon.

To our sources, Eindrew appears to be the cause of all these, or at least, be at the middle of all these incidents. The Council will not rule out outside interference through the boy, but are taking prepatory steps to detain this boy if events spiral out of control. The Council is still investigating these maladies and their connection to the 'aid' Eindrew has been giving. Many experts believe that Eindrew has a heretofore undiscovered ability to feed on the mental energies of humans who confide in him, and it appears that such an activity is having negative effects on Eindrew's 'victims'.

The Council is withholding furthur action. The supernatural community is split over whether Eindrew is a malicious young man who does this for fun or spite, or whether Eindrew's abilities are beyond his control; if they are, indeed, his abilities. One interesting note is that those whom Eindrew has counselled are far more happy with their lives now than ever; though this contentment is causing their sudden lack of drive to improve.

~End of dosier~

A Dream

2005-12-14T07:55:00.000+08:00

A Dream...

Yume...

Yume o miteiru...

Mainichi miru... yume...

Owari no nai... yume...

Yume ni owari ga na kuna ta hiwa.. itsudatto darou? Zutto zutto no kashi? Soredemo, honno suru mai? Sonno go daisai wo... lies within for how long I'd wished it to last...

((Sorry about the broken romaji, I still don't really grasp the phonetics of the japanese language.)

Dream....

I'm looking at a dream...

A dream I see... everyday...

A dream... that never ends...

The day the dream never ended... when was it? A long time ago? Or, only a few minutes ago? The answer... lies within for how long I'd wished it to last...

Why do I have this dream over and over? Why am I even dreaming about this. Why do I dream? I wish I could tackle this the way I usually do... but I cannot. Because, how do you tackle a dream? A dream is no physical force, to be resisted. A dream is no physical body, to be grappled. It is not even intelligent, to be outwitted. It is not even spiritual, to be dispelled. To the contrary of the soothsayers and psychics who claim the realm of dreams to be the domain of future Sight, to the contrary to priests and bishops who claim the realm of dreams to be the domain of prophets and the one true God...

No one can lay claim to the realm of the dreams. The Aran'Rhiod, as the Wheel of Time names it. That is because dreams are nothing but a reflection of one's being. A reflection of one's fears, of one's happiness, of one's wants, of one's hates, of one's sight, hearing, touch, of one's belief, of one's experiences, of one's needs, of one's love. In the realm of dreams, everything that has been proven wrong can be right. There, you can love as you want, there you can kiss as you want, there, you can drink, eat, sleep as you want. There, you can punch, kick, kill as you want.

There, that which you hate can chase you forever. There, that which you fear can haunt you forever. There, that which you desire can merge with that which you despise. There, people who have gone out of your life can linger. There, people you have triumphed over can return. There, your strength of mind can be a weapon... yet it can also be your greatest weakness. You fight not the ghosts of the past, or shadows of the future. You fight the present in the Aran'Rhiod. You fight yourself.

How many people are trapped in that world? A world where they neither advance into the future, nor retreat into the past? A world where they are trapped in the present, fighting forever, without any hope of reprieve, the present, the sense of self? How many people wish to be trapped in there, to escape the futility of the future, to blind themselves to the horrors of the past? How many people think they are trapped in there, wallowing in self-regret and bogged down by perceived failures?

What is your dream?

Mine? Mine is to be a writer, perhaps. Mine is to make a family, perhaps. Mine is to escape the dream, perhaps.

My dream... boku yume... is a funny one.

Wariwanai? Honto wariwanai?

Since you've promised not to laugh, I'll tell you what my dream is.

---
Carácter Extravagancia

Issue 3

Name: Junia Hallowild
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Race: Human

Junia is, to all appearances and purposes, a 23 year-old undergraduate pursuing the social sciences and philosophy. A subject not many would contemplate, yet seemingly easy for this tall, lean adolescent. His eyes are piercing sharp and totally emotionless, and to this date, no Council investigator can approach him without him noticing, or feeling uneasy when those eyes fall on them. The reason why his name appears on this dosier is that he possess more sinister qualities than just simply a piercing regard and unfriendly stature.

For years, Junia, an orphan, had been described as "unsociable" and "cold" by peers and associates. Three years ago, his attitude changed, but not for the better. Where he was merely unresponsive before, he was now hostile. Students who interrupted him have reported having mysterious and disturbing dreams, even during waking hours. They would sometimes even "phase out" while walking, gripped by some terrible nightmare that lasted from three seconds to up till 5 minutes. Road accidents have occured. These incidents are thus becoming largely alarming to the Council, for if anyone draws connection between Young Junia to these disturbing events, it could mean trouble for the supernatural community.

However, there is no concrete proof even by the Council that Junia is responsible for these incidents. It is obvious he is connected, but there is no proof. Part of the problem is that this affects an area which even the Council holds no jurisdiction over. To this date, no researcher has ever decoded the secrets of the Aran'Rhiod, the Realm of Dreams. Yet this Junia appears to be able to manipulate and even maliciously twist it for others with impunity. If he does, indeed, have control over the Aran'Rhiod, then the Council would be able to solve the problems of dream-comas that has been plaguing it from since the dark ages. Yet, Junia seems determinedly hostile to anyone and everyone. So far, no one of the supernatural has been afflicted with his dreams, nor have any Council investigators, but no one knows whether it is because we have some inborn resilence or simply because we did not irritate him enough.

No council investigator has volunteered to try to test the second option.

2005-11-28T23:01:00.000+08:00

Kanashimi da daijoubu da ne?

Is having sadness alright?

Is it alright to be sad?

Is sadness good?

Well, to answer something like that, you'll first have to ask, "What's sadness to you?"

What's sadness to you? Its an emotion, yes, I know that. Its the opposite of happy, yes I know that too. Being happy is what humans pursue, is what we all want, is what we all aim for. That's true, isn't it? We're working so hard now, so that we can be happy. We're slogging our hearts out for the A levels (though mine isn't for another year) so that we can get good grades, get into university, get a degree, get a good job, and give our family a better life... and be happy. We're rehearsing a performance again and again so that the final performance will be a stunning, awesome success, that everyone is happy and cheering, and that we're all satisfied at the result.

So that we can be happy...

That's what humans are always looking for. Happiness. Where's my happiness? Is it in marrying that girl over there? Is being happy meaning to have alot of money? Must I sacrifice my free time to put in effort for my happiness? Must I work for the happiness of my family?
True. We don't actually do work so that we can have happiness. Its not a direct result. We work so we can get something else, our pay, perhaps. That degree, perhaps. The satisfaction of a good performance, perhaps. And those things, in turn, create happiness for us and those that matters to us. Its still the same though. We're pursing that elusive happiness at the end of the long, dreary road, so we walk the long dreary road. There's that pot of gold over the rainbow, remember? So let's walk on the rainbow!

But how many people truly find happiness at the end? After taking a linoleum knife and carving a hole in our abdomen to drop out guts (literally) at the feet of the goddess of happiness... does happiness just come pouring down like some divine rain? After sacrificing so much, bearing so much hurt, cutting off arms and legs and what not.. are we rewarded with the happiness we want?

Is a man who spent 50 years of his life pursuing a monopoly on the most profitable industry in the world truly happy when he lies on his hospital bed, alone, with nothing but his mountains of money to see him through the gates of hell? What about that guy who, for the sake of his university degree, spurn the love of a friend, and finally got his degree and job... Did he find his true love, his true happiness? What about the guy who chose love over studies, and ended up struggling to make ends meet in a dilapidated hut in the suburbs of town because he did not land a good enough job? Is he really happy with his "true love"?

And at the end. When people have sacrificed what they now see as "a better way to go", and not gotten happiness.. At the end, what are they? They are bitter. Life is unfair. Life sucks. Life is... pointless. And then they take that final step off the roof of the highest building in singapore, and.. bye bye, you fucking world. Bye bye, you god-forsaken land. I hope my blood flowing into your soil, chokes you to death.

And so, people look upon the opposite of happiness, the opposite of what they were pursuing, with horror and disgust. Kanashimi? Urgh, who needs it? Kietsu. That's what I want. What I'm looking for. Oh gods, please please, let my efforts award me with the happiness I want, not that horrible, terrible, sadness!

But is sadness all that bad? Just because its the opposite of joy, of happiness... its bad? Its evil? Its to be scorned?

Is shadow bad? Because it is the absence of light, the opposite of light, its bad, it is evil?
Is evil bad? Because it is the opposite of good, then it must be something absolutely horrible?

Why?

Why is evil there at all, if its so bad? If evil is so evil... then it should not exist at all!

Why is shadow there at all, if its so bad? If shadow is so evil.. then it should not exist at all!

Why is sadness there at all?

Because without sadness, we cannot be human. Without shadow, there cannot be light. Without evil, there is no good. Maybe, after we die, we go to a place without shadows, without evil. Without sadness. Maybe. But before that, before we go, when we're still alive... still human. There will be sadness. There will be.

Is sadness neccesary? Is it "tolerable"?

Is evil "tolerable"?

When someone close to you passes away, you feel empty. You feel as though someone took an ice cream scooper and dug out a piece of your heart. You feel sad. You deny it. You refuse to believe that whoever it is, is gone. Because by accepting it, you admit to the sadness. You are giving in. You're letting sadness win. You're not pursuing the happiness of that close one's continued existence anymore. You're admitting the sadness of losing your loved one. And you don't want that.

But we cannot be human without sadness, without tragic events. The world will be horrible without sadness. Oh come on. In the fairy tales, you are told about lands where no one is ever sad, and everyone is always happy. And the protagonist goes there, has a good day, and comes back all bubbly and happy and "I wanna go there again someday!"

But just imagine an existence that is always happy. Without sadness, with everyone happy, laughing laughing and laughing, not one sad face. You can't stop giggling or laughing because you're so damn happy.

Ahh, blissful.

Yeah, so blissful. Now, stay in that world for a year, and come talk to me if you're not foaming at the mouth and clawing at your rubber walls, that's if they ran out of strait-jackets.

Sadness is a part of life, just like shadow is a part of life, just like evil is a part of life. Its not "tolerable". It just is. It is what defines us as human. I'm not saying you should let rapists go unpunished. That its "alright" to take a hatchet and hack your parents to mushy, bloody pieces. Or that you should dance a tango on your cousin's coffin.

Its not nice to rape people. Its not nice to murder people. Its not nice to lose a loved one. But it happens. It may happen to you. If it does, you have a choice. Drown in self-pity and depression, or jump up and dance like a maniac. Or, accept it and move on.

What's your choice?

How will you let your future unfold?

I've just finished watching Kanon, the bishoujo game turned romantic-tragic anime. (As is the case with most bishoujo games turned anime) Its your standard tear-jerking, heart-warming and heart wrenching (like taking a pair of red-hot tweezers and wringing your heart with it), korean style, mushy, goosebumps raising, "aww" going, kawaii-desu storyline. In otherwords, it was, in my dictionary, a total waste of time.

Why did I watch it? Because I had nothing better to do.

But my point is, pointless though the anime was, (pun intended) it taught me a valuable lesson. That its alright to be sad sometimes. Its not nice, of course, to be sad. But its alright. One doesn't need to freak out and go "OMFG, I'm sad!!! ARRGH!" when one's sad. Its a part of life. It happens. You may have been working for happiness' sake. But if your end-result is nothing but sadness... its disappointing, but it is life. Its what defines humans.

I don't know if you can get what I'm saying here. But if you can, if you understand that sadness is not something to avoid, should not be something anethaema, then you're doing fine. And even if you don't understand... well, that's sad, but sadness is a part of life.

Kanashimi..

--

Carácter Extravagancia

Issue 2

Name: Pinochi Are (Ah-rare)
Age: 16
Gender: Female
Race: Human/Spirit

Are is a normal, 16 year old girl. Are is also a 160 year-old Earth-Spirit.

Earth-spirits are ghosts that are rooted to a certain place on earth, without the ability to move forward into heaven, or whatever realm they go to, and unable to leave the area or general vicinity, depending on the ghost's reason for being trapped there. For most, it is generally "unfinished business". In other words, they are "haunts".

Are is special, however, because she is also able to, at certain points in time, create and use a physical body. Not a physical body she possesses (some Earth-spirits can possess passer-bys) but instead, is a physical body of her own. It is unknown how she came to be able to have this power, and all efforts by the Council to investigate has failed. Somehow, she is able to evade the summoning rituals of the Shamans, and can stay hidden to a Druid's powers too. Are seems to switch between her spirit form and physical form on whim.

She hasn't caused any problems so far, and is not expected to. This dosier is only for the sake of her special ability. She always manifests as a sixteen year old girl in a simple, threadbare, sleeveless tunic, belted at the waist by a frayed hemp rope. Her hair is brown, and waist length, untied. In this form, everything about her is undeniably solid, including her clothes.

In an attempt to throw light on her powers, the Council has investigated her past.

Are was the daughter of a farmer-turned samurai in feudal Japan. When her father was forcefully drafted into their feudal lord's army to fight a war, Are was forced to take up the burden of providing for her physically weak mother and 3 siblings, ranging from the age of 5 to 12. Unable to keep the farm going, she sold it, and turned to selling field medicine and herbs. The combined income was enough for them to survive for three years. On her sixteenth birthday, her father returned to find their farm sold, and their funds almost depleted.

In a rage, he threw the young girl out.

We were unable to gather much information about Are at this point, and there was no information whatsoever about Are's personality. But it appears she turned to begging in the commune marketplace to survive. The villagers, once her neighbours, helped to give her alittle each day. At this point in time, it was apparent Are fell in love with a boy her age who was just passing through the village with his parents, on their way to the feudal lord's castle. They promised to meet again at the market place when the boy would be heading back.

Unexpectedly, the feudal lord's enemies launched a suprise attack and razed the entire village, along with the feudal lord's own castle. Are survived the assault, but the boy did not. Unknowingly, the young girl remained waiting at the market place, refusing to leave the ruins, until she eventually starved to death. Since then, she has been earth-bound at that place.

Even though Are's elusive nature has prevented us from getting to know her personality better, it is apparent that she is still devoted to the boy who died. As far as our soures could tell, though, the boy's spirit was never earth-bound. It is unknown how long Are will continue to stay in the shopping mall, and despite everything, we are still stumped at her ability to manifest a physical body. The Council will continue to investigate.

update

2005-11-17T19:14:00.000+08:00

Whining

Sometimes, I get tired of it.

whine ( P ) (hwn, wn)v. whined, whin·ing, whines v. intr.

-To utter a plaintive, high-pitched, protracted sound, as in pain, fear, supplication, or complaint.
-To complain or protest in a childish fashion.
-To produce a sustained noise of relatively high pitch: jet engines whining.

I get very sick and tired of people whining all about me.

"I don't want this!"

"Don't give me that!"

"Its very hot!"

"I don't like to eat that!"

And you know what makes it worse?

The fact that I whine as well.

Yes, that's the thing that's bugging me. Maybe I should just give up, huh? People are whining, "I don't want it done in that manner!" while I'm getting pissed, making a face, and whining about it on my blog. Its like a goddamned cycle. Person A whines. Person B whines that person A whines. Person A whines some more. Person B gets pissed and whines even more.

What is this? Some fucking contest? Oh no, its not a fucking contest, since there's no fucking involved.

Okay, now that all the bad words are off my chest, time to get more civilized.

Technically, I'm not whining right now. To whine is to complain or protest in a childish manner. I'm not protesting. I'm not complaining. I'm bitching. But yes, though "bitching" wasn't included in the formal dictionary definition, I'm sure its the same in terms of complaining or protesting. But here comes the weight that tips the balance: I'm doing it in a suprisingly adult manner. Well, I'm not talking about the vulgarity, since vulgar complaining can be childish as well.

"I don't fucking want my carrots cooked in black sauce! For christ's own private sake! Can you not goddamn COOK IT IN GREEN SAUCE LIKE I WANT IT?!?"

Vulgar, but decidedly childish.

Now, my complaint, however, was logical, stately, formal and, above all, made in a clear mind. I, for one, am aware that, at the very least, I'm also culprit to whining. The vulgarity aside, it was a very civilized and, indeed, adult complaint.

Of course, I am reviewing my own statement, so, inevitably, there will be bound to be biasness. To that end, I have asked a couple of witnesses to give me their view on this article to the moment.

"It's very 'adult', as you'd like to term it. For one, I see no spelling mistakes. Well, bring me my reading glasses, and I'll double check..."
- Andrew, a bear (literally) with metal springs clothed in red cotton for a torso.

"From where Andrew left off, I'd agree whole-heartedly. Hell, I've never seen such a graceful use of the language since... well, since I've died."
-The neighbouring ghost, Keldern, who lived in an era of illiterate pirates (he was one too).

"I'd say that, indeed, you have done a great job of remaining calm and decidedly neutral to your own feelings. I could see that you quite literally examined your own feelings with the emotion of a surgeon about to begin an operation. You cut them up, analysed them, and then stitched them back, all without letting it affect you. And then you wrote that report above with a startling cold-hearted strategy to rope in and convince your audience."
-My nameless imaginary friend.

