The Life and Lies of Gnat Salohcin

a teenage love letter

2012-01-29T16:41:00.004+08:00

There is something I need to tell you. You probably already know this, but please, at least just hear me out. I'm about to reveal my hand, and without even looking at it, I know it's a pretty bad deal. But my chips are already on the table, so at least let me go all in - and before you call me on my bluff, please, let's just take this to the river.

Let me just say it - though I think you already know - I like you. There, it's out there. I like you in the way that a boy likes a girl. I like you more than the fat kid in me likes food, or the nerd in me likes video games, or... or the kid in me enjoys playing with Legos. I like you in the way that every morning when the Sun rises I just feel so glad that it shines upon a world that you exist in together with me, and if what I just said wasn't poetry, then fuck it, I'm not a poet anyways.

I won't go as far as to say the other 'L' word, if only because in this day and age it is taboo to even mention it, and also because it seems to have become reserved for the trivial and meaningless, like shopping, or food, or... handbags. But suffice to say, I like you. Probably not in the way of Shakespeare, romance has since ceased being so extreme, and we of today no longer 'burn', 'pine' nor 'perish'. If we do, it is frowned upon - a kind of stalker esque desperation, not so much romantic as perhaps creepy.

But enough with the metaphor and analogy. I know that the odds are stacked against me. But please. Put all these excuses and reasons aside, I just want to know if at any time during my doomed venture there was any hope - any hope at all - at succeeding, at scoring that million to one homerun, goal, whatever cheesy sports metaphor you can think of. For if there was, or if, dare I say it, better still, there is a chance, I beg you to ignore the warped cruelty of reality, and just toy with the delusions of this fantasy. Just allow me to like you, and allow yourself to be liked. That is all I ask of you.

Put aside reason and logic. We are teenagers, and consequently the world revolves around us, and our concept of now. The present is everything, nothing else matters, and if it does, we just don't give a fuck. We live for now, for the present. We live for the romance of the moment. And for now. For now. For NOW. For now, I like you. I really, really, really like you.

***

This is a work in progress, and as such is incomplete. I just felt like posting up what I had so far. It is still rough around the edges, but still readable, I think. Or at least I hope so. I'll work more on this another time.

2012-01-22T23:00:00.002+08:00

Sometimes I'm glad that I celebrate 2 new years, just so I can make 2 sets of resolutions. Not that I actually believe in New Year's resolutions, but I guess some part of me desperately wants to.

Happy Chinese New Year.

***

Yet more proof that the world is unfair: Joseph Gordon-Levitt exists.

He's ridiculously handsome, he can act, he can sing... is there anything this man cannot do? He's set an impossible bar for us would-be geeky guys who would like nothing more than to play the nerd card. He's set an entire new standard on what it means to be a cool nerd (oxymoron, I know) in this day and age. In fact, he's written the syllabus on it. How can anyone hope to match up to that?

***

I was reading some of my archives the other day, and I realised that I've changed quite a bit. Not just in terms of writing style, but in terms of as a person. Some posts just made me cringe, like I don't even remember being so stupid last time. Some posts just made me feel like going back in time and punching past-me in the face so he'll know better than to think that way. Some posts I can still sort of identify with.

***

What I wouldn't give for the ability to write.

the lonely world of a solipsist

2012-01-14T22:27:00.003+08:00

By definition, solipsisim is loneliness.

***

Is this what closure feels like? Maybe I've been reading too much Thought Catalog or something, but recently I've been feeling really down. I guess you could even say emo, though I do think I've outgrown that word. Maybe it's just all the nostalgia. Or how the writers emulate poignancy in their writing. Or maybe it's just the crushing depression I feel when I realise I will never write as well as others.

/emo

***

I have a feeling that I will be in this state for a very very very long time. So be prepared for self loathing and self depreciating posts that don't make sense and are very badly written.

even hollywood gets it right sometimes

2012-01-08T01:08:00.004+08:00

I'll say it now: I love British accents. I think they're really cute. I am of course talking about the generic BBC accents, not the Scottish or the Irish ones, and not the cockney slang of the East End. Not that I dislike Scottish or Irish accents, just that they can be a bit strong for me at times. Yes, I do admit to having a slight fetish for British accents.

Christmas in the UK was a very different experience from Christmas back here at home. Christmas in the UK remains what it should have been all this time: a family holiday. Christmas in Singapore has been bastardised by capitalism, and has become a commercial holiday. What I mean is this.

It's not very fun to be in the UK for Christmas if you're a tourist, I'll grant you that. The city is quite literally dead. Public transport in the form of the tube and buses have completely shut down, and you would be hard pressed to even find a cab. We woke up on Christmas morning and walked down the street for something to eat. The severity of the shut down of infrastructure did not quite hit us until we saw that Starbucks was closed. That stirred the vague inkling in the back of our conciousness that the world had stopped moving. This inkling then exploded into a fully conceptualised feeling when we chanced upon a closed Macdonalds. The world's most reliable 24 hour fast food chain was closed, and it was then and there that the full severity of the situation hit us: the world had come to a stop in the UK.

Christmas is and remains a holiday to spend with your family and loved ones in the UK, not some giant shopping feste that Singaporeans are so accustomed to. This I feel has some meaning to it at least. What we have here in Singapore just feels like a perversion of the holiday.

For some reason, UK has a ridiculously high population of cute and incredibly beautiful girls. Even the Asian girls looked better in the UK. I mean, there were some obviously PRC girls who didn't look quite half bad. I realised that in the big cities like London and Tokyo, the people there are actually thinner and better looking than in the suburban areas or the smaller cities. I don't know why.

***

I started watching New Girl. I didn't even know what the plot was about. I just watched because Zooey Dechanel was in it. Although I am wont to deny it, I actually do have a type. I mean, I do go for the traditional beauty I guess, like those models on the covers of magazines and such, but I have an inclination for a certain look. I can't quite describe what it is (a linguistic failure and limitation on my part), but suffice to say Zooey Dechanel, Anne Hathaway, and Kat Dennings all fit snugly inside. And although Natalie Portman doesn't quite fit in the same caste, I still have a certain soft spot for her.

***

I respect Darwin and his works. I suppose I can't say with absolute certainty that he was right (damn you epistemology, you have permanently scarred me). But I do like to say I believe he was right. But if we reduce his theory of evolution, and simplify it to the brink of over simplification, Darwin believed men's purpose to be carriers of their gene, and that their only purpose was to reproduce that gene. In essence, the purpose of our existence was to reproduce. Which if you think about it, makes life pretty meaningless.

so i started playing swtor...

2012-01-02T19:49:00.005+08:00

...and who would have known my life could cost so little?

I could never for my whole life see what was so happy about the new year. Maybe I'm just doing it wrong. Maybe I'm not 'partying' hard enough.

I haven't been posting quite as much as I would have liked, but I was in London (I'll post about this next week) for most of the past week. Also, I am very lazy.

Anyway, the only the only thing I could think of as I watched the fireworks explode from my living room windows was the amount of tax payers money literally going up in smoke. Call be pessimistic, call me a wet blanket, call me all that, but since I'm starting the first week of the new year with an excercise, I think I deserve to be in such a Dour mood (with a capital D for D: ).

You could of course bring up the old argument about starving children in Africa, or people who are suffering much worse than myself. You could. But then I've always found that argument ridiculous. Why should their suffering more than me detract from the pain of my own suffering? I would of course do what I can to help them out, to ease their suffering. If I could help them out by enduring and pretending to suffer less than what I feel, I would gladly do it.

I'm about to go in about 15 mins, for the first time in about 1.5 weeks, and I won't be coming out in about 7 days because my weekend is burnt from the exercise. Again, D:.

"i'm a sexual scientist"

2011-12-18T17:42:00.002+08:00

Anyone could be a conspiricy theorist nowadays. And anything could be subject to conspiricy nowadays.

Consider the recent case of SMRT's trains not working. For two days in the same week. Now consider the recent increase in taxi fares. Now consider the fact that SMRT does not only deal with trains, but also has a taxi branch.

Coincidence? I THINK NOT.

I just had to post that. But really taxi fare increases? I know Singapore has one of the cheapest cab fares in the world. Couldn't we just leave it as such? And also, what's the point of having peak hour charges if it's peak hour for more than half the day? Why not just charge that much all the time and save the trouble of pretending to have an excuse to charge more.

I should really get round to getting a driving licence.

***

I don't know why people don't understand Aaron Tan (for those of you who don't know who Aaron Tan is look up his video on youtube. Apparently his girl got jacked [though she claims it's some deviant ploy later] and he was mad.). Should I be scared that I actually understand him like crystal clear? I don't know. Maybe some people just need to go through the army. You can pretty much understand any kind of Singlish after going through the army.

It is however official that there is some epidemic of retraded teens in Singapore now. I think they represent the worst of gen z, the generation that was born with the internet. People like Aaron Tan and Adelyn Hosehbo (what the fuck is up with her name?) make me lose faith in the human race.

***

I liked internet memes when they weren't so mainstream (which is contradictory by definition of the word 'meme'). But I think you would know what I mean, you who would consider yourself a 'hipster' of 9gag. I liked it better when not everyone was posting image macros from 9gag on their facebook wall. I don't know.

the grief... it is good

2011-12-11T15:30:00.002+08:00

It has been 10 years since Halo: Combat Evolved was first released. The other day I saw the anniversary edition, and I was like has it really been that long? I'm starting to feel old now. I mean, I probably have a few years left before my birthdays become more depressing than fun. Hitting the twentieth birthday milestone is gonna sting. I mean, I haven't even done anything worthwhile yet. It feels like all our lives we try so hard to grow up, that when we finally get there we just have no idea where we wanna go next.

Next year I'll be turning twenty. It usually won't be such a big deal and all, since ordinarily I don't usually give a fuck about my birthdays anyway. But since I'm born on he 29th of February, birthdays which are multiple of 4s are somewhat more special. When I found out that I might be spending my birthday in India (due to some army excercise), I was a little miffed. But then I was thinking, why do we place such import on our birthdays? And then I didn't really give a shite any more.

There is this song that we sing in the army when we march from point to point. It goes a little something like this:

Down by the river/ Took a little walk/ Ran into some terrorists

Ok that's about all you need to know about the song. I was thinking about how recent the song was, because it included the word terrorists. Which is fairly new in the adoption as the new face of the bad guy. Or at least I thought it was fairly new. Once again, my perception of time had failed me. It has been 10 years since 9/11. Somehow it seemed so recent. Maybe because the US is always making such a big deal out of it (don't get me wrong, it is a big deal. I'm just not sure it's that big a deal, if you know what I mean. Or maybe I'm just spouting gibberish now). Who knows.

***

Seeing as how the year is ending, I think it's time for some New Year's resolutions. Not that I think they work. But hey. One can but try. So here goes:

1. Save more money. I have this financial scheme worked out, if only I would follow it.
2. Get off my lazy ass and learn to drive.
3. Do some proper college apps.
4. Write more.
5. Try to get a portfolio (this has been bothering me for the longest time, just that I'm too damned lazy to do anything about it).
6. ~~Play less computer games.~~ (Oh who am I kidding?)
7. Get a girlfriend. Or something approximate. Companionship maybe? (damn that makes me sound like I want to get a pet. Or that I'm turning gay.)
8. Forget. Just... forget. (C'mon it's been what, 1 year?!? actually more like 2)

***

In other news, I just found this comic to be hilarious. I don't know why.

growing the perfect crop indoors, taking command of your unit, and having experiences with other people's platoons

2011-12-04T16:45:00.003+08:00

"Hi. Again. I'm back. Again. As promised. Life goes on as usual. I guess."

A pause. A sigh.

"Not much has changed since you were gone. Things are the same as ever. I guess I just wish that things could have gone differently. I know you definitely wish that. But that's over and done now. No going back now. Not for me. Definitely not for you."

A lift of a glass. Swirl, tip, and swallow.

"In a way, I'm kind of glad it's over. I don't necessarily mean I liked the way things ended. But at least we're free now. No more responsibilities, no more plotting, no more fighting... Peace at last, eh?"

A sad smile. A chuckle.

"But those were the times. It was good to be young. Now I'm just glad to be still alive. The other day I could actually feel the storm in my bones. I don't like to say this, but I'm getting old. These days I'm more suited to tending crops and reading. I can't say I ever fancied running around adventuring anyhow. It was more of your thing, wasn't it? You were always the strong one. Yes. I still remember, you leading the charge, me cowering behind. Good times."

Another small chuckle, and a trickle down the cheek.

"Well all that's over now. Some day the world will know of this. I'm doing what I do best. I'm writing this all down, for when the time comes, they will know all about you. You will not be forgotten."

Picking up the glass again, the old man rose to his feet. And his voice dropped to a whisper.

"No. You won't be. I miss you, old friend. Goodbye. I'll be back to see you."

He reached down and dusted off the small, unmarked stone set in the earth. Then he turned around, with naught a look back, walked down the small dirt road down the knoll, humming as he did so.

***

I might continue this short story. Well I'm planning to, anyhow. But we all know my laziness and lack of resolve will get in the way. I could totally imagine this being an opening scene in a film or a game. I think prose was not the best medium to express this kind of thing. But then again maybe in the hands of a more skilled writer this might have actually made sense.

***

I talked to one of my old friends recently. It's a shame that people who might have been close in the past tend to drift apart. I never realised how much I missed talking to him.

"love is the resolve to create an illusion that accepts this reality"

2011-11-26T22:25:00.002+08:00

I recently watched 那些年，我們一起追的女孩 (woah Chinese characters on my blog!), or for those who don't read Chinese (almost like myself), You Are the Apple of My Eye.

I have to say I have no idea why I have a penchant for watching sad movies. I really don't want to, to be honest. I really thought that this was a happy movie, but obviously I had been misled. I found the movie far more depressing than One Day. *SPOILER* Perhaps it's just the fact that the protagonist never got together with his love interest, perhaps it was just the finality of marriage that made it so depressing. It seems like some new trend for books and movies to have sad endings. Or maybe I'm just attracted to the whole depressing genre. I should probably stop reading A Song of Ice and Fire and stop watching sad movies. Reading A Song of Ice and Fire has gotten to the point where upon reading any sort of minor moral victory on the part of the protagonists I would read and re-read the passage, and it gives an almost (for lack of a better word) orgasmic pleasure. This cannot be healthy.

