Over the Rainbow, Under the Sea

Of goodbyes and partings;

2010-08-19T18:39:00.002+08:00

*Last post*

To fall asleep was the worst-made, yet probably the best decision I ever made.

I’m barely sober now as I type this post.

But I guessed I was kind of revitalized by the 50-min crash that ensued a failed attempt at reading John Rawls (who, unfortunately, is residing on my internet browser instead of a nice, comfortable book).

As you would have guessed, I think this should be the last post in this blog; not the right time: too early to make conclusions and look back as a whole, too late to project anymore into the pragmatic future.

But still, it still will be appropriate to do some basic reflection and perhaps some (very resigned) contemplation of my future prospects.

This year, I’ve actually grown a lot (that’s what I think for most of the time anyway); I think the main change came when I decided to minorly reform my hairstyle – from sweeping my fringe to the side to leaving it at the front (don’t laugh). Somehow, I’ve become so much more self-aware I could almost term it vanity.

The content within my blogpost also differs immensely from what I wrote last year. I can now laugh at what I wrote last year; but I deleted them so that I could not humiliate myself.

I think I can say that (I’m not lying) I’ve worked at least 3 times harder than I did last year. And ten times harder than I did in primary school. I know what I want now; I worked hard for it.

But it seems I’m still not walking out of math tests with the prized confident feeling that still existed in term 1, where I got a 38/40 (which, to me, is very high).

And I actually don’t really know what to do.

These are the effects of trying to write something while being half asleep.

Let me just post 3 things I’ve written before.

By the way, looking through the literary pieces I’ve written for these blog, I’ve been in awe over the quality of them, both in a good and bad way.

***

The lethality of drugs
Is what draws the instinct of danger:
To inject for the sake of euphoria;
To consume for the sake of excitement;
The drug is like passion; narcotics
Of frenzied, crazed desire;

Of the pain, the unrequited desire and
Unrequited sacrifice;
Give for what you take of love,
Take from what you gave of sacrifice.

***

Cry;
Cry for the waves in the sea that longs for the land;
Weep for the currents that want back in the lake
The drippings in the stream that are to go out in the wild.

Cry for the aging mountains; unwillingly
Living an eternal life
Subject to the snow of summer, wind of
Winter; tears adorn its cliffs.

Cry for the fallen brown leaf;
Its crisp countenance trampled upon by
Callous passers-by
Once-upon-a-time emerald glow
Forcibly squeezed out as oozes of
Lifeless emotion;

Cry, weep for the world
Awoken in celebration in times of
Catastrophe; an indifferent apathy
That hardens their hearts.

Cry these heartless tears for me.

***

Salt sifting from the sea,
Freshwater lake a result;
Blandness of the times over the years;

Eroding the coast of memories, molding
The beach line beyond
Recognition
The sands of old,
The waves of new turbulence.

Post modernism?

On Politically Correct Answers

2010-07-26T23:30:00.001+08:00

I am writing this in spite of a need to sleep. Really. But I deduce that I should really write this now, or else I’ll never get the chance again, considering the barrage of tests approaching.

Let us consider this scenario – a very typical one. A young man dressed in a white shirt, tie and long black pants walks into a conference room, and a panel of executives look up to him. They nod at him, signaling him to sit down. After a brief introduction and protocol briefing, the job interview starts. The CEO says: “Please do not give us politically correct answers.”

Really? No politically correct answers?

Should you be the young man, dare you not say that you were definitely more inclined to give safe (i.e. politically correct) answers to every question posed?

Should you be the CEO, dare you not say you’d expect a proper reply, and the existence of a judging criteria in front of you simply means that unconventional answers will simply not be accepted?
While that may not have been the best example provided, my point is: that society encourages politically correct answers; that in this age of blind conformism, such answers are unavoidable. Come on, even questions have become politically correct. Ask the correct questions, don’t probe too much. Is that not a common instruction?

I have the privilege of having a parent who tutors a couple of primary school students; understanding that the PSLE is coming soon, the oral language examination training levels have intensified.

While listening to what she teaches them, and at the same time, recalling what my teachers taught me, I realized that political correctness, conformism and even stereotyped are being enforced into children at a very young age.

Let’s imagine, the picture given for the oral discussion is that of a typical Singaporean void deck. See an old lady? What would you do if you were in the picture? A typical answer would be to “help her” in whatever way possible, usually in aspects of mobility, carrying of things, et cetera.

But do the students really harbor these intentions, in spite of being taught all these?

Do they really understand what they are being taught to say?

Are we doing no more than teaching a new young generation of hypocrites and conformists?

See a group of seemingly rowdy students? Stereotype them! They are delinquents! They must study at home instead of hanging out! We must not learn from them! They are bad examples!

These are the things that we are teaching them.

So why blame them when eventually, some of them go to elite schools, and stereotype the neighborhood school students? Have these “values” not been taught to them early before?

While the starting point of this educational system is undoubtedly good-natured, the end result may instead of counter-productive. What this breeds is uncritical acceptance of stimuli; as in the case of the oral examination, it imposes onto them a set of words to be said. You do not have to think it through; you only need to regurgitate.

Conformism and apathy eventually follows. While people may become studying-machines, they no longer know what good life holds in store for them, because from young, it is grounded into them that education is the only path to success, and only if you achieve success in capitalist terms, can you live a happy life.

I oppose vehemently. I think change should come some time soon.

***

I think the night is surreal.

Whether viewed from a field, from a plane, from your window, or from inside a car, there is this certain mystery about the night sky, and this unfathomable aura about the night time atmosphere that makes it absolutely magical.

Maybe it’s the presence of the star and the moon; it inevitable invokes memories, hopes and wishes.

I’ve long desired to write something beautiful about the night; but somehow inspiration never really seems to strike; but not that my writing will be immensely beautiful and appreciated anyway.

But I will try one day; just you see.

On another note, I’ve TRIED to do some things:

1. Write pop music lyrics (yes shallow lyrics, I’m not that good yet)
2. Attempt to master Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata movement 3, which is crazily fast and… awesome, if you didn’t know
3. Attempt to master Crush on the piano (haven’t started though)

Considering it’s THIS time of the year again, maybe I’m being too ambitious.

***

The warmth in a cold winter night,
Memories of a desire-filled dream.

The chill in a burning summer afternoon,
Hauntings of a fearful past.

Numbness in a breezy Thursday evening,
Ambivalence of life; nuances of sorrow.

Ciao.

2010-07-18T09:47:00.002+08:00

Arghhhhh why was it so long ago when i last posted

and why didn't i post yesterday

but anyway:

Vulgarities

I don’t know whether to be happy or sad over the fact that since my entry to secondary school, I’ve actually come to embrace vulgarities as part of my life. I’m not going to say that I use them very too often, or anything of that sort, but I must say that I’ve made up my mind with regards to the use of vulgarities.

I think that overtly conservative people who cannot stand the use of a profanity or two in a perfect human and humane way to express one’s pain, desire or any extreme feeling, are hypocrites.

That said, I still am against the abuse of overt use of vulgarities, to the extent that it damages the beauty of the vulgarity (yes I do mean this), and renders it meaningless.

Let’s do this step by step. To be very frank I don’t know loads about vulgarities, each and every word’s etymology, and such, but I think it’s only logical that it was a product of the past that was glorified by the people of today. Contrary to internet memes like “lol”, “rofl”, and et cetera, it does not arise by the lack of words to use and laziness of the brain; rather, it is a proper word, with a proper etymology, definition and context of use.

So why do people oppose vulgarities? It’s an extremely hypocritical thing. They try to encapsulate the immorality, and all inherent badness of humanity in a single word, say f***. Then, they go on and banish it, thinking that it makes them pure people, simply because they think that when things that come out of their mouth is “pure”, they will become pure people. They assume that everything else they do, say or think, is not immoral.

These are people in denial; they refuse to accept the beauty and variety of the English language because of the refusal to accept an inherently sinful self of the human being, and hence, in a vain attempt to chuck this entire to the side and pretend to forget it, they oppose vulgarities.

I don’t think that rationalizing that vulgarities can cause hurt or disrespect to someone else is a proper justification against the use of vulgarities. The entire English dictionary can be used to insult and hurt people.

My stand on this is that vulgarities be used in appropriate context, and with proper definition. Since vulgarities have been used in great literature, of which the respective authors have used the profanity to bring out a certain emotion or theme extremely well, there is no reason why we cannot use it properly in real life. I shan’t elaborate too much here because policies of self-censorship for the sake of ACE points impede me. So go read the dictionary; you know what words to search.

As a whole, I stand for the freedom of expression. Don’t conform to societal conventions for the sake of it; say everything like you are embracing the beauty of the language itself.