As you can see, my witnesses, with the possible exception of the last, all are incorruptible people.. and dolls. I thank you for staying with me through that ugly mess up there, which was, I'd agree, decidedly non-readable. If you did not stray off in the middle, or fall asleep, or get so outraged by my blatant use of "fuck" and references to a divine being in the same sentence that you chucked your CPU out the window, then I'd have to thank you for staying with me through my boredom as well. (Yes, all of this is the brainchild of my boredom. Kinda 'mazing how boredom can achieve so much.)

----

Carácter Extravagancia

Issue 1

Name: Thomas "Doll-Master" Thern
Age: 34
Gender: Male
Race: Human

Thomas has never been what you'd call the "smartest guy on the block". In fact, by normal terms, he was downright dumb. Maths, English, Science (any), every academic subject that has more than 5 pages as a textbook is too much for him to handle. The only "witty" thing he ever did in his school years was to punch a bully in the mouth for badmouthing his mother, which he had to think about for a moment before realising it was an insult.

It must be said in Thomas' defence, however, that his brain was not any more lacking than the average joe. He just couldn't be bothered with academics, even to the point that language was neglected. He was suprisingly quick to act, and very agile indeed with his fingers. The moment he could identify with a cause, and had a reason to act, he was always the first to move, the first to action. He was very empathic on, in a quite literal sense of the word, action.

That doesn't mean he was restless or jumpy though. He could be deathly quiet or stealthy when he wished. What it meant was, he would rather be doing something for a reason, even if it was to be absolutely still, than be studying and arguing theoretics. At the age of 18, though, he got into a fight he could not win, and broke both his legs. That quite firmly ended his career as a bodyguard.

Crippled, with a brain not suited for study, and with hands that always itched to be doing something for a reason, he turned to dolls. Not barbie or care-bears. He turned to voodoo, to string dolls, to psychic dolls, anything at all that allowed him to create a physical impact on the world around him outside the confines of his wheelchair.

He played around with the dark, the normal, the paranormal and the supernatural. And, he mastered it.

His dolls became an attachment of himself. He was so nimble with his fingers that, at first, he could use stick-dolls (dolls that had limbs connected to the dollmaster by a thin wooden stick) to catch a falling object, and later, garner enough leverage to throw it. He worked everyday of ten full years, never giving up, and with a passion that would put even the most patriotic man to shame. In time, he refined his technics, until he could do simple acts using the doll, while manipulating it such that it seemed as though the doll was alive. With string-dolls, he could even duplicate the motion of breathing with an even rise and fall of the chest.

When he turned thirty, twelve full years after his legs were broken, the two men who crippled him were discovered dead in their beds, both apparently having tripped and fallen fatally on a doll with too-sharp arms.

Thomas' supernatural bent to his doll-mastery is still a mystery. No one knows how he mastered his "long-range" technics. After a few months of study, the Council has declared that his powers stemmed from a unique branch of Voodoo magic. It was not impossible that he was able to mix other types of magic and/or psychic powers with Voodoo, but there was no subtantial evidence to prove it either way. What cannot be denied, though, is that his powers were derived from a core discipline that mirrored the core disciplines of Voodoo magic, namely that of empowering dead subjects with movement and even sentience over a distance through the alignment of natural magnetism fluxes.

Although the authorities have been unable to trace the deaths of the two men, the Council is keeping a sharp eye on Thomas for the moment, making sure he will not pose a threat to the spell-casting community if he remains at large.

-End of Dosier-

That's it

2005-10-29T10:55:00.000+08:00

That's it, I guess.

Well, that's just it.

The promo exam results are out, and finally things are over and done with. I'm sick of it already anyway. I did better than I thought I would, but mostly that's because I'm both self-effacing and arrogant at the same time.

"Mugger!"

That's what Wei Jian and Bobby always says to, well, muggers. Definition? People who mug for exams.

Obviously, the duo doesn't like muggers.

I look at their definition, and I look at myself, and I draw startling parallels. Not because I'm a mugger. (God knows I _don't_ study.) But because I have the negative traits of a mugger: arrogant, good-for-nothing, complacent, nose-in-the-air, and many others.

Yeah, I'm bitching about myself.

Why do I say I'm a mugger? (Even though I definitely don't mug?) Because a mugger doesn't need to mug to be a mugger. What makes a lion a lion? We usually equate lions to the traits of strength, courage, majesty. But can a timid lion be a lion? Or is it the traits that make the lion a lion? Or is there no such thing as a timid lion?

Is there such a thing as a mugger who doesn't mug?

I say yes. Like the freaks of every society, there are lions without the traits of lions, there are muggers without the traits of muggers, and there are humans without the traits of humans. And going along the same line of thought, there are non-lions with the traits of lions, non-muggers with the traits of muggers, and non-humans with the traits of humans.

Example: A weasel who fights a hopeless battle against a lion to protect its young exhibits courage. But weasels are not known for courage. Weasels are known as, well, weasel-ly creatures who slink about and nibble at where you cannot swat them away. But what do you call a weasel with the courage of a lion?

Example: I do not mug, but I display all the traits of a mugger: namely, being a hypocrite, worrying about results when I should not, faking concern where I know I'm good, thinking I'm good at something, putting on a brave front for the sake of putting it on, telling others I expect bad results, and inwardly reacting badly when the results do turn out to be bad.

Yeah, I'm one fucked up bastard.

Now, going along with my argument, I have proven that there ARE creatures who do not adhere to the image widely expected of them. So, what are these misfits of the society called? Do they still suscribe to the group they belong to, or are they under the jurisdiction of the group whose traits they exhibit? Is a non-mugger who display mugger-traits a mugger or not? Is a weasel who is as courageous as a lion a weasel or a lion?

Are you thirsty?

No? Yes? Does it matter?

Well, chances are: no.

But humans put undue emphasis on labels and discrimination. So well, in line with human traits (I'm only human, afterall.) I shall bring out the huge labels, and make a decision now.

First example: The lionish weasel.

Is the weasel a lion, or a weasel? First, let us examine both weasel and lion traits.

What is a Weasel?

Weasels are mammals in the genus Mustela of the Mustelidae family. Originally, the name "weasel" was applied to one species of the genus, the European form of the Least Weasel(Mustela nivalis). Literary references to weasels usually refer to this species rather than to the genus as a whole.

(Thanks to Wikipedia)

A weasel, in common folklore, is depicted as a creature which slinks about, doing unsavoury things out of sight. When a person first thinks of a "weasel" in fantasy context, the picture comes to mind of a farm in the dark of twilight, and chickens sleeping. A flash of shadow, and then pandemonum. By the time the farmer rouses and rushes to investigate, the weasel would have made off with a chicken, and without tracks.

In modern day context, a weasel has been used as personification for skulduggery. Look at the following example:

"That m'fug, whatever his intelligence, still has all the worst traits of a weasel -- he'd backstab President Bush himself if there was a way it'd advance his own career."

(Taken from an anonymous blog)

And what about Lions?

The Lion (Panthera leo) is a mammal of the family Felidae. The male lion, easily recognized by his mane, may weigh up to 250 kg (550 lb). Lions are predatory carnivores who live in family groups, called prides. Despite its popular moniker of "King of the Jungle", the lion is an animal of the open plains, and can be found on the savannas of much of Sub-Saharan Africa.

(Thanks to Wikipedia)

I need not elaborate much on a lion's perceived traits, I hope. We all know that a lion embodies at least in human culture) courage, strength, majesty and pride. In effect, the direct opposite of a weasel.

Now, can you imagine a weasel as courageous as a lion? Not likely. However, please read the following about a common species of weasel:

The stoat is territorial and relatively intolerant of others in its range, especially others of the same sex. Within its range, it typically uses several dens, often taken from prey species.

(Thanks to Wikipedia)

Can you imagine what will happen if some other animal intrudes upon its lair? As a canivore, (yes, weasels eat other mammals from as small as rodents to the size of rabbits.) weasels are well versed in the art of combat. In the wilds, those who fail to protect their own would no doubt be wiped out. An intrusion would not be taken lightly, and the result, a ferocious defense, even if the opponent is much larger and stronger.

Cornered, a weasel would fight with as much, or even more courage than a lion.

So what do we call these weasels who fight with a lion's courage? A lion-weasel? Or maybe a liasel? Or a weasion? Why, we call them a lion, of course. Humans label things based on traits they see and expect. If a weasel displays traits of a lion, then humans label them as lions.

Irrational? If you think about it, even YOU label people you have yet to get to know under a perceived label, no matter what he really is. If you meet a guy wearing 5 cm thick glasses, his nose in a book, clad in trousers pulled to his stomach, and wearing a clean white shirt that bears the creases from sitting down to read at the library, your brain jumps immediately to "NERD!".

But he might be a jock who loves basketball, wearing a costume for the sake of a halloween party.

If we meet a weasel, and it displays the traits of a lion, the first thing our brains will jump to is, "LION!".

So, what do you call a non-mugger who displays mugger traits?

Yes! A mugger is born!

All hail his Muggership, Vincent!

Long live the Grand Muggerer!
--

P.S. If you have followed my argument, you should have realised, of course, that all this is hinging on IMPLIED perceptions. If you SHOW others you have non-mugger traits, you'll be labelled as a non-mugger. This means, you can be a mugger at heart, while appearing to be a non-mugger. Of course, it may sound easy, but the art of hypocrisy is not so simple.

Maybe I'll talk about it, and share with you some secrets of my hypocrisy technics the next time I blog. Well, till then, tata~!

Change

2005-10-25T22:37:00.000+08:00

Change

I've given it some thought.

This blog has, from since its humble beginnings, been a place for me to talk cock, as they say, and also deliver pompous, arrogant lectures no one deigns to hear. Well, in tandem with the new year coming (in two months), I've decided to change the nature of my blog.

Checklist:
-New Blogskin (DONE!)
-New Theme (DONE!) [no longer "life suks" but, "the future"]
-New Colours (DONE!)
-New Style: Bitching, instead of lecturing (IMPLEMENTING NOW!)

Yes, from now on, my blog is a bitching site. I will bitch about anything that won't land me in a court of law. I don't mind bloodied noses. I think I need a bloody nose anyway. So yes, if you're looking for anything except hearing a small, fat, useless, god-damned-for-all-eternity-gay-faggot bitch about anything he feels like, you're in the wrong place.

If you feel offended already, I've only one thing for you:

www.ImageShack.us

2005-10-23T15:21:00.000+08:00

Your Choice: Hope or Hopelessness

The end of a year draws nigh. It is the time a decent man would stop his chores, put down his tools and take a breather, and ask himself, "How have I grown, and how have I not?"

Bah!

I scorn reflection. I scorn regret.

You reap what you sow. That is the rule, that is the law. No action is without consequences, and no man may escape them. Regret? What can regret do? Can it mitigate the consequences? Can it soften the impact? Can regretting that you did not do this or did not do that make the end any different? What can regret do, except plunge you into despair?

And reflection? What about it? Would reflecting on our past actions unmake our mistakes? The only purpose reflection serves is to stoke one's ego by reviewing, smugly, the scant successes that one has achieved.

I scorn all that.

The end of a year draws nigh. What of my hopes? Have I fufilled them?

Hope. What a word. In one syllable, it symbolises multiple facets of humanity's greatest strengths and paramount weaknesses. Where hope lingers, despair is granted no foothold. Against desperate, infinitely impossible odds, hope paves the way for miracle. Yet hope also drives a man to blindly fight for a lost cause. Yet hope also brings death and destruction to those that believe in it.

What of my hopes?

I could say I had no hopes. I could say, being the Vincent that I am, I avoided the pitfalls I saw. Yet that would be a rank lie. I'm human, and humans hope, no matter how foolish it may be. It is as undeniable as the turn of the tides.

Yet hope is as alien to us as the planet Pluto to Earth. We cannot understand it. We cannot grasp its concept. We just hope. And we hope. And we hope.

What is its purpose? Dare we speculate? Why do we hope? And what is its significance?

The end of a year draws nigh. Now is the time, to lay plans. To form resolutions. To review, reflect and regret. To forge out new blades of resolve in the fires of hope, for a better year, for a better me.

How can humans reconcile themselves to their rank ignorance?

"If evil truly exists, it exists in the heart of mankind."
-Edward D. Morrison

We are barbarians, creatures that fight for nothing but the sake of fighting. We fight to expel those people whom we do not understand. Whom we do not try to understand. We take up swords, take up guns, take up armies and nuke warheads, and slam them on those different from us. We refuse to understand them, we refuse to accept them, we refuse to try. Because we cannot.

Are we truly?

Where we tread, we bring terror and destruction. Yet, also, we bring hope.

Where animals are nearly extinct by our hands, we form enclaves and reserves for them, for the hope of their continued existence. Where sorrow and loss has abraded and worn thin the hope, we look for new sources, depleting them as well, but all for the sake of deflecting these sorrows and losses. Where hope does not exist, because we kill and slaughter and enslave, we create hope, and Jesus, and God.

Does hope cause death and destruction? Or is death and destruction the harbinger of hope?

Is there any difference, either way?

Are humans parasites?

Are these questions important?

No. I've come to the conclusion, they are not. Everything is in the past. The past is gone, forgotten, and history. We must now look to the future. That is where our destiny, our fate, our lives, and our deaths, lie.

Yet we face a cross-roads now. Do we trundle on, tired, exhausted, unwilling to lift our heads, panting at every step, discarding hope and destruction, and yet, hoping to outrun our own fears and evils? Or do we raise our heads high, embrace hope, and set forth with a spring in our steps, accepting hope with all its perils, and looking to carve a new path, away from the repetitive barbaric acts of humankind in the past?

Your choice: Hope or Hopelessness.

Is there even a choice? Will there even be a difference in the outcome?

Well, nobody knows. The future is yet unformed. We can ignore it, and move forward in time-proven steps to destruction, or we can reach out, jump for it, and risk breaking our necks in unmerciful agony.

Everything in life is a choice. What will you choose?

longtimenoblog

2005-10-13T18:47:00.000+08:00

Love: Second Ed

Why blog?

That was the first thing that came into my mind as I loaded this screen. But I sat back, thought about it, and decided to go ahead. My reason? None. I have no compelling reason to blog, but neither do I have any compelling reason not to. So I heaved a great sigh, leant forward and let my fingers do the walking. (Sorry, I don't usually use cliches, but I needed something to end this prologue.)

I was eating dinner with my mother, the two of us alone in this four-member family, as usual. Not that there's any estrangement (not much, anyway), but my father works night-shift, and my sister don't come home until 8. (Or if she does come home early, she don't eat with us. I said not much estrangement, not no estrangement.) Back to the point, I was eating dinner with her, and we bantered with her taking the usual vanguard.

"Eat mee, (as in noodles) later get hungry ah! Want to eat some of mine?"

I kicked into my usual mimic-my-mom-to-irritate-her mode, and replied, "Eat rice, later get hungry ah! Want to eat some of mine?"

The battle went on, with me reversing all her logic and attacking her with that messed-up intellect. Spoons were meant to be eaten. Food was meant to be thrown away. Tables were meant to sit on us. Spoilt food tasted the best. Cooked food was for dogs. Noodles were filling, rice were not. In addition, since we went through this banter all the time, I judged when she'd be likely to use her trademark phrases and used them in a mimicky high voice right before she was going to. For the first time in my years of banter, I finally managed to pull of the stunt of repeating her whole repetoire at her without a single mistake!

The end was a precedent. My mother was flabbergasted. For the first time, I had pulled off all her tricks before she could. Left defenseless, she took refuge in laughter. Both of us took pride in my accomplishment. There was a time, long ago, when I was foiled at every turn by her tricks. Her wit was sharp and direct, with no mercy for the unprepared, and her tongue hard enough to flay the skin from rocks. I used to be hung upside down by my little toe, and hung out to dry with my flayed skin next to me everytime I engaged her in battle. But now, I hardly find our spars a challenge at all.

Whether it be because of her aging or my young incompetence, I guess I'll never find out.

But more importantly than all that, I managed to, in the midst of it all, pull of my secondary intent. The bowl she had taken from her stores with intent to keep some of her dinner for god-knows-who lay by the table-side, out of her reach, where I left it. Its depths were empty. She always urged people to eat more, heaping her own food on theirs while touching little herself, insisting it was more than enough for her. She never ate a full bowl, or even a half bowl, of rice at dinner, while my plate is usually half-covered with rice. Only when we ate out, or packaged something home, did she eat anything resembling a real meal for dinner.

And most of the times we packaged home, she always set aside some of her food, claiming she could not finish it all. This one night, I managed to keep that bowl out of reach. Suprisingly, she made no move to reclaim her balked intent. We ate dinner in silence, me with abit of the glow of triumph on my features. I knew my victory was not all it seemed. By no means was she going to stop leaving some of her food uneaten. She'd just put it in the bowl after I'd left. But, if luck is with me, she'd misjudge and eat more than she intended to.

And then, my victory would be complete.

I'm not an ambitious man. I know something I can't change when I see it. But I can wheedle what little advantage is left me even with a hopeless situation. I felt fully elated.