I am now all the more convinced that males and females are constructed differently. Most of the females that I've talked don't seem to find 那些年，我們一起追的女孩 sad at all. *SPOILER* The common consensus among these girls seem to be that the couple was never meant to be in the first place. That the female lead was obviously more suited for someone else. But how can you endure watching a protagonist fail? I get that the female got a 'happy ending' (I of course beg to differ). But what kind of inhuman cold automaton do you have to be to not be able to - if not empathise - at least sympathise with the protagonist? I don't know anymore.

***

I wanted to post something longer in this bookout, but obviously my weak resolve has failed me once again. I'll try again next week.

'pigeons aren't afraid of anything. they stand on electrical wires.'

2011-11-13T00:00:00.002+08:00

There is this old economics joke:

In the beginning, God created the Heavens and the Earth.

Everything else, is made in China.

Now it seems like everything is bought by China too. I know I am about a week late, but at the G20 recently, it seems like the solution to everyone's problems is for China to buy them out. America's dollar is pretty much owned by China. And Europe is asking for their trillion dollar debt to be bailed out by China's 3 trillion dollar reserves.

Strangely enough, instead of feeling some of that Asian pride, I get this shudder when I think about China taking over the world. I mean, I don't hate commies or anything, I mean the past 6 years of my education has been in a 'Chinese' school (which by extension made it communist). I guess I just never really liked China. Or maybe I'm just a xenophobe. Who knows.

It seems like the end of the world as we know it. Maybe I shouldn't be reading so many depressing articles. I'll like to state it here that I don't believe in the Second Coming, nor do I believe that the world will end in 2012 (how depressing is that for my life to end in NS?). But everywhere you look in the papers nowadays it's just death and destruction. The review section is plagued with at least one article about the failing Euro every. single. day. I just wish they could print some happier news.

***

I have never in my entire life felt so proud to be Singaporean then I do now. It's just some things and some people that I've met that have prompted this sudden surge in my patriotism. Pretty personal stuff, like some kind of enlightenment or something. Suffice to say I'll probably not post it up here.

***

On a side note, is it even legal for Adam Levine to be so ridiculously attractive?

if the devil burns evil doers, doesn't that make him a good guy?

2011-11-03T15:51:00.005+08:00

Yet another reason to doubt the existence of God: the existence of mosquitoes.

***

Maybe it's just me, but I just hate it when people compare their relationships with Romeo and Juliet. Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy - they commited suicide at the end.

***

I know this happened quite some time ago, and noone really gives a shite about it anyway, but this article appeared on my facebook feed so I read it. It was about occupy Singapore, an effort to get Singaporeans in on the protest effort occupy wallstreet. Here's the link to the article.

Maybe the author knows more than me. After all, she has her opinion plastered over the page of some reputable news agency's website, while my piece is here rotting away from the public eye. Maybe she is smarter than me. Maybe she knows more about Singapore than me. After all, she's 'She's spent the last few years in Singapore and previously lived in New York and Boston.' But really, I just have to disagree with everything she is saying.

Occupy Singapore was not a 'raging failure'. The fact that noone turned up would be a raging success in my book. It was a protest, after all. If the people had nothing to protest about, shouldn't that be a success? Unless of course, everyone had something meaningful to say and protest about but they just didn't do it, then that would be a different case I guess.

But what do we have to protest about? Complain about, sure, plently. But protest about? Housing prices suck, but nowhere near unaffordable as other big cities like New York and Japan. We have one of the highest home ownerships in the world. Our dollar isn't failing. We aren't trillions of dollars in debt. Shenton Way wasn't the ones who came up with minibonds, though they are in part at fault for trying to market it as well. Our national airline did not just go on strike costing us billions of dollars. We may not be the most democratic of nations, but seriously, who the fuck cares? And anyway, this recent election saw the most amount of contested seats. If you don't vote opposition in, it's your own fucking fault.

Now, I'm not trying to be some government dog or anything. I don't love the PAP, I respect them, but I don't worship them. I disagree with some of their policies, and I was unhappy with the way some of the issues were handled, like public housing prices. I have some problems with the way things are run, but these are complaints. I can whine about them at home, and still feel okay about my life here. I don't necessarily have to march down Raffles Place to make a point. There isn't much of one to be made, anyway.

Or maybe Occupy Singapore was about the mission statement posted on their Facebook page, "Occupy Singapore is about engaging the public in the democratic process and creating a new form of democracy." What is this "new form of democracy"? Is it a two party system deadlock where nothing gets resolved? Is it a political system where candidates in the same party accuse each other of sexual assault just so they won't get ahead in the primaries? Or maybe it's the kind of government who calls for a referendum, and then folds under the immense pressure of the people who protest against it. Or is it the kind of government who can only pass small bills because otherwise everyone would get upset?

Or maybe this protest is about something else. Maybe it is about protesting for the sake of protest, as with most of Singapore's protests. Like Chee Soon Juan, who never really has anything worthwhile to say, but who regularly tries to say it anyway (I used to take him seriously, but he has become something of a political joke to me).

Honestly, the fact that Singaporeans did not turn up for Occupy Sinagpore was a success, not a failure. Or maybe Singaporeans are just the same apathetic fucks and they didn't even hear about it. Either way, that's fine.

***

"Big boobs on a fat girl are like six packs on a thin guy - they don't count." Quoted for truth.

***

I watched One Day the other day. I had no idea what to expect from it, having not read the book, or any other kind of spoiler. To be honest, I watched the movie in part because Anne Hathaway was starring in it. I seem to have developed this fetish for her movies. Or maybe just her. Same difference.

The movie was pretty depressing. For those who have not read the book, the twist(?) would come predictably yet somehow still shockingly.

And somehow this movie just reinforces the idea that the douche will get the girl. I know, the nerdy girl redeems the douchebag, blah blah. But all these Hollywood flicks just serves to reinforce that nerds always lose. The only movies in which the nerd wins out are like the movies that Michael Cera star in. He's pretty much the quintessential nerd.

Having said all that, I guess I would have went for Jim Sturgess anyway. He is ridiculously handsome.

put the 'he' in 'hero', son

2011-10-30T12:05:00.002+08:00

After nineteen years of living, I have finally realised the importance of the Story. The Story comes in all forms, be it literature, film, television, verbal discourse... I could probably go on for a while, but everyone probably gets the idea.

Because we only live one life, because we only have one chance at living, we will never get to experience any other possible way of life. And that's why we enjoy the Story. Because it is that which we never have been and will never be. It provokes the imagination to dream, the emotions to feel, and the mind to wonder.

The Story is everything we ever wanted to be but never dared to try. It is the Road Not Taken.

i've got 99 problems, and yes, a bitch is one

2011-10-23T17:23:00.003+08:00

Before I begin, I would like to put it out there so everyone knows that I am not a sexist. At least not the chauvinistic kind, or the asshole who demeans women, or the guy who thinks women are his inferior. For the record, I am all for sexual equality.

But boys and girls are different, and always will be so. What I cannot stand are these neo feminists, or as I like to call them, feminazis (ok this makes me sound a little sexist, but I assure you I am not). I swear it is a crime in this century to be born male. Am I wrong? It seems like everything we do is wrong. First we're not giving females enough freedom, then we're not being gentlemanly enough. Truth: if we say that men are smarter than women, we will probably be booed off stage (and met with a pretty heavy lawsuit). But if anyone claims that women are smarter than men, you hear cheers of approval. Are we so juvenile that we have to pretend that one sex is smarter than the other?

I mean, it is a crime for men to feel proud about anything anymore. I feel like the men of this generation are constantly being vilified for, well, being men. The problem with equality of the sexes is that women don't really want it. What they do want, is all the benefits and none of the shit (for lack of a better word). They want to play on the same field as men, while reserving the right to demand men put the seats down and open doors for them. I'm not so objectionable to any of these things, but the thing is everytime we bring these things up in any kind of argument involving the concept of sexual equality, the common rebuttal is just "well, women have to give birth." It is the ultimate 'I win, you lose' card. It is always said with the finality of someone who has just won an argument so decisively it would take the opposition 10 years to recover from the trauma of losing. And it is true. There is no argument men can throw back against that without sounding like a total asshole. But please women, you trivialise the whole thing. The argument is old, it is tiresome. If men say, "Well, I have to serve in the army." You just go, "Well, I have to give birth to children." What do you want from us? I'd give birth for you if I could? Please, the card is overplayed, and it sounds almost childish to keep repeating it.

But the real difference between men and women are often in the lyrics of songs. It seems like men are always singing about how they want to get together with a girl, how they like a girl so much. Or how they can't forget a girl. Nowadays all the female singers seem to be singing about how they want to get over their man, or how they will rise up stronger than ever after. It's like that new song, 'Skyscraper' by Demi Lovato. "I will be rising from the ground/ Like a skyscraper" Ok, seriously? Or maybe 'I Will Survive' by Gloria Gaynor. This one is even worse. Just... just read the lyrics. It might as well read (in the words of Pablo Francisco), 'I will survive/ You piece of shit motherfucker' It seems like every song you're just putting down men. Compare this to David Cook's 'Fade into me'. 'Nuff said, I think.

Maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm just overreacting, or maybe I'm just a sexist fuck who despises women. But hey this is just my opinion, feel free to disagree. I'm not saying that all women are like that. I'm just saying there's this trend that seems to be forming.

'their shoes are permanent'

2011-10-16T18:50:00.004+08:00

Am I the only one who finds it disturbing that in the next 20 years ours is the generation that will be leading Singapore?

***

I missed the death of Steve Jobs. I was in camp when it happened. I learned of his death the same day everyone else did of course, but in camp nothing much on the outside really bothers or affects you quite the same way.

I respect Steve Jobs and everything he has done. I know him for a genius. But I don't think he is all that everyone seems to think him to be. True, I do own an iTouch. And I did so love the designs of the iPods and all the varients. But how can you trust products that were built on flare and not substance? How can you trust products that sell on style and not utility?

The Macbook is not quite the symbol of the technology rebel it was in 1984, the critical year Apple broke IBM's Orwellian grip over PCs. Maybe it is because I am a gamer. But to me, the functionality of the Macbook is far inferior to that of a PC. Now all the classic arguments are going to start coming, that the Mac has fewer virsuses, that there are fewer problems with the Mac. That may all be true, but look back at the 'I'm a Mac, and I'm a PC' commercials (you will find these on Youtube). You will find that all that Apple has to say is that a Mac can do everything a PC can do.

Steve Jobs could be considered a revolutionary. But the Mac has strayed so far from what it promised to be in 1984. I feel it is so close to becoming the very evil it promised to free the world from. But hey, then again, that's just me. So don't kill me, Apple fans. Please.

***

I have not been posting as much as I should have, or would have liked to. Initially I set a post a weekend as a target to achieve. But sometimes I'm just so goddamned lazy to do anything. Also, sometimes short of posting about my life, I feel like I have nothing to post about. I mean, most of my week is taken up by the army, and I couldn't possibly post about that.

“kitsch is the inability to admit that shit exists”

2011-10-01T00:45:00.002+08:00

Like a mimosa. The twitch, and the recoil at the (s)lightest touch. Shrinking away and curling up. But give him time - a little space - and he will open up.

***

Like a mimosa. Feels like that description needs some work, but I've been thinking about it all week now after playing with some mimosa while sitting around in the field (for those who think this is a pleasant experience obviously the word 'outfield' does not hold the same connotations for you as it does for me. Read: you probably have never been in the army).

***

I just went to Universal Studios Singapore the previous weekend, and once again I am reminded of why theme parks are awesome. Not that USS was particularly good as a theme park: there were only about 3 rides worth riding again, and the water show was a direct rip from Universal Studios in Australia.

Anyway, I love theme parks because you get the experience of walking through life with a theme song blasting in the back ground. Especially if you walk through the Lost World segment of the theme park, just as the swell of the motif hits the climax, you feel like a total boss.

If I had a soundtrack to my life, it would be composed by John Williams. Or maybe Nobuo Uematsu. Or Joe Hisaishi. Or a collaboration of all of them (though I'm not so sure their styles are compatible). And the narrator would be Morgan Freeman. Or Sameul L Jackson.

echo charlie

2011-09-18T14:23:00.003+08:00

It seems like a time honoured tradition in the military to give unnecessary and unwieldly acronyms to just about anything. After all, it's not the Basic Military Training you go through, rather the BMT, and if you want to go to the School of Infantry Specialists, you go to SISPEC, or else you might become an officer in the Officer Cadet School, or rather OCS.

It's never just a "run", it is an Ability Group Run, or AGR. It's not a machine gun, it's a GPMG (general purpose machine gun), or maybe you're holding on to a SAW (section automatic weapon) instead.

Sometimes (read: most of the time) I forget what the acronyms stand for. They don't bother reminding us though. Like when we were doing topography, we had to constantly report our coordinates back to HQ via the signal set. We reference our position on the map by refering to a map grid reference (yeap you got it, MGR), or if we use the signal set, we refer to a Mike Golf Romeo (MGR). It gets difficult to remember what the original acronym stood for in the first place.

But then that is the life of an NSF (Full-time National Service). The daily prayer of an Echo Charlie (or EC, or excercise cancelled).

My language used in the army has also been radically redefined. While previously before enlistment, I have never favoured the use of the word "chee bye" (meaning vagina in Hokien), it is now the swear word of choice. This is in part because the term is highly flexible, and can be used in multiple situations. While translation back to English would render the use of the term nonsensicle and ridiculous, it is perfectly acceptable and understandable in the context of it's original form.

It can be used in the form of an exclamation ("Chee bye!"), or to describe something ("His face damn chee bye"). But hey, don't worry, I haven't stopped using the old goodies like "fuck".

ich bin ubermensch

2011-09-05T12:42:00.003+08:00

On the surface, running appears to be an excercise of simplicity. We start crawling at 6 months, and start walking at 12 months. It is an excercise of monotony; a foot in front, a foot behind, a foot again moved in line. But the distance does weary. The feet pounding on the pavement (or the pavement pounding on the feet).

Slowly, the pain and aches gnaw at the will to continue, as fatigue sandpapers resolve, grinding and smoothing it into nothingness. The will to continue then has to come from outside. In this case, it is a girl. The run becomes focused, and it is now a chase. There is now a goal - a slender back and demure figure to keep in sight. Her swaying hair - tied up in a long ponytail, with stray strands falling across her neck in careless perfection - now a metronome, a conductors baton (such a familiar sight to he), left, right, left, right, left, right, left... ... ...

The constant cycle of feet now become orchestrated, a symphony of movement. The pace is controlled, steadily pounding forward ad un moderato. It does not matter what she looks like from the front, all that matters is that he does not lose sight of her from the back. For if he does, the monotony slips back, and the run once again becomes a stride to ad infinitum, ad taedium.