However, vulgarities can also result in laziness of cognition. When there is a better, more beautiful word to use, use it. Don’t go “Wtf” every time simply because you feel like it and there’s nothing better to say; in such cases I rather you don’t say anything because it’ll only serve to regress your mental capacity.

So there.

**

In any case, yesterday was the 40-page anniversary of Anthology,etc., and it shared my birthday.

A silent night
The unheard crickets, bright
In the unseen light

An empty wind
The dense clouds, in
The weighing of a sin

A hollow heart
Pierced with a cold shard
Emotions, flowing like blood

A silent night, an empty wind;
An empty heart and a broken shard,
They’ll come back when you wake,
The elements of a new heartbreak.

THE POST

2010-07-05T22:02:00.000+08:00

Now I will talk about the middle class. Yes.

But before you go on to read this please note that this will be a very, very stereotypical piece; but generally I’m not overtly stereotypical; it is after careful evaluation that I decide that this is a safe generalization to draw – in our country at least.

The middle class I am referring to, is basically the rather large and growing community of people who have quite substantial wealth, enough to spend in high-end merchandise outlets for almost everything, enough to eat out at a restaurant almost every evening. These people generally gain wealth in quite a short period of time.

These people are the epitome of conformism and capitalism.

I will not deviate into anything else, and thus will force myself to talk about just their practices.

The thing about the middle class is that it really spends its money on whatever it desires, and a very prominent characteristic is that it .

I am fully aware that by saying that, I am insulting so many people that this can be considered flaming; but I will go on anyway.

Have you ever wondered why Singaporeans, and some other Asian countries, is so high on “tuition”? It’s the phenomenon of the capitalist middle class. They carry their practices forward from when they were not-so-rich; yet from their practices they still think themselves as existing in a higher social strata.

I have once come across a tuition center which only accepts students who can pass a certain difficult test that they will set for you upon registration. Should you fail it, out you go. We will not give you help.
I will not comment in that, because firstly you, dear reader, may be someone from that center, and there really are way too many of you out there who engage in these bourgeois practices. So see past my nuances and insinuations to read what I’m trying to get at.

It is this kind of areas that the middle class spends their money in. They buy iPhones when they have no need for them; they sustain the business of a restaurant(s) during a supposed economic downturn.

And before I go on to further insult you, I will calm down and stop here.

***

Pop music

Just in the last post, I professed my love for pop music.

But in this world, not everyone loves everything; some people hate pop music; I think they are rather hypocritical because you can’t deny that some songs actually do sound fantastic; but let’s just hear them out.

A quote from somewhere reveals all: “Pop music is like pretty people with ugly ideas”. Or something along those lines. Pop music has been criticized for being way too superficial; the lyrics are extremely superficial because they talk about love at a very superficial level, like David Archuleta’s songs, which are really all about infatuations. In comparison to a song like Don McLean’s Vincent, the lyrics really seem a tad bit ridiculous.

Next, while some songs are nice, sometimes people don’t like it because its tones are not as raw and refreshing as classical rock; not as subtle and beautiful as folk music. But I overtly generalize. Howie Day’s songs are pop rock, guitar based, and are really beautiful.

And I agree.

But let’s just consider this: music is for enjoyment. And whatever we agree, I think it deserves our respect. I mean you don’t go around being hypocritical and lambasting like Adam Lambert songs for having ridiculous lines like “what do you want from me?”, for the sake of appearing intelligent, even though you absolutely love that song?

In this day and age, people are living lives too fast, lives to superficial, to really sit down, listen, enjoy and analyze what is really good. And that’s why we have pop music – something that exploits human life. It’s for people (like myself) who like music enough to appreciate simple lyrics, and the singer’s vocals, but are living in an age without exposure to more sophisticated forms of art.

So there. A very random and rant-y post, hope you actually understand what it meant. Argh.

And finally I will append a story I wrote.

***

Sometimes we need a storm,
Sunny days on end isn’t the norm
Plants will wither, animals will die

Beautiful as the summer may roar
Spectacular as the day may soar
The clouds can’t hold it for too long
Sometimes we need a storm

The raging rain, the howling wind
The smothering seas and the turbulent lands
A catharsis, a pent-up’s release

Beautiful as the summer may roar
Spectacular as the day may soar
The clouds can’t hold it for too long
Sometimes we need a storm

***

Would you catch a fish if you threw a coin into the pond?

--

The fish supply was bad. Less than six fishermen came back with decent stocks these days; overfishing was suspected, but never really bothered about. They needed the fish; they needed to give their all, and they needed the lake to give its all.

Kars woke up, awakening to the putrid smell of vegetables.

How disgusting, he thought. It had been a week without snakehead, and all vegetables.

“Eat and go out and fish. Don’t waste your time away at home; I’m sick of carrots too. “

“Yes mum,” Kars replied, dragging his feet, yet correcting his posture immediately, eager to show his mother his energy.

Soon he lugged his rod, net, bait and string and headed off.

“Hey boy, going out to fish at this hour?” Uncle Boon asked.

“Yeah, fish are hungry in the morning,”

“I’m sure,” he grinned. “You heard of the guy who caught the 10-pounder yesterday?”

“Sure, I saw it!”

“Well, they say he caught it because he threw a gold coin in the water, attracted the monster,” Boon chuckled as he took a puff.

“Really?” Kars asked, raising his eyebrows. A gold coin?

“Well, not that it mattered; half the monster already brought him twenty more coins,”

Kars smiled and proceeded on his way.

A gold coin! What ingenuity!

He settled at his favorite spot at the lake; just around the bend near the jetty, where the water was deep, where there were no rocks to trap the hook, to break the string like a never-ending, cold hard labyrinth.

That too was where he once caught his largest: a seven-pound snakehead. And he never forgot it.

He got the bait on, set the line, the sinker, aimed to his left, and cast the line, into the distance, into the dreamy, ominous mist. Often he would hear the sound of water, and imagine if he would strike a fish right after the hook landed on the far end of the crystalline gem. And with these thoughts he would allow himself to dream on, and it would distract him till a tug was felt.

But that day the tug never came.

And this was something he couldn’t accept anymore – especially after so long of poor catches; only schools of small fish wouldn’t satisfy mother and cure father’s illness.

He thought of his father’s gaunt face.

And then he remembered his mother’s…

Was there nothing he could do to get a good one, just one, just for once, one chance?

“caught it because he threw a gold coin in the water, attracted the monster…”

A ripple appeared on the water as he looked up, eyes brightening. But he looked down again, caught in painful indecision.

Could he afford to sacrifice the only gold coin he’d receive in a week?

But unconsciously his left hand reached down to that familiar ragged pocket, filled with stones, and found underneath the jagged pile, a shiny coin.

He saw his face in it and stared into it, dazed.

And he threw it like he’d always threw the dart, with such precision, such accuracy, such hope.

With a plonk it landed in the water, as the splashes created ripple after ripple; after which the water was silent again.

Kars watched the rod in feverish anticipation; he waited, longed, and prayed for the tug, the magical tug, the sign of a bite. Just one slight pull, one molecule of movement, and he would be on it.

The succeeding lunge almost threw Kars off his feet. The rod nearly slipped out of his grip as he instantaneously turned into battle mode; he the warrior, the fish the enemy.

He pulled and pulled; the string grazed a cut on his fingers. He heard tweaks and scary snapping sounds on the rod. Kars worked the fish as the fish worked him out. It never seemed to tire while he was already feeling the strain in his shoulders.
His slippers gripped the soily and stony ground as he teetered on the edge of the pond.

It was amazing yet terrifying at the same time; thrill swept through him like an electric current, feeding him rushes of energy, of excitement; yet at the same time threatened to throw him off course.

How can I? How can I give up a gold coin and let it go like this?

With renewed vigor he give another large tug, and for once he saw the fish.

It was indescribably huge; the heaving, callous morning mist failed to conceal it.

And with every endeavor, Kars, brought it closer; with every breath, it was harder to believe.

In his mind, there was nothing else.

The fish. The fish.

**

It was finally up. With a final heave Kars pulled the dead tired fish from the water. He fell back in exhaustion.

The colossal giant struggled to get its grand body to flip; to get a muscle to twitch; to flee for its life. Its scales shimmered as its breathing struggles were almost clearly audible.

Lying on the mud, at the corner of his eye, Kars saw his prize; its yellow eye outshone its gigantic torso; it was glimmering, shining, large and smooth; it was as bright at the sun, as perfect as the moon, shining like a golden coin.

2010-06-27T19:54:00.000+08:00

Since it’s the last days of the holidays, I want to do something less serious.

So even though I’ve already done my post on the practices of the middle class, you won’t see it now. I’m going to talk about music – looking at songs which I like.