Until I remembered that my mother was 30 years older than me, with all that experience behind her. The implications came crashing down on me. She would know of my plan. Her counter-measures would assuredly involve keeping a strict eye on her intake, and purposely eating less than what her eye tells her, just in case she misjudged. True enough, by the time I was finished, she had still a veritable amount of food left. She was keeping a very very cautious eye on her intake indeed. Without a doubt, when I left the table, she'd grab the bowl and fill it to any amount she intended in the first place.

I left, feeling the void of defeat, but not making outcry. Like I said, I know something I cannot change when I see it. My love for my mother remains unchanged, despite all her wit.

And at last, after that first bunch of meaningless words, I've finally come to the crux. Today's events have led me to revise my verdict (if I may be arrogant enough to assume so) of the concept of "Love". I have come to see that "Love" is not only synonymous with "Hate" (refer back several entries, that is, if it is still around), but also synonymous with "Pain".

Why pain?

No, I'm not talking about that headache you have right now. I mean the kind of pain you feel at the base of what feels like your heart. Not throbbing, wave after wave kind of pain. But the slow ache that builds up, piling pressure on your face and making you feel downright miserable. Your cheeks will feel hot, and your eyes very dry. Your tongue will tremble (its true, I'm not joking) and you'll have trouble breathing, as the pressure acts not only at where your heart is, but also at your lungs area. You feel constricted, like you're claustrophobic. Your hands feel week, bereft of strength, and trembles when you raise them above heart level.

No, I'm not talking about a heart attack either, though the signs and symptoms are similar. An emotional ache is, theoretically, similar to a heart attack. You dam up your feelings like the fats dam up your blood in the blood vessels. It feels like its going to explode any moment. And I'm not sure it won't.

What has this got to do with "Love"? What has it got to do with taking and giving? What has it got to do with giving unconditionally to your "loved" ones, or taking with intent to harm from your "hated" ones? What has it got to do with anything at all?

Simple: The main cause, the main perpetuator, the main culprit, the main virus.. whatever, of the ache I described, is "Love". Or "Hate", for that matter. Both ways always lead to the same thing: Pain.

I've read 16 love stories today, ranging the gamut from poems to prose, from an 18 page novel-like story to a 5-liner, from fantasy-style war to tragic illness, from love of a young couple to love for a father. Not one, not even in the one where there was a happy ending with the couple in question snuggling warmly into each other's arms forever, where I did not feel the ache. Correction: there were 2 or 3 where I did not feel the ache. Those so riddled with grammar errors that I felt pain for the mauled language. But I digress.

You say, love is not ALL painful. You say, the reason why those stories made me feel pain was because they were all written by angsty teenagers on a topic they have not truly comprehended yet. You say, love is actually a wonderful, soaring feeling. You say, love is actually sweeter the longer it is.

Then explain, if you can, the ache that afflicts me right now.

Pain inflicted by a seventeen-year-old love, with my predictions of it not lightening in the near future, but increasing in the far future. Pain inflicted from watching my mother and father age. Pain from looking at my friends and their deluded, selfish, useless and ultimately, self-destructive "LOVE".

Don't ever doubt my words. All love ends in pain. All hatreds too, since Love and Hate are one and the same.

Give me a single example of someone NOT feeling sad when his LOVED one passes away. I'm not talking about material ties like parenthood. You can watch your father die and not feel pain, but only if you did not love him, and did not hate him. Only when you view him as a number, not even as a stranger, can you watch him die and not feel pain. And if you die first? You won't feel the pain of parting, surely, since you're dead. Your last memory may be a blissful sight of your loved one. But what about that loved one left? Do you think that your parents will not cry all the more harder if you die first?

How can you even think that pain would be non-existent if you die before your loved ones do? You're being selfish, that way. You're thinking of pain for yourself, and not giving a damn to the pain your loved ones feel when you die. What if you and your loved ones die together? Would there be no pain?

No! Spare a thought for those compassionate people, who love those who they have not yet met! Even if ALL of those people whom you love die together with you, those people whom you never knew existed, who never knew you existed, all grief for you when they hear. Their pain is no less intense for the fact that they do not drop tears. Their pain is no less real for the fact that they forget your existence within a day or two! If humankind did not love, did not hate, then neither would they feel pain. Only when you're hailed as truly inhuman, when you are truly alone, when you truly love nor hate no one, when truly, no one, no thing, not even a single blade of grass holds your love or hate, only then, will you feel no pain.

Only when you're not human.

No matter how callous you think you are, no matter how harried, no matter how indifferent, no matter how inconsiderate. You still feel pain. That pain that even the most insensitive, most cruel, most unfeeling person feels is no less real for the fact that the pain is not as intense. Even a psychopath may feel pain. And the cause of that pain? Love. Hate. Whatever you want to call it.

Stop denying it. You know it as well. You feel it as well. Pain is ever constant, ever-building, and never ceasing. Never, for even a moment, lessening. The bliss you feel? That's happiness, which offsets sadness. But it can never, ever, salve the open sore of pain. The only time you cease to feel pain is when your emotional nerves shut down from too much pain: when you go insane.

I hope I never have to choose, insanity or the oblivion of death. What about you?

hiatus

2005-10-02T12:49:00.000+08:00

Yes, my blog has been on hiatus, ostensibly for me to study. But as those who knows me well know, I've not done much of it.

And now its time to panic.

So yes, before any of you ask, the following post is all for my benefit: a last minute of recap of my history notes. Nothing to do with this blog or my thoughts. If you like, stay and enjoy the music, otherwise, get the hell out of here. Thank you.
---

Industrialisation and its Effects

Industrialisation in Europe had far reaching consequences that lasted from the eighteenth century well into the ninteenth, and continues to shape world history. But how did it all start? What triggered off this momentous event that forever altered the political and economical geography of the region, and later, the world itself?

Ironically, its roots were in the form of conservative church doctrine.

In the late seventeenth century, after the fall of Napoleon, a wave of conservatism swept Europe, and the countries affected were plunged back into the days of feudalism the peasants thought were forever past. Things were no longer the same, the peasants had been riled up to revolt, and now, even though peace hung over the land, they would never stand for the same oppression of the old days. The power of absolute monarchy and the aristocracy was broken forever.

The Church, however, was still a force to be reckoned with.

Still being the only source of education in most of Europe that is availible for peasants, the Church's doctrine was accepted far and wide, preposterous as it may be. For example, potatoes were said to be from hell, as they grew below the ground. Even though this is a ridiculous logic, peasants accepted it as truth. As such, Church doctrine resisted free thought and the advancement of science, philosophers were thus persecuted and oppressed.

But all that changed during the period of the renaissance. Started in Italy, it was a period where free thought ranged, well, free. Philosophers were allowed to present their theories in bold strokes of art, literature, and other mediums. By the eighteenth century, these thoughts had revolved into practical solutions to the region's problems. Scientific advancements flourished past any limits the Church could put down. A man, overly smart, invented the steam engine, and this invention sparked off a series of events that led to the Industrial Revolution itself.

The steam engine was arguably the singular most important invention for the Industrial Revolution. It was used to revolutionalize work; no longer do humans need to do manual labour. The steam engine could do work for humans without need for any effort on any human except to oversee the process. Machines were invented that replaced human labour for planting, and this sparked the Agricultural Revolution.

Farms now could plant a variety of crops instead of one, and had no more need to let the land lie fallow. All year around, there would be a crop of some sort in the fields, and the whole field could be used. This significantly increased food output, feeding more people and drastically lowering deaths by starvation throughout Europe. Around the same time, hygiene standards were on the rise, and this increased the people's lifespan. The relative peace of the period also meant not alot of lives were lost to wide-scale war. As a result, there was a population boom in Europe.

This led rise to another phenomena, that of the Factory System. As the increased population searched for work in towns, there was a need for new employment. This problem was solved in the factory system, which was born, again, due to the steam engine. Smart alecks mechanized industrial manufacture, and connected it to the steam engine, which mean that now, manufacturers could create goods faster, cheaper, and with no need for manual labour.

More importantly, this invention made it that home-working is no longer possible. Entrepreneurs borrowed gold and built huge buildings instead, to house large numbers of these machines, and employed the people coming to town to look for work to oversee the machines. The result, a dramatic increase in production. As costs were cut down significantly due to machinery doing the work, industrial production became more than a viable business; it became a prosperous trade.

That was not all, the steam engines had been used to create trains, and also steamships, and both these, along with the Telegraph, cut down travel time drastically, and allowed for speedy communication across large distances. The Far East became open to the Europeans, and viable as a trade route, and communications could take place within extremely short times. All these helped to build up the budding business of the factories, and helped to furthur develope the banks who had provided the entrepreneurs with the money for the factories in the first place.

The Industrial Revolution cut down costs so much so that even the poorest peasants could easily afford clothes, which were once seen as an extravagant luxury, and the drastic increase in production meant far larger amounts of profit.

So why was Britain the only country to Industrialise, until decades later before the main continental European countries followed suit? Why, if the Industrial Revolution offered so much advantages, was Britain the first country to so rapidly industrialise while the others still wallowed in conservatism?

Britain was, for one, never touched adversely by war. She was removed from the main continental Europe, and war never touched her soil. Her navy kept her safe, and Napoleon's failed "Continental System" never affected Britain adversly at all. As a result, her trade and economies were already booming. With that much profit already flowing about, it became a simple matter to Industrialise, the capital-heavy process was no problem at all for Britain.

Furthurmore, Britain had a large amount of resources at hand. She could trade with virtually any port in Europe, and her Empire ceded her large sources of raw materials for Industrialisation. Her own homegrown resource, hard-working, willing peasants, made it that her factories were set up very quickly, without fuss, and soon turned the major cities of Britain into sprawling metropolises of factories and growing industry.

Also, the other countries of Europe were still mired by conservatism and Church doctrine at the time when Britain had already implemented a widely successful laissez faire economy. By the time Britain had industrialised, they were still bickering amongst themselves over the fine points of the failing system of conservatism. This allowed the English to take a jumpstart on her rivals in Industrialising.

Industralism thus established English supremacy very quickly.

However, other than the obvious and drastic economic benefits, Industrialisation also brought about social changes on a wide-scale. One of the most important of these changes was the introduction of Capitalism.

Capitalism is a concept of allowing the economy to run on its own, without government intervention. It is argued that, in that manner, the economy would prosper far better and far more than if the government had held on to control. In fact, Capitalism was centered about human greed. It would be the consumer's greed which drove them to buy from the producers, and thus creating profits, which would be invested to furthur expand the industry. Capitalism was a self-sufficient system which would find an equilibrium point where everyone is satisfied, and stay there, even if there is a disturbance.

For the consumers, driven by greed, would make decisions that eventually returned order to the system even in the case of crisis. As a result, governments, producers and consumers would all be satisfied, and the industry and economy would be ever growing and expanding. This system quickly replaced feudalism in Britain, and was an immediate success. Britain's economy was now far more advanced than any country's in Europe. Under this system, a new attitude of protection of private property was endorsed, and this encouraged people to work even harder, so that they had an incentive for what seemed like boring, endless work.

The result? Why, increased production and lowered cost, and greater efficiency of course. What did you expect?

Industrialisation, however, also brought the problem of overcrowding to the cities. As the population increased in the farmlands, and machines replaced the need for human labour, the excess children had no use in the farms. They were forced to go to the cities to find work instead. This rural-urban migration had great impact, in which it increased the population of the towns greatly, and also that it inundated the labour market with an excess of workers. This led to exploitation of labour, which would be discussed later.

These moves stripped the resources in the cities very quickly. Many were homeless and slept in the streets. A place for them to stay had to be found. The result was surburban development. Cities grew larger and more crowded, and there was no place to house the poor souls who came seeking refuge and work. The only possible course left was to expand the boundaries and build ramshackle houses for the new people in what came to be called the suburbs. This development ate up good farmland in the outskirts of town, but no other alternative existed.

Along with the people came even more industrialisation and factories as producers sought to take advantage of desperate people and employ them at excessively cheap wages. Whole towns made up of nothing but factories and lodging sprouted next to coal mines and other sources of power for the steam engines. As a result, the air in Britain grew thick with the fumes from the factories. Acid rain eroded the land, and overcrowding became more and more a problem in cities and towns.

Exploitation of labour was also rampant. Because of such a large amount of supply of workers, and because the factory machines needed no expertise to work, the employers could set very low wages, and driven by desperation, many would sign up. This allowed them to keep the costs low. Also, to provide the workers with a place to sleep that was close to the factory, they built cheap longhouses to give their workers shelter next to the factories, but in appalling conditions. There were not even basic sanitary amenities.

Workers were forced to work very long hours, with no rights except to their meagre pay, and they had no choice. They could work, or they would forfeit that money they so desperately need. Even children were used to provide cheap labour. They were the most cruelly exploited. Forced to work from day to night, with only short periods of rests in between, the children were a source of extremely cheap labour. Some even went unpaid, but unable to speak up.

The ever relentless drive to profit and industrialise kept the employers heartless, and the peasants over-worked under conditions not fit for man.

The decline of the aristocracy was another of the effects of the Industrial Revolution. The old families of the baronies and dukedoms were already in decline after the replacement of fuedalism by capitalism. They had almost no place in the new system. However, their decline was caused by none other then themselves. They, in their arrogant pride, refused to even contemplate industrialising themselves. They refused to invest their resources into the new system, and kept to the old ways.

While their income in no way decreased, the rapid growth of industrialised firms quickly overtook theirs and left them in the wayside. Within years, the aristocracy was poorer than almost all businessmen, and only slightly better off than the peasants. Those that held the reins of economic power were those businessmen who were first to throw off the mantle of the fuedalism and embrace the new order of capitalism.

And thus the aristocracy was fallen.

Other impacts, politcal and social, also came as an indirect effect of Industralism. However, these are the most direct effects.

2005-09-09T22:34:00.001+08:00

Chivalry and Consideration

First and foremost, when the word "Chivalry" comes to your mind, what do you think of? Do you think of a Knight in shining armor, gracefully slipping off his surcoat and laying it on the mud to let a Lady pass without stepping on the mud? Or perhaps you think of the self-same Knight, wielding his blades against foes that outnumber him twenty to one, just to save one poor, starving child from the gallows? More reality bound, perhaps you think of a woman who gracefully lets up her seat for an older gentlemen in a crowded bus? Or maybe, you think of the elderly man refusing to take the seat of the young woman, simply because she is pregnant? Maybe what comes to your mind is your best friend, offering with a smile, to send you home because night has already fallen, and you have to walk? Or maybe, for the egotistical, you think of yourself, protecting your "friends" from unseen dangers of pickpockets and phantom cars, yelling once every two minutes, "look out for cars!"

Well, do you know what comes to my mind when I think of Chivalry? The image that comes into my mind is enough to break any decent person and reduce him to blubbering filth. I see a world without humans, without people, without life. I see a world desolate, I see a world empty and senseless, I see a world laid to waste. Why? This is simply the symbolism, in my mind, of the extinction of Chivalry in this world. Just as there is no life in the world of Chivalry I see, there is no Chivalry in the world I live. Why, you're not crying? You're not on your knees? There, that simply proves my point. There is not a single soul in this planet that would weep to know the truth.

No! You vehemently protest. No! There is still Chivalry in this world. There are still people who would give up their seats, their pride, their comfort, for the sake of others.

I can only say you live still in the blind world of your mother's womb. You are mistaking consideration for Chivalry. A mistake that is, in this world, fatal. Chivalry and consideration are two wholly seperate, wholly different concepts, both with nothing to do with each other. Yet, at the same time, both concepts merge and overlap. How can something be different and yet overlap? Well, how can the truth be lies, how can love be hate, and how can infatuation be lust?

Get real.

If you think Chivalry still exists, think again. What do you define as Chivalry? What is Chivalry? Is it simply a matter of giving up something, for the sake of others? Well, in a way, it is. But its not so simple. Where consideration is a concept easily grasped and understood, and performed, Chivalry is far more complex and difficult to execute. For consideration, all you need to do is to judge your own comforts, and judge what you can give up for someone else. Then give it all up.

Example? Well, for one, giving up a seat on the crowded bus for an older man. That's consideration. You see yourself sitting on a seat, and you see an elderly, and you give up your seat for him. Simple.

Chivalry? Not so simple. What if you're a young, pregnant woman. An elderly stands beside you in the crowded bus. Do you give up your seat? If you do, you're sacrificing your own comfort for his. What if you don't give up your seat? You're still sacrificing comfort. You're sacrificing the old man's comfort for your own. If you're a robust young man, then that would be outrageous. But you're a pregnant young woman. Can you say whether or not giving up the seat is the 'right' thing to do? Is your need to the seat any less than the elderly's? Is the elderly's claim to the seat any less than yours? How will you decide?

Giving up your seat is consideration. Not giving it up is being inconsiderate. However, is that being Chivalrous? Is giving up your seat Chivalrous? Is not giving it up Chivalrous? How can you judge other people, when you yourself is as flawed as he? If you cannot judge, then how can you say who deserves the seat more than the other?