***

Moral stories all fall to the same problem, they appeal to our immoral nature to inspire us to do what is 'right'.

Take the story of The Goose That Laid the Golden Eggs for example. The farmer that owned the goose slew it to derive instant profit from the goose, but ended up with just, well, a dead goose. A possible moral derived from this is that we should not be greedy. But the reason why we should not be greedy can be rationalised to be that if we weren't greedy, we would have a constant suppply of golden eggs. The problem with this is that wanting a constant supply of golden eggs for free implies that we have some kind of greed. Therefore the story appeals to our greed to, well, stop being greedy (as absurd as that sounds).

Well that was rather convoluted, I do hope someone understands what I wrote.

***

Being an NSF, I am apparently unable to comment on the politics of this country, despite having to defend it. I have therefore refrained from commenting on the presidential elections, though I must say that Tan Cheng Bock does have an awesome voice (for those who don't know what I am talking about go look for him singing on Youtube)

l'esprit de l'escalier

2011-08-20T22:37:00.003+08:00

"If she doesn't know who loves orange soda, she's too young for you." So true.

What can I say, I'm a 90s kid.

***

I forget that some people actually read this blog, however sparse and few they may be. Someone just reminded me of that a while ago. I think it is the highest achievement of any writer to evoke an emotional response in his audience, to the extent that they feel inclined to respond to it. It can be so very flattering, and I do thank people who remind me that my writing is not worthless, even if I do think it to be such.

***

Being a teenager was a weird time. Everyone tried to be different but the same. It is the eternal struggle to both appear original and blend in, and balance between both ideals became precarious at times.

it's just pure mindless vandalism

2011-08-14T16:55:00.002+08:00

I swear they don't make phones like they used to. Part and parcel of enlisting into the SAF is the ritual of switching one's phone to a non-camera model. I know most people are trending towards getting a Blackberry or something these days, but I just dug through my house for one of those old Nokia models. I'm old school like that.

Anyway, if there is one thing to be said about these old Nokia phones, is that they are as hardy as hell. I dropped my phone like 3 times the other day, and on the last time the phone casing nearly split into two. The halves were hanging on to each other by small bits of plastic, and the innards nearly spilt out. I just snapped the two halves together again with a satisfying click, and the phone just came back to life. They don't make them like that any more.

***

When you reach past a certain number of friends on Facebook, they should add inverted commas to the word friends. It should read "friends" instead.

singapura encik

2011-08-11T11:51:00.003+08:00

Someone needs to make a show with that title. I swear it would be a hit. And if they really do make it, remember kids, you saw it here first.

***

In nature, I think many animals adapt themselves to suit their environment. Humans are perhaps one of the few animals who so radically redefine their surroundings to adapt to them (and here I am sure many biologists will be jumping to correct me). We are constantly trying to build our own environments, so much so that we constantly innovate to strengthen the fortress that shields our senses from the outside world.

Ears are constantly plugged by our own music, and eyes are shielded by your choice of media device, be it the handheld console or the smart phone. Cars now come equipped with television screens, because it would be too awkward for families to converse while on the road.

***

When I was in primary 5 (or 6, I forget), guys and girls didn't get along too well. We were children then, and admittedly still somewhat childish now. This didn't work out too well for me, because my class had 31 girls and only 9 boys in it. And we would play the disease game, where if you had any contact with a girl you would have to pass it on and spread it to some other guy to be 'safe'. Not the most mature thing in the world, but we were young then.

One day in the middle of the year I recieved a phone call from one of the girls. I no longer remember the date, the day, the month. I can't even remember if I was in primary 5 or 6. What I do remember was what she said to me. We talked for barely half a minute when she suddenly sprang one on me, "What would you do if I said I loved you?" I swear that is the exact wording. Coming from a 11-12 year old. Did she even know what the word 'love' meant? Never mind that. ~~But as you can see, I was already pimping it up then.~~

Naturally I did the only logical thing. I hung up the phone. Now, in my defence, I would say that 1. I was young, 2. It could have been a prank call, like a truth or dare thing (they were pretty malicious bitches the lot of them), 3. It was a surprise attack. But whatever the case, she and I never spoke to each other again, aside from the passing mono-syllable conversation, unavoidable due to our close social proximity.

And since that day, I swear karma is still taking a shit on me. Especially on the romance front of things. In junior college, my class had 16 boys and 1 girl. Good one, karma. I see what you did there.

***

Sometimes I wish that I would be taught a lesson to cure my laziness. It seems that yet again, my laziness has been rewarded, and I have achieved something for nothing. Of course, I wasn't wishing that I had failed my A levels or anything, noone wants that. But maybe if I had a more accurate reflection of effort invested in my scores I would actually treat that as a wake up call. It seems that all my life I have made close scrapes, barely making it by with meagre effort.

***

I was at the bay on National Day, posted there to do some inane duty, nevermind the details of that. What was more important was that during the pledge moment at 20:11 hours, which was part of my duty to incite the crowd to participate in, a dismal amount of people bothered to take their pledge to the country. And less still decided to sing the national anthem that followed. Scratch that, they even refused to stand still while the anthem was playing.

Most of the crowd had turned up just for the fireworks, and had melted away has the last spark fizzed out. Such is our respect and loyalty to our country: a fiery display of passion that dissipates with prolonged inspection.

running on 80 cents an hour

2011-07-31T19:15:00.004+08:00

I just saw a primary school girl wearing a shirt that read "I <3 BJ". Immediately I thought of several possibilities, namely:

1. She loves China's capital
2. She was secretly a tranny
3. The shirt is grammatically wrong and is missing the word 'giving'

Regardless of the possibilities, there is only one conclusion: the world is a screwed up place. I mean, who actually likes China?

***

Today someone misrepresented their birthday on Facebook, claiming it to be today instead of their actual birthday. How and why this was done is unimportant; what is important is the events that followed.

People continued the mindless ritual of wishing her happy birthday. This just reinforced my belief that social networking over the internet just develops highly impersonal relationships. The well wishes were then both meaningless and superficial, revealing lack of thought on the part of the wisher.

Granted I don't bother to find out the birthdays of my aquaintances, and I even forget some of my friend's birthdays, but then we aren't the type of people to celebrate birthdays together and such. The term 'friend' on Facebook is a misnomer; aquaintance would have been a more suitable term. I think there are even addons for Facebook that automatically wishes happy birthday. This is the value of our relationships today.

***

It is 1993, and Radiohead had just released their debut album Pablo Honey.

Every misunderstood teenager has instantly fallen in love with them. For myself, upon discovering the song Creep, the emo teen in me instantly adopted it as my theme song. I wonder if I'll ever outgrow this phase.

raichu>pikachu

2011-07-24T02:36:00.002+08:00

The year is 2002. Like any other tween to teen in the world, I was enamoured by Avril Lavigne. Her debut album Let Go had just taken the world by storm. She was great back then.

The other day Sk8er Boi came on the radio, and immediately I was brought back to 2002 again. There was this warm sense of nostalgia, the good kind. It was almsot cathartic, therapeutic even. I remember going to the States - specifically, LA - back in 2002, where they were playing Sk8er Boi 4 times an hour. We didn't change the channel. Not just because every other channel was doing the same thing, but also because we didn't tire of it.

***

I love the Pokemon video game series. But I swear the pokemon are getting worse every version. They're running out of ideas for good pokemon. The first Gen was still the best. Regardless. I would still love to play Black and White.

Can't say I care much for the pokemon anime though. The first season was ok, I mean, I was in primary school and it was awesome to watch it for the weekends. And back then there was this pokemania going about, it was infectious.

But now. I mean, cmon, Ash is total bullshit. He's been trying to be a master since 1997. Is he even trying. I remember I watched this somewhere - in one of the Pokeleague matches, he brought in a Pikachu, Gible, Sceptile, Torkoal, and Heracross. Now, not to diss on any of his choices, BUT THEY FUCKING SUCK. Heracross might make it in OU, but apparently Ash didn't get the memo they were gonna be playing uuber. I mean he went up against a Darkrai and a Latios. Was he even trying to win?

obligatory bookout post

2011-07-17T17:59:00.002+08:00

"Short of taking the ferry to Tekong, this is the Siberia of Singapore. ~~I believe in two things: discipline and the Bible. Here you'll receive both. Put your trust in the Lord; your ass belongs to me. Welcome to Shawshank.~~"

Ok so my officer didn't really say the second part. But he did say the first part. Which does give you a clue of how fucking far away my camp is from any kind of civilisation. Still. Anything is better than being on Tekong.

***

I think it is the eternal dilemma of the NS man if he should sleep during bookouts. On one hand you return to camp well rested. On the other hand you GET TO DO WHATEVER YOU FUCKING WANT. Ok, so I guess there really isn't much of a choice here, but sometimes the fatigue just gets the better of you and you have to sleep. Honestly if I could stsay awake for 72 hours I would.

***

I believe that language has to be practiced, and the company we find ourselves in often dictates the quality and ability of how well one can speak. Simply put, if you surround yourself with people who can speak well, you probably will be able to speak well too. The reverse is of course true as well.

Being in the army, I find that the standard of my spoken English is constantly slipping, and for those who do not know me by now, I take great pride in my ability to speak and write. I do think that my linguistic abilities are somewhat above average, though I am sure there will be those who will beg to differ.

Hopefully at the end of these two years I find that my speaking and writing abilities have not been fully compromised. Leave me that much at least - I don't think it is too much to ask for.

***

I think that Wittgenstein was right when he said that the limits of our language is the limits of our world (a stock quotable phrase for any KI essay). Our language very much depicts what we see and what we interpret of our surroundings, and our day to day human interaction.

Here's just anecdotal evidence, which is weak, I know, but here goes. I find that some people with a weak vocabulary may interpret human emotion in 3 shades of happy, sad and angry. Sometimes when I am irritated, which is close to but not quite being angry (I think there is a fine line between these emotions, and I'm sure a lot of people would agree), some dick would tell me to "chill" insisting that I am "angry". Which would piss me off and really make me angry then.

But one thing I have come to realise of myself, is that I have an extremely short fuse when put under any kind of stress. I find myself highly impatient with others. But I'm trying, Ringo.

***

There are so many things in this world I would like to do, if only I wasn't so lazy to do them. Riddle me this: if 329 people are outstanding, how are they outstanding?

attack my fun pack

2011-07-08T13:39:00.003+08:00

Recently there has been this uproar about Singapore using the melody of Lady Gaga's Bad Romance for one of the national day songs. I originally didn't want to post about this because I was rather indifferent about the issue.

But then I was watching it the other day, and the only thing I can say is that it is yet another failed attempt by Singapore to be 'cool'. Why is it that whenever Singapore tries to be cool we fail in the most spectecular fashion? Is there something inherently uncool about being Singaporean? I'm beginning to suspect there is.

I think the main reason these things happen is because the older generation who is so out of touch with what is 'happening' or what is remotely acceptable by the younger populace are the ones who are coming up with these things. And the younger population upon witnessing such horrors refuse to have anything to do with these things, afraid that they may be 'uncool' by association. It's a vicious cycle. The youth of this country are unwilling to associate themselves with national events, because it is percieved to be uncool (and rightly so). So the events will never improve, it will remain uncool, probably for all eternity.

I can only say this. I don't hate on Singapore, don't get me wrong. I still love this country, no matter how uncool it may become. I am however embarrassed by my country, along with many of the youth today, I think. The youth of today are trying to distance themselves as much as possible from these national products of disaster, because we are embarrassed that our country could come up with something so - for lack of a better word - lame. It is a difficult feeling to swallow, embarrassment.

Of course this poses a huge problem for us. It would seem that the only solution to our 'uncool' problem would be for more youth to contribute and put their stake in national affairs. But noone in their right mind would want to, unless they were already uncool to begin with.

But hey who cares if you are uncool Singapore. I still love you anyway, with that geeky glasses and horirble haircut.

***

Now while the song is uncool and inappropriate for national day, I think it is an adequate satire on how Singaporeans put too much emphasis on the fun pack. National day has become more about celebrating the content of the goodie bag than celebrating the nation's birthday.

It is a pity however, that the song is not recognised as the parody or satire that it was intended to be, either because we are too stupid to see such, or the satire was just poorly done and in bad taste (you can decide which for yourself). To be honest, the idea of a parody of Singaporeans enjoying a goodie bag overmuch doesn't quite seem to fit in with the idea of celebrating a nation's birthday. It is simply not the right occasion for it. Whoever came up with the idea and more importantly whoever approved the idea lacked... tact. As with a lot of people in charge of our events nowadays. It is the main readon (I think) that mishaps like this happen.

upgrade complete

2011-06-26T17:24:00.002+08:00

The disparity of my IQ with and without internet access is worrying. I don't know how people used to survive in a time before Google. Did we all use to be incredibly stupid? Or are we getting more stupid nowadays? I don't know anymore. Maybe the reason I spend so much time behind the screen is because my inferiority complex does not allow me to leave the comfort of appearing intellectually superior.

***

I'm so glad that Singapore does not acutually have a home shopping channel, or Billy Mays (on a side note, yes, I do know he is dead). I just watched 2 of Billy May's videos on youtube, and I was immediately sold to buy Oxiclean and Quick chop for 19.95 each. And I don't even cook and clean at home.

***

Where's a time turner when you need one? I'll even settle for a deus ex machina.

ridicudonculous

2011-06-25T12:18:00.004+08:00

If only I could stand up, walk away
or get blown off by the wind
flapping to horizons infinite
over the hills and valleys
valleys and hills
alone
taste the sweet salvation of loneliness
taste the cold seperation of loneliness
taste the quiet desperation of loneliness
away from here, away from here
away from here
far, far away

If only.

***

I was trying to get through Voltaire's essay on free will (failing horribly of course. Don't ask me why I even bothered trying. Obviously my desire to appear intellectually superior must have gotten the better of my common sense), and I must conclude that Voltaire, and probably any philosopher that ends with the conclusion that there is some form of free will in this world, has never been through national service and BMT as a recruit.

***

Emotastic

3. rinse and repeat

2011-06-12T12:31:00.003+08:00

Lessons learnt from the army:
1. Always flush the toilet
2. If in doubt, flush again

***

I wonder what it was like to be Beethoven. Did he hear his music echoing in his deaf ears long after he lost his hearing? Was it a sudden clear as he heard only the sounds in his head, or was it an eternal torment of having no access to the very thing you treasure the most? I wonder what it was like for him to be writing his 9th symphony. What is it like being inspired by a piece of poetry, in a way that sparks the imagination to compose an entire piece based on lines of words? In Beethoven's time, people probably read Ode to Joy as we read poems today, with inflection and feeling, yes, but without melody or tune. What was it like for Beethoven reading Ode to Joy? Did he always have a tune in his head he was reading it to? Or did he wake up one day thinking about a tune and finidng the words to fit in as he stumbled across the poem?