So here they are, in no particular order…

Collide – Howie Day

Whataya Want From Me – Adam Lambert

Crush – David Archuleta

Touch My Hand – David Archuleta

A little too not over you – David Archuleta

Somebody out there – David Archuleta

She Says – Howie Day

For Your Entertainment – Adam Lambert

If I had You – Adam Lambert

No Boundaries – Adam Lambert

Time For Miracles – Adam Lambert

Heartless – Kris Allen

And many others that I don’t have the time to talk about.

So let’s start.

Collide:

A beautiful song – one of the best ever released this decade. The lyrics are one thing, the music is one. I’ve got a couple of favourite lines in there:

“I found I’m scared to know I’m always on your mind;

Even the best fall down some times,
Even the stars refuse to shine,
Out of the back you fall in time,
You somehow find,
You and I, collide.”

My favourite line – “Even the stars refuse to shine”. I think it’s absolutely beautiful.

And the music – the tone is simply perfect. Matched with Day’s pure voice and extremely comfortable transitions to falsetto, the song is a phenomenon.
Whataya Want From Me:

My favourite song from Lambert, a favourite artist. The song epitomizes his personality and sheer dynamicism – from slightly slow and mellow tones to his trademark high and powerful notes. The lyrics aren’t too bad too – they do reflect the dilemmas and emotions of a homosexual artist in a rather homophobic consumer world.

Crush:

Even though Archuleta’s fame rose quite a while ago, I admit I’ve only recently picked up his songs. And I don’t regret it, because I believe he really is a great, young talented singer. I shan’t talk too much about the lyrics, which are entirely about teenage love and infatuation; but rather he uses his voice to completely hammer his message in; no one would not empathize. This song is also one he showcases his wonderful falsetto – in the chorus, the parts he breaks into his falsetto are magical.

Touch My Hand:

The next highest charted song of Archie’s, after Crush. Lyrics are once again about a painful desire and infatuation to connect with someone he sees during a concert. In this case, he exploits his awesome falsetto again; in the chorus, he uses it to show the painful desire by using his falsetto to sing “It’ll all be over and I’ll never get the chance again”. It is painfully ironic that this song is in such a cheerful major key; yet it is this use of the major key that really gives it the touch of desire and pain that is written in the lyrics.

And one epic moment in the song – when Archie hits a 2-bar long high note with his falsetto, as the climax of a build-up after his second chorus. It’s… indescribable!

A little too not over you:

A song I was surprised did not garner better results. It is perfect for Archie to sing – with long notes that he can win us over with his delightfully strained voice and magical falsetto.

Somebody out there:

Yes it’s another Archie song. I absolutely love the guitar in the background! And the chorus is… painfully beautiful. Especially when he goes “I’d give anything if only you knew it was me,” it never fails to make me tear a bit.

She Says:

Lyrics typically of Day – rooted in a relationship. It’s quite saddening, and once again it’s smooth voice and smooth and wonderful transition to falsetto that wins me over.
For Your Entertainment:

A powerful song with bondage(?) themed lyrics, by Lambert, for which he gave a rather controversial performance… but I shan’t talk too much about that. In any case, the tune is addictively catchy, and the chorus is so powerful and infective that it never fails to make you want to sing or move along. Once again Lambert exhibits his sheer vocal power.

If I Had You:

A song with a highly infective dose of energy! The drums at the star bring you right in the beat, and he starts the song fast. The tune is catchy, and Lambert is always smiling substantially when he sings this song. And I like the lyrics – happiness comes from love, instead of “money, fame and fortune”!

No Boundaries:

A song criticized for being overtly filled with clichés, and of which I agree, Lambert manages to garner some praises for his version, while Kris Allen doesn’t get anything. With his explosive vocals, he transforms this into a powerful ballad that never fails to blow me away, especially at the high parts.

Time For Miracles:

At the start, it seems like a slow song, but at the climax, the high, strong notes that Lambert belts out effortlessly are absolutely mind-blowing. His voice is almost synonymous with the electric guitar at that time, and that’s how powerful it is.

Heartless (Kris Allen cover):

A song I considerably liked, and I included it to talk about Allen’s ability to do amazing covers. This was a phenomenal cover: a lot better than Kanye West’s original rapped version. The musical rendition of the rapped parts conveys the heartbreak emotion a lot better than the original version. Allen’s cover of OneRepublic’s Apologize is also wonderful; it managed to hit me right in the heart.

These are definitely not the only songs I like; there are a few others, including those that are still done by Lambert, Day and Archuleta, of whom you would have seen by now, are my favourite artistes.

And tomorrow, all hell will resume.

So tonight I will drown myself in music before darkness in a world of silence can scream out at me again.

**

Mitch Albom (2009)

Have a Little faith

"Now, that child," he said, "reminds me of something that our sages taught. When a baby comes into the world, its hands are clenched, right? Like this?"

He made a fist.

"Why? Because a baby, not knowing any better, wants to grab everything, to say, 'The while world is mine.'

"But when an old person dies, how does he do so? With his hands open. Why? Because he has learned the lesson."

What lesson? I asked.

He stretched open his empty fingers.

"We can take nothing with us."

**

Stars refusing to shine tonight,
Apparitions in the flickering darkness of light;

Silent screams heralding an arrival,
Reincarnation of a long lost survival;

Unseen tears falling from the lone bird that flies,
Unheard words embracing a lost goodbye.

Capitalism

2010-06-24T17:29:00.002+08:00

From most of you who have heard from me, you would have heard about the hypocrite that I am: buying things while telling you how much I am against capitalism.

I can only tell you: my stance hasn’t changed, and it isn’t my preference that I have to engage in capitalist transactions. Except, I don’t go overtly bourgeois: I don’t buy iPhones, eat dessert with every meal, get a drink every meal, spend substantial amounts every time I go out, and do everything fun and thrilling that you think of. My stance is that: since I am against capitalism, and in the short term nothing much can be done since there are quite a substantial amount of people who find quite some joy in stuffing money up a certain body part, I can only ensure that I don’t promote the practice, and that I don’t exacerbate the condition of those suffering the negative effects of capitalism.

What an excessive preamble. Let me now list my contentions with capitalism; but I will now make it clear that this post will be divided into 2 parts to be published separately; in this one I will attack capitalism as a whole; in the next I will lambaste and make fun of the practices of the burgeoning middle class.

My contentions with capitalism are as such:

• Money is not real joy.
• While some may enjoy, many others suffer.
• There is poor justification; “survival of the best” is an utterly fallacious excuse.

Well I can’t seem to list the whole lot of them off my head now, so I’ll just start the rant, and let you pick up some of them along the way.

Now let us just examine the invention of money. I once read somewhere that money was something that “increased convenience” – in the short term, and in a narrow scope – definitely. Definitely better than barter trade, when you have to bring a cow along and carry an entire cartload of squawking chickens back.

But what’s the problem here?

You see, there comes a point when human intelligence goes so high, it suddenly starts regressing; it appears to be progressing, but in reality, it regresses. The invention of money is the perfect example of this regression.

Our brains figured out a way to solve the problem of inconvenience – money. But then, our brain became sick and tired of having things that continually run in our direction, continually allow us to succeed – that we had to think of something that will, most of the time, run away from us, make life more fun, and make life more excruciating for others.

We find happiness in that.

It is money we find happiness in, and it’s our own sanity, our own happiness we’re playing in. Dare you claim that a hard, callous coin and a wrinkled, moldy note can give you happiness?

Well some people say yes. Most people do.

And that’s a problem. Happiness does not exist in taking; it exists in giving, in doing things that you love.

But before you rebut me, let’s just go analyze why money makes people happy.

What does money do for you?

You use it to buy stuff, duh. But beyond our primary needs, people splurge on eye candy like jewelry, good but useless food, and a lot of other useless things. Apparently, you find happiness in this. Look at a member of the middle class in Singapore – someone getting richer by the day. She (sorry) goes into a Prada outlet, buys a fur coat, goes somewhere else, splurges on more stuff – she’s missing the question – will she still be happy 50 years down the road? On a rocking chair, unable to move anywhere, only able to sit by the window of your mansion, will be putting on that leather coat, stroking it with the same endearance, and thinking that you’ll die with no regrets? On your deathbed, will your last words be about regrets for not getting any new branded stuff?

Rhetorical – but I’m going to answer it – NO.

That’s why I’m quite hesitant to progress forward in the education system of today. More than enough people tell us, that money is important, hence study well, then get a good job, live a happy life. Well ignoring the fallacy here, most people will agree with this line of logic, and go on studying hard like hell, and get really good grades – but what they become still remains to be seen.

But for a while let’s just assume that they do take up a rich job.

Will he be happy?

I don’t know. Maybe he is.