Personally, I term being "Chivalrous" as "giving up something for the greater good." The only problem is that I don't believe in anything called the "greater good". If I don't believe in it, how can I do anything for it? Chivalry does not exist for me. Does it exist for you? Does it exist for someone else? Will your Chivalry clash with his? Do you believe in Chivalry?

How would you react, if you were trapped in a building about to burn down? Search for an exit, right? What would you do if there was an elderly beside you, and only time for one person to jump away before the building falls on you? Would you give up your life for the old man? Would you give up the old man's life for yours? What if, in the future, the old man would save three children from another fire if he survived, and you would only become a drunkard and a danger to the society? Would you still give up your life? Or would you still sacrifice the old man? Which would you choose?

Now that you've chosen, can you tell me which is the truly Chivalrous way?

How can anyone be Chivalrous, if they cannot see the future, if the consequences of their actions are unknown to them? What if you give up your seat for an old man, and the next instant, a flying truck crashes into the bus and kills the man in his seat while you, because you gave up your seat, survive because you were not that near the seat? What if you did not give up your seat for a pregnant woman, and caused her to miscarriage? What if you did give up your seat, and the woman's child grows up to become a serial killer?

Man has long since lost his ability to judge right from wrong. Man has never had the ability, actually.

What is Chivalry?

Does Chivalry exist?

My answer to you: Chivalry does not exist. Chivalry is an Ideal, like "love", like "truth". Chivalry is a child's daydream.

stupidity

2005-08-13T13:16:00.000+08:00

Virtue or Sin: Stupidity

Many people say that the best thing humans possess is their intelligence. Many people say that the best thing about being a human is the ability to learn from mistakes, and much faster than your average creature. Even I will not dispute this fact.

Take for example, the wolves. Fantastic creatures they are, working together, bringing down prey that would have otherwise overpowered any one of them easily. Such teamwork is almost unique in the animal kingdom. Powerful strength, great, snapping jaws, incredible speed, awe-inspiring endurance and stamina. Yet the tactics wolves use to chase down a deer much faster than them into the jaws of a waiting ambush, the tactics used to bring down an oxen which would have killed any one of them with a kick of its legs, the tactics they use to seperate the weak from their herd... All these were fashioned only after decades, even centuries of countless failures. Yes, it took them years upon years to figure out how to do this, to do that. How to faze and haze prey. How to trap and manuveur and ambush.

And look at their prey. After decades upon decades of falling for the same wolfish tricks over and over, they continue to stupidly run where they were chased, straight into the jaws of a trap, they continue to run about in circles in herds until the weak finally collapse; they never thought to stand their ground, to think up tactics to counter those of the wolves.

Humans? Why, humans innovate. Humans are creative, innovative, inventive creatures. The average human achieves in his lifespan at least ten times the amount of innovation a pack of wolves would for 5 generations. Humans are the inventors of the spoken word. Humans are the inventors of literature. Humans are the inventors of electricity... Just to name a few significant inventions out of a million.

Wow, you say. No wonder we rule this planet.

Bah, I say. We rule nothing but ourselves, and what good, I ask you, what good is there in ruling yourself? You are the King, yet you are also the merchants, the administrators, the aristocracy and the peasants. Humans rule humankind, and nothing more.

Well, certainly, I cannot dispute the fact that mother Earth is the platform for human progress. The entire planet is at our mercy. At the mercy of our industrialists, who spew toxic fumes into the air. At the mercy of our corrupt governments, who burn forests like people burn golden paper during the seventh month. At the mercy of people who spit, litter, shit and urinate in the cleanest springs and waterways. At the mercy of people who dig holes to fill with non-biodegradable stuff that is likely toxic. At the mercy of people who aim their CFC sprays in the air, determined to carve a hole out of the ozone layer.

Oh yes, we are masters of the planet. Masters indeed, who care nothing for the planet we are masters of, and yet masters still. How... masterous.

Many people say that the best thing humans possess is their intelligence. Many people say that the best thing about being a human is the ability to learn from mistakes, and much faster than your average creature. I say that it is stupidity, and our worst curse.

Stupidity is not a crime, apparently. There is no such thing as a stupid question, afterall. And, ultimately, genius may have its limitations, but stupidity is not thus handicapped.

More quotes? Why, certainly.

Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity. I'm not so sure about the former.
Albert Einstein(1879 - 1955)

Get all the fools to your side and you can be elected to anything.
Frank Dane

With stupidity the gods themselves contend in vain.
Friedrich von Schiller(1759 - 1805)

To be stupid, selfish and have good health are three requirements for happiness, though if stupidity is lacking, all is lost.
Gustave Flaubert(1821 - 1880)

The two most common elements in the universe are Hydrogen and stupidity.
Harlan Ellison (1934 - )

Strange as it seems, no amount of learning can cure stupidity, and formal education positively fortifies it.
Stephen Vizinczey

Artificial Intelligence is no match for natural stupidity.
Unknown

Everyone is entitled to be stupid, but some abuse the priviledge.
Unknown

To succeed in the world, it is not enough to be stupid, you must also be well-mannered.
Voltaire (1694 - 17778)

Indeed, the wise words of our some of the most intelligent beings on the face of this planet.

What say you? Is stupidity a Virtue, a virtue of intelligence, of quick learning, or a sin? A sin of endless... well, stupidity?

Wait, did you hear wrongly? Did I just equate intelligence to stupidity?

Well, duh I did, when they are the same thing, you equate them. Stupidity equals intelligence.

Yes, my theory is that the more intelligent you become, the more stupid you are... and vice versa, of course.

You disagree... as usual.

Well, let me list some of the most "Intelligent" things ever done, and you tell me whether they are stupid:

1) The concerted hijacking of planes to crash into the human world in the 911 incident. It had to be geniuses behind that plot, able to take advantage of the world's complacency and strike a stunning, incredible blow to the world's strongest super-power. (Or so they like to claim.)

2) The very cliched argument about atomic bombs. You know the routine; Albert Einstein equated E to MC squared, and caused the biggest detonation yet seen on the planet in WWII. Albert was hailed as one of the most intelligent people in the world...

3) The Industrial Revolution pushed humankind into a new age of prosperity... and pollution-ity. Considered as the one most important Revolution to take place so far.

4) The indigenious, nameless hackers who create an army of viruses to crash and destroy the internet, one of the greatest inventions of the world. (I'm referring to the viruses, not the internet.) Tsk tsk, even dis-organised crime nowadays employ technological geniuses.

5) The countless scholars out there writing rubbish like this, wasting time and money, and trees too, for when they print out their books, usually with the words "Half" and "Blood" and "Prince" in it, they print in such numbers that they overshoot the population of the world by half. (How kind of them to provide reading materials for the baboons as well. Now, at last there won't be any "I R [red-buttock-ed] BABOON" cartoons.)

I could go on. Or you could. If you thought hard enough about it... why, its apparent even in your school, in your life. Ever wondered why you felt stupider everytime you pick up pen and paper and start doing work? Voila.

The strength of human stupidty cannot be underestimated. Look at it this way: for how long have we been farting into the air our CFC products? For how long? For decades! And for how long have the same, repetitive warnings from scientists that we will be destroying Earth soon if we don't stop, the same prophecies of global warming... Oh sure, there have been efforts to stop the ozone depletion and greenhouse effect. Well, they are exactly that. Efforts. I don't like geography, so I won't name the tedious facts one by one, of human UNWILLINGNESS to learn from mistakes.

How many freaking "Great" wars have we been through? Each time how many have freaking died? Well, enough, you would think, that we would think twice about wars. Well, true enough, we think twice, but only that. We think only twice. And what happens when the next terrorist decides (with the same idiotic twice-time thinking) to blow himself up? The freaking president thinks twice then goes to war.

Stop thinking so much, and maybe we can get some real things done.

Do we learn from our mistakes? Do we truly? You tell me that. You lose your wallet. You tell yourself, "The f***ing hell! I'm NEVER going to let my wallet get lost AGAIN!"

And what happens 2 decades later? Oooh, where's my freaking wallet?

And now? Now you accuse me of going off point. What's memory got to do with stupidity? Well, to tell the truth, the title was alittle misleading. We're not talking about stupidity. We're talking about how stupid humans are. And memory serves a huge purpose. You wouldn't be very smart if you forgot everything your teacher told you five minutes after he told you.

Well, 2 decades isn't 5 minutes.

Okay, now, tell me. If the President of the US of A one day forgets the constitution, and decides to install himself as a tyrant like that trumped up Saddam... is he any good to the people? Well, certainly he was, since he got elected, but the day he forgets the constitution, the day he forgets his purpose, the day he loses his path. Is he anymore a kind, smart, intelligent ruler?

What is humankind's purpose? What did God, if there is god, mean for us to do? If there is no god, what is it, then, that nature means for us to do? I have yet to see a creature of nature have no purpose. Everything is supposedly linked in the foodchain. Almost everything serves a purpose: snakes eat rats, to stop infestations. Wolves eat prey and hunt together, thriving and ridding nature of the weak and helpless, keeping stronger creatures' population in check. Others prey on wolves, keeping the wolves in check, and etcetera.

Humans? What is it that humans are made to do? Preach the one true god to wolves? Certainly not. Read and write and wear huge, thick spectacles and do nothing else? Certainly not. Make brothels so you can degrade your fellow Man by selling the female (and sometimes male) species of your race? Certainly not. Fight wars for honour, loyalty, chivalry and courage? Certainly not. Why, then, have so many humans turned to these purposes that are not our purpose, and wasted their entire life away? What is humankind supposed to be?

Are we supposed to control the population of anything by eating it? Are we supposed to bring civilization to wilderness? Are we supposed to fly to the skies and shoot each other down?

Existentialism. Tell me, what seriously, do you think your purpose in this world is to do? Have babies? Get a job?

Do you play any part in nature then?

Do humans play any part in nature? If no... doesn't that mean that humans are here to do our own things, by our own right, and have nothing to do with nature? If so... are we not parasites?

An unpleasant truth, one which I myself am unwilling to face. The only other explanation, that we have a purpose we don't know about, is just as bad to face. If we have a purpose, and we don't know it, and we aren't doing it, (or at least, only some of us are doing it), then doesn't that make us the same as the USA President I hypothesized as to have "lost his way"? Are we then, tyrants, useless creatures?

What good is memory, let me ask you, what good is memory that can last at least 2 decades, if we don't remember our purpose? For a goldfish, whose memory lasts no more than 5 minutes, but who knows its place and purpose in nature - to eat the minute (or miniscule, or microscopic) organisms in its freshwater pond and be eaten in turn by larger creatures - would be worth more than us if we do not know our own purpose. And if we don't have a purpose... then we would be parasites.

The fact doesn't change that we have 'lost our way'. We no longer know our purpose, or if we do, we're not working to it as a race. We're going off in different directions; that guy would be a pimp for all his life until he is shot by the police in a raid; that girl will be a prostitute until she dies from HIV; that man would do nothing more than study and play computer games for the rest of his life until he gets a heatstroke from excercising after spending years infront of his computer; that man will die in the army, fighting for a cause that would fail even after his death.

Don't give me the crap about every man having his own purpose. I'm talking about Man's purpose as a Whole. I don't care about man's (notice no more caps) purpose in his life. Individuality don't count here, not when we're talking about Existentialism of humankind. If Man doesn't know its purpose, if Man doesn't work towards its purpose as a whole, then what worth is the man? There is no worth.

Stupidity, virtue or sin? Is being stupid a sin? Or is not knowing our purpose more sinful. Is being intelligent a sin, or is having too much individualism sinful? Or does it simply not matter?

infatuation

2005-07-20T20:32:00.000+08:00

Noticed the switch from anime theme songs to mainstream music? Well, I chose this one because I was listening to this at the moment of this typing, and that it fit in with my topic today very well as well.

Infatuation: Love or Lust?

Well, perhaps the question, "Love or Lust?" is alittle too pompous even for me. But well, every subject must have a focal point. A point where we examine our arguments in context. Anything more general would be too general.

Well, given that most of you know I no longer believe in that flimsy concept of "Love", why am I writing this? I'll have to give credit of the idea to a friend of mine who wishes to remain anonymous. That isn't saying anything? Well, guess what, buggers? It doesn't meant anything to you, but it does to that guy.

Enough about him, its infatuation we're talking about today, and so let's talk.

What is infatuation? That is the question that comes to mind as you read the name of the topic. Let's not even talk about the obscure meanings. Half the people don't know the dictionary definition for "Infatuation". Well, let me enlighten those who don't know.

Infatuation
in·fat·u·a·tion (.n)

A foolish, unreasoning, or extravagant passion or attraction.
An object of extravagant, short-lived passion.

Courtesy of www.dictionary.com

Personally, I agree whole-heartedly. Infatuation is foolish, stupid, and short-lived in the extreme. But well, with my bias against love, who can say when love stops and infatuation begins for me? Well, let's examine just that today. We'll examine just where love ends, and where infatuation begins. And we'll find out if infatuation really is stupid, foolish and short-lived, or is something that is mysterious, powerful and a force of the universe, as undeniable and inevitable as the tides.

What is infatuation? In our lives, I mean, not in dictionary context. What does it mean to all of us? Infatuation... In cases like these, it is pretty obvious infatuation is a different thing for everyone.

For someone, infatuation may be the path to love. A path which would, with effort and perseverance, lead to undying, eternal love. For someone, infatuation may be the path to glory. A path which brings a continous stream of materialistic items without end. For someone, infatuation may be the path to misery. A path that, when followed, leads to the darkest, worst abyss of hell; leads to heartbreak, to disappointment, to the end of life as we know it.

A wide range of definitions for infatuation from a wider range of people. How can we examine them all? Well, love cannot be measured either, or at least, so claims those who believe in it. How do we add infatuation to the equation?

By claiming it cannot be measured, of course. The most obvious way is sometimes the best way. Like time, infatuation is something that is one whole entity, not something that we can measure. True, we break up time into repetitive patterns, but if you think about it, when does "time" have a beginning and an end? Similarly, how can we ever define when we start infatuation for something, and when it ends? When our heart thumps ever so fast, when our knees shake ever so hard? When the person tells us to our face we're not worthy, when the person falls for someone else?

So indistinct and undefinible infatuation is, how can we even deign to compare it? To analyse it? How many infatuations have you gone through now? One? Ten? Millions?

Infatuation isn't even a feeling. You know when you are happy. Sometimes, you don't realise you are happy until you stop being happy, but you still know when that happens. But what about infatuation? Do you tell me that from the moment he/she rejects you, that infatuation ends like so much of gutted fire? Do you tell me that when he/she moves away from you, so far you never meet again, the infatuation disappears like so of a dispelled mist?

What do most of us define infatuation as, anyway? Most of us, as in most of us. Those freakos who think infatuation means salivating over the newest GBA game don't count. Does infatuation mean a step-stone to love? Is it a totally different thing?

Personally, the only thing I am ever infatuated with is with my GBA games. But for those romance freaks out there, infatuation means commitment that leads to a life-long bond. Infatuation means the slow definable build up of a love never realised. Infatuation means looking at a person you've been friends with for months or years, and suddenly realising you want to be their life-partner.

Well, that was pretty hard. Coming up with what all those heart-warming, tear-jerking, experience-sharing examples romance people would think of. But no more. No more illusions. No more faked reality. I will show you what infatuation is.

Infatuation is lust.

That is the cold hard truth. When does love and infatuation seperate? They don't. They are one and the same. And that means they don't exist. They don't exist as an entity you can feel, you can grapple. They are not real. They are illusions in the mind which humans care not to dispel. Just like the existence of a higher being. Just like love.

You disagree? Well, disagree with this:

Tell me that (for those who have had infatuation before) you did not want to be with the person. Tell me that when you are infatuated, the feeling comes only when you look at the said person. Tell me that you've never been near that person and tried to take in everything that was him/her.

Tell me all that, and you have every right to dispute my arguments.

Tell me that when you were rejected, you just picked yourself up and went on with life. Tell me that as you did that, you no longer think of the person at all. Tell me that whenever you look at the person, you don't have even one iota of feeling.

Tell me all that, and you have every right to dispute my arguments.

Yes, I know that it makes infatuation sound like something holy. I mean, what I have been saying is basically this: Infatuation is not something you pick up and throw away. Infatuation is not something that you will discard after being rejected. Infatuation is not something that exists only when you look at the person.

Certainly doesn't sound like a description of lust, right?

Well, no one ever said lust was bad.

Yeah, your eyes didn't deceive you. I just implied that lust is good.

Well, I'll clear up your doubts. I do not think lust is good. I just think lust is neutral. It is, to me, an instinct. A natural instinct which exists in every human as sure as it does in every animal, every bird, every bear, every badger, every rat, every salmon, every ikan bilis. Lust is not something that is shallow, or bad. Lust is just the drive to reproduce. And without lust, humankind will have died out. Hell, every living organism would have died out if we all only had sex for the fun of it.

So what has that gotta do with infatuation? Well, scroll up abit and re read. I said, infatuation is lust.

Infatuation is just another name for the drive we have to reproduce. Like religion is just another name for the fears we all have.

And if you think that "the drive to reproduce" means the drive to have sex all the time, you're wrong. "The drive to have sex all the time" is nymphomaniac. Not lust. When someone starts calling you a nympho, look to yourself for self-reflection.