Most importantly, what did it feel like to be a genius?

***

I was thinking about how they made something so complex and detailed as, say, a handphone. Obviously the factory the handphone was made in had all these cool tools that could make things so precisely and accurately. But there had to be a factory out there that made those tools, and so on and so on. This could go on ad infinitum, but I think you get my point. How did we evolve from using sticks and stones to working metal and making handphones and the like? Is there still a factory out there making all the most basic and primitive tools so we can continue making advanced ones? Or has everyone already forgotten how to do all this? When I thought about all these things my brain froze and exploded from the sheer amount of things we would have to redo should there be some kind of reset on our entire line of technology.

I think people intent on destroying the world should think about this more often.

full plastic jacket

2011-06-05T11:42:00.003+08:00

Somehow I doubt many people will be getting the reference in my post title. But whatever.

***

I swear that after spending one week out in the field, no part of my body works the way it was meant to anymore. I don't think my knees bend anymore. I never really liked camps. In secondary 3 it was compulsary to do Outward Bound School, and I hated it. So no surprise that I didn't really like my field camp. But hey, I'm still alive. That's a pretty big plus.

***

I have always felt that language is one of the most important forms of human expression. With all it's limitations, it is probably one of the only ways we can effectively convey experiences, in a way that can be understood by a majority. Which is why I hate it when I am unable to express myself, which happens quite often.

A thought stuck on the tip of the tongue that dies with the breath that fails to express it.

***

the rain dried before it kissed the ground and the sun parted the clouds a-rainbow of seven colours lighting the ground below illuminating everyone in a flurry of colour and radience and the darkness fled to the far corners hiding but not quite gone lurking lurking lurking in the shadows unnoticed and ignored by the people around all too busy to care for they only saw the light ahead

as narcissus gazed into the river

2011-05-28T12:29:00.002+08:00

I have always been a romantic. I don't know why, but many people think I am a cynic. I sometimes come to believe that too. I can be awfully cynical about a lot of things, but deep down inside I am ultimately a romantic. I love dreaming and daydreaming (more so than I love putting these dreams to reality). I like to believe in the good in people. But often I find myself obsessing on the uglier parts, and on some days I fall back into my cynic's trap, and I only see the ugliest humanity has to offer. I do admit there's a part of me that believes that everyone is ultimately self serving, and some days I think what Yossarian from Catch-22 says is true:

"From now on I'm thinking only of me."

Major Danby replied indulgently with a superior smile: "But, Yossarian, suppose everyone felt that way."

"Then," said Yossarian, "I'd certainly be a damned fool to feel any other way, wouldn't I?"

In a way this makes so much sense the first time I read this my brain exploded. But I digress. The romantic in me believes in the happy ending. Sometimes I find myself wishing for a Disney princess ending to my currently non-existant love life. I think I've watched too many movies and read too many books, and I begin to live my life like a Hollywood story. True story: I told the love of my life that I liked her on the night of my senior promenade (the very fact that I refer to her as the love of my life already signals that there is something very wrong with me [I'm only 19, I don't even think I know what love is yet. Also, I think it was an infatuation more than anything else. Goes to show how much I know]).

***

I don't know why I wrote all that personal crap. Maybe I just wanted an avenue to vent some things. Sometimes I just feel like I'm going to explode, so who better to tell these frustrations to than anonymous strangers I don't know on the internet? Sometimes these things are too embarrassing to tell people you actually know (so if you know me personally and are reading this, you know not to bring this up when you actually do see me next time).

I think I should excercise my writing more. More so than ever now since I enlisted. I swear what they say is true: every time you put on your helmet you lose 10 IQ. Now I'm not complaining or anything, but everytime I put on my helmet, I get the worst migraine afterwards. I swear it is a result of the helmet microwaving my brain, combined with the pressure the helmet exerts on my temples. Fact: the helmet's second patent was as a pressure cooker. But really I feel more stupid every time I put on my helmet.

I have yet to write a short story in the longest time. I feel like I should start working on one now, but every time I book out, I feel like I have so little time to waste. I always feel like I'm not maximising my time outside of camp. But the good news is if I'm still alive by next weekend, it would mean I have cleared the worst of my BMT life: field camp.

***

The quiet man sat in the corner, unnoticed and ignored. If he had ambition, it had died with his youth. His face was not yet lined with age, but the youth had long since fled his feautres; his eyes had long since lost it's shine - the spark of promise and potential no longer glimmered within, and he had a certain tautness to his face that came from the rigours of surviving the day to day routines of life.

Where had all his youth gone? was the question he found himself asking more often with each passing day. All his life, it seems like he had waited. Waited for opportunities. They had come and gone, while he told himself he would always take the next one. He was always too afraid, too unsure, too unwilling to take the chance, and now chance was too unwilling to take him on. He had spent his whole life waiting.

***

I know the story above is far from complete, but I just wrote down what came to my mind. I don't know why, but it just popped into my head.

see you on this side or the other

2011-05-17T13:36:00.003+08:00

Today is the first day out of army since I entered about 12 days ago. I have come to several realisations. To wit, 1. I am not made for the army; and 2. I have a far weaker will and body than I have previously assumed (and my assumptions were already subpar ['how low can you go?']). But then perhaps I always knew that.

This entire post is going to be me ranting about army life and other social injustices, so if this offends you in any way just feel free to stop reading here. I enjoy complaining, so I will. Before anyone lambasts me about complaining about NS life, I will say this first. Do not forget that while I do complain, I still serve. And that is key. Do not forget that while I may whine, that I may resent or even regret my service, I will still serve, if only ultimately because I still love this country enough to do it. I do not consider myself a patriot, but I will serve. Do not forget that ultimately I have given up my freedoms, so that I may defend yours.

I am a person who considers his personal freedoms very dear. I prize them above many other things. The past 11 days has been that much worse for that, because never before in my life, has the privilege of freedom been so throughly stripped and taken from me. I have been spoilt and pampered my entire life, that is true, and have always taken my freedoms for granted. If nothing else, I suppose army will teach me to treasure these things more.

The promise of tomorrow seems to hold no meaning for me in the army. the alarm going off at 4.30 and ringing all the way to about 5 has become a staple addition to my day, and everyday I open my eyes and stare at the cieling thinking about how I would just like to survive the day. I would like to portray myself as a stronger individual, someone who can say that they have gained and learned from their experiences in the army, someone who can say that they are better off now that they have served, but I cannot bring myself to do that.

I also understand that as a recruit you are the lowest being in the chain of existence. You are lower than the shit on the heels of the boots you are wearing, because even shit has some meaning to their existence. Sometimes I think people forget that recruits are humans too. Not because we are punished and humiliated to the point where we are not even treated as human beings, I'll qualify this statement by saying that we are still treated as human beings, with dignity, and are not tortured, and by any measure still considered to be well treated by any standards. But when I see people 'Stomping' recruits on Stomp, I feel the injustice of it all. I understand that as a soldier in the army you represent the organisation. I understand that people have expectations of the military, and yes I understand that getting your maid to carry your field pack is ridiculous. But things like talking on your handphone while walking, or slipping off into sleep while in public, that is something I cannot understand. You will not afford your soldiers the same freedoms afforded to civillians despite the fact that they are working to uphold those very freedoms. The way we treat our recruits reflect how much we care for the people who defend us. I would have expected appreciation and gratitude to be in order. I understand that it is a duty, and as such I do not expect compensation. But gratitude goes a long way. It is the humane difference between knowing that someone understands and cares the effort that you are putting in, and feeling like you are shunned and mistreated by the very people whose lives you swear to protect. Society does not seem to understand or forgive the small slipups and lapses in behaviour, and while I know that we should try our best to uphold the reputation and image of the organisation, we are only human.

I don't know if this bookout was the best thing or not. Somehow I feel life might have been more bearable if I did not bookout at all. I just thrust myself into a world of sin the moment I booked out. Half a bag of kitkats, 1 row of tim tam, and 1 meal of Macdonalds, and maybe a meal of Pizza Hut later. The taste of these freedoms, and seeing normal civillians going about with their lives (meaning just doing whatever the fuck they want), just makes me feel so restricted and - for lack of a better word - depressed. I am the blind man who has been given the taste of sight. I cannot miss what I never had, and now that I had it, it will feel all the worse when I give it up. Being in the army makes me feel like I am Frodo or something (of course my trials are nothing compared to his), when he was in Mordor, and he says to Sam:

"No, Sam. I can't recall the taste of food, nor the sound of water, nor the touch of grass. Instead I'm... naked in the dark."

In the end the only consolation I can feel now is the fact that this too will pass. It's like when we're getting punished or holding in position, someone will always shout out 'endure' or something similar before being told to shut the fuck up. That is it, really. Endure. It's like the song in Annie, "Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love ya, tomorrow, you're only a day away~". I like to think about the promise of tomorrow. But sometimes, I feel like the song should have went, "you're always a day away~". And during these few months, I expect this feeling will come more so than ever.

My only takeaway from army thus far is this: "suck it up".

there be none so jade as he

2011-04-25T18:51:00.002+08:00

It is the rare occasion that I venture to the gym. Not because I have any interest in 'buffing up', or that I enjoy excercising (for the record, I don't enjoy it, I detest it). I make these visits either because my parents pressure me into getting some semblance of fitness before I enlist in the army (lest I end up dropping dead inside from my general unfit condition), or my apathetic teenage self finally cares enough to 'maintain my "fitness"' (whatever that means).

Anyway. Somehow every time I go to the gym, there are these middle aged women already there working the treadmills. When I say working the treadmills, I mean working the treadmills. Like hamsters. On steroids. A lot of steroids. Whether it is mere coincidence that I see them there whenever I go, of if they secretly track my irregular appearances and created a schedule for my random gym times, I will never know. Or maybe they are just always there. Who knows.

But these middle aged women. They are like Energizer bunnies. They never stop. They'll be there running before I arrive. And they will still be there after I throw in the towel, panting and nearly dying from exhaustion. The problem is I can almost feel them judging me. I mean I'm supposed to be at the peak of my youth, but here I am getting schooled in gym (sounds like a porn plot) by these older women. Seriously I feel them looking at me, and I can almost hear them thinking, "Pfft, weakling." Or if they read too much Shakespeare, "There be none so jade as he!"

And I feel like shouting at them, "What do you want from me? So I don't go to the gym everyday. So I don't excercise. As a matter of fact I hate excercising. I'm an awkward teenage nerd who couldn't care less about jogging tracks and pumping iron. Also, I'm asthmatic. What's your excuse? You probably married too early, had a child at thirty, now you're forty, and you're here trying to look like you were twenty."

I think it is the eternal struggle trying to keep looking as young as possible. I don't know if I have the will or the inclination to bother working out next time to avoid getting fat. I mean by the time I am forty, my balding pate would miss the company of the protruding paunch. I appreciate what those women were trying to do, I mean some of them maintained some semblance of hotness, even if they were somewhat old. Sometimes I think we spend too much time trying to get to our twenties, and we spend the rest of our lives trying to stay there.

***

If you add "if you know what I mean" to a statement, it gains some kind of sexual connotation. It seems everything we say can somehow be construed sexually. If you know what I mean.

so apparently law law is really about jaw jaw

2011-04-16T21:26:00.003+08:00

Her: You can't be that desperate.

Him: Oh, but I can be that desperate. You see, I'm a chinese Singporean male with an English education from one of the top schools in Singapore. Boys like me go for a type of girl. But girls like you are in short supply. Worse still, you all seem to prefer to go for these caucasian men. Are they smarter? No. More handsome? Maybe. But they certainly have bigger dicks. How does a man compete with that? Singaporean men today are left marrying Vietnamese, and God forbid, Chinese nationals who don't love them so much as they love their Singaporean citizenship. The thought of me marrying one of those... women. (beat) (draws in breath) Nope, can't think of it. I in no way can connect to them on any level that would constitute an intimate relationship of any kind. So yes. Yes, I can be so very, very desperate.

***

I have for my entire life hated writing on my notes, doodling on the sides, writing on a blank sheet, and I envy those who can just scribble and vandalise their notes without care. You see, seeing the white pristine sheet, uncorrupted and untainted by anything or anyone, makes me profoundly unwilling to be the one who takes that purity away. I don't know, it has always been one of those tics of mine. Sometimes I do vandalise my notes. In fact most of my jc notes are pretty badly vandalised. But then I feel sad afterwards, because they can no longer be returned to their clean and undamaged state.

I don't know, maybe I just worry that my influence is corrupting or that I have a tainting quality on people. Maybe I worry I'm just a bad influence.

i may not know a lot about fashion, but...

2011-03-29T22:56:00.003+08:00

The douche-iest attire conceivable:

- Air cap (wearing a baseball cap so that it just sits on your head such that your head does not fill the cap but rather air does, hence the name)

+50 douche rating
Racial bonus: Malays +10 douche rating

- Polo tee with popped collar (only 2 kinds of people wear their clothes with popped collars; retards and vampires. Or if you're Edward Cullen, you fulfill both these criteria)

+100 douche rating
Racial bonus: -100 douche rating if you are a vampire

- Bluetooth headset (I get that you're an important business man who needs to be contactable at all times, but nothing says dickhead more convincingly than a metalic earpiece sticking out from the side of your head)

+30 douche rating
Negated if you are balding

- Crocs (Rubber. Shoes. 'Nuff said. Seriously we as a people have become so lazy that not only do our shoes have to be slipped on, they have to be able to be hosed down too)

+50 douche rating
Age bonus: for every year after thhe age of 5 +1 to your douche rating

- Pants that are too loose for the waist, and seem to be held up by the knees (lookin' like a fool with your pants on the ground)

+150 douche rating
Age bonus: if you are in your teens +50 douche rating
Set bonus: if worn with any sort of bling +10 douche rating

Set bonus: if all the pieces are equiped togther

+1000 douche rating
People have the right to openly scorn you in public

tldr: politics is boring

2011-03-23T02:17:00.002+08:00

One of the reasons I refrain from posting about politics, Singapore politics in particular, is because I don't read about it. The main reason for this is because Singaporean politics is excruciatingly boring (I actually spend more time reading up on politics in other countries). These few weeks the papers have been reporting about the upcoming elections, and truth be told I just breeze past the election news.