All that I know is that I won’t be – if I’m not for that job.

Becoming a doctor is something that all too many people want to become – I’ll be frank, I’ve thought about it, people have told me about it, I’ve considered it, but I only have something to say – if I’m not a sciences person, yet I’m forced into medical practice, I won’t enjoy a single bit of it.

At this point, I’m very liable to deviate into conformism, something I’m very much against too, so I’ll stop here, and round up about this point.

My point is, stop being blinded by the capitalist environment around us. Find in your heart, what you really want to do, instead of following what has been load out for you.

Listen, the heart does beat.

**

End of part one, now I’ll go one talking about the negative effects of capitalism.

Now people have always talked about how capitalism increases people’s competency, because it is something that advocates the survival of the strongest.

I will fly into a rage and scream that there was NEVER EVER A LEVEL PLAYING FIELD IN THE FIRST BLOODY PLACE.

Will thou survive in the African wilderness if I throw you there with nothing but a photo of George Bush?

Survival of the strongest, yes?

Those who give the argument live in a vacuum. MSG 1.00, strongest of the pack. Monthly salary >10K, strongest of the pack. Bulldefecation, people. Bulldefecation.

Why degrade and discriminate against the poor and “weak” in other countries, when in the first place, there was never a level playing field, and you were never once better than them? Capitalism is something that advocates the continued exploitation of the poor; the rich continues getting richer and fatter, while the poor continues working hard to no avail. This is a system that will continue breeding spoilt brats of the burgeoning, richening middle class.

While you buy another dessert, someone dies at your doorstep.

Think again before you spend.

I guess that pretty much all I can afford to release here. The next part on practices of the middle class awaits.

**

A summer solstice of memories
The longing sun, the creeping darkness
A fading shade, of the growing softness.

**

Fire rainbows

A flaming mirage
High in the sky
As bright as the sun
As sweet as a lie

**

If I feel like it, I will post a short story in the next blog post.

Anthology, etc..docx

2010-06-18T22:51:00.002+08:00

And today, I celebrate the 20 page anniversary of probably the most random document in the universe.

Well, maybe not.

25 days ago I decided I was very much fed up after losing intelligent sparks of inspiration that hit me in the bus, train or bathe. Some of them stayed with me, but I still mourn the millions that were lost from me; forever gone; even if I do recover them, I wouldn't know since I already forgot about what they were.

And so, I created this document.

The first piece of inspiration that struck me when I created this document was of a poem, which I started on immediately, and so I named it "Anthology". I realized there was going to be a lot more in there than poems, and so I added that etc..

It's been with me for a while; in times of melancholy, of joy, of excitement, of sheer randomness, I would open the document and pen something down. It's been a celebration of my idiosyncrasies; and watching it grow faster than any other document that I've casually kept has been a joy

and so, here goes:

20-page anniversary: 18 June, 2010

A Friday

10.41pm

9 complete poems [still-in-editing]

2 half complete poems

1 pseudo-poem

16 bites of inspiration

2 URLs

2 musings

9 chunks of text

2 blog posts

2 short stories [still-in-editing]

1 just-started story

And this will be the 20 page anniversary; 25 days since I last created the document

Analogies

Getting a desert when you’re hungry

Is like having an illicit sexual affair

The fast relief, the pleasure after desire

The passion burns like fire

But the painful voidness

And pestering guilt

Nibble at your edge

Eating high calorie foods

Is like striking the lottery

The sheer enjoyment, the dramatic happiness

The sadistic mocking

Of other’s jealousness

But you take too much

And others take from you

The problem with my poems remain as such: they have NO structure, no meter. I am a complete free-verse poet . And I have no shame in admitting: I have close to zero knowledge on the area of structure. Well, to name some famous simple ones I can tell you about haikus, sonnets, villanelles, and so on, and I can NAME the iambic pentameter, the double iamb, and so on, but I really know nothing about meter.

Well, close to nothing.

the only form of "meter"/"structure" I follow is my own gut feeling of the stresses. If my heart tells me, an extra syllable is needed, I'll add one; sometimes I don't even bother. And I hope you would have realized that following your own gut isn't very reliable.

from my poems, I see that I sometimes exude the characteristics of an imagist - at least to the aspect of favoring imagery. I'm quite content with that, because I admire imagists: they are able (well the better ones) to infuse seamlessly images into their poems, and arouse our feelings and draw various interpretations and reactions from the particularly use of images. the effect is quite magical. well look at this:

Ezra Pound (1913)

IN A STATION OF THE METRO

The apparition of these faces in the crowd ;

Petals on a wet, black bough.

2 lines. the wonder.

Daryl's Dilemma

2010-06-16T23:52:00.002+08:00

I am annoyed at how long the history of human intelligence has been. Because it is almost impossible to present a brilliant idea as an original one.

But nonetheless.

Let me present to you: Daryl’s dilemma.

I will be using Daryl’s dilemma to present to you another problem associated with internet social networking sites, but of course, first I will present to you a real story on how the name for this phenomenon was picked.

One fine day, Daryl woke up. He reads an SMS from a friend reminding him to come for a meeting.

“holy s- cow” he goes because he had no idea it was today.

He needs to find a convenient excuse and tell the meeting chairman about the problem.

So he deliberates – through facebook/email, or face to face conversation?

Hence – the Daryl’s Dilemma.

The internet gives an alternative – an alternative to face-to-face conversation and communication, and it is from this alternative that all problems spring up. It is such a very much convenient alternative, people start to:

1. Hide behind this façade for convenient/fun/random/scamming purposes

2. Overtly depend on this alternative such that it no longer is an alternative; it has become the convention

Hence very obviously you can see problems popping up.

The obvious question now is: is this alternative a good thing?

But is it necessarily a bad thing?

Very sadly, I am unable to provide an answer, whatever levels of analysis I try to give, partly because I enjoy using the internet, I am using the internet, and even if damage had been done to me, I can’t feel it.

All I do know, is that superficially, the Daryl dilemma presents something: that we can really hide behind the internet, hide in this hole, yet still pretend to be seen. We can throw carrots and mushrooms out of this hole, yelling our lungs out, and make people think that we planted those things.

And yes, now I hesitate to call the internet an alternative – perhaps it is wholly mainstream, when people are expressing their love their, and when scores of people can go up there and post something on facebook like “if you like this status I will post something on your wall I like about you”.

Can we not do it in real life? Granted we need to feel loved, but… seriously, people.

Earphones on a lonely train

The effervescent music blasting in my hollow ears

The wheels chugging, the passengers coughing

No one hears

I fix in my earphones and

Zone out into lonely land

A love song’s playing and

Oh can I feel your hand

The lyrics sound, the music plays

To the melody my psyche sways

As unstable as you’ve told

Oh I never knew you were hot and cold

The next song plays, it’s all about you

And soon does your face come into view

I fix in my earphones and

Zone out into lonely land

A love song’s playing and

Oh can I feel your hand

The last part from one of my texts, which I will reveal soon, after at perfecting it:

The slap that stung onto the left side of my face demolished me; it ended the pain, the heartbreak, the confusion, and I fell back onto the ground, silent, unable to make a sound.

“You think you do. And, oh god, I thought I did too. But I don’t. I just don’t.”

“Wait-” I mustered enough energy to make a sound, but it was only audible to me.

When I looked up, there was only the night sky, the threatening trees, the menacing darkness.

The swaying trees seemed to be taunting me; the smeary clouds seemed to run away from me; the wind tried to blow me away; the callous moon showed no emotion.

And the stars refused to shine.

2010-06-14T20:33:00.000+08:00

Does the most beautiful, most touching, most heartbreaking pieces of literature not come from infatuations, from heartbreaks arising from unrequited love?

We’ve often heard too much about how true love comes after infatuation fades; how the sensation is different from one that of constant ecstasy, desire, fantasy and melancholy, to that of one just of peace; something where you can stand by that person, and not have your heart beating all the time, yet still know that you long to hold the person, to tell the person something, and that you cherish memories and that you anticipate times to come with the person.

While the latter seems a lot more idealistic, a lot better, it is the former that garners more attraction.

Do poets and songwriters not talk about their love in the forms of infatuations, and unrequited love arising from crushes, where it is impossible to forget every smile, every word that you hear, every breathe that you pick and every moment that you spend?

Isn’t it a whole lot more thrilling than having a “stable” love relationship?

And isn’t infatuation a stage everyone goes through?

While not to deny, there have been pieces of poetry that attempt to draw allusions to the “real” love, I find their efforts to reach out to the depths and true complications and emotions of love, and draw away from the whines and cries of crushes, utterly superficial.