But anyway, I digress.

The drive to reproduce doesn't mean just having sex, getting the other party pregnant, and tada, the end. For humans it means making a family. For many animals as well. Creating a family is part of the instinct to reproduce, to ensure survival. A wolf pack is formed on such lines. A family of beavers is formed on such lines. A nest of ants is formed on such lines. A bear mother and cub's relationship is formed on such lines. Even animals which mate excessively during the mating season have an innate instinct to form families.

This is more so with humans. When we want to reproduce, we look for a mate; a life partner. Someone to carry our seed, or contribute it; someone to give birth, create birth; someone to look after the newborn, or protect it. That's the drive to survival, to reproduction. That is lust. When you look at a hot body, you may "lust" after it. Whether or not you want to be with that person for the rest of your life is besides the point. When you look at someone and want to be with him/her for the rest of your life, that points straight to the need to propagate.

Still don't get it?

To propagate means to ensure survival of your race. To ensure survival means to survive. To survive means to create a family which can thrive and fend off starvation and predation. All this is rolled up into that one instinct called, "The drive to propagate/reproduce", which = lust.

Does it make sense now? If lust is the drive to create a family so that you can have children so that they will survive, then lust automatically means to find a life-partner as well. Doesn't this sound very close to infatuation now? When you are infatuated, you want to be the life partner of that person. Whether or not that person reciprocates is a human reaction. Nothing to do with instincts, and thus, nothing to do with infatuation.

That explains why, when someone rejects you, your infatuation need not fade immediately. That explains why you do sometimes think of that person even when he/she is not around. Because infatuation is lust, and lust is the drive to find a life partner.

That also explains how, sometimes, you can be infatuated to two people at once. Not many people realise this, but more times than you would care to count, you are infatuated. And sometimes, with more than one. More than two, in fact. Why, that might even go some way to explain why some people commit adultery. Certainly, that is a more logical explanation than saying that adultery is the work of the devil; especially if the devil and his counterpart doesn't exist.

I can't go into details of the feelings, since I rarely feel any such thing anymore, but give me a few more years, and maybe I can tell you more about those feelings. But the logic, the theory never changes. No matter how many times you are infatuated, no matter with how many you are infatuated at one go, it doesn't change the fact that infatuation is lust, and that it is no more real than love, no more mysterious than any other instinct.

Infatuation, Love or Lust?

The truth is sometimes cruel, but well, life sucks. Get used to it.

Entertainment or Endtertainment?

2005-07-02T23:41:00.000+08:00

Entertainment or End-the-atainment?

Humans are well known for their myriad abilities. From inventing a light-bulb to discovering that E=MC squared. From the bullet train to the atomic bomb. From doing trigonometry to calculating accounts. From building the Empire State Building to Apollo 13. Humans have never been disputed as the biggest brains on planet Earth. I mean, this is perfectly true, tell me, have you ever seen a dolphine do sums? Have you ever seen a monkey build rockets?

Humans are undoubtedly the smartest creatures on Earth. Granted, we are not the strongest, neither do we have physical specialties, like the bat's super hearing, nor the dog's super smell. We don't have the gorilla's super strength, or the wolf's super speed. Neither have we the elephant's size advantage, or the falcon's air superiority. And while we might be tricked by animals once in a while, it is without a doubt we are the smartest, cleverest, and with the most potential to develope intelligently.

Well, the above are all proven, or assumed, scientific theories.

I say it is all bullshit.

Humans may be intelligent, but they are certainly not smart or clever. Since when did people who bomb others with atomic bombs be termed smart? Since when did people who drive a plane into the WTC that his fellow men made be termed clever? Since when did people who sit in a large, cold, darkened room and stare at a huge eye-damaging screen, chewing unhealthy pop-corn and drinking soda like a mindless zombie be termed either smart, or clever?

Entertainment, they call it.

End-the-atainment, I call it.

The more humans do mindless things such as watch movies and anime, the more we degenerate. From noble, kingdom building, to the space age, we're slowly, but surely and steadily, regressing back into our primitive age. With every movie being aired, thousands of brain cells in the world are destroyed. Even more eyes are damaged beyond repair. And uncountable teenagers' minds have been tainted.

Noblemen who worked hard to provide for their people, are being replaced by tyrants who act under the name of justice and judgement. Who declare war against countries because of suspected nuclear weapon possession. Government who act under the guise of democracy, but is actually a tyranny bent on turning an island and its natives into its own huge gambling den by buidling casinoes in the name of "Tourism". Not to mention poaching endangered animals, cloning, genetic engineering and also transplanting without consent. Well, with dead consent that is. And I've not even touched on STDs yet.

Well, what has all these got to do with Entertainment, you ask.

What has it all got to do with End-the-atainment? I'll tell you:

Deep Impact - Note the very obvious parallels depicted of the United States of America's tyranny. The "Extinction-level event" that was the meteor on a collision course to Earth was code named "E.L.E." or "Elly", and was mistaken for the president's newest affair. It was made during the Clinton administration too. Obvious cause of STD.

Initial - D - Need I say anything at all? Indecent exposure, purposeful with-holding information regarding racing cars and its dangers, malicious casting to attract even teenage girls, and introducing the idea of a "sexy swimsuit" to children and infants. Major cause of almost every social problem I can think of. I mean, which mother would not disown a child who declares he wants to race down Bukit Timah hill on their skate-scooter? Just the embarrassment is enough for anyone to disown the child.

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Another great writer's work flushed down the sewage along with LOTR (Spell it out, Lord of the Rings, for fucking gods' sake) and the tantrum-prone Harry.

Naruto - Just the dragginess of this anime would cause lung haemorrhage. Translation = vomit blood. Stupid storyline also helps to increase illiteracy rate as it exponentially increases the SQ in its watchers: the Stupidity Quotion.

Shaman King - 'Nuff said. The corny name by itself is lame enough. The lame jokes in the show are even lamer still. Can you imagine a lame lame joke? I mean, as in a lame joke that lames? That the coldness you feel is only the tip of the iceberg, that cliche meant quite literally.

I could go on, but it would take you the better part of your month to read through all that.

Think about it. All these End-the-atainment would one day be the downfall of humankind.

MARK MY WORDS.

ego-poke

2005-06-25T09:33:00.000+08:00

Ego-poke

I'm way behind on my medicine. Its far overdue for an ego poke. Well, from here on, it'll be all the nitty gritty details of my mediocre-ness and reflections of my ass-arrogant actions. If you skip it, I won't blame you. 'Sides, I'd prefer you skipped it. There are some things in here you shouldn't know anyway, and yeah, that message was for all my friends, past and present.

Chapter 1:

Let's start from today. I just woke up, and.

Wait, I didn't just wake up. I woke up long ago. I just didn't want to admit it. I woke up around 7. My mom was calling me, reminding me of my promise to her last night that I would go with my parents to the wet market for breakfast. My brain was perfectly conscious, with just the comfortable need to snuggle in just alittle longer.

I pushed her away, faked moaning and groaning, and thrashed when she got too close to unmasking me.

She left, again.

Yes, it wasn't the first time I've held her up for a morning breakfast promise. Its not that I do not like to go there anymore. Its just because I'm too lazy. I'm not avoiding the breakfast because its not nice, or that I would sulk because of sleep cut short (I would) but rather, because I was too lazy to do anything else other than throw her invitation back in her face.

Disgusting shit eh?

Well, that's not the end of it.

My parents came back a couple of hours later, just after I finally deigned to drag my big, fat, sorry ass outta the bed. During the breakfast they bought back for me, I listened to them work.

You remember the entry I wrote some time ago about Truth and Lies of the commercial world? Well, I heard my father telling my mother off that she got conned by the vegetable stall man while peeling prawns. Her retorting banters as she unpacked the vegetables were without the usual acidity that marked it was a serious argument.

Conclusion? My parents were not as stupid as I made them out to be in that entry.

I had the nerve, I had the audacity, to look at these two people, with near 35 more years of experience than me, and expect them to be less knowledgeable than me. Oh sure, they can't do trigo sums, they can't write GP essays, they can't argue history points. But what the fuck, I dared to doubt their street-smartness? I dared to doubt their practicality? I dared to doubt their world experience?

Just because I had reasoned out how the commercial world went about cheating others didn't mean I could act all high and mighty and treat my mother to a lecture at the dinner table. Plueh.

As always, when I look back now, those actions, which had seemed so perfectly right and normal, were disgusting and pathetic attempts at getting attention of a love-starved, egotistical, good-for-nothing, foolish twit with peas for brains. My reaction was "impossible to be me", but as usual, a closer look proved that wrong. It was all too possible. I'd grown arrogant these past two months, shot my mouth off more times than I care to count, and acting like a fucked up brat enough times that I wonder why my friends don't abandon me.

Chapter 2:

Yes, there's a chapter two. And it is still on my parents. Yesterday, actually. I got home from the exams, during the way which I loitered with them, presumably to do homework. Well, they did do some, while I just slacked there, glad to be with them, and doing anything but work.

When I got home, I wasn't in a good mood. I never was. I think my brain thought that being a troubled teen when I reach home was something that was "cool". I mean, sling bag over my shoulder, a slight frown marring my features, my eyes cold and far away, my hands twitching as if itching for a fight. Cool image eh? Well, super-impose my face over that image.

There now, vommit it all out. You'd feel better.

Yes, I was acting cool, and being a total twit. I got home, not in a good mood, and went straight to my room to switch on my computer. I mean, hey, I just got back from an exam, from slacking, and a mere two days from my main exams, I go straight to my computer the moment I got home.

Wow.

Doesn't take a genius to know that any normal parents would come in to scold. Well, mine didn't. Not because they didn't care, but because I never told them. Well, they never asked.

Anyway, I found out my internet wasn't working so well. I checked out the modem connection, and my father walked in at that moment to tell me there was some problem (duh!) and he was fixing it.

So I went back and waited. After a few disconnections and reconnections, I blew up, muttering expletives at no one in particular and walking around with the "I feel angry, come near and I'll fuck you up." attitude. Any normal parent would take to the cane to shut that brat up until the problem was fixed in peace. My father didn't. He tried to placate me by working harder, trying different wiring connections, and when his actions came to fruit, I unceremoniously went to my room to resume my interrupted internet session without a word of thanks.

Oh yes, when I did those things, I did think about what I was doing. It was justified that I was angry, afterall. No one likes getting their connection skewed. No one likes having to wait. Espeacially not an adolescent. I looked at the situation, and acted accordingly. My logic was flawless. Except that I didn't equate my father's feelings into that logic. I didn't equate the justification of my actions together with the effects they would have on my father to that logic. I only thought of myself, and I acted accordingly. Like a selfish bastard.

I thought I was cool. I was nothing more than a brat, acting up against his elders. I was nothing more than a child, desperate for attention, and going about getting it in the worst ways possible. I was acting like a "Marcus" or a "Wei Kian".

No offense to those names over there, but yeah.

Its not enough. Two chapters of ego poking are not enough. But I fear the more I put up here, the less friends I will find myself with. Argh, get outta my sight, vincent.

emotions. what a burden.

2005-06-21T19:56:00.000+08:00

Emotions; what a burden

People always say, one should be glad to be human. To be able to feel like a human. And I do not mean your sensory perception of "touch", but rather, the gamut of emotions, ranging from anger to sorrow, from ecstacy to lust.

Emotions, they say, are the greatest things humans possess.

But have you ever had one of those days, when you wake up, and you feel, any emotion at all, just feel an emotion, and wished you couldn't?

Have you ever felt un-utterable sorrow, so much so to the point that your heart literally hurts? Have you ever felt the pain of loss so keenly that the slice of a kotetsu (sumurai like blade: very sharp) across your neck would be welcome, a merciful end to a torturous existence? Have you ever felt anger on such a scale you would kill anyone and everyone, even those whom you thought you loved most?

Have you ever felt the seductive pull of suicide, the answer to all your pain, all your sorrow, all your anger? The desire to jump from the topmost floor of my HDB have never been so strong.

I have never been so bored in my life.

Well, okay, seriously, I'm not suicidal at the moment. But the boredom is driving me up the wall. Quite literally, I've tried climbing the walls like Spiderman. And yes, in case you were wondering, I'm quite nearly fucking looped in the head.

Anyways, that is beside the point. My point is, emotions are more trouble than they are worth.

You've felt happiness before. When you're with your friends. When its your birthday. When you hear a joke. When you're being tickled. (Well that last one... could be irritation you were feeling... but again, I digress) You've laughed, the reflexive reaction to the bubbly, soaring, floating, blissful heat in your chest. You've smiled, grinned uncontrollably as you look at your friends beside you. As you stare at a toddler clap his hands in glee about a new toy in front of him. (No, Hardcorers, I'm not talking about evon.)

You've felt anger before. It is when you feel this heat at your chest, similiar to happiness, but burning instead, burning hot and uncontrollable, like a forest fire spreading faster than you can control. You've frowned without intention, glared and glowered, clenched your fists, mouthed (or sometimes shouted) epithets. Gritted your teeth so hard you could hear them crack. Resort to physical violence, sometimes slamming a fist into the wall, sometimes into the offender's jaw, to alleviate this feeling.

And then you've felt satisfaction. When you've finished a meal, a meal you like. Not only finished it, gorged yourself on it. Shoveled food into your mouth so fast it was a wonder you didn't choke. Then you lie back on your chair, pat your now engorged tummy and gave a loaded, sated sigh. You've felt satisfaction after hearing a person's jaw crack with the force of your knuckles beneath it. The impact of the punch, jolting a reaction force back up your hand, your arm, your elbow, your shoulder. The pain never felt so good.

And yet still, you've felt (I couldn't resist) boredom. Sitting in front of your computer, staring at it, staring and staring, waiting for something, anything to appear, so that you can click it. Not for any discernible reason, just click it, for the sake of clicking it. To do something except sit there. Lying on your bed, willing your body to move, just so that you're doing something other than lying there, but knowing at the same time, no matter what you do, you can never acheive satisfaction. Trapped, without anything to do, but unable to do anything about it.

All these, and more, are what defines us as humans. All these, and more, are what makes up our "humanity". All these, and more, are the greatest blessing of our existence.

How pathetic.

Feelings encumber us. Feelings make us hesitate. Feelings delay our decisions. Feelings make us reckless. And yet, these feelings, these emotions, its what makes us human? Its the greatest blessing of our miserable existence?

How pathetic.

I say, emotions are a burden! A burden we can all do without! A burden we must be willing to let go of to improve, to progress. A burden to be destroyed if we are to become more than knuckle-dragging, salivating, mindless, shambling baboons.

What do you say?

What? That I'm wrong?

Well, what can I say, humans. Pathetic creatures, willing to give up progress and improvement for a mere security blanket that, in reality, offers nothing more than the illusion of stability.

Well, then again, maybe it is not the fault of the individual. Maybe it is not the case that we are not willing to give up emotions, but rather that we cannot.

Humans, pathetic creatures that we are, are unable to break away from the things we have. Just because we were born with emotions, we are unable to shut it down. We can harp on it all we want, but when a mass murderer slams an axe into the chest of your father, you will not be able to stand there and stare, unfeelingly, at the death of your closest family member. When a car speeding at 120 km/h slams into and flings a friend of yours fifty feet away, you will be unable to stand there and watch.

When news of more homework reaches your ears, you will be unable to hold your tongue, access it as it is: a mere piece of homework, and must instead launch into a chorus of groans and moans with other equally mindless friends sitting around you.

Try it yourself. When something happens that warrants a laugh, a giggle, a gasp, try to keep a straight face, banish the emotions coursing through your body and access it as it is.

You cannot.

Like a drug, like a narcotic, emotions are addicitive. Once we've felt ecstacy, happiness, we refuse to give up a chance to feel it again. Despite the fact that doing so might cause inconvienience and danger to others. Most times, standing there and laughing might me harmless. But what if, right behind you, is a person who just had a nasty accident, and must rush to the hospital? And yet, you stand there laughing at an impromptu joke, and delay the person's precious time, causing complications and even death.

Oh yes, emotions can be as lethal as drugs.

"Such a thing would never happen to me," you deny vehemently.

I give you a skeptical look and quote one of my favourite oxymorons, "Never say never."

How many of you think you would be raped?

How many of rape victims thought they would be raped?

How many people live life normally, and then BAM! A speeding car running a traffic light crashes into their car? How many of them said, "This would happen to me, I'd better be careful."

How many of them thought, "This would never happen, not to me, at least."

Face it. Emotions are dangerous. No matter how minute the chances of feeling would cause another person's death, there is still that chance. While you might feel it would never happen in your lifetime, face the fact that it could happen.

And when it does, it will be too late.

Emotions are a burden we do without, not only to increase efficiency, but also to save lives.

2005-06-09T10:20:00.000+08:00

Updated after yet another undeclared, ultra long hiatus. And I've finally added Labbit into my links too. Sorry for delay. Anyway, I should stop this administrative nonsense. Let's jump into today's long awaited episode of...