To me Singapore doesn't really have an opposition party. It comes off as strange why we even have elections any more. I don't even know what the opposition party stands for. I don't know what policies they want, I don't know what their views are on education, I don't know how they want the budget split. You may go, 'Well there's the problem, you're just one of those apathetic assholes.' And you would be right, because I can't be bothered to find out about our opposition, because they can't be bothered to let me know about what they're going on about. I would gladly listen if the opposition had some distinct and different views from the PAP, if they had arguments or policies that were unique or groundbreaking. I firmly believe that it is the opposition's duty to get their policies across to the people. My case in point is that I don't know anything about the opposition, and they certainly aren't trying hard enough to let me know.

In class we had discussed Singapore's hegemony, and whether Singapore had a counter hegemony of any sort. I didn't believe so. I believed that the opposition was an extention of the PAP's hegemony. They did not have any sort of counter narrative, they basically wanted to tell the same story, maybe in a slightly different way, but the same story all the same.

To be completely honest, I am not usually overly concerned with politics and the sort. Had I the right to vote and the opportunity to excercise that vote I suppose I could be more interested, but barely so I would imagine. Politics in Singapore just doesn't have that bite and candor that the British parliament has (it is so refreshing to see grown men and women joust and poke at each other in a rowdy fashion while dressed in suits). Granted one could say that is why British parliament is inefficient, one could also say that is why it is interesting. American politics stuck in the eternal deadlock of the two party system is soemtimes rewarding to follow. Not because it is in and of itself entertaining, but because all the late night shows on the cable networks make amusing takes on the state of politics in the country.

The Singapore environment, while arguably the best form of governance and politics suited to our country and people, is also the most whitewashed and boring. I think Professor Kishore Mabubani once questioned if Singapore could continue to have excellent governance in the next 50 years, not just good, but excellent governance. Because that is what it takes to sustain the miracle that is the Singapore story. A comprehensive vision and the political will to sustain it, something I believe that in all the parties Singapore has, only the PAP has at the moment.

I know everyone is going to be like, what are you, a PAP dog? And I hate to be such. I really do. But given the state of opposition, or lack thereof, I would much prefer the dynasty to continue.

rants of an unemployed man

2011-03-09T18:42:00.003+08:00

Neon Trees. Girl Drummer. 'Nuff said.

***

Recently (okay not so recently any more because I have been putting off this post for the longest time) on the news there were these statistics about how there were one of the fewest female directors for Singaporean companies. There were also talks about how there should be a more balanced ratio of foreign workers in workplaces, which triggered a slew of responses in the forum about racial ratios in workplaces. One of the forum suggestions went as far as to suggest a racial quota, not unlike that of a HDB racial quota. Similarly, while it was not explicitly mentioned, a quota for female directors for local companies seemed to be suggested as well.

Now I am not against having more female directors in companies, nor am I against racial diversity in the workplace. But I am however very strongly against quotas of any sort. The moment you bring in the word 'quota' into any discussion involving a position that has to be earned, it immediately undermines the entire principle of meritocracy. Because Singapore is built on this principle, and because I myself believe it to be the best system in the world I believe that quotas have no place in the workplace.

Having a quota just signals the fact that the person who gets the job did not get the job because s/he was the most capable, but because there was a number to fulfill. It undermines the effort and the ability invested, and it reduces the selection process of stringent testing to a selection of luck of the draw. The problem with quotas is that if the "desired" ratio is already fulfilled via meritocratic selection, there would be no need to impose the quota in the first place.

I just find that there is no reason to obsess over the lack of female staff or the lack of racial diversity. I do not understand why people believe that it is important. If we truly believe in the equality of genders and the equality of races, a quota would destroy that belief. A quota simply says to me that the genders are inherently unequal, or that there is a superior race after all. Why else would the other party need a leg up?

***

On another matter of race, MM Lee mentioned in his many Hard Truths for Singapore that he believed that Malays were not racially integrated (he did retract his statement afterwards). This of course drew a lot of flak from the Malay community. And they were all raging about how this was untrue, which sort of proved MM Lee's initial point. I believe that the only way for races and religions to reconcile their differences is to stop talking about it. The more heated the discussions get, the more differences you are apt to bring up. In the end the basic idea is the same, that we are all human beings and in that we are the same. But if you keep talking about matters of race, the only things you will see are the differences, because that is all you will ever talk about.

Stop talking about the differences. It's like when Morgan Freeman was asked what he thought about Black History Month, he said he didn't want it. When asked how then could Whites and Blacks reconcile their differences he simply replied 'stop talking about it'. And that to me seems like the solution. Seriously how does shouting about how different we are make it any easier to reconcile that?

***

One of the hottest topics around now is social mobility, the idea that anyone in Singapore can move up the ladder. The sad reality of the situation is that the rich have an easier time moving up than the poor, because of the inherent advantages of being born rich. Which is perhaps the first lesson in life that so many people don't seem to understand - life is unfair.

Of course there are many opportunities for the poor to move up. But seriously, we are born unequal. Some people are just smarter than others. There is no denying that. The statistics that the government officials have been citing like how the top 5% of the PSLE cohort is distributed among 95% of schools does not prove that social mobility is possible for the poor. It merely proves that even if smart people go to a non-elite primary school it is possible for them to achieve good results.

The idea that rich people fare better because they can afford tuition has some truth to it, but more often than not natural ability is key in deciding a child's future. A parent's involvement in a child's education is actually more important than tuition, and just having books in the house can help a lot (there are studies that show this). Books are not cheap, I know. But second hand books are affordable, and library books are free. I grew up in the library, once a week and a maxed out library card (I do regret that I don't do this any more though). It can be done. A computer is no longer a luxury afforded only by the richest of the richest. Unless you are desperately poor, I would wager you would have access to a computer and the internet. Which is key to this generation of children. Almost anything you should care to learn about can be researched on the net. The burden of responsibility then belongs to the child to fulfill his thirst for knowledge.

I loathe the idea that tuition is setting an uneven playing field. What can be tutored can also be studied alone. It is disgusting to see parents write in and hail tuition as the is all end all for a level playing field in Singapore. There was this parent who wrote in to the forum suggesting the use of edusave on tuition fees. It was ridiculous. It is the whining and complaining that really gets to me. Tuition is not and will never be the solution to solving inequality, nor will it guaruntee your child's admission to a supposedly 'premier' institution.

But what irks me the most is when parents complain about the admission requirements for 'elite' schools like Raffles and Hwa Chong in Singapore. I believe that the cut off for Hwa Chong in recent years has been something like 3-4 points. And the complaints that the parents have about this. I understand that a lot of parents believe that IP causes the admission requirements to be so stringent, which is probably true in a way. But it is not as if IP was not offered to their own children. They just missed that boat. So I really don't see how complaining about IP helps things.

The thing that really gets on my nerves when parents complain about the stringent cut offs is that it is ultimately ironic. They only wish their children made the cut off because of the school's prestige, and the school's prestige only comes from the stringent cut off. If say the requirements were relaxed, and any mediocre could make it in (i.e. those parent's children) then who would want their children in that school?

I know I will come off sounding elitist about this. But honestly, I truly believe this. The world is unfair, yes. But complaining about it isn't going to help. Yes I love complaining about things too. But honestly, how did something like this become a national issue? At the risk of sounding callous, or basically like a total asshole: suck it up.

i've got soul but i'm not a soldier

2011-03-05T18:24:00.005+08:00

How can someone go from having no choices to having too many choices? My teacher in school once taught us the distinction between freedom to choose and freedom of choice. Many of us believe that we have the freedom of choice, but instead what we do have is the freedom to choose. We have the freedom to choose from the options circumstance allows us, but we do not have the freedom to choose whatever we want. Some may say that this is merely a semantic quibble, and that the difference is insignificant and trivial. But it makes all the difference to me.

***

I always fill in the titles to my posts the last. Not only because I have no idea what I am going to write in my posts, but because I believe that titles are the most important part of a book or an essay. I have also come to the conclusion that the cover is the most important part of a book. It determines if the content is going to be even read. I used to believe that one could make up for his looks by having personality. And it probably is true, because personality does go a long way. But the thing is, what's the point of personality if no one wants to discover it? I've long ignored the saying "do not judge a book by its cover", even if it is sound advice. I stereotype. It's easier.

***

Recently I have gotten hooked. I spend hours and hours on it, and often I wonder if my time is better spent somewhere else. To be honest, I have only myself to blame. I should have paid attention to the warnings, but it was just too tempting. The coaxing and coersion, and the peer pressure was just too much to resist. On hind sight, it was probably the classic pusher tricks that caught me. I mean the first taste is always free, no?

If anyone asks, yes it is true, I have started playing WoW.

***

I do want you to be happy. But I would be lying if I said that I want you to be happier without me than with.

you should date a gamer

2011-03-02T01:09:00.009+08:00

Date a guy who plays video games. Find him in the dark, smoky corner of a LAN shop. Find him sitting at a terminal, the small frown of concentration lacing his forehead as he chases his passions on a glowing screen. (Or find him in his mother's basement, his face awash in perpetual glow)

Ask him out. Wait patiently as he stutters out his answers in silence. Try not to feel awkward despite his social ineptitude (the genuine sort, unlike the manufactured hesitations of Michael Cera). He will most definitely say yes, if only to the pretty face. Bring him on a date. Show him the real world.

Make him your special project. Dress him up. Go shopping with him and get him some real clothes. Get him a real haircut. Bring him to a real restaurant with real food to make him forget the taste of the thousand television dinners past. Ignore the snide comments and pointed remarks by your friends. Allow him to grow on you.

In turn let him show you his world. Marvel at the intricacies of the virtual, marvel at his monolith of commitment, marvel at the nerdiness of it all. Listen patiently, but not patronisingly (and never condescendingly), to his tales and plans to save the world. Make an effort to memorise the move lists and names of his favourite fighting game character, and cheer him on as he makes his rounds at the arcade.

Date a guy who plays video games because he understands commitment and loyalty. A guy who games understands the dedication required to mold a virtual character, and the effort needed to foster online relationships. He has the unwavering purpose to participate in twelve hour raids. He has indubitable loyalty as he understands the kinship of a guild and appropriates the required reciprocation, sometimes more.

Date a guy who plays video games because he never gives up, and he will never give up on you. A guy who games will perservere to the last pixel of life, in the unyielding belief of a comeback. A guy who games will never give up because he understands that in DotA the real game begins 50 mintues in the game with only one barracks standing.

Date a guy who games because he understands love in his own cliched awkward way. He has collected the flags in a hundred visual novels. He understands the importance of a romance side plot, and damn did he cry when Aerith died, if only because it felt his one true love died as well.

Date a guy who games because, dammit, no one else will.

michael jordan creates the best nike advertisements

2011-02-23T16:18:00.003+08:00

The procrastinator in me wants nothing more than to wait till tomorrow, and even then it seems too soon to be doing anything. I have pathetic discipline and non-existant internal drive. It feels like everything worthwhile I have done was for someone else. That is strange, considering I believe in the saying "if you do something for nothing, do it for yourself".

I saw a Nike advertisement the other day, and it got stuck in my mind. It was just a huge billboard with giant block text reading "Yesterday you said tomorrow" and below in smaller font was the iconic "Just do it" with the tick for correctness. Nike has one of the best slogans around. Almost nothing can quite come close to the simple elegance of the line and the message it holds. I still remember a time when Nike was all the rage, and everyone wanted a pair. I used to refuse buying any other brand but Nike, and now I own more Adidas than anything else. I guess I was just going through a phase (and the snarky teenager in me would go "life is a phase" and think that was very clever).

That's another thing. I somehow find one liners really clever. Even though most of them sound clever in and of themselves, they have little meaning. Most of them are clever metaphors which sound really deep but collapse upon scrutiny.

I don't really know what I am rambling about any more. I think for future posts I'll try posting whatever comes to mind. The reason why I post so slowly is because there are hundreds of saved but unpublished posts lining my account. It has always been one word typed and 2 words backspaced for me. I'll try a new approach now. I have been uninspired for months now. Maybe for my whole life. But if I plan on making a living on creativity, I think I need to step up my game.

roll your initiative

2011-02-14T17:30:00.002+08:00

I don't know why so many people put so much improtance on first times. Yeah I admit that I do worry about that. And I used to worry about first times a lot more. But there will be many first times. There will be more than one first kiss, more than one first love. Doesn't the last time matter so much more than the first? Unless you live like your first time will be your last time, in which case it probably will be.

But honestly, who cares about all the other times? What really matters is the very last time.

***

The ancient Greeks believed that humans were originally born with 4 arms, 4 legs, and 2 faces on the same head, but Zeus fearing their power split them into two. Plato believed that we spend our entire lives searching for our one true soulmate to complete ourselves. Again like Plato's belief in true forms, this presents an ideal state.

I always had a weakness for ideals. For a cynic, I find myself oddly romantic.

***

I don't know why I'm writing so much about love. Maybe because today is Forever Alone Day that I somehow feel obliged to write this.

***

I have problems with letting go of things. I hold on to the most insignificant things, placing ridiculous values on them. I have several boxes devoted to holding such things, from the congratulatory note my primary 1 teacher gave me for scoring full marks on a math test to the slips of paper of scribbled contacts of aquaintances and friends both old and new. I am reluctant to let go of anything, life clothes that don't fit anymore to toys I don't play with anymore.

Maybe I'm just afraid that if I let those things go, someone else would find a better use for them. I am selfish in that way, and I try not to be. I really do.

***

In tears we find the comfort of release, and the relief of expression. Nothing quite says "I am happy" or "I am devastated" as a torrent of salt water streaming down the cheeks. Never let the world rob you of these tears. Never be afraid to show that you know the difference of what could be, what should be, and what is. Our ability to project outcomes is one of the key differences which set us apart as humans, instead of beasts.

It is this same ability, however, that robs us of our happiness by projecting otherwise unrealistic outcomes or grossly overestimated endings. It is the reason why we are so afraid to try anything, because we believe the outcome much worse than what it actually is. But because of this, we can hope.

shorter and shorter

2011-01-23T15:58:00.004+08:00

I read this before somewhere and I'm paraphrasing this idea but it goes something like this:

The fundamental purpose of language is to communicate experiences. But in all its success, human language is horribly limited. We are not alone in this, both in our desires to communicate and the vast limitations we face. Afterall, animals have their own calls and roars, rituals and dances. In comparison our languages would appear evolved and superior.