There was once an effort to draw a juxtaposition between Robert Burn’s “my love is like a red red rose” and some other poem talking about true love. I can’t remember what it is, except that it drew references to imagery like the sea, sand, and whatnot. Let us not comment on the poor commentary and analysis and instead focus on the poems itself and derive out own opinions and interpretation.

Which one are you more likely to empathize with?

Unless you’re a cyborg, your answer to that rhetorical question MUST be Burn’s poem.

It is impossible for you to connect with something that talks about something that you have NOT experienced, over things like puppy love, heartbreak, unrequited love, no matter how “superficial” we may brand it to be.

And this is something that songs exploit. They talk excessively about unrequited love and heartbreak; list me one sad song that is not about the above (well removing the songs about death and musical eulogies from our consideration).

(well I’ve been trying to write prose and poetry about unrequited love and heartbreak; but I think nothings beats the real experience itself; there’s a reason why only more mature people can succeed in touching our hearts.)

And that’s the reason why my heart got struck by Kris Allen’s cover of Apologize yesterday.

And that’s why his version of Heartless is so heartbreaking, why Check Yes Juliet is so rebel-making, high and ecstasy-filled; why Collide is one of the best songs ever, why we all love to self-indulge in a piece of love every time, knowing deep in our hearts that we are still human despite buying iPhones when people on the other face of the globe, or rather right at your doorstep, are dying.

And boy is writing hopeful love stories hard when you’ve listened to and written so much heartbreak.

**

I don’t know how long I’ve been waiting.

The moon’s perfect, brighter than light, rounder than itself, smoother than thy skin, paler than hopelessness.

The stars are shining down on us, like a million shattered fragments of beautiful gems, of precious shrapnel, yet piercing of shattered hope.

It’s the breeze we’re missing; the once silently, romantically enthusiastic gale that would once blow across our warm supple faces as we looked on in the horizon, confident the sun would never rise again.

But tonight it isn’t here; perhaps you’ve taken the wind with you, for me to silently suffer or enjoy this callous solitude.

But I’ll stay on to wait, just in case.

2010-06-14T10:15:00.001+08:00

Midnight train home

The darkness of the lighting all but fades
The whirring of the fan all but recedes
The chugging of the wheel all but dissolves

The drowsy silence all but breaks
The stable glass all but stays
The sturdy windows all but shatter

The passenger stays

The virginity of the night all but breaks
From the penetration of the dawn
The callous mist all but wanes
From the thrusting of sunlight

The beating of the heart all but stops

2010-05-31T21:10:00.001+08:00

I am not a terribly consistent blogger.

**

Blue is the sky
Green is the leaf
Red is an apple
White is a wide emptiness,
Filling all our hearts.

The sky can be black
The sea can be green

Orange is the fruit we eat
Purple a beautiful violet,
Yellow the brilliant sun

An orange can be green
Beautiful flowers
A psychedelic red
The sun roars a blinding magenta
Purple dyes the grass

Our blood is red

Our heart an azure blue
Pumping blood of glowing yellow
Our bones a mysterious purple
Our skin a serene green
Our eyes a subtle orange
We are the pot of gold, found

At the bottom of the rainbow

**

An unconventional poem I attempted - to advocate non-conformism (I hope it can be seen!)

2010-05-26T08:40:00.002+08:00

Home learning - poetry analysis

Hey this is quite a fun and refreshing exercise - modern war poems!

I will be giving brief analyses all all three poems, but I'll go in depth on the first one.

**

We Slept With Our Boots On

They unloaded the dead and maimed right before our eyes
They washed out the blood, we loaded our ruck’s and then took to the skies
Over the mountains, villages, and valleys we flew
Where we would land we had not a clue
Bullets are flying, the LZ is hot
We’re leaving this bird whether we like it or not
30 seconds they yelled, Lock N Load and grab your shit
Get ready to go and make it quick
My heart is pumping adrenalin through all of my veins
I run as fast as I can through the lead rain
The noise is tremendous, terror I can’t define
The only reason I survived that day was divine
I kept pulling the trigger and reloading and pulling some more
You do what you have to do, with that I will say no more
We fought from the valleys to the mountain peaks
From house to cave, to car to creek
Dirty and tired and hungry and scared
We slept with our boots on so we were always prepared
Those majestic mountains so steep, so high they kiss the skies
The Hindu Kush has changed so many lives
Up the mountains with heavy loads we trod
Who knew hell was so close to God
Beauty and terror are a strong mixed drink
So we drank it like drunkards and tried not to think
Good men and bad men, Mothers lost son’s
Everyone loses their innocence when they carry guns
Washed in the blood, and baptized by fire
I will never forget those who were called higher
They say blood is thicker than water, well lead is thicker than blood
Brothers aren’t born they’re earned. In the poppy fields, the tears, and the mud
And when I get to heaven to Saint Peter I will tell
Another Paratrooper reporting for duty sir, I spent my time in hell
A very realistic portrayal of a typical combat situation of a soldier – with some deviation into (in fact the focus being) the emotional conflicts of the soldier, in which he ponders what he had lived his life for, and what became of human relations in war.

The first line brings us right into the combat situation, and immediately a factor of shock is brought into the picture when morbid terms like “dead” and “maimed” are used; however in the next line, the immediacy in which the soldiers return to combat tells the reader that such images of death and morbidity are more than common.

The use of army jargon and slang, as in “LZ”, “this bird”, “Lock N Load” and “grab your shit” brings us straight into shoes of a soldier. Throughout the poem, there are little concrete evidences of humanity, of emotion. The use of sentences like “I kept pulling the trigger and reloading and pulling some more” even gives us a hint that the persona may well be a mercenary killing machine. But, subsequently, humanity is slowly introduced with religious (God, hell), societal (Mothers lost son’s) and practical (kiss), as well as other humanely recognizable references slowly tell us that the persona is still human. He gives it all away with the introduction of human emotions that would definitely arise from war: “Dirty and tired and hungry and scared”, and also speaks about how “Everyone loses their innocence when they carry guns”, and this ultimately shows his prevalent emotional conflicts within himself as he brings himself onwards to continue fighting. He questions the entire purpose idea of war, when he raises ideas of losing loved ones: “Mothers lost son’s”, conflict between the brotherhood of humans: “They say blood is thicker than water, well lead is thicker than blood”, and finally he seems to concede his imminent death, but still at that point does not give us his criticism of war. He admits to being a demonic soldier during life, spending his life in the hell-like mess of constant war. He ends with these ironic lines for maximum impact: “And when I get to heaven to Saint Peter I will tell
Another Paratrooper reporting for duty sir, I spent my time in hell”. This attacks the idea of the sanctity of war. Will you still be able to go to heaven, as per Christian belief, if you kill an opponent on the battlefield? Or is war simply a brutal, mercenary act glorified and justified by the government? Ironically, even if he does, he had already spent his life in hell.

Point of view: A soldier's

This POV brings us straight into the shoes of a soldier, and immediately, right at the start, we are thrown into an atmosphere of craziness. The poet uses this POV well - he uses army jargon and slang, and portrayals of the battle scene to present to us a realistic picture of the battlefield.

Right at the start - he brings to us the imagery of the dead and maimed, and the way he dealt with it - "They washed out the blood, we loaded our ruck’s and then took to the skies" - tells us that this is all too common for him. Immediately we can tell he is definitely not a rookie; rather the point of view fits in better should he be a veteran. A war-hardened, emotionless veteran then? Evidence tells us otherwise - he shows signs of human fear - "Where we would land we had not a clue", "The noise is tremendous, terror I can’t define", "Dirty and tired and hungry and scared".

Setting: superficially, war. but the real setting here is the war-like emotional conflict in the persona's psyche

Language: There is use of army jargon and slang, as mentioned earlier, to paint a more realistic picture. The diction, and the relation between each line seems to be minimal; an issue is only dealt with for about 2 lines, and coupled with an almost non-existent structure, this gives us a sense of messiness, of mass destruction. Some religious and societal references also give us an insight into his emotions.

Personal response: This poem invoked in me empathy - I don't really know a whole lot about war, but now I've seen into the emotions of this soldier. the image portrayed of a soldier in conventional media (which in fact corresponds to the start of this poem), of a heartless killing machine, celebrating death, etc., is juxtaposed with the humane reactions and psyche of a real soldier involved in a real war.

**
Rainbow Death

America did not foresee
Green, pink, purple and other colors death potpourri!
Expecting others to pay a high price.
Now thinking twice?
Toll on the innocent and unborn.

Omnipotent and disregarding who will mourn.
Reflective about all the illness, birth defects and prematurely dead.
All the deceit continues to spread.
Nefariously America led astray -
Generations untold WILL pay -
Execrable effects of agent orange spray!