Virtue or Sin: Hate Part II

Where did we leave off?Ah yes, I'd only just finished defining what I meant by "Love" and "Hate", and I was going to explain why I said that Love and Hate are actually the same concepts, and not, in fact, the opposite ends of the spectrum. Now, for a recap.

What is Love? Love is the act of selflessly sacrificing everything of oneself, to chain oneself to the person he loves, to unconditionally, and silently give up everything he or she possesses to furthur the career or life of that said someone.

And Hate? Hate is the act of selfishly taking from someone everything you can, with no intention of returning even one whit of what you took, whether intentionally or not.

To the average human, to most people, (to even me) that sounds like a description of two entities that are at the very opposite ends of a huge spectrum. That feels like the conventional explanation for Love and Hate. But I've since found out that "conventional" usually means to be left in the wake of everyone else's dust. And going along that train of thought, I've concluded that Love and Hate are the same things.

How so?

Unbeknownst to many, the fairytale of a "Love-Hate relationship" is far more closer to the truth than any of us could come. We've all heard of such a thing, where the two protagonists start out to be nemesis and "hate" each other. (Note the "hate", I'm not using it in the context of my definitions) Then, later, what we term as "time" passes, and the two said persons come to realise they "love" each other instead. (Note the "love" again.) They come to see that one can no longer live without the other, and that seperation would mean pain unbearable. And so they up and gets married, and lives happily ever after.

Does such a scenario really exist? More importantly, what is its significance to my argument?

I'll answer both at one time: There is no such thing as a "Love-Hate relationship".

Based on my definitions of "Love" and "Hate", there cannot be both at the same time... can there? And if such a thing as "Love-Hate" does not exist, then it means that Love and Hate are not entities that exist in the sense of the world.

Unlike "Light" which is as intangible as "Love", Light is an entity that exists. But the concepts of "Love" and "Hate"... they are exactly that. Concepts. Nothing more. They exist in the world only as much as Peter Pan or Satan or Jesus or Heaven or Hell or Angels or Demons does.

They exist only in those who believe they do.

Such concepts have always been troubling theologists. If Jesus exists in the Bishops or Priests, then what about the pagans? Jesus doesn't exist for them. Then... comes the question of does Jesus exist or not?

Does Love really exist? The answer is no, it is merely another comfort zone humans create for themselves. God is a concept that humans made up, a concept that explains our existence. A concept that assures us of our place in the world. If God doesn't exist.. the it could well mean that humans exist only because they do. That we have no purpose in our existence, except that we do exist.

For some people, that concept is unbearable.

Love and Hate are similiar to that. We strive to explain why we are giving up our lives to bring up our young. It is an explanation we give ourselves as to why we are giving up better suitors for this guy or that girl to be our mate for life. It is an explanation of why we can never get a civil word across to another person. It is an explanation of why, when our parents give up everything they have for us, we still take everything they give and return nothing.

If the concept of Love and Hate doesn't exist, then disturbing questions pop up: Why am I giving up this job for my wife? Why am I not going to furthur my studies in Australia just because my mom is dying? Why do I have to work in the first place, to feed my children? For what? Why am I not just going to steal? Why am I observing proprieties for that stall holder, I should just take what I want.

With the concepts of Love and Hate, the answer comes easily: Because I love my children, I don't want them to suffer. Because I love my wife, I want to make her happy. Because I hate theives, that's why I don't steal. Because I love my mother, that's why I'm giving up the chance to furthur my education, just stay with her in her final moments.

Thus, if you look at people to people relationships, if you dig far enough, if you think about it long enough, you'll be able to find "Love-Hate" relationships at the root of everything.

Wait, didn't I say "Love-Hate relationships" don't exist? Well, they don't. Remember what I concluded about "Love" and "Hate"? They do not exist in the sense of the world. If they don't exist, a Love-Hate relationship cannot exist either. But since "Love" and "Hate" are just concepts, then, a "Love-Hate relationship" can be a concept as well.

In actual fact, the only way the concepts of "Love" and "Hate" can be explained is in the form of "Love-Hate" relationships. The two are inseperable. At the root of every love, at the root of every hate, there is a love-hate.

Love and Hate cannot be explained individually simply because they are not individual entites.(they are not even entites, remember?) Love and Hate are as interlinked as Light and Shadow, only that the latter DOES exist, and the former doesn't. You cannot be loved without hating that someone. You cannot hate someone without loving him. Use my definitions, then look at these two statements again. You will find it is true:

When someone gives everything he/she owns for you, you're taking everything he gives you, and not returning anything. Is that person not "loving" you, and you not "hating" him?

Try it on relationships all around you. Look at your father and mother. Look at your uncle and aunty. Look at your friends. Then, when you think you are ready, look at yourself. You will find it is so true you will shy from the truth. Ah, and what is truth anyway... (nevermind about truth. I've already said it before.)

Finally, after all these mind-numbing arguments, the final question, the one that has been voiced in the first place. Virtue or Sin?

Hate, is it a virtue or a sin? Is it right to hate someone? Should we forgive everyone who has ever done us injustice, or should we hold a grudge? Is doing that a virtue, that of upholding justice, or a sin, that of selfish need to feel important? Since "love" and "hate" are inseperable, then let us examine with this with love as well.

Is it a virtue or a sin? Is it right to love someone? Should we reject everyone's need for love, or should we love everyone we meet? Is doing that a virtue, of a compassionate heart, or a sin, of a needless sacrifice?

As usual, I will not answer the question. Afterall, as a free thinker, I avoid such theological absolutes. As Obi-Wan Kenobi is so fond of saying, "Only the Sith deal in absolutes".

Anyway, thank you for waiting so long, and listening to my awfully stupid and irrational explanations. I'm a free thinker, so I will not force the reality that "Love" and "Hate" doesn't exist on anyone. (Just the same way I do not expect to be forced into a religion)

I'd love to stay and talk more, but... some other time, I guess.

Arigatou, and sayonara.

Virtue or Sin: Hate pt 1

2005-05-14T15:31:00.000+08:00

Virtue or Sin: Hate Part I

G'day everyone. Its been another long break since my last post. I'm sorry I left you desolate for so long. Indeed, life has taken me far from the chance to kick back and relax as much as I used to. I regret my absence, so, if you will, let me today make it up for you.

For those who know me though, the above was a bunch of crap. No, I haven't been too busy. I've just been too free. I wish I could say I had lots of homework to do the past couple of weeks, and I do, but I've not been doing it. I'm here, blogging, not because I've finished all my homework (I managed to complete outstanding ones, but not ones due this weekend) but because I don't want to. What a paradox.

Anyway, let's waste no more minute lamenting the loss of precious time. I never believe in crying over spilt milk.

Does that mean I give up grudges easily then? No, actually. It only means I don't form grudges easily. What's the difference? Oh, a world of difference, let me assure you that.

Hate, this concept is as much a part of us as flesh is a part of us. It is held as dear to our heart as love is, or sometimes, even more so. Many people claim they know of love, and have no hate. But more likely than not, that which they hold dear is hate, and all unknowingly too.

What is Hate?

Well, since I've asked this question, might as well broach the seal on the taboo topic as well. What is Love? Is love a concept of being close to someone, to be there for him/her and protect him/her. To be unable to live without him/her. To feed and clothe him/her, to provide for him/her? Is the person you love you sun and stars? The moon of your life? Is the person you love someone who occupies your time all the while? Is the person you love someone you look up to, respect, and hold dear of?

Is hate the opposite of all that?

Think about all the people you hate. Isn't it true you want to kill them? Isn't it true you want to be as far away from them as you can ever be? Isn't it true that you do not love them?

What about the people you love, then?

Are they not the people you are with most of the time? Are they not people you will never shy away from? Are they not the people you actively seek out? Are they not the people you turn to the moment you have need of them?

Isn't this all settled then? Love sits on one side of the spectrum, and hate on the other. Love is a virtue, and hate is a sin. Love is everything well and good, and hate is everything dark and evil.

Think about it. Do you believe what I just said?

The answer? Obviously not. There's something wrong in there, somewhere. The conclusions sounds fine, perhaps, the arguments are sound, perhaps. But somewhere, inside, when seen as a whole, the two puzzles do not fit as snugly as they first appeared to be. Somewhere, something went wrong, and everything we know, everything we believe in, is suddenly wrong.

Paradoxical? I believe I used this word once already.

What's wrong? I'll tell you what's wrong.

Love and Hate... are the same things.

Look to your mother or father, or your guardian. The person(s) who've brought you up. The person(s) who've taught you how to be you. Undoubtedly, they are people you love. Examine your feelings! When you look at them, what do you see? Do you see a woman who has cared for you, who has give you everything she has? No! Do you see a man who has worked hard to provide for you, to clothe, feed, bathe and provide for you? No! What do you see?

You see your Mother, your Father.

You do not see humans. You see, instead, your kin, your blood, your parents.

You never see the hardships they go through for you. You never see the pain they have to go through. You never see the sweat and blood they've spilt for you. You only see the concept of "parents". And because of that, you're never grateful. Oh sure, Mother's Day comes along, and you buy her flowers, a vase, maybe a car. Oh sure, you hug her and say "I love you, Mom! Thanks for all you've done." But the next day, everything is as it always has been.

You see your mother, not the woman who has given up everything else she could have, could be, in life, to have you.

You've, in more ways than you'll ever know, taken more from her than a lifetime of filial piety could return. And she has given you that unconditionally.

That is Love.

Not some mushy, stupid concept of feeling a "melting heart" when you look at a person. Not some stupid "glazing over of the eyes" when you see your 'prince charming'. Not some "accelerated heartbeat" when you observe the person you really like. Not some hot urge in your loins when you stare and whistle and drool over whatever picture your mind is busy forming.

But anyway, I digress.

Now that we've found out what's love, what then, is hate? Is it an opposite of love? Is it the concept of taking all, and not returning any? Afterall, giving all, and not expecting returns is love, and so the opposite would be...

Then doesn't that make you hate your mother, from whom you've taken all and given nothing?

Yes, that is perfectly true.

Nonsense? Not so.

Take a look at yourself. Frankly, what do you see? Do you see a boy/girl who has taken everything he/she can from his/her parents and given nothing back? Do you see a person who never bothered to be grateful to your parents, and instead scream and shout and throw tantrums whenever you can't get something you want? Do you see all that?

No. You do not.

What you see is... you. Oh certainly. For those people who harp on about "Knowing our own weaknesses"... do they really? Do they really know what evil they are really capable of, or have done? Do they know they've already bitten through the hand that fed them, their parents' hands?

Like you are blind to your parents' sacrifice, you are blind to your own selfishness.

Human nature, that is all can be said. Human nature.

Hate is not a concept about having malicious feelings to another person. Hate is the concept of taking everything you can, and not returning anything. In today's context, few people use it that way anymore.

"I hate you" comes out just as easily as "I love you"

And neither times is it really hate nor love.

A guy wants to bed his girlfriend, he says, "I love you."

In truth, has he given everything he ever has and would ever be and expect no returns?

You look at the Science HOD of your school, and you say, "I hate you."

Have you really taken everything of consequence from her and given back nothing?

You don't agree. Of course you don't. Afterall, if everything I said is true, and is so simple, then wouldn't it be just as simple to change your attitude to your parents immediately? And so, does the concept of "hate" never exist in your relationship with your parents anymore? If that happens, then everything I've just proven is bullshit.

So yes, I'm wrong, ain't I?

No, I am not wrong. You try it. You put this into the forefront of your mind now, and from now on, never snap at your mother, never shout, never even harbour thoughts of anger against her. Instead, you must be grateful to her all the time. Everytime you see her, you must see a haggard woman who have nothing left, because of you. Everytime you see her, you must weep in pain, in remorse, in the knowledge you can never repay her, no matter what you do.

You try it.

I just snapped at my mother, who asked me, quite politely, to bathe. So she can be less inconvienienced as she has many things to do.

Do you think you can change your "hate" to your mother immediately to "love", and keep at it for 24/7, 365 days a year?

There's no way. You can try, and in the end, you will find that it is true. Every day, your mother loves you, and you hate her. Every moment, every waking second. That is the way life is.

Love and hate are the same concepts.

I have little time left. I have to go bathe soon. I mentioned just now, that love and hate are the same things. I'll go into it in Part II. Think about it if you want. Think about all I've said, and compare my examples to a lover, perhaps, to your parents. Is it true? Can it be true?

What is truth anyway? (No, I'm not going to repeat what my last entry has already explained.)

And then think about how love and hate are the same.

I'd tell you to have fun, if I was sadistic. But I'm not, so I'm going to tell you to get some panadol before you start thinking. If you think along the right lines, you'll end up with a splitting headache.

Have fun.

Truth, and lies.

2005-04-26T20:28:00.000+08:00

Truth, and lies...

Where's the "Virtue Vs Sin" you ask. I did not put it in because this topic is not an installment of the Virtue Vs Sin series. Its a normal, usual philosophical topic, that is all.

Today, I was having dinner with my mother when we went into a debate. (Albeit in an informal, chinese manner) She was, as usual, insisting I eat more rice when I didn't want to. When I didn't NEED to. (Need and greed was touched on my last entry... quite a couple of weeks ago. Scroll down to read) Thus, I sorta explained that concept to her in terms of practicality (Not that I'm putting down my mother, but the philosophical concepts I argued in my last entry would probably be too "chim" for her.)

I told her the reason why I'm eating less rice (and other foodstuffs of course) was because I was trying to lose weight. Her response was, as usual, "Rice don't make you fat."

Now, I couldn't stand for that, could I? I had to stand up and put my case! Espeacially when she makes such a statement. It took me some time, but I finally established the fact (not only established, but actually convinced her, which was sorta miraculous. She almost never agrees with my arguments.) that carbo-hydrates are a major make up of our fat. I had to quote examples from around the world before she was willing to consider the fact that foodstuffs like rice and potatoes gave us energy that, if we didn't need or use, would be converted into fats.

Then, in my usual style, I started to digress. That's when I (somehow or another) started talking about truth, and perception, and what it consists of, to her. And so, here we are, finally, after all those crappy, unrelated stuff above, at the real meat of my entry today.

What is truth, what are lies? Is there any such thing?

To be able to understand why I actually came into such a subject while eating, we must first understand my thought-train. I first started talking about tricks and lies cormecial circles use to promote and sell their products. Even hawkers at the market. I quoted the example of "final minute, sell cheaper" scam. Did you ever had a time when you went to the market near noon time, and everyone was packing up? The meat sellers at that time, would be pulling down prices.

"You buy from me, I'd give you extra 1 kg!"

"You want some of these? Last few, I sell cheap cheap, cost of 1kg, I give 2kg."

In fact, these things could be seen even in your secondary school homecoming day, the funfair, that is. Don't you think this is just a stupid, elaborate scam?

If the price of a good doesn't change, and the seller gives you more... is this called selling cheaper? The answer is no. What is selling cheaper then?

Obviously, is when the seller sells you the same amount of product, but at a cheaper price. That's selling cheaper. For example, if a hawker normally sells his goods at $1 per kg, but sells you at $1 for 2kgs, its a scam, and is not called selling cheaper. If a hawker sells you at 50 cents, for 1 kg, that is selling cheaper.

Isn't it the same thing? Isn't the good still sold at 50 cents per kg in both cases? Whats the big deal?

The big deal has been touched on my last entry: YOU DON'T NEED THAT EXTRA 1 KG!!! You do not need to buy an extra kg of chicken breast meat for tonight's meal, but when he tells you he'll give you more, you say, "Okay." Is that a need? Is that not greed? If a hawker is preying on your greed factor, simply so he can sell his goods, is that not a scam? Is that not exploiting your greed factor? You have been exploited. Is that not a scam?

What about the other case then? If he sells at 50 cents for 1 kg, and you buy 1 kg at 50 cents, then he's selling cheaper. That's my stand. How about, then, when you buy 2 kgs, at 50 cents each? Its still not a scam, isn't it?

Wrong again. It becomes a scam now.

Same argument. Do you need that extra kg? If you do not need it, but are buying it simply because it is cheaper now, is that not greed? And even if the hawker did not mean it, he still did prey on your greed, and thus, it is a scam.

Are those arguments stupid? Frankly, if you'll think about it, they are not. The world out there is full of sharks. One way or another, you'll get bitten. The only thing that matters is how you were bitten.

I delved deeper into the subject the same way I delved deeper into the meat of the curry chicken I was disecting at the dinner table. Let's talk about comercial tactics then. A great example is McDonald's. I'm simply sick and tired of Mickey Dees and their stupid scam of lowering prices. One day ago, fish 'o' fillet is selling at $3.95 per piece. The next day, it's a SPECIAL OFFER at $2 only.

Grab it while it lasts!

Based on my earlier argument, that's not a scam. Its simply selling cheaper. After all, they're still selling you one piece, but at a lower price. If you buy more than one simply because it is cheaper, it becomes a scam, but otherwise, its not. Correct?

As usual, you are wrong. Really, you have to do more about your IQ. Anyway, I digress.

Even if you buy only one fish 'o' fillet, at $2, it is still a scam. WHY? Why is it a scam here and not a scam in my hawker example? I'm just contradicting myself, right? (I don't need to tell you you're wrong again, do I?)