But in the whole animal kingdom, we would be the only ones painfully aware of the limitations of our language, and in that realisation painfully alone with the inability to fully transfer our experiences to another human being.

benjamin button had it right

2011-01-14T01:41:00.002+08:00

I've always had this feeling that life is backwards. By the time you're able to do what you want you're too old to do it. Like if I wanted to grow out my hair. It would take years to do it. Some men bald before 30. By the time we're able to do anything we wanted we wouldn't be able to do them any more.

What is the point of earning so much money if you're not going to be able to spend them on things you want to by the time you get enough (the concept of enough is difficult to capture and is relative to everyone, but for the sake of simplicity we can take the general sense of the word, and in this case enough money to survive and afford leisure). By the time you hit thirty it's time to start a family if you ever want one. What then?

Seriously by the time you can afford that Ferrari, you're too old to be driving one. The other day I saw 2 old men sitting in a Ferrari 2 seater, and it just didn't feel right. At that age, the only car you should drive is a Toyota. Or you should be sitting at the back of a Rolls Royce.

This example I borrow form SMBC, but it's true nonetheless. Let's say you always wanted to eat Oreo breaded fried chicken. Obviously, your parents won't let you eat it. By the time you're old enough to make your own, you probably will not be able to stomach it.

And that's life really.

and the void did stare back

2011-01-05T01:57:00.002+08:00

I was thinking back to my A level examinations (not the best thing to do, I know), and was remembering some of the things that happened. Sure it was not something one could pass off as forgetable - I still remember almost every painful minute of racing my pen hand with the minute hand, the sinking despair of crushing a half filled paper while reaching for a clean sheet to redo a question on, the brief spells of inaction as a mental block settles in for the literature paper...

But one of the memories that sticks out the clearest to me was after my literature paper in the hall. I was so sure I saw the true face of evil that day. After every examination, we were required to pass all unused pieces of paper to the front. There was this one particular person (I am hesitant to use this word for him. It would seem inadequate a label to group him with the rest of our species. Simplicity's sake) at whom the papers stopped. He wasn't passing them forward. Instead he was taking whatever papers were passed to him and crushing them up. Blank pieces of paper. And all the time while he was doing that he had this smile on his face, as if he was privy to the most amusing secrets of the universe. To be more precise it was more of a smirk than a smile. And the whole incident sent shivers down my spine when I saw it. I was disgusted by his actions. There was no other way to discribe the feelings I felt at the time. Disgusted is as close as I can muster with my inadequate vocabulary, and even then it falls short of actually describing anything.

But all this while as his fists pummeled the unused pieces of paper into crushed balls of waste, his face wore the most peculiar expression. It wasn't just that smirk on his face that was getting to me. It was that he wore this expression that seemed to betray stupid. There is no better way to put this. He was emnating the aura of stupid, and it was coming off him in waves and droves. And it was then that I was convinced that he was evil. Because I stared into the depths of his face and stupid stared back. Packed into that self satisfied smirk of his, as if he was accomplishing a great feat, or displaying a stroke of genius self expression. That face of his as he crushed up those unused pieces of paper will forever be etched into my memory, and will forever be the final memory of my dreaded journey.

did you ever stop to think...

2011-01-02T12:02:00.002+08:00

The people who design bathrooms have to be the same people who design concert halls and recording studios. I can only sound good in the bath. Preferably while showering. I could probably record whole albums in there and sell them to platinum or something. And then people could sing along to them while they take their own showers.

***

The other day I was sitting next to this dude on the train and he was mummbling to himself. Now this isn't the first time I've seen people talk to themselves. I was a little disturbed, but then I remembered that I talked to myself all the time too. But I usually stop when I'm in front of other people. I don't know why but apparently it's a social faux pas to talk to yourself. So I'm thinking, maybe this guy just forgot to turn his off.

***

Is it strange that while others look out for the time 11:11, I look out for the time 13:37? After all 11:11 comes twice a day, but 13:37 only comes once a day. Got to make these things count, you know?

senior year

2010-12-31T22:04:00.002+08:00

2010 was ok i guess. I managed to do a few things i wanted to do. Ok let's see...

- Wrote and directed a play
- Performed in 3 concerts
- Took my SATs
- Won a Commonwealth essay prize (nothing spectecular, but I take what I can get. And anyway I've been trying to win something forever)
- Took my A levels
- Fell in love (but got thrown out of it. Pretty hard)
- Finally played D&D (yeah just getting my nerd cred up aight? turned out more tedious than I expected)

All in all this year wasn't too bad.

I posted before that I believed that I didn't believe in new year resolutions. But I'll make a few anyway and try to keep to them. I could wish for a lot of things next year. But for now, I'll just say this:

Be kind, 2011.

he had black hair and a bad attitude

2010-12-30T01:23:00.002+08:00

The title is officially my new favourite description.

Japan was great. What's there not to like? Admittedly after eating Japanese food for like the 8th day in a row it got pretty sickening. But seriously, the girls in Japan are h-o-o-o-o-o-t-t-t-t. Okay, so I admit to having a little bit of a Japanese fetish, but anyone would have to agree that the standard of girls in Japan are on average better than in Singapore. And in Japan (at least in Tokyo, it seems to be easier in Osaka) you would be hard pressed to find a fat person. How awesome is that?

I think I've said this before but I'll say it again: I think caucasians on average look better than asians, but the best looking asians trash the best looking caucasians any day. Just too bad there aren't enough of these lookers around.

I think Singapore could learn a thing or two about courtesy from Japan. Singaporean society has progressed too quickly in terms of economy that I find the culture and behaviour of the people sorely lacking. Yes, I know I belong to this society as well, and yes I am very painfully aware of the fact that I am not the best role model around, but honestly I do try. I really do.

In Tokyo you would see people really obeying the keep to the left on escalators rule. Seriously they would queue to get onto the escalator in single file so if you wanted to walk on the escalator you could take the right side with relative ease and no obstruction. Now why am I being so uptight about this seemingly small detail? Because just today (or rather yesterday) I got gang blocked by this family of four on the escalator while tryingt to catch the train. They cost me another 6 minutes of wait time. Just because they don't want to run for the train doesn't mean others don't want to. It wasn't just that their lack of concern for others that bothered me, it was their sheer disregard for the urgency of a departing train, as if their time was not worth running for a train they could have caught. It was the blatant apathy for their own time that bothered me. Sure I do waste lots of time. And I try not to do that anymore. Because in this world we're all on a clock. And I just don't want to short change myself any more than I have to.

Other simple things that could be learnt is giving up your seat for others on the train and leaving the priority seats empty even if no one else is using them, and clearing one's trays/bowls after having a meal, and cleaning up after oneself. I think these things are sorely lacking and it is a culture that society has to cultivate. It comes from the people and no amount of government campaigns can change that. Sure you can teach people how to aim into the urinal. Sure you could have courtesy campaigns every other year. But these are things that cannot be force fed. It has to be bred from young. The parent in this day seems to have forgotten the immense burden of responsibility entrusted to them by so having a child, and instead deems it society's problem, leaving it to the schools to teach the child right and wrong. In an age where the television is a convenient baby sitter and the teacher makes for an easy moral scapegoat, parents need to step up to the task of raising their own children. There is no cheap alternative, and it will never be easy.

Ultimately I think it starts with self. Practice what you preach. Cliche, I know, but nonetheless true. A teacher once asked me to define a moral action. After many an "uhs" and bad guesses, a moral action was defined as an action involving other human beings. Because unless you answer to a higher power, there is nothing to police your actions when you are alone, therefore the only time your actions can have any moral meaning is when they interact with other moral agents, or other people.

I guess what I am trying to say is we have to be civil to be able to claim to be a civilisation, we have to have culture to claim to be cultured, and we have to be people if we claim to live in a society.

the man who can't be moved by the script

2010-12-15T23:54:00.003+08:00

From time to time I feel this insane pressure to write. It's almost as if all my self worth comes from writing, that if I stop, I would cease to mean anything to myself. Who knows, maybe I will.

The Straits Times (yeah I started reading it again. Not as regularly, because when you feel like you're living in the US time zone, it's hard to do anything regularly in Singapore) today reported that the average teen in Singapore scored pretty well in some global IQ test thing, that tests students in their ability to apply math, science and reading to real world skills. (Incidentally what does that mean? How do you apply math to real world problems? The only uses for math I had so far stopped at +-*/)

But then the children here don't seem to be very creative at all, even with all their smarts. And it's easy to see how they might turn out this way. Maybe they attended school in Singapore. The article today referenced Ken Robinson, the guy who believed that children were educated out of creativity in schools, and I believe I've posted about this before. I bought into Robinson's theory the very first time I watched him on Ted Talks. And I feel like I myself have been educated out of creativity. Maybe I'm just making excuses for myself and I wasn't very creative to begin with. Whatever. Point is I just don't feel very creative now.

***

Thinking back to my very first KI (some pseudo philo shite) lesson, I remember we were given this article called The Absurd to read and think about. I might still have it buried beneath all the trash in my room. The article detailed how insignificant our lives were and how small we were in the great works of the universe. Come to think about it, I don't really remember much about it any more. But the teachers had told us that if we ever got lost in KI, we should just go back and read it. I have never understood why.

***

Feels like the past week has been lived in some kind of drunken stupor. Post exams always leaves me feeling like this. But this year feels worse than most. Maybe because this is the landmark exam, like the final boss or something. The only time I think I've felt this shitty was during the June holidays of secondary 2, when I spent all day long on the computer playing games. Skipping lunch, skipping sleep, skipping life.

Feels like I'm regressing into that now.

it's not a race, guys

2010-12-08T21:14:00.002+08:00

in a perfect world, fishes wouldn't have bones and limes wouldn't be overly sour

2010-12-01T17:14:00.005+08:00

JOHN

He plays right into his own stereotype, doesn’t he? I mean, it’s the clothes he wears. That cardigan? Come on. Where did he get that? Indie clichés? And his spectacles. Black square thick-frames? They’re just... so...

CASEY

Retro?

JOHN

Exactly. Retro. And did you see him walking around school the other day? He was reading poetry. Who does that? And it’s not like he’s just posing, he actually enjoys the stuff. I mean I read the occasional stanza, but let’s just say I don’t make it a habit.

CASEY

(shrugs) Hey to each his own, yeah? Why do you care so much anyway?

JOHN

It’s like he fits right into his own cliché. He has the whole package packed neatly into that offensively handsome mug. He’s this rich, literature buff.

CASEY

He’s rich?

JOHN

Yeah, at least his grandfather is. Which means his father is rich, and his uncles are rich, he is rich, you get the point.

CASEY

True that. (laughs) The only thing left to finish the picture is that he has to be gay.

JOHN

Either that or a playboy. I don’t think he’s gay though. I saw him the other day in Starbucks with some girls. Of course, he could be just hanging with his gal pals. But no, really, I don’t think he’s gay.

CASEY

So just a playboy then?

JOHN

Yeah. Did you hear his SMS ringtone the other day?

CASEY

No, what was it?

JOHN

It was the Pokémon centre healing music. You know, the ding ding ding ding ding (He sings the tune). Seriously, he just plays right into his own stereotype.

Recently I've gotten round to writing some random shit again. This entire conversation just popped into my head. I don't even know what it's supposed to be. Maybe just my subconscious ranting.

I haven't been following the news recently. After A levels it just felt as if I died. It's only been what 5 days since I finished my last paper, but it feels like forever. I don't know, but I was reading somewhere that our perception of time is all relative to how long we live. And it does feel like that. I feel as if the years are getting shorter as I get older. And then I wonder what happens if I were immortal. Every passing year would feel like seconds, and no relationship would have sustainable meaning, unless it lasted forever.

And sometimes I feel it's the same for our lives now, even if we were merely mortal. Our relationships with each other seem so fragile and fleeting, that if only they would last forever, that would give them some meaning. Or maybe that's just me.

after great pain... yeah you know the rest

2010-11-25T21:58:00.004+08:00

It's been a while. It's about 13 hours till I finish what is promised to be the hardest test I will ever have to take, and to the rest of my life.

What then? is the question I keep asking myself. Overall the journey has been disappointing. I have proven once again that I lack the ability to grow. If my abilities had a cap, I swear I reached them in primary school. I will get what's due, I think. Some people burned out before the exams started. I find that I had barely gotten started. And now it's already over.

This may seem like I'm wallowing in self pity or something. And sometimes I think I do that. I try not to, because honestly everything that has happened to me so far, I have brought upon myself. I am a sum of my failures. But it's not too late, I think, to change. Not yet at least.

/rant

I try not to rant too much, but that's all I seem to be doing here recently. But what's the point of maintaining a blog if you don't get to rant? It seems so counterintuitive.

***

My dreams have been haunting me recently. In my dreams I'm always so close to achieving what I want. Or worse still, I already have what I want. Then I wake up. It's like what Caliban says in The Tempest:

...in dreaming,
The clouds methought would open and show riches
Ready to drop upon me, that when I waked
I cried to dream again.

Honestly, I think at some point of our lives or another we wished that we were someone else. Anyone else. And often I felt that I would rather trade all intelligence I had and whatever skills I possessed (however paltry) for a more outgoing personality. I don't mind being quiet, and I'm content with the people I know. But honestly, I know that many people consider me somewhat difficult to approach. And I am a difficult person. But I try not to be.

Come December, and I would finally know. The answer I've been waiting for almost 8 months. "Boldness, be my friend."

i'll study law just to be a hanging judge

2010-11-05T22:13:00.002+08:00

Recently, the news had gotten a lot more sensational. Seriously, teenager gets hacked to death with choppers in public? It's like the kind of thing you never expect to see in Singapore. I think everyone would know what I'm talking about, it has to be like the most talked about story in ages. So anyway the suspects are being charged with murder, which in Singapore is punishable with, *SPOILER ALERT*, hanging.

So now I was thinking if I were the judge, I'd definitely sentence them to hang. It doesn't really matter to me what kind of defence their lawyers bother to throw up, my mind would already be set on hanging. Sure, the defence might plead for leniency on account of their age. Or argue that it was a crime of passion, and therefore manslaughter. But honestly. When you think about it, those people hacked another human being to death with choppers for staring at them. Yeah, you didn't misread that, staring. I mean, sure if you want to beat him up for staring go ahead. But to kill him. Call me crazy, but I consider that an overreaction. Their crime to me wasn't that they murdered the boy. I think their crime is something much more serious. It was the reason they murdered the boy. How can anyone rationalise killing another human being for staring? I would sentence them to hang for their cardinal sin of stupidity. Quite frankly, those boys were too stupid to live.