The title itself says something – a rainbow is generally not associated with death. In the second line, it brings out colors once again, and the list of colors reveal to us that the poet was making a reference to the rainbow herbicidal warfare in the Vietnam war. At the end of this line, it uses the word “potpourri” – making it even more ironic since a potpourri is supposed to be a decorative, ornamental and pleasant smelling object.

The conflict portrayed here explains how war can bring pain and long term suffering to both soldiers and civilians, dragging far beyond the first generation.

**

Children in the darkness

There are children in the darkness
Who have not seen the light
There are children in the darkness
Who someone will teach to fight

Chalk and blackboards will not be
To this door there is no key
From this life they can not flee
And these children are not free

Could we simply light a candle
Could we give them half a chance
Could we teach them how to read
Could we teach them how to dance

Or will a war consume them
Their body and their soul
Will their life and blood be poured
Down some endless thirsty hole

Back into the darkness
From which there is no flight
Back into the darkness
Into which there shines no light

This poems shows a seemingly inevitable, yet cruel aspect of war – child labor. The image we get from children – young, cheerful, bright, is juxtaposed with phrases like “darkness”, “fight”, “war”, “blood”.

The presence of children in war has almost become a banality recently – when adults are scarce, there are no other alternatives. Not only, that, children are exploited – the military exploits them without keeping any long term ramifications in mind – how these children are never given a proper education, how they might perceive violence and death as a normal part of their lives – what will happen to the future generation?

The poet is gives a pessimistic answer to that question. In the third stanza he offers simple, plausible solutions to the plight that he painted in the first 2 stanzas, yet in the last 2 stanzas, he concedes that all cannot be helped – to satiate the bloodlust of politicians and war-crazed, brainwashed war machines; children will continue to be exploited.

2010-05-24T22:30:00.002+08:00

A quiet, lonely depart you wanted
A feeling of solitude I gave
Or is it just me

I turn up at your leaving
Hiding in a corner
Why do I feel
The crowd disturbing the peace,
Fear in your eyes
Or is it just me

The bag falls from your shoulder
The trolley wheels away
I worry that you’ll turn and see me
Burst into tears
The flower vase breaking
Stars refusing to shine
Tragedy in the making
Or is it just me

Cars cruise on the highway
A resounding silence reigns
I can’t bear to see anymore
To hear anymore
Are your tears permeating my heart
Are shooting stars falling on me
Is the wind taking me off my feet
Or is it just me;

I look out of the window
The stars finally shine
But the moon steals the glory bright
While I look up to find your flight.

***

A little poem I wrote, and still is in the midst of editing (probably lots of stupid mistakes and amusing glaring poetic errors that I'll laugh at and most likely I'll take it down before many people read it so that little damage is done to my ego)

So with this I return to blogging - a slightly more mature person, I'd say. But every time I think I'm mature, and I just have to wait for 2 months, and look back, and I see myself as immature again.

such is the change that we have to adapt to

2010-03-09T22:32:00.002+08:00

recently I've created another joke:

In public transports, they ban food and drinks; now they ban plain water and sweets. through logical extension, the next thing they should ban are passengers, because they might spit and defecate and do all sorts of dirty things in the bus and dirty it, and that's what we don't want!!

:D

last weekend I went for MUN; it was quite fun, but i guess something i have to learn is that i have to take a more diplomatic approach. i was way too aggressive during the debates; i've come up with a new policy that i will try to adopt:

1) Don't sound way too enraged

2) With every "untrue", or "unfeasible" that you assert, make sure you follow it up with a positive note, like a suggestion, or an encouragement.

and i think that should be good as a first step to propel me towards being a more diplomatic person.

other than that, some interesting things that happened:

1) managed to pass at least 2 amendments to others' resolution with an overwhelming majority

2) managed to sway the house to fail an amendment (sorry!)

3) we had pizza!

4) managed to speak at least 10 times (definitely more than that)

5) passed my resolution with a unanimous vote!!

i hope that i do have a chance to take part in more challenging MUNs next time to push my limits with regards to my knowledge of the humanities and general knowledge, as well as the ability to react well in the real world.

__________________________________________

confidence is a big problem these days.

the more the better?

i do know of someone who has so much confidence that he literally floats; albeit in his own world. he believes in his own skills so much, that even though they may not be real and substantial, in his delusional world, he is always the best.

I am worried for him, because when he does fall down one day, which i predict he will, he will feel the hit especially hard. Even if the failure is not major, the resonance of the shock back into reality may just be enough to drive him... crazy for a while.

it's good to have confidence, but when we are living in a delusion, it's time to take a break from it.

get a reality check, because since you're so confident, means you're confident that you'll beat others, means that you believe that this world is real with other people, means that you're not a solipsist, means that you principally accept this world to be substantial and real.

so get down to the real world.

2010-03-02T11:44:00.002+08:00

I apologise for not posting up my learning profile in the previous post.

1) Linguistic

2) Intrapersonal

3) Interpersonal

4) Naturalistic

5) Musical

6) Logical

7) Spatial/Visual

8) Kinesthetic

I'm not very sure about the reliability of this test, although I do have to agree how it provides a much better a fresher insight into the supposed IQ. it is definitely better than basing our intelligence on a test that... makes no sense.

However this test can be twisted by dishonest answers - we cannot deny.

I think it all lies with ourselves - if we think this is reliable, this could even be a career guidance sheet. Perhaps if we're good as aspects like logical, math, we could be a scientist or mathematician or some researcher. If you ask me, I'm unsure about the result. True that I'm not extremely good in the kinesthetic area, and also true that I have a greater interest in the language area. For the intrapersoanl area, I guess I do understand myself well. Interpersonal? That you've got to ask people around me.

Personally I think all of these are supposed to be long term - had we been able to determine what traits we had in a simple test we would no longer beed to go to school! We have to see in the long term which areas are good for development in us. But that, too, is the bad thing about it. We may or may not make good decisions in the short term that will benefit us in the long term.

Human Nature

2010-03-02T10:25:00.002+08:00

This is a post for home learning.

I've chosen to write two tasks - linguistic and intrapersonal, considering how they both scored high in my personality test.

For the linguistic aspect I've chosen to write a speech. This speech is delivered by Atticus, and I've chosen to hand-write it - apologies but my typing is simply way too slow and erroneous - and I've uploaded it to the IVLE workbin.

For the intrapersonal aspect, here is my work:

a) Who would you like to be friends with in the novel? Explain.

I would like to be friends with Atticus. His charisma as well as how well he carries himself despite disapproval of his defence of a black man earns my respect. There are quite a few questions I would like to ask him, such as: What keeps you going despite the strong criticism from others in society? what future do you see for Maycomb? Looking at how wise he is, it is definitely good to get a couple of his insights.

b) I would, too, like to act as Atticus in a play. Personally, I'm not a very conforming person, challenging certain "ideals" whenever possible; this is somewhat similar to Atticus' attitude - he defies societal ideals of discrimination against blacks and continues his defence of Tom Robinson in the face of condemnation from others. Furthermore, he also does not bow down easily to Alexandra's wishes for Scout to become a true lady. I shall be frank; there is also this certain positive attitude that people will look at you with when you play this respectable character who dared defy convention.

c) I'm going to write a diary entry for Jem.

Dear diary,

I feel betrayed by justice. that's all I can say.

today I've been so profoundly affected by the outcome of the trial that O can barely think or eat or sleep - hence the late hour now and I'm still writing in you. it was a case of the clearly innocent being convicted and the blatantly lying prosecutor getting away with it. i know its the racial prejudice that is prevalent in this place - but i simply cannot accept this. this is allowing pressure from our prejudice to change the outcome of a fair judgment - at the risk of an innocent human being executed!

i may seem to be exaggerating thing, but i simply cannot take this.

law is supposed to uphold justice, but today it has done the exact opposite.

perhaps this is why boo radley went into seclusion - the world is simply too evil.

_____________________________________

Having done this assignment, I think it is imperative that I come to a conclusion.

we may all feel outraged at how white americans may have a prejudice towards blacks, but we have to consider it on the other side - why is there prejudice? what is the rationale?

we must understand that it is inherently human nature - animal nature, in fact that we feel a certain sense of "difference" from another race - not that we are different from them, but rather they are different from us. racism is not just observed humans, but rather in all animals; birds chasing birds of another species away from their "territory"; dogs "ganging" up to face off against another species of dogs, and so on. all these happen because our instinct tells us to protect us from anything foreign - even though that foreign entity does not pose any form of danger at all! this is exactly the case in humans. hence racial prejudice occurs.

when we look closer at more technical aspects, it seems that societal pressure does also play a part in determining racial prejudice. when the majority of the society we are in have prejudice, we are inevitably pressured to do so. this is why we make out atticus to be the great person that he is - had there been no difference in the stances towards blacks, he would simply been fulfilling his job as a lawyer, nothing great about that.

on the whole we see that racial prejudice arises from human nature and societal pressure, but that does not justify prejudice at all. only after certain people gained "enlightment", they managed to persuade others to drop their prejudice.