Wrong. I'm not contradicting myself. (Heh)

Think about it. Mickey Dees is a company out to make profit. How does it do so? It sells at outrageously expensive prices which, after a while, we're all used to. So when it suddenly drops prices, or "sells cheaper" by quoting myself, what do you think will be the response? Yes, some people will buy more. What about others, other greed-conscious people like you and me? Most likely we'll just simply switch from Burger King to Mac's every time we have an urge for fastfood. We do need that energy. We did not buy extra just because its cheaper. Why is it a scam then?

Mac's is making more of a profit than it usually does.

It has, by dropping prices, successfully poached countless students from Burger King and KFC to eat at their place instead. They have exploited our practicality. We're eating there because it is cheaper. (We need the energy, and we're not buying extra, but it is cheaper than in BK's, which would provide the same amount of energy.) We're being practical. And because we are, thus we are exploited.

Thus, it is a scam.

Sounds like a joke doesn't it? I agree with you. In fact, I think it is. The whole bloody, convulated, screwed-up world we live in is one big, ugly joke. But anyway, I digress again.

Like in all philosophical discussions, we must always go back to the basics of the topic.

My point is, even in everyday life, we're being lied to. We're being cheated. We're having our legs pulled. We're... you get the picture, right? (I ran out of words to describe 'lie' anyway.)

In fact, lies are packaged in such a way, it doesn't feel like a lie. Even a lie-expert like me gets conned once in a while. By simple, everyday things. Not by an elaborate consipracy, but by simple everyday normal things. Do I still need to stress that? No? Then do you get the picture? That the whole damn world is ONE BIG LIE? What we perceive as truths may be lies. What then, is the real truth?

Does it even exist?

I used to define "truth" as each person's perception. Thus, truth is not something that can be put onto paper. The "fact" that the sun rises everyday from the east may not be a "truth". A caveman, when turned around, would perceive the sun as rising from the west if he does not know otherwise, thus the "fact" that the sun rises differently each day is the "truth" to him.

But if the "truth" that we perceive is also a lie... then what is truth? Is there any such thing then? Thinking along the same line, (but in the opposite direction) the lies we come up with may become the truth to the victim whom we've successfully convinced. So... is lie truth? Do they two absolutes even exist then? Can they be defined? Are they, like in Maths, termed as (N.A.) ?

Are we all lying to ourselves now? Are we going to school and lying to ourselves that we are studying? Are we going for GP lessons and lying to ourselves that we are learning more about this cynical, lying world? Is our life a huge lie?

Or is, like I used to define truth, everything we see, the way we see it, the truth? Are we going for lectures, and perceiving that we are learning something, thus we did? Are we going for GP, and, having convinced ourselves we're learning more about this cynical, lying world, learn the truth?

A negative sign, -, times a negative sign, -, is equal to a positive sign, +.

Its a mathematical "truth".

What about the saying, "Two wrongs don't make a right."

Isn't it the same concept of two negatives put together? Which one is correct? If the first one is correct, then there has just been a new lie added to our "truth"ful perception. But if the second one is, then that implies exceptions DO exist, thus, after doing a million times of (-) times (-), one of them might be the exception and not be equals to (+), right? No? Then... isn't it another lie?

My last question posed you, to end off this entry:

Was my entry the "truth", or is it one big elaborate lie?

Have fun figuring it out. Byez.

Virtue or Sin; Greed vs Need

2005-04-11T19:48:00.001+08:00

Virtue or Sin: Greed vs Need

GP lecture today was about, in general, the depravity of humankind, (even though it wasn't put across to us in that manner) and one of the issues we touched on was consumerism.

What is consumerism?

It is the idea or perception that the more items/luxuries/things/materials we "consume" or buy, the happier we can be, or the better our life is.

So yes, it set me thinking, and today's episode of Virtue or Sin is the topic of greed.

Oh yes, we all know about greed, no? We all understand what it feels like to stand outside a handphone shop and stare, salivating, at the newest, best, most desired for nokia/samsung/sony ericsson/O2 phone. But... it doesn't seem like greed, does it? Greed is so... negative a word. Why, we're only allowing ourselves to dream of possessing a luxury. What's the negative in that? Is that really greed? How do you define greed?

IMHO, that is greed.

Oh, but who cares about my opinion? Who am I anyway, to insist everyone follow my opinion?

Well, let's make it simple, shall we? Let us now look at Greed, against Need. Let us now define greed with respect to our needs. Which is a neccessity, and which is greed?

I was having dinner a couple of hours ago, and my mom was asking me whether I could finish part of her share for her, for she was too full. Now, she barely eats any dinner, and I am usually angered when she tries to push more away from her already diminutive share. I've had the argument with her before, why I should not eat part of her share for her, and why she should eat all of her share.

My reason was that I had enough already.

I was full myself. Why is she still pushing things to me? Doesn't she understand that I cannot have anymore than what I'm already eating? Doesn't she understand that, thats all I need? Her counter argument would be that because I'm eating noodles, it would be "digested very quickly" and that I would feel hungry very easily, thus, I should eat more. Now, is there any truth in that? Does eating noodles make you more hungry than rice? Does it mean we have to eat more to have the feeling of being full? Is it what our body needs? Or is it enough?

My stand on the matter is that it is not what our body needs. Noodles is is made from flour, wheat, which is also what rice is made of. Essentially, they are the same things. I have heard nothing to the effect that noodles are made up of significantly less wheat or flour than rice, and would thus supply less than what our body actually needs. Eating rice and eating noodles will supply your body with nearly, if not exactly, the same amount of energy/carbohydrates/or-whatever-it-is-noodles-and-rice-supply-your-body-with. Whatever feeling of hungriness we have is purely psychological, and is greed at work.

What do you think of my argument? Is it true? You argue, perhaps, that the feeling of hungriness, since it is not voluntary, is not exactly greed. But well, like the case with the handphone, it is just greed in a new package. Wolf in a sheep's clothing, to quote the cliche. You may think very highly of your ability to control spending power. But small victories in deterring you from buying trinklets or saving from buying an extra curry puff is nothing beside the inevitable spending on greed that hits you without even you knowing.

Examples? Well, take studying for example. What information do we need to survive? Maybe how to cook? Maybe how to get food? Maybe how to eat food? Thats about all. Sustenance is all that is needed to keep our bodies going. A constant drive to learn more, to find out more about the world around us. Some people call that curiosity, but in the context with Need, is it not Greed?

What about more material wants. Do we not want more now? Like explained in the GP lecture, we want more of everything. We want better technology. Is whats availible now not enough for us to survive? We want more luxury items. That in itself is not a neccessity. We want more of everything. More of entertainment. More of money.

Is that not greed?

But... look at it this way.

If we were to eliminate all greed, what would the world be like? We would all be eating just enough to survive, without additional gourmet appetizers and everything. We will not be bothering to study anything beyond what we need to survive. We will not be having luxuries items. In fact, we'll just be cavemen, not bothering to live under a roof at all.

Greed is the driving force for progression. Greed is what pushes humans to surpass previous highs. Greed is... a virtue?

Unbelievable? Maybe, maybe not.

Ironic, isn't it. That what truly drives us to progress is seen as disgusting, a sin, a trait to be disliked, to be ostracised. Something we revile, something we hate. Something we would never want to be, but cannot shake off. Isn't that typical human behaivour? To hold dear to heart what cannot be acheived, and scorn what we have, and must have.

Or is it?

Is greed a must have? Do we need it to survive?

Maybe we need it to progress... but to survive? To that extent?

Haha, is your head spinning yet?

Well, it was fun while it lasted. I'm tired now. I'll leave you to your deliberations. Have... fun.

First Timetable Day

2005-04-07T19:44:00.000+08:00

First Time-table Day

Today's thursday, the first day nyjc J1 students are finally following the confirmed timetable. The first day, in otherwords, of a normal, official JC life.

But if things are going to go the way they did today for me, JC life is going to suck more than this blog.

Well, for starters, we have PE. Not that I'm still surprised at the toughness of JC PE, I'm not surprised anymore, but PE just isn't as fun as it used to be. Yeah, I used the word fun. I mean, for a guy like me, the chance to have a real work-out and attempt to work off those spare tyres and extra chins is... enjoyable. (Not so much that I'd like going into TAF club that is) For the first three months, PE have been a sort of weekly de-toxification for me. I've always felt like I've been sweating out those unhappiness, darkness along with my fats. Today's PE wasn't really tough. Its been tougher, but its just not as fun.

For lessons, I had econs tutorial today, which was absolutely disastrous. Well, at least it was, from my point of view. When I first found out who my Econs tutor was, I was absolutely jumping for joy that it wasn't Mr Soh, or Mr Soo or however his name is spelt. His lectures were so slow, I wanted to run up the theater to slap him.

However, today's Econs tutorial, the 'first official tutorial', turned out to be just as slow and time-wasting. I can't say I hate my current econs teacher, at least she talks at an average speed. But the content she was teaching was "essay writing skills", which in itself, wasn't too bad. But she had to go through every single line as if we had reading disabilities. We're not babies. We're not primary students. Maybe by reading to us, we can understand better, but I don't believe in wasting a perfectly fine tutorial for that.

Shit you. Get some real work done! Or at least go through those homework assigned us! For goodness' sake.

Next up was CT, with the same teacher (yes, she's my civics tutor too) and what was she planning to do with us? Take pictures. Oh for goodness sake. Maybe you're alittle slow at recognizing names. But did you have to, again, waste another perfectly fine hour for that sort of thing? If not let us do something civics, then spend that time getting to know a few of us better by talking to us or something while letting us do some self-reading, self study, self revision.

Did I sound pissed? Let me tell you something. I wasn't. I was mildly irritated. Because the worst parts are coming.

A freaking 3 hour break.

Okay, so maybe that freak up in the timetable was our fault. That we had to be, as Yvonne would say, "kiang". So kiang that we, as Arts students, who are generally looked down upon, even by teachers (but that's another story all by itself) are taking 4 As and even cross-combi.

Dear school admin. If you guys were so unhappy that we are taking such combis and making it hard to make a timetable, and are now whining about it, why the hell did you give us the choice in the first place? And now that you have, you'd better jolly well swallow that resentment and shut the fuck up.

Sorry, I digressed. I was talking about the 3 hr break. It wasn't too bad, I actually managed to do alittle work in that time. So yeah, it was the brightest spot in today, I guess.

Chinese was up next, and I was alittle, (no, actually, I was a-freaking-lot) tired by then. I was hoping for a real lesson. Late though it might be, at least a real lesson. When the teacher walked in and caught us playing poker cards while waiting, I was kinda surprised and happy. He was quite a good teacher, at least, from the impressions I've had of him. Kitson seemed to like him, and that's always a good sign. Kitson has a good teacher-sense.

He closed one eye for the poker cards and didn't look like he was going to mention it. In fact, he looked downright amused. He was young, which means he understands us better, which is good, and he was (as he said it himself) "effectively billingual". Which is also good. I was like, thinking to myself, well now, what do you know. I might actually have a decent teacher, and a decent school year for chinese!

It looked good, right? Did it turn out good? No. And it wasn't the teacher's fault. My opinion of him still stands.

It was the class.

I do not have anything against 05A5B. In fact, that was the class I wanted to be in. I do not have anything against 05A5A, my class, even though I didn't like it the first day I met them all. I just have something against a couple of people here, and a couple of people there in both classes. The lesson was going fine, he was starting off with exam structure (to be expected, even if I don't like it) and he was actually going through it pretty darned fast. I mean, I had estimated that by the time he finished, we'd still have 2 more periods to go for a real lesson.

He never got to finish it.

Well, it was a combination of reasons. First of all, there was Joel (or however his name is spelt) from A5B, who happened to be like Marcus (from XMS) and kept on talking over at his side of the classroom, as if he was all great and mighty. XMS people should know what I'm talking about. Just picture a leaner, shorter Marcus (with a better hairstyle, but that's another story all by itself) trying to impress the girls sitting around him during a chinese lesson.

Over at my side of the classroom, there was a general feeling of "i'm tired" vibes being given off.

All those, I guess the Mr. Ng (the teacher) could have put up with. He knew we were tired. He knew what being on an ego-ride would do to a person's already loose mouth. But I guess all that, combined with one last straw, pushed him over the edge. Mark, from my class, A5A, was sleeping, which was looked upon pretty unfavourably, and when Mr. Ng woke him by calling his name, (with a smile, I must add. Mr. Ng was actually planning to forgive Mark and shrug it off) Mark returned it with a "salute" with a pen he was holding in his hand. Obviously, being just woken up, groggy and everything, Mark's face would be totally expressionless. That, and the salute he made (which looked like Mark was mocking Mr. Ng) conspired to make him, as Sweez said, "kao bei looking."

Snap.

For a few minutes, there was dead silence (after a round of giggles around the class by Mark's "comical" act) while Mr. Ng struggled to control his rapidly deteriotating composure and bring his boiling temper under control. (I'm making conjectures here, but yeah, he really looked pissed, as in fucking pissed, in my opinion)

I don't want to go into details here. My opinion of Mr. Ng as a good teacher still stands. Because he managed to salvage part of the lesson, despite being angry. He discussed our behaivour with us, and managed to build up a rapport in the place of the scolding we would have received if he had one iota less control over his temper.

But the fact that he was angry, the fact that he had to control his temper, the fact that he was disappointed cannot be denied. And that irrevocably spoilt the lesson.

Oh yes, you're thinking, that's it. The day can't get any worse.

In actual fact, it could, and it did.

I was called up for AVA duty of rehearsal for the international Friendship day NY performance. Being AVA fanatic, I was alittle sad that I can't be with my Umojan friends, but not very sad. I had AVA at least. It was, afterall, the first major AVA event for me.

Well, the 'first' things today all went sour. What do you think happened at the 'first' AVA event today?

Good guess.

Yes, I know I should be immune to it. Afterall, being in my line for 10 years, I should be more than immune to the up-startness of non-AVA teachers who assume everything and make an ASS out of EVERY FUKING BODY.

First, the AVA crew, who are students, who are JC students I must add, who have their homework, who are freaking tired after a long, hard, stupid, fucky day, were STOOD UP FOR 50 FUCKING MINUTES while the teachers were busy doing god-knows-fucking-what. I didn't even want to care anymore. And then, some guy came to tell us we weren't needed and could go home.

Fuck.

We were packing up, swtiched off the air-con and everything, had our bags slung across our shoulder, and then, guess what.

Yup, that's right. That guy had been wrong. We were needed.

Double fuck.

I'm really sick and tired. I'm not going to describe anymore. All I can say, is that we watched teachers who knew ABSOLUTELY nothing about AVA try and be so 'kiang' and test the mics themselves, by tapping on the mics. Well, yeah, since they didn't know shit about AVA, they fucked up and ended up tapping the mics to test. Can't blame them afterall, since they didn't know doing so would spoil the speakers.

Ah well, all in all, it's been not a very good day, but still passable.

BTW, did I sound pissed? I'm not. I'm only fucking, god-damned pissed.

Tomorrow would be a better day... I hope...

Feelings...

2005-04-04T18:08:00.000+08:00

Feelings

I've been feeling okay lately. Which means, basically, its been a boring time of my life. A period of calm, of little change or upsets. I say little, as there can never be a life that's always smooth going. Crispy doesn't seem to understand that.

We've had a hot debate today about life. Yes, about life. He doesn't seem to understand, or perhaps, he doesn't want to understand that humans possess the worst traits. That we never ever "look on the bright side of life" when there's something less bright to look at. Put a 3 million watt light in front on a person, and a 1 million watt light next to it, and the guy would notice how one is duller, rather than how the other is brighter. Granted, that's only if the guy's not blinded before he makes the judgement.

Humans will always pick out the small, imperfect, fussy details; the less observant ones might miss them, but always, it does happen.

And somehow, I didn't believe myself when I was telling Sylvia not to worry about her skirt being alittle distorted. I was typing things like "don't worry, no one will notice" while saying to myself, "are you sure people will not notice? Are you sure they would be polite enough not to stare if they do notice? Are you sure humans possess that kind of qualities at all?"

But then, maybe I'm in the wrong.

I don't know anymore, what to believe. No, I still stand by my point, that life sucks, and sometimes there's nothing you can do, and that life is never fair, no matter which way you look at it. But I'm no longer sure that what I fight for is the right thing. Maybe Crispy's right, maybe he's the one who has stumbled on the "truth".

Maybe.

Maybe I shouldn't be fighting for something I don't believe in myself. Or maybe this is just another period of identity crisis, after which passes I would believe again in my philosophy. But I don't really care anymore. Life sucks, afterall, it isn't fair. Why should I be given an answer to such a convulated question? Life isn't fair, so I shouldn't be given a chance to figure out my doubts. So I should just fight for what I don't believe in, by believing in it, and convincing myself otherwise.

Have I lost you yet?

I hope so, 'cause I feel lost myself. I'm not interested in searching for answers today, so yeah. Like I told Sylvia, I'm just going to lie back, enjoy what's before me, and push all these to the back of my mind, for eternity if possible, until the time when I need to argue with Crispy again.