Now I may sound harsh. And this may sound judgmental. And it is. I am judging them here. And I may sound like some elitist prick who thinks himself smarter than others. Truth is, you don't need much brains to know that you shouldn't kill someone just for staring at you. And I truly believe some people are just too stupid to live. In the words of Martin Luther, "Here I stand, I can do no other." And I will not take that back.

before we knew it, we were too old to die young

2010-10-26T18:55:00.004+08:00

I had a really weird dream last night, and it probably has to do with the fact that some guys I know have recently got into Magic again. And I haven't even played Magic in years. But anyway.

It is dark, and desolate. And for miles on end, there is nothing but acres of swamps, spread in every direction. The world is painted black, and if I close my eyes for a second, for a moment, it doesn't make a difference. The swamps are now cards, and they are laid out before me, thousands and milllions. In neat rows stretching into the infinite. I cannot see where they begin, nor where they end. Just tiers and tiers of cards, blackness, laid before me. They are tapped in turn, one by one, as far as the eye can see. One cannot possibly finish using all that mana. But still they tap. And I am flooded, by the darkness, lost and drowning, sucked into the vortex of black.

***

I don't think I am cracking under pressure yet. I probably still have a long way to go. I don't think I'm exerting any kind of pressure on myself, not enough at least. And yet my dreams have become more disturbed lately. I don't know why.

Nihilism, be it moral nihilism or existential nihilism or nihilism in general is such an easy trap to walk into. It is irrefutable, and impossible to counter. Any argument you can throw against the nihilist will fall prey to his trap. And sometimes it is so easy, so tempting, to give up completely and go with the nihilist.

But I like to think there is something more to life. That there is meaning in this world after all. I do concede that I am hardly appealing to any rational argument. But surely it is only human to wish for some meaning in life? I don't wish to slip into existential crisis or anything, and I think Hume was right (once again) that we shouldn't ponder too long about these things.

And for the sake of argument, I can respect the nihilist's position. But that's all that it can ever amount to - talk. Anything beyond that would be ridiculous. I can respect the nihilist's argument, but I cannot respect the person that holds the nihilist's position.

***

Sometimes I wonder if I ever want to have children. Because I am afraid that my child would turn out to be like me. This is also part of the reason I don't want to be a teacher. I usually get along pretty well with most of my teachers. There have been those who have inspired respect from me, there have been those whom I have just despised. And I'm not shy about these things. I give them attitude when I feel like it. I believe respect has to be earned. I don't want to be a teacher because I know how much shit they have to take, and yet students like me can be ungrateful at times. And sometimes downright disrespectful (in my defence, I have only ever talked back to one teacher before in a manner that would be considered fucking disrespectful).

And as a parent. Who would want their child to turn out like that? I don't think I show my appreciation to my parents enough. Sometimes I am downright rude to them, and I feel really terrible about it. I really try my best to be the best I can be when I'm with them, but seriously sometimes it just slips through the filters when I'm having a bad day. And honestly, I think I disappoint my parents, because I'm one of the laziest underachieving assholes around.

boo-fucking-hoo. Weepfest.

/rant

***

I think the people who say "it's just a game" are the ones who realise that it's anything but.

smell like a man, man

2010-10-24T18:23:00.006+08:00

I was watching the commercial for Old Spice, and I realised that I got totally brainwashed by it. And it's not hard to see why:

After watching it I was pretty convinced (and by pretty I mean 100% sold) that I should buy it to try it. But then here's the thing. I started thinking about what happens if I didn't like the smell of Old Spice. And then I realised that this was exaclty like a perfume ad: we have no access to what they are selling - the smell - and yet we become so very convinced that we should buy their product. Which is stupid, when you think about it. But I have to say, whoever did their advertisement campaign did a very good job. The entire line of advertisements is pretty worth watching.

But then this entire incident had me thinking about a quote from John Green:

"That’s always seemed so ridiculous to me, that people would want to be around someone because they’re pretty. It’s like picking your breakfast cereals based on colo[u]r instead of taste."

And I guess this is why people think that human kind as a whole are a superficial race: because we are.

get me away from here i'm dying

2010-10-23T14:04:00.003+08:00

We take about 12 to 20 breaths a minute without thinking about it. It comes to us naturally, as natural as the grass grows or the wind blows (is that Born Free? I forget.). Sometimes we stop to think about breathing, and it becomes that much harder to breathe. We take in every breath consciously, and it almost becomes a chore. But in time we stop thinking about it, and it becomes easy again, until the next time something reminds you about breathing. And that is life, really. At times we may think about things we don't want to, and living becomes a little harder for that. But we soon forget. How else can we keep living?

I think that is why our memories are so poor.

***

Sometimes I think we care too much about what others might say about us. But then again, isn't that what living in a society means? But then sometimes I feel that Dr. Seuss had it right all along:

"Say what you want and be who you are because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind."

or maybe Jimmy Eat World:

"It doesn't matter if it's good enough/ for someone else."

We ask ourselves what does it matter what others think about us. And we say we don't care what they think. Truth is we care too much. But I'm getting tired of painted smiles and practiced postures. Or maybe it's just me.

***

We talk about social science experiments and one of the favourites that everyone and their mom seems to know about is the marshmallow experiment. They have a term for it. Deffered gratification. In the 1960s, a group of 4 year olds were presented with a marshmallow and told that if they waited 20 minutes before eating it, they would get another. Naturally some kids ate it and some didn't. And those who didn't grew up to be more dependable and better adjusted, and did better academically than their premature gormandizing peers.

Truth be told, I think I'd belong to the group who ate the first marshmallow before I got my second.

brutal stories for brutal men

2010-10-09T12:37:00.006+08:00

I cannot believe that when I first started my life in JC, I was trying to secure 4As. That was about a year and a half ago? That seemed like such a long time ago. Now it feels like I'm just aiming to secure a pass for everything. To be sure, my results from the preliminaries are actually much better than expected, considering the amount of effort invested. But I swear. I swear here and now on this public space so everyone who sees this will hold me to this, I will get at least 2 As for my A levels, discounting the A I already got for PW, and that I will pass every subject, that I will get into a decent university, that I will not flip burgers in Burger King, that by the end of this year I will gather enough courage to do what I have been trying to do since forever, that I will not regret this suubject combination, that I will buy SCII after my A's and play all day, that I will write a book by the age of thirty, that I will get a job I don't hate, and that I will live happily ever after.

That was a bit longer than expected. But if you want to promise something, make it count.

/rant

I have refrained from posting personal things in the beginning, but recently that seems to be all I am posting. I realised since this is a diary of sorts anyway, I might as well get to read in 10 years time what I was like now. I have only unpublished one post so far, which is the only thing I consider too embarrassing for the public to read, but since I'm such a big fan of no censorship, I'll try practicing what I preach.

***

I think that I have known this my entire life, but only now do I actually acknowledge it. I guess that I was never as clever as I would have liked to be, or I was never really smart to begin with. But to be mediocre, that was what I have been fighting against my entire life. And I guess I'm finally giving up. I suppose that that's what I am after all. Deluded mediocrity.

What sucks though, is realising that I'm actually a science student pretending to be an arts student. And I resent that.

***

The tavern stood at the crossroads, and had been there forever. No one knew when it was built - it had belonged to the innkeeper's father, and before that, his father's father - as far as everyone was concerned, it had always been there. The wooden walls were a rainbow of brown - where the rot had set in, the wood had been replaced. The only thing that had gone unreplaced was the sign board of the tavern, which was long gone. The tavern had no name.

The place was usually filled with merry and cheer, and was often bursting with travelers eager for a place to rest, a drink in hand, and an audience for their tales. Tonight, however, on the coldest night of winter, the mood in the tavern was as dark as the starless skies. A lone minstrel was bowing half-heartedly at his fiddle; a sad slow wail to complement the atmosphere. There was a low murmur of chatter from the few patrons in the tavern, but it did not inspire the usual warmth of air of conversation, but rather quite the contrary, the hushed whisper of conspiracy. The innkeeper brooded at the bar, absentmindedly rubbing a dirty glass with a dirtier cloth, staring woefully at the door, as if by willing it he could summon more travelers to plump his dismal crew.

It was then the door flew open, and a gust of winter breeze swept across the threshold. There was a brief moment of silence, as the chatter stopped and the minstrel's fiddle squeaked a note, which passed as the stranger stepped in with the close of the door. His arrival was not heralded with the clatter of hooves - his horse was either lost or dead - and his riding boots were scuffed from travel. His cloak was worn at the hem and laden with dust. Cautiously, he lowered his hood. Although his face was weary, his eyes were alert. Slowly, he crossed the floor towards the bar, his cloak swaying, casually offering the room a glance of the slender blade by his hip.

He took a seat at the bar, and signalled the innkeeper, who just realised he had been staring at the stranger since he entered. Quickly, he filled the glass he was cleaning, and set it on the counter. Without a word, the stranger raised his glass in silent toast, and downed it whole. Setting it down, he signalled for seconds.

The innkeeper reached for the glass and obliged. Licking his lips, almost hesitantly, he asked, "How goeth thy journey, good sir?"

The stranger looked up, and after a prolonged silence, replied, "'Twas long. And hard."

The innkeeper made a motion to speak again. Then he stopped, almost as if he thought better of it. He bit his lower lip, hesitating, then slowly, staring the stranger straight in the eye, he said, "'Twas what she said."

***

If you read the story right to the end, you deserved that stupid ending.

the five point life

2010-09-26T15:35:00.004+08:00

Things I should not have done but will not stop doing any time soon:

1. Find out that Lord of the Rings Online is now free to play. One month before A levels. Only time will tell if I actually manage to stop after 2 days.

2. Discover a new television series. One month before A levels. On a happier note I finished 2 seasons of Chuck in about 4 days give or take. Now on to season 3.

3. Develop an unhealthy sleeping habit which involves sleeping at 3am, waking at 10am, and napping from 3pm to 6pm every day.

4. Pick up 5 new manga series, and start chasing them on a weekly basis on top of the dozens I'm already reading.

5. Develop doubts about my entire academic life so far, and questioning if I should actually be in ITE or poly. Definately not healthy.

At least I haven't bought Starcraft II yet. But the way things are going in my life, I may actually need a break from reality. Then again, isn't this how all the trouble started?

i just wanted a good ending

2010-09-18T12:43:00.005+08:00

He could scarcely believe it. There she was. Right in front of him. The night could not have ended better. Except maybe... No. It won't happen. Not on the first night, perhaps not ever. It was too much to hope for.

It was hard to believe that she had spent the past five hours with him. He smiled. This was what they called a date, wasn't it? It was unreal. He had past stopped listening to what she was saying, and was more intent on studying her. He took luxurious pleasure in noting her every feature, if only because she was so rarely in proximity for him to do such in the past. Their interactions had been few and far between, which made him wonder how he chanced upon this date, if one could be so bold as to consider it a "date", that is.

She was not what many would consider beautiful, or pretty even. If anything, she was... cute. That, at least, seemed to be the consensus on her, at least among his circle of friends. She was, quite frankly, impossibly cute. Though for most part he had always considered "cute" to be a crude four letter word. It was a meaningless word, like most four letter words, like "fine" for example, or "okay", or even "good". But for her the word seemed to take on a new meaning; there was no better way to describe her. She was quite simply cute personified.

There were those who were less than kind about her appearance of course. There were those who had called her fat before. He personally prefered the term shapely. And to be honest, he prefered girls with a bit of flesh to the bones. He couldn't understand how anyone would want a walking stick figure or someone who looked like they would break to a gust of wind. But of course not fat, and certainly, heaven forbid, not fatter than himself. And if anything, her figure added to the overall "cuteness" that was she.

And who was he to complain, or judge, for that matter? He was nowhere near winning any aesthetic competitions. Nor was he body builder material. But thank his good fortunes, whether Lady Luck had smiled upon him or the devil himself had lent him a favour, he did not care, she was presented before his full admiration. Consciously, he knew he was staring, but he couldn't help it. The twist of her hair over her ears, the intelligent glint in her eye, and the way her face scrunched ever so slightly every time she over extended a smile... he could look on forever, and a day. Oh, and her voice - it was a songstress' voice; it wasn't high and unbearable like many of the girls who thought it "cute" to speak that way, nor was it coarse. It had a smooth, lilting quality, like she was in constant song.

But she had stopped talking now, and was gazing at him intently. Intensely. And it was impossible to break her gaze. Then ever so slightly, she moved. Closer, and closer still. Almost too close now, he thought, but secretly he willed her closer yet. And what he was so sure would not happen on the first night, might have well been happening now. Her eyes were half closed now, and he could make out the finer details now, counting each individual lash on her eyelids, as she leaned ever nearer...

He knew she was the one the moment he saw her. But he had always been afraid. And he realised that. He realised he had been afraid his whole life. Which was strange, considering how he acknowledged that almost nothing he did now as a teenager would affect anything that happened in the future. If he had gotten rejected, he would probably forget in the coming year. Or two. But then, he was a teenager, and consequently the world revolved around him, and his concept of now. The present was everything, nothing else mattered, and if it did, he didn't care.

And besides, she was the one. He didn't just feel it; he knew it to be true. Even with his meagre experience at love, he was absolutely certain that she was the one for him. He couldn't explain how he knew, and if he could, he would argue then she couldn't be the one. He could not, no, he would not dismiss this as mere infatuation. This was something more. It just had to be.

Now, she leaned in ever closer, her lips parted with the smallest of cracks. So close he could feel the warmth of her breath brush his cheek. She slipped her hand into his, twining her fingers past his to a clasp. It was then he closed his eyes slowly, welcoming the ensuing void, anticipating the moment when he would feel -

- his eyes snapped open, and the moment passed, as a sinking feeling overcame his being. It was but a dream, and the wonderful night, the date, all of it, a figment of imagination, a dream... all of it but the feelings he had. That, and his inability to act on them. For he was still afraid.

***

Nothing like a depressing story, and a troll ending to give everyone a sense of disappointment. But hey I just felt like writing something like this, don't ask why. Let's just say things have been less than stellar in real life too.

Question now is, why am I wasting like an hour or so on this piece when I should be studying for my Math paper in two days? I don't like to think I've given up. But then again there are some things in life which I wish I could just give up on.

***

The other day we were playing a game against five guys. So two of them left, and then it sparked a pretty big argument on my team. Because I was just like "2 left" and some other dude was like "no" and he kept insisting that "3 left".