2010-02-28T17:14:00.002+08:00

is there something wrong with mousehunt?

if there is something wrong with mousehunt then there is something wrong with the whole of our lives. the only problem with it is that it is a distraction from our studies. but - to ban us from it will not work. on the first level - people will work a way past the proxy. not working? they'll hack into it. still doesn't work?

they'll just change to another popular game if it seriously does not work.

before MH we had plants and zombies. even earlier we had counter strike, and soldier front.

these games are just a manifestation of the "no-lifeness" that have been implanted into us. the way we live our life causes us to find pleasure and fun and joy in a passive game like mousehunt instead of something much more exciting like FIFA or NBA. most of us, aware that we cannot commit to a long term game that will require lots of practice and engagement, so we can only turn to another game that is creative - mousehunt!

personally I've experienced the feeling of an urge to just continue surfing the net for fun simply because out work no longer appeals to us. this urge is especially strong after i've not been allowed the chance to surf the net for 1 week ++. and hence we turn to mousehunt - something that allows us to surf the net for a fun purpose.

this is exactly what I name the "smb complex" - a condition in which we check the smb every 5 minutes so as to check if there are any updates. for mousehunt - its fifteen minutes, virtually the same thing.

_____________________________________________________________________

i've taken a liking to complexes, like the smb complex, the oppressed-turned-oppressor complex, and something as ridiculously sounding like the unequal distribution complex in the LRT, which is basically some pattern in which there will be people flooding one side or carriage of the LRT, leaving the other side almost entirely empty.

these complexes are really amusing, because they allow us to study human nature and psychology, and laugh at ourselves when we realize how dumb we are. take the unequal distribution complex as an example - doesn't it just show our stupidity and how uncritical we are?

more queer complexes - the oedipus complex, in which it centres around the desire to possess the parent of the opposite sex and eliminate the parent of the same sex; the napoleon complex, which is a feeling of inferiority affecting short people; and finally the God complex, which is, you know...

human psychology is always unique. why does it not tickle when we tickle ourselves? does anticipating a hot make it more painful or less painful? why is there something wrong with emo people? these might be simple questions for psychologists to answer, but we still cannot solve it. the amazing human body has a complex path of nerves that allow all these to happen, and the fundamental principle existent in our brain that makes these complexes happen is still unknown.

on a side note, i'm going for MUN!

let's just hope that i don't screw up, and that people remember me for a good performance. any prize would be a good side dish :D

2010-02-23T20:06:00.004+08:00

today i got caught by my chinese teacher for doing a certain something in class. i shan't elaborate since most of you all should know. i'll just hint about it when i write the bulk of this block post later.

this incident made me think about contending about school rules. not that i hate the school rules, are am a hard out rebel, but i'll just attempt to give an analysis about these issues.

there are a few essential rules i'd like to contend with. firstly about ankle socks, which have been rather controversial in our school, since it is apparent that many other schools do allow ankle socks.

a couple of justifications given by the school were: 1) We should continue our pioneering attitude and set trends for others to follow, instead of following others, and 2) Socks are meant to protect our feet.

when put simply, the first argument actually sounds pretty ridiculous. we should ban short socks and promote "acceptable" length socks, and this may just prompt other schools to follow us? and then we cannot follow others because we would cease to be a "pioneer", and we would appear to be "weak"? Well to ask a question would other schools even look to us? By what standards are socks of acceptable length? and allowing people to wear short socks is not going to make us come across as "followers"; in fact this entire is irrelevant! This is about the freedom to wear things we want, not about what image we portray to others!

Then there was once a teacher tried to "intelligently" point out a reason as to why we should not wear ankle socks. basically he showed us a picture of someone who had a plaster around his ankle area, and was wearing ankle socks. he pointed out that socks were meant to protect our feet, and chuckled. apparently he was pointing out that since socks were meant to protect our feet then why are there still injuries? hence we should all wear long all i can say: full of fallacies. firstly socks are meant to provide protection but that doesn't mean it guarantees protection? then since socks are meant to protect our feet from injury then why must it be long? can't it be below ankle length? and then its not as if those who wore ankle socks have more injuries? if you look around most people in singapore wear ankle socks - do we see them constantly injured?

it is not true that I always wear ankle socks - in fact I don't. its just that i am confused by the reason behind this.

and then the next rule i want to contend with - eating of sweets in class. well this has something to do with the incident that happened today. this rule - does it exist at all? and the justification behind its existence? we set a rule or a ban because we follow a criteria. the sporting world has its own criteria. the marketing industry has its own. since we claim ourselves to be an "institution", we should then adhere tightly to our own constitution! we ban something when it does direct harm. does the sweet do any harm? any third party harm, considering that no one would have known that i was eating a sweet, had they not seen me taking it? what harm it done? does it distract us? well then i must tell you why not ban sweets altogether?! 99% of the time when we are eating a sweet we are doing something - homework, project, etc. does it then distract us? why not ban sweets entirely? sweets have been recommended as a breath freshener, as something to perk yourself up...

apparently the school doesn't provide adequate justification as to why they set down certain rules. these two are just 2 of them. since we're so proud to call ourselves an institution, why do we still set down "martial" laws? the only good argument i can think of for the school is that this sets a dangerous precedence - the slippery slope argument. well even then i can tell you it is very unlikely to happen. quite a number of people in our school still wear ankle socks despite the very rule - and its not as if others are influenced. they still continue wearing beautiful long socks to school. and the sweets issue - why i'm so surprised is because its been carrying on for so long. well on the first level it didn't spark off any revolution to call for more radical rights or anything of the sort, nor have students been taking to explicitly eating food in class.

already we are subconsciously submitting to a lot of societal ideals, such as pink = feminine and homosexuality when worn on males, etc., and we don't need more.

don't get me wrong - i'm not being a coward by not submitting a proper proposal in.

because i know it won't work.

[edit: i have already apologized to my chinese teacher for what i've done in class, and i'm really remorseful if she did feel any offense from my act. i understand fully that my actions apparently do not conform to her definition of respect or anything else, and so i recognize my mistake. but i must still speak out about certain school rules.

also, i'm not against the setting of rules to maintain civilization.

i'm just... unhappy that there are rules that are set that apparently do not fulfil its main aim - to maintain civilization.]

2010-02-13T15:19:00.002+08:00

i entered debate without any prior speaking experience, without any confidence in my voice at all.

i remember very clearly that in primary school the oral examination would make me nervous till my entire body went cold and pale.

there was once my teacher wanted me to share something with the class, and i couldn't hold the mic properly, neither could i speak properly, neither could i look at my class.

so when i entered hwachong and cca selection time came, debate was one of my last choices. during the cca orientation i couldn't bother more about what the seniors were saying up there. i just remembered watching the arena 2 years ago and not understanding a s*** they were saying.

i never imagined i would join debate. my worried parents and myself, worried that i could join some "useless" cca, decided to enrol me in a violin crash course so that i could join the string orchestra.

i actually did quite well, since i had strong musical background after playing the piano for many years.

so at the cca orientation string orchestra was the only thing i was paying attention to.

but after careful consideration at home, we decided that it was not safe enough to just go for one cca, especially one that didn't hold any trials at all, considering i was just a newbie.

and so - bingo, i went for debate trials.

for a period of time i ignored all the announcements on the smb telling us about debate trials, until the time i was actually interested in it.

and that time was the last trial they were going to hold; meaning it was my last chance of salvaging that minute bit of hope.

on the day itself i couldn't find the room, and had to call my mum to ask for the correct location. eventually i arrived, but was 20 minutes late. i was lucky that the senior was nice (benjy, I remember), and still allowed me to participate. so i sat for a general knowledge test first.

it was the worst test i ever did. i still remember saying that chernobyl was in england.

and so by then i had almost lost all hope that i would eventually get in since i had already failed the test.

afterwards was the interview. i was trembling like never before - and it was worsened by how the room was bloody cold.

the interview panel was a group of jc seniors, and perhaps they took pity with me considering my poor results in the test, and didn't ask hard questions.

one question i still remember till today is: "Would you rather, in a competition, your team wins, but you feel that you didn't do too well, or your team loses, but your are awarded the overall best speaker award?"

i answered: "The first option. Because debate is a team... sport, and what's the point of getting something for yourself when your team loses?" There was no point being selfish.

i couldn't remember more from there.

<3>

Darion calls me up to go to the second round of the trials.