再见。

Get used to it!

2005-03-31T19:58:00.000+08:00

Get Used To It!

I was walking home from the MRT, just arrived from Serangoon, 1 stop from my stop. I walked slowly, sluggishly. I was tired, too full for my own good, and more than alittle frustrated. My spirits took a definate downturn the moment I stepped out of the train. At least, during the last lap of my journey, I had Yvonne and Yi Cheng to be with me, to bouy my drowning mood.

But as I left Yvonne on the train, I fell back into depression. I thought back on myself, and I find myself far inferior to Yi Cheng. The sacrifices he made for us, his friends of only three months. The favors he did me, for simply being my friend. The inspiration he left in me. I felt guilty, I felt bad, not because he was nice enough to do those things. But because I wasn't.

Humans, aside from a rare few, are depraved creatures.

Depraved, disgusting, irritating, manipulative, arrogant, egoistical, unsensitive, inconsiderate, corrupt.

The list goes on.

I had a talk with Swee Wei today, during GP in the Hall. We weren't listening, of course. Why should we? We have aggregate scores slightly higher than the average student in NY Arts. Well, at least Swee did. But we were not listening, and discussing our own problems, which, of course, were much more important than paying attention to people who are the authority on GP. We were discussing politics, and _I_ was lamenting about the fact that politics and politicians represented the worst of humankind's depravity.

Ironic wasn't it?

I am, seriously, one of the most ego people on the face of this earth. But there I was, chatting, and condemning, politicians for their ego and arrogance.

But I digress.

I was walking, without much heart, toward the MRT exit. I was glancing about me. Peak hour, six-thirty crowd. I could hear wailing, I could hear children demanding, not asking, demanding things from their parents as if they deserved it. I could see humans balding, looking unpolished, being unpolished, acting like the place belonged to them. I could smell the sweat of others, reeking of unwashed clothes and strenous excercise.

And I knew, I was every bit as bad, or even worse, than all of them.

And that made me feel bad. As I walked, I muttered the mantra I have come to treat as my own personal philosophy.

Life sucks. Get used to it!

And so I tried. As I walked, I turned around to 'get used to it'. This was life. You cannot stop that poor man's balding right now. You cannot make them stop smelling of sweat at this moment. You cannot stop the child from demanding what he wants in such ungrateful a manner.

And that last thought snagged in my head.

I looked at the EZ-Link I had in my hand. Just three years ago, we were still using bus concession stamps and bus cards. Not technology this advanced. For those born without being exposed to those past 'inconvieniences', they would automatically assume EZ-Link technology to be a Right, not a Priviledge, the same way I had thought of the bus-card when I was young.

And one day, I might just be so 'used to' using the EZ-Link that I won't even bother to remember the bus-card.

Is this what's degenerating our race from bad to worse? From depraved to even more depraved? From snobbish to all-asuming? Is it technology's fault? I once read this somewhere:

"A sword in the hand of a Hero would champion the cause for Righteousness and Justice, dispel evil and ward against sin. The same sword in the hand of a bandit would cut the throats of innocents, commit crimes and break families. Would that be the fault of the creator of the sword, or its wielder?"

Is it the fault of Technology that humans, being short-sighted and narrow-minded as they are, would forget their humble beginnings and seek to rise above themselves with the advance of technology?

Is it the EZ-Link's fault that children of this newer generation would assume it is their right to have EZ-Link, and thus exacerbate the already rampant unfilialness and ungratefulness?

Is undesirable end-results the fault of the methods used to create it, or the flaw of the primary resources used to produce it?

Is the human being's innate desire to 'get used' to things the underlying cause for all our troubles?

Is my personal philosophy to play a part in creating a less bright future for humankind, or is it doomed from the outset?

I thought on this from the station to the bus, and then to my home.

As I took out the key from my pocket, I shook my head. I have not found the answer.

Life sucks... get used to it.

Virtue or Sin:Vanity

2005-03-27T17:59:00.000+08:00

Virtue or Sin? Vanity...

I was having my daily shower, as usual. Nothing bad was happening, no sudden lightning bolt struck me, and my shower didn't turn suddenly red with blood spurting from the showerhead.

But then, I looked down at myself, and I had this sudden thought.

"Oh god, look at me, I'm fat!"

And then I looked at my arms, and I went,

"Hmmm, well, I didn't see those last year."

And then I thought about what I said, and I had this philosophical argument with myself again.

Vanity, is it a virtue, or a sin?

Now, I'm not talking about vanity like girls going, "Oooh, I've got freckles... I'm ugly~!" Well, okay, so I am talking about that kind of vanity, but I'm also talking about other forms of vanity, and vanity as a whole. Both the positive, and negative, aspects of vanity. Does one side outweigh the other? Does it outweighing the other turn it into a virtue or sin? Or maybe it doesn't matter?

Well, first of all, we have the negative vanity, which most of us are intimate with, personally intimate with. For example, some girls going, "Ew, that dress looks so out of date, if I wear it, I'll be like an ugly duckling in front of my friends." or, "Maybe I shouldn't eat that much, all my other friends have such great figures." Boys? They'd be going, "Dammit. I have three freaking chins. Gotta do more workout, or I'll look like a chum beside that six pack body." or "My biceps are smaller than his. Better do some pushups or I'll look stupid when showing off our arms." Oh, and don't forget critical vanity, when you criticise others.

"Oooh, look at her, she's so fat. Yuck." "Man, look at those freckles on his face, like volcano eruption." "Oh come on, those clothes were so in, like, eighty years ago?" "Haha, he's got his pants pulled up to his stomach, can you believe that nerd?" "My homes' window panes are thinner than his glasses." "Is that a bug, or is that a big bug?"

Don't forget, jealousy.

"I bet you those *ahem* of hers are fake. Plastic, homemade, most likely." "Her skirt's so short, does she think she's sexy, oh, for goodness sake." "He's got big muscles alright. Great physique. I bet you he's all brawns and no brains." "He thinks sunglasses are cool? Well, I curse him to have it confiscated by the teachers." "So what if he's fit, he probably smells from all that working out."

And I haven't even run half the gamut yet. So, before we continue, what exactly is vanity? Consciousness, or over-consciousness as case may be, of the appearance or impact an item has on a person's image. So, is being vain good? So far, not good. But we haven't gone through the whole story yet right? There's negative vanity, there's also positive.

For example:

"Hey, she's got a veggie stuck in her teeth, better tell her before she goes to see her crush." "I've just finished working out, do I smell bad? Better put on some deordorant, let the class not be distracted." "I'd better tuck in my shirt, or I'd bring down the school's reputation." "I'd better urge him to go on a diet, or he might get heart problems later in life!" "Maybe wearing jeans isn't a good idea, it is my sister's wedding, afterall." "My performance is next week, better take good care of my skin, otherwise freckles will pop out. Can't let my instructor down..."

Now, it actually seems virtuous to be vain in those scenarios, don't it? But then, where do we draw the line? At which point would vanity cease to be a virtue, and degenerate into a sin? Must we ever be conscious of this distinction? Is being conscious of our degree of vanity being vain? Is that good or bad?

More importantly, was my thoughts in the shower a show of virtue, or a slip of sin?

^^ Have fun figuring it out, and don't forget to tell me your answers in my tagboard. Oh, and no flaming please, I've got an email (fully equiped with junkmail protections) for that.

Adieu

Term 2, Week 1

2005-03-26T12:35:00.000+08:00

Term 2, Week 1

There really isn't much to blog about.

Basically, everything's been going well, or at least, there's been no major foul-ups. Yet. I'm looking forward to the real starting of lessons; november/december holidays plus 1 whole term of playing is enough for me. Thats nearly half a year already. Besides, getting on with lessons means seeing friends again.

I'm looking forward to making new friends too. As they always say, the more the merrier.

Things will never be the same, I know. If it's better, well then, great! If its the same, its still great. If its worse... well, too bad. At least, I'd still have my old friends to hang around with, be it better, or worse.

I've realised that 'leadership' is just another figment of imagination in our deluded worlds. There is, in reality, no such thing as a 'good leader'. So long as the members think you are, you will appear to be, but if no one likes you, you're no better than the shit they step on. Well, I'm not talking about myself, okay. I'm egotistical, but not that egotistical.

Whatever.

Orientation no. 2

2005-03-23T19:39:00.000+08:00

Orientation no. 2

It hasn't been fun at all today, that's if I'm very frank with myself. If, to judge by all the mistakes I made, not collecting the money well, forgetting about asking t-shirt size, forgetting about asking medical condition, forgetting to lead them in cheers, abandoning them to Wei Kian for ice-breakers, making them not enjoy 'The Hunt' as much as they should, not being as friendly and personable as I wanted to be, not bonding with them at all, forgetting half their names and many more uncountable things. (I wasn't even near half the day when I stopped listing the things I did badly.)

I did some things better than in O1... but not enough to justify my overall badness

I'm glad to say lotsa XMS pple comin' ta NY!

Well, none of them are actually my bestest best friends, and a couple I actually hate, but still, its good to see a couple of famliar faces. (Yes, and sometimes faeces too... but like I said, nevermind)

Talking about posting, I have this feeling inside me which urges me to go to Buona Vista Drive and punch the lights outta every freaking old man sitting behind their mouldering tables there. The posting this year, frankly, totally suks. I have this gut feeling that they only match the people to their first few choices, and then, if can't get in, just throw them to the jcs no one wants.

That kind of hypocrisy I can't stand. Yes, I'm a hypocrite too, I know, but no, I can't stand it in a freaking government agency. If they can't make the effort to give everyone literally an equal chance at the choices everyone wants, then they should just take all their self-righteous, good-for-nothing crap about meritocracy and stick it up their smelly, slimy, sweaty assholes.

Yes, and they can go piss up a rope too.

I don't give no shit about them claiming its fair. I tell you something right now. I lie and cheat my parents, and I always claim I don't. I can make excuses, say its for a good cause, a white lie, but the fact that I ever lied before brands me forever. The same should go for them.

I shouldn't be saying such negative things in my blog, but frankly, I don't give no shit. Yes, that was a double negative you saw me type, and yes, that was pathetic english. But I don't give no shit.

PAP, go to hell.

On a lightier note, I found out flying a kite, (literally, not the jumping off the building meaning) is pretty damned fun. Won't go into much detail. No need.

Sighh~ Time to go call my OG. Ahh, the troubles of being an OGL...

Sayonara.

Nope, not a blue monday

2005-03-21T18:40:00.000+08:00

Nope, not a blue monday!

Yesh, that's right. I actually enjoyed my monday. Nope, I usually don't. Yes, it means that its been a great day.

O_o'' First time for me eh?

What else could make me happier than hanging around my friends? Of course, of all my friends, I've only hung round with part of them. But yeah, those in 05A1 has become quite my maties. Like in XMS, I'm beginning to enjoy myself, as in deep in my heart, with them. Ah well, one could say that's naivete, idealism, and that friendship, like everything else in this god-forsaken world, doesn't last. But while I might entertain such thoughts at despondent times of my life, today's not one of those times.

In the way of most adolescents, we wasted time while being together, and in the way of most singaporean adolescents, we wasted money too. But well, I guess wasting money with friends is just as bad as going to shovel down a Double McSpicy burger.

Super Size Me!

Yes, its the first movie that I actually ENJOYED! O_O

Nope, that means I've never enjoyed a single movie I've watched in my life so far, but yeah, I'm wierd.

Yeah, in case you haven't noticed, I've yet to ride out the "high" I'm still on. I dunno, maybe my friends slipped in a packet of heroin into my drinks or something, but I've been quite euphoric.

Oh yes, I can feel the onset of unhappy thoughts at the back of my brain, fighting the happiness in front. Well, from countless bitter experiences, I know those thoughts will win out sooner or later, sooner if my sis comes home now, which is around the time she usually does. Later if I am able to ignore her, which is impossible.

But before those morbid thoughts set in, (along with all the sinful, guilty remonstrances to the wasting of my money) I'm going to end this entry on a happy note. I still miss those who didn't come on the outing today, but yeah, otherwise, its been perfect. Anyway, I'm going to cherish this monday. 'Cuz I know the next few ones are going to be crap.

Adios Amigos, baby!

A fun day

2005-03-17T10:24:00.000+08:00

A Fun Day

It has been a great day at sentosa. In hindsight, we did absolutely nothing worth mentioning, except for maybe the kayaking part, the rest was simply being in each other's presence and talking, savouring that moment of being together. I won't go into much detail, since there really is not much detail to go into about. Its just been great being together.

Another piece of memory to walk with me to the end of my days.

Beaches have always held a certain significance for me. I guess that's partly because I've never had much of a habit going to beaches. The few times that I did, I can remember having fun. Secondly, though I've never been religious, my closest experience to any sort of "higher being" was closely related to beaches. Its the "feeling" I guess. Nevermind if you don't understand... I don't understand it myself either. Those things I've read about footsteps in the sand... friendships and everything... well, I won't be in a hurry to forget yesterday's trip.

I can't say honestly I've been a great friend, an indispensable friend. I ask myself, would my friends' lives be any duller, any worse for my absence? And I cannot say yes. I ask myself, is my presence with them what makes their day, is my presence with them a significant part of their memories? And I cannot say yes. All I can say, I have been someone they know, someone they feel towards, yet, not someone who's made much impact.

I certainly hope I've not made our times together worse, for my presence.

I've gotta go now. Done with my reflection for the day, I guess. Seeya'll soon!

Monday Blues

2005-03-14T20:11:00.000+08:00

Monday Blues

Yes, its Monday again. Today has been fun, sort of. The OGL workshop was basically trying out everything the real Orientation would be going through... all the games in the sun, all the running about, all the cheering. Oh sure, there were the "personality talks" and "discipline talks" etc etc. But I can't shake the feeling that the OGLs (or OGL wannabes) were used as guinea pigs. Well, life's like that.

I've, again, not acheived anything of merit today. I didn't even read at all!! I did get to refresh my memory of the mass dances though... Why am I still talking about the OGL workshop...

Today's been one of the more blue-er mondays these few months. I've had fun, but I've this feeling inside of me, that tells me I'm missing out on something. Its only when I met up with those in my CT who are also in the OGL workshop that I realise the feeling springs from being away from Umoja. Its been 3 days, and I'm missing the life I've held to for three months.

Well, as Mr. Ho said, "The only constant in this ever-changing world is change." Change would overtake our lives soon enough. Nothing will ever be the same, no matter how much you wish it to be, no matter how much you think it would stay the same. No matter what you do to slow it down, or run from it, change will ever be snapping at your heels like a pack of hell hounds. Its not been a pathetic day, of course, but its not been a good day.

Auf Wiederzehn.

What a day.

2005-03-13T13:42:00.000+08:00

Sunny Sunday

What a day it has been. Its only half over and I'm quite bushed. Its my cousin's wedding, again! Well, again because only last year, my other cousin had his wedding. So far, this Sunday is staying sunny, and that's good.

Its obvious that I'm not going to be able to sit down and do any of the things I want to today. No serious reading, no serious writing, no serious studying. 'Cuz there's the dinner at the restaurant later. Which also means I've gotta do all my online stuff now, as the next time I can log on is tomorrow night. (Stupid OGL training.)

As always, whenever I am within 3 metres of my sister, there's this electric tension between us. And I had to endure sitting in the same taxi as her. Ah well, at least my mom was between us, and I could hide out with the Xbox at my cousin's house. And I'm kinda proud of myself that I didn't hit her at all today. In fact, I managed to do what I usually do, ignore her, despite the fact that she was being alittle more than abrasive today. Probably PMS. Well, its none of my business anyway.

So yeah, put that all together, and throw in the fact that I actually ate breakfast today, its been a so-far-so-good day.

Hope it lasts.

As-ta-lavista, baby.

2005-03-12T19:37:00.000+08:00

Ano hito wa kawaii desu...

A day has passed, without incident, without progress. What have I done today, I ask myself. The answer both saddens and discourages me. I've done nothing to merit worth at all.

I look at my achievements today. I realise I've learnt a new thing. Ano hito wa kawaii desu; that person is cute. I look at this blog, and I realise I've created something. I look some more, yet I find nothing else of import that I have achieved.

I've slept today, for more hours than I care to think. Is this what my holidays would be like? Sleeping and doing nothing? Stoning at home? I hope not. But the way things stand, it don't look too promising.

Oh yes, I can do plenty. I can write, I certainly have the time. I can read, I can go to the library. I can help out with housework. I can clean my room. I could have done all that, and more today. But I didn't. I was lazy. Ahh, how I wish I'd not wasted so much time... but regrets are useless. Maybe, just maybe, tomorrow might be a better day.

My blog.

2005-03-12T10:21:00.000+08:00

Oh for goodness sake.

Sometimes, I wonder if I should be thrown into a garbage unit and left there to rot. I wake up early in the morning, and when I find myself with nothing to do, I resort to making a new blog. For goodness sake.

I have no doubts I'll regret this sooner or later. I have no doubts I'll abandon this blog sooner or later. I have no doubts my life will take a turn for the worse.

Well, life sucks.

Such morbid thoughts on a saturday afternoon.