I was shocked!

and i went for the trials. the second round was a debate, and i was the first proposition speaker (a role which i discovered i couldn't perform for nuts - I'm a rebuttal speaker).

my speech was less than 3 minutes, and i couldn't understand some of the terms i used in the speech that my team mates had fed to me.

another bad performance.

so after the debate a senior brought me out and asked me a few questions. i was extremely nervous, and couldn't answer at all. he asked me why i thought smoking should be banned. i said it did harm. he said why didn't other things like boxing, which also caused harm, also get banned? i stoned for a while and he revealed the answer to me - it caused third party harm. and then he asked me again - why should we invade north korea? this time i seriously couldn't think. i answered that they were not doing a good job in controlling the country? which was obviously a ridiculous answer. at that time i knew nuts about the DPRK.

and then i went home.

and by then i had ticked debate out of my list.

then, surprise, surprise!

I got called by darion again, and i was accepted!

someone with no ability to speak, no experience, no GK, no confidence - a member of debate.

I'm still laughing.

come to think of it, joining debate was probably the best decision that I ever made. if not for debate my speaking skills would never have improved, my intelligence would never have grown, and everything wouldn't have been in place.

the most absurd turn in life seems to be the best thing that had ever happened to me.

and 2 weeks ago while laughing at how some sec ones wrote in their GK test that UK was a member of the UAE, and that al qaeda was fighting a civil war in sri lanka, i was reminded of myself.

*****************************************************************

Chinese new year is something that everyone likes because in this capitalist environment of opportunities there will still be people who do not succeed.

centuries have passed with us celebrating this event, nothing has come of the well-wishes and the prayers, but we still hope.

CNY is the manifestation of the bourgeoisie desires in us all.

2010-02-07T14:03:00.002+08:00

politics are the dumbest things in this world.

politics brought about poverty. tres bien.

politics brought about distrust. excellent.

politics twisted science. so is global warming happening or not?

politics killed people.

politics made me self censor something that i was going to write.

isn't politics a damn pandora's box with nothing good with it at all?

for one moment someone blows you away with an amazing speech. he promises what no one else dared to promise. he gives you previews of the benefits of you vote for him.

the next moment he betrays your trust. you get nothing from voting for him.

the righteous person is oppressed, and he who is not as righteous wins the game.

isn't the world be better off with NO politics? with global politics come school politics. isn't this a place where we learn the values of righteousness, or trust, of everything good that is encompassed in the school philosophy?

why are being exposed to politics, something entirely about cheating, backstabbing and making false promises?

why do we even have classroom politics when there is nothing to fight for as well?

let us all come to our senses.

anyway I was thinking, what would happen if singapore had regular polls about the approval ratings of our gahmen people?

then I stopped thinking because it wouldn't matter at all.

i like my life, but i swear one day its gonna be more interesting than this.

2010-01-31T11:53:00.002+08:00

What happens when capitalism fails?

Is there anything that dares to take over from there?

Should there be a line drawn at how much more capitalist we can get?

Which are the capitalist societies doomed to failure?

I cannot answer the above questions, can you? Capitalism first started out as uh prostitution, which is the oldest industry ever. From then on people started adopting the "work hard, earn money, get stuff for yourself" attitude, which is capitalism in essence. From that moment, charity became obsolete. Everyone became capitalist. Everyone associated everything as an opportunity to earn money.

I can't really talk about the economic aspects of capitalism, because there are just way too many things to talk about and I confess I don't know a lot about it. So to simplify what I'm trying to say let's just refer to the best model of a capitalist society: Singapore.

You cannot possible deny that Singapore is inherently capitalist. Look at what we have: Income gaps, elitism, etc - the products of capitalism. Capitalism has been the best and the worst thing that has ever happened. It has made us more competent, more competitive and a lot more hardworking; yet it has made us a lot more selfish, a lot of us much more poorer, and produced a lot more bitches. This is what we have become. Can't do well in your studies? C'mon you still have a chance - true as the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow unless you're really that imba. Do well in your studies? Go to a "good" school! We'll give you a scholarship! Donate some money to charity? Right dude show me some stunts first then I'll consider. Make sure the stunts are as cool as those done by circus animals. Do you know that people are suffering with illnesses, lack of food and lack of water? Oh my, that's just really bad. And what flavor of ice cream do you want?

These are the values that capitalism have taught us.

Trust people to ask teachers for ACE/OP points whenever possible, when we know that doing something is for our own good.

Other than the education system, Singapore has also made us the best capitalist example for others to follow worldwide. China are looking at us! Shopping centres springing up without regard as to whether there are even enough customers. We build the merlion, the third airport terminal, the IRs, and all that expensive crap when we could have used all that hoards of money to help the poor people in Singapore - which are more than substantial, if you didn't know. Instead of spending all that, why not just send like another 5 billion to Haiti if you have the capacity to build so many buildings, give so much money to your ministers and have so much in your reserves? Why not just fork out a "mere" one million to help just a small are in Africa, which will be more than enough? We all know why - these countries including haiti can't give nuts to us. We have been steel coated by capitalism into hard-cold mercenary robots.

And its too late to turn back. Because I myself am capitalist.

When Mr Tan PT talked to us about the spirit of giving, I suppose few of us could understand what he said about the dilemma of charity in this capitalist world of ours.

Anyway to answer my first 2 questions at the start, there must be a point in which capitalism will start to implode; I'll find some time to explain this somewhere later. And, very very sadly, there isn't much that is capable of replacing capitalism. Because communism was an epic failure.

To everyone: I'm sorry if I had succeeded in bruising or crushing your ego by either making a derogatory remark or grilling you during your presentation. You were just unlucky to cross my path when I was feeling angsty. The best way to recover from it is to just forget about it. My ego gets bruised easily too, but you don't see it because I don't show it and I forget about it. And for those who are pretending that your egos are not broken by me, then I swear I will take every chance to grab your ego by force and rip it and burn it and reduce it to stuff less significant than ashes.

To everyone: Don't be elitist, and don't think you're better than other people. You may seem to be, but you aren't. Stop being so commanding because you're so good in math or science and you;ve got a 1.00 MSG to show off to.

Its time to stop, let's all pray for a more innocent world which lives by the Michael Jackson quote I posted before.

2010

2010-01-23T13:01:00.002+08:00

“In a world filled with hate, we must still dare to hope. In a world filled with anger, we must still dare to comfort. In a world filled with despair, we must still dare to dream. And in a world filled with distrust, we must still dare to believe.”

Going into secondary 2 I have gained a better perspective of the world, and how maybe it's true that 99% of the world are actually idiots.

I have also discovered that life may very well suck.

Before the class blog policy is being drafted I shall blog as I like, which means I'll follow my own policy. Which has just one clause - No flaming.

Now as a first post I shall not bother to do any introductions, because they are time wasting and you won't know much about me anyway. Perhaps you can look at the description at my profile which was written when my God Complex was running really high, so don't really bother about it.

Apparently I'm supposed to blog about something that interests me and that something only, so I shall choose: Occasional philosophy, ironies, politics, even though p0liticians are utterly hypocritical idiots, and so on. Don't bother tracking my blog if you want to find out about my life; I'm not a narcissist who posts photos.

Anyway before this entire blog post goes to waste, I shall attempt to revive it. The quote above was by MJ(obviously), and this is the quote that makes me feel... sad. We can no longer live our life by those words. When can we trust someone? When can we know for real that any person is not a fake person(literally)? When can we do that in this world where siblings dare to kill each other?

I don't even trust you.

Apple computer users often say that their computers are cool for a few reason:

It's cool
It looks good
Its cool
Can't play games, hey!
Its ghey
Its just darn cool

Now this is just the ******* stupid effect of the emperor's new clothes. Admittedly it looks quite good, but can a Mac user who's been bragging all day long about his chipped apple logo or some potential mac user who's tryna suck up to their parents about how they can't play games on the mac, just tell me what the heck is so good about it?

Mac is just another capitalist thing. Hey maybe I'm wrong; it is the perfect symbol of capitalism.

Now we're conforming to Mac. We're conforming to the Mac's characteristics; we chanting about how good it is when those words didn't even come out of Steven's own mouth.

Why are we saying that certain things "are cool" when we don't even know whether they are? Why are we joining facebook groups that don't make sense? "For those who have pushed a pull door" - Thanks for letting me know you're either blind or retarded. "I'm giving away free iPods" - yeah, thanks, give me 10 if you have that many!

C'mon dudes we all have to wake up.

Our no-lifeness have manifested into something that is more than senseless.

It may just be too late.

I think I'll blog about capitalism and talk about a certain country the next time I post.

http://www.mrbrown.com/blog/2010/01/singapore-government-donates-whopping-us50000-for-haiti-relief-efforts.html - That's an enormous amount. For a country with I-have-no-idea-how-many billion in their reserves.