Wittgenstein was probably turning in his grave at that moment.

that or a pro gamer

2010-09-10T15:45:00.003+08:00

I wanted a change of pace so I cut my hair short. Too short actually. I almost regret cutting it so short. It's so short my scalp is practially showing on the sides. It's almost like I went to the barber's and asked for a prisoner's haircut and he obliged me. And I think he would have given the same thing if I asked for a retarded hair cut or a gay hair cut. My hair is now so short that I look like one of those retarded people who cut their hair short because they cannot look after themselves otherwise. The only person with a worse haircut than me now is Emma Watson. I loved her with long hair. But at least for her you know she's still hot underneathe it all. Unlike me.

/rant

Anyway I was thinking about Cyril Wong the other day. After all he practically did our entire project work for us with the single interview he gave us. I was thinking about the things he said in the interview. Like

Cyril Wong: I never wanted to be a poet. I wanted to be a writer. Actually, no. I wanted to be a bum who wrote on the side.

And immediately I was like, ME TOO. If ever I had a life ambition, that would be it.

now everyone's happy to see such a beautiful day

2010-08-30T21:34:00.004+08:00

I think the same thing that compels me to listen mostly to indie music compels me to listen to Beethoven. I am a snob that way.

I think the teens of my generation all live in the 90's, and we all blame time for changing that. Ours is the generation that lived through Windows 95, 98, and the all too disappointing y2k. Ours is the generation that had our first gameboy (no colour) at the age of five. I think we will forever hold the original 151 Pokemon better than all the other Pokemon out there.

This is the generation that grew up watching Friends on prime time television. Who lived on a steady diet of Nickelodean (back in their golden age with All That, The Amanda Show, Kenan and Kel, Double Dare, Catdog) and Cartoon Network, watching Pokemon and Power Rangers (the original Mighty Morphin' version) on the weekends, lived through primary school nights with Say it with Music with Jamie Yeo (till this day I still remember the advertisement with Play that Funky Music for her radio show. I have since stopped listening to radio.) and spent the weekends listening to Rick Dees' weekly top 40 on 98.7.

I still have vague memories of a dialup modem, and can still remember the sound that gave it it's namesake. I remember a time when Britney Spears was all that, and listening to Avril Lavigne was actually cool. I remember a time when Skater boy was so popular it might play as often as four times an hour on the radio.

I think that ours is the generation that may have overdosed on American culture, not that I am complaining about that. I have read Catherine Lim's collection Little Ironies, and while I can understand and to some extent appreciate what is happening in those stories, because I have sufficient understanding of Singapore history, I cannot say I have experienced anything in her books. Singapore has changed so much that it is barely recognisable as the same country that our parents lived in. If I were to look at the Singapore of now from five years ago, I think I would barely recognise what it has become.

I loved the 90's and the early 2000s. And I think children born a generation too late have missed out on a lot. The children of this generation have... Miley Cyrus. And... Twilight. Fuck that.

maybe i am stressed after all

2010-08-21T22:27:00.003+08:00

I do not photo well. Photographs are a horrible representation of real life. Maybe because they are too realistic.

But even though I look like total crap in my school class photo, I think I may actually purchase one. Not because I love the people in my class, or because I want a picture of them or anything. I actually couldn't (can't) stand my class. I just want the photo so I have something to show that I attended this school.

For my PSLE, I barely scraped the mark to make the cut off for my school. Till today, I don't feel like I deserve to be there.

my blog should become one of those with lots of nice pictures

2010-08-17T23:40:00.002+08:00

Sometimes I wish that Singapore dollar bills have different people on them. I think I watch too much Hollywood for my own good, but whenever someone wants to bribe their way into somewhere to do something, they'll either palm a note or slip it real cool, and say something like,

"Have you met my friend ________?"
"Perhaps you could talk to ________."
or something.

If they're cool they'll slip a Franklin (100 bucks). If it's a lame comedy maybe Washington (1 buck). Either way it's totally awesome. I used to joke with my friends how we could do the same thing to gain admission to the cinema (back when we were still underaged for most movies). But then the only guy we have on is Yusof Ishak. Which means I'll probably be palming the man a $2.

Yeah I probably watch too much Hollywood for my own good.

***

Some days I wonder if I'm gonna burn out before A levels even begin. Then I'd have wasted twelve years of my life only to pass out at the doorstep.

Then I think again, and realise that I may have been burned out to begin with. When all this is over, I'm gonna get me some therapy.

epistemology 101

2010-08-11T17:20:00.002+08:00

Nothing we know is ever certain.

QED

for great justice

2010-08-07T14:26:00.005+08:00

"You're the most immoral man living - you think of nothing but justice!" - Rearden's mother, Atlas Shrugged

What does justice mean anyway? Plato had an odd conception of justice:

Justice, in a society, is when each level of a hierarchy works within its place and is content with it. A poor man who wishes to rise above his station is only making himself needlessly miserable. And the wise poor have always known this, the same as do the wise rich.

But what does it mean in today's conext? Especially in the context of crime, when we say we are dealing out justice? Does it mean the administering of a deserved punishment? Then is justice merely another word for a punishment befitting a crime? Seen in this light doesn't justice seem like glorified revenge?

But then there has to be some concept of justice out there that we believe in, otherwise it would be pointless to talk about it. Through introspection, perhaps, we feel that something is "right" about sentencing a criminal to jail. We feel a sense of approbation (the words of David Hume, my hero philosopher), or disapprobation when we encounter acts of moral nature. It doesn't mean that our morality is mere feelings, as emotivists would like us to believe. The fact that we can discuss morality, that we have opinions on right and wrong, that may differ on specifics but not in general seem to suggest we are working towards a universal standard. Universally subjective morality, if you will, and if such a thing exists.

But back to justice. It seems once again we are betrayed by the limits of our language, and it has become impossible to articulate what exactly is justice. We may have certain feelings and convictions about justice, but it seems difficult to express what it means.

So I fall back to the initial definition of justice that I sought, the administering of deserved punishment. Which was what I was going to talk about in the first place. Recently there was a slew of punishments handed out to some people which I felt were underdeserving. What I mean is this: I think those people deserved a harsher sentence.

The first case is that of Sunshine Empire's founder who was sentenced to a mere 9 years in jail, and fined 60 thousand dollars. His crime was setting up a ponzi scheme and scamming people of about 180 million dollars. Seriously 9 years in jail and only 60 thousand? I understand that all his property had been confiscated, but that barely covered 21 million dollars. And in this case I think that there is a serious discrepency between white collar crimes and crime in general. Shouldn't white collar crime be charged more severely because white collar criminals are generally smarter and therefore know better not to commit these crimes? White collar crimes are never crimes of passion, or crime passionnel. They are often thought about, planned, premediated, and executed. Therefore shouldn't a ponzi scam of this nature be considered akin to robbery? Or grand larceny? Under Singaporean law, there is a minimum caning of 12 strokes for any and all robbery cases. I think that should hold for white collar criminals intent on preying on people, especially given their full understanding of what they are doing, and the consequences of doing so. At the very least, they should be sentenced to labour until they repay every cent they had ever taken.

I know these are harsh suggestions. But I honestly believe they deserve more.

Then there is the case of Comrade Duch, who was sentenced only 35 years in prison, after heading the greatest genocide since the holocaust. Let me put those 35 years into perspective: he may live to finish his jail term and walk free on this earth again. I think most people would agree that this is not a sentence fitting of his crime. He should have been hanged. To quote the man who gave us the greatest one-liners: "Yes, they deserved to die and I hope they burn in hell!"

But enough of his sentence. What I was more interested in was his defence. He pulled out all the classic moves from the Nazi playbook, and claimed that any man in his position would do the same thing. It was a repeat of the Nuremberg trials, where Nazis claimed that they were merely doing what they were told to do. And of course, we're all going, yeah right, as if that would ever happen to me.

But think about this for a second. It is ridiculous to think of Nazi Germany as being inhabited by nothing but monsters, like some cesspool breeding the most despicable men on the planet, or the gateway to hell spawning the most vile creatures conceivable. The war criminals were actually normal human beings, who could have led normal lives if they were not involved in the war. I think that many of the convicted war criminals were in effect merely carrying out orders. But then we ask ourselves how can anyone carry out such orders without any qualms? Surely they must have realised that what they were doing was wrong, and they could have refused. After all, isn't our morality supposed to be absolute, and our values worth more than that?

Then came along the Stanford prison experiment and the Migram experiment. It revealed rather shocking things about the human psyche, and how one would behave when put in a position of authority or forced to do something under the pressure of authority. Suddenly it seemed like morality wasn't absolute after all; it was situational. In the Milgram experiment especially, only one of the participants out of forty stopped under the 300 volt mark. It then seems that morality is a very rare thing.

Put in the same position as Comrade Duch, it suddenly seems like many of us would do the same thing, maybe not with the same meticulous manner that he carried his "duties" out, but we probably would do so anyway. It is easy to condemn him now and claim the moral highground, simply because we have never been through similar situations. But let's get one thing straight: I am not trying to defend his actions, nor am I providing an explanation for him.

I think that what this world is lacking is integrity and moral courage. We need the ability to stand by an idea, even to death. Few men in the past have this courage, and fewer still have actually died for their beliefs. And I think we need more of that. People are their principles, and we would do well to remember that.

sizable objection

2010-08-05T19:57:00.002+08:00

I was reading the papers just today (something I have neglected to do for the longest time), and I was reading through some of the forum articles, and I realised that the bilingual debate thing was still going on. That is, whether we should be forced to learn Chinese and such.

I am part of a generation that has had to learn both English and Chinese with equal importance placed on both, but without equal emphasis in usage. Let me say this first: I struggled through hell and back to learn this language, and even after all that torture I have difficulty expressing myself in a manner which will not be embarrassing. As such you would do well to note that Chinese is not exactly my cup of tea.

But having said that. I understand the importance of having to learn 2 languages. I know I have expressed in one of my earlier posts that bilingualism in Singapore is a failed experiment. But I think we should keep trying at it. There was a time when I loathed to speak Chinese, and loathed to learn it. I still do, as a matter of fact. But then. I do see the value of being able to speak 2 languages.

So back to what I read in the papers. It was just plain retarded. There was this parent writing in talking about how his child could not learn Chinese, scoring like 20-25% on examinations. Cmon please. Even with my lackluster command of the Chinese language I managed to scrape at least 75% in primary school. Why? Because it was primary school. We're not talking about stupid people here. The child of the guy writing in to the forum scored better than me in the other subjects. He had like what 2A*s and 1A. I actually only scored 1A* in my PSLE. So seriously, can't do it? I think they're just not trying hard enough.

Every year it seems like the children are getting smarter. I mean, just check out the PSLE math papers. They're getting harder every year. Really, parents and their children should stop whining about having to learn 2 languages.

***

I think fat people should have to pay more for, well, everything. But let's start with public transport. If someone takes up more space on the bus, isn't it only logical s/he should have to pay more as well? I mean, I know this makes me sound prejudiced, and I must say I am. But I think that being fat is a worthy cause to be discriminated against in and of itself.

I'm not gonna go as far as to say that being fat should be a criminal offence. But really, being fat is like a crime: they block up public transport so it's hard to navigate around them, in exagerated cases fat people take up more than one seat. If anything fat people should pay more in aesthetic tax because they ruin the scenary (ok this one is a bit harsh, but hey, they're fat. And noone likes looking at fat people). Seriously, while it is difficult or impossible to implement a discriminated price system against fat people, I think that it is worth considering at least.

I know in the future I may look back at this post and realise I have become the very evil I despised. But really, having posted this, I really hope that it would give me more incentive to stay in decent size and shape. Otherwise, well. I guess I could start paying my own fat tax.

when life gives you lemons

2010-07-28T20:06:00.002+08:00

Dad: Why is your bag so heavy?
Me: It carries the weight of my education.

***

Sometimes I realise my teachers really do have something to teach us. Like when one of them said, "Anything worth doing is difficult to do. There is no point in doing it otherwise." And I know everyone will be like, that's so cliche, or that's so stupid, it doesn't say anything.

And yeah, I have to agree, it really doesn't say anything. But it reminded me of JFK's speech on why America decided to go to the moon:

"We choose to go to the moon. We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard, because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one which we intend to win, and the others, too."

If you think about it, this speech can be used to justify almost anything. Anyway the thing is, it just reminded me why we do anything at all. Most of the time we don't have a reason. We just have to. And that's life really. C'est la vie.

***

My friend and I were discussing some pseudo-philosophy in the toilet.

Friend: Why are we discussing philo in here?
Me: Isn't this the best place to be discussing it? I mean where else would you rather be when you're spewing shit from your mouth?

And again, c'est la vie. It's just all bullshit.

***

Some days I look back at how I spent my school days skipping lessons and I feel really guilty. Because unlike my sister, I'm not on any scholarship of any sorts. So my parents are bearing the full brunt of my school fees, which are not cheap. It seems my whole life would be spent being compared to my sister. I have been trailing my whole life, that it feels like my last and best chance to get back is during the A levels. Man I have such an inferiority complex. Or maybe a sibling complex. Or both.

***

There are some people in this world which are just too similar to you, and that is why you hate them. I think I hate my class because of this. Because they remind me too much of myself. It's like looking in the mirror. Maybe I just don't like what I see in it.

***

I think that every Watsons has a small corner dedicated to playing the I Can Give You Gatsby song.

dieting on chocolate

2010-07-26T16:15:00.002+08:00

Eat chocolate biscuits for breakfast. Skip lunch. Hungry? Snack on some chocolate. Eat dinner. Rinse and repeat.

Writing this out makes it look so much more unhealthy. I've lost like 3.5kg from doing this. Don't judge me, I have my vices too. I think I have issues. But then don't we all? I just slip nicely into the teenage cliche.

I sound like some emo kid, and truth is, I do feel a little depressed. Nowhere near slitting my wrists, though. I feel somewhat self-destructive. I'm antisocial. But then everyone already knows that. I push away people to avoid forming real relationships.

Question now is, why does it seem like I'm trying to psychoanalyse myself?

Soon I'll have a blog like every other teenager in town. It'd be like:

ytd i got back my econs. and yea i gt 33! Okay i noe dat sux but den... at least i didnt get - o wait it is a U. sianzz.

Ok believe it or not that was actually very hard to type. My mind actually hung quite a few times writing that. I was aiming for a paragraph but hey at least I managed a few sentences. Anyway I think writing like that should be illegal.

But then I don't write very well myself. I was reading Ayn Rand again. And once again, I was blown away by her writing prowess. All my life I have been told by everyone around me that I can't do what I want to do. And sometimes I even believe them.

It's like in the movie The Pursuit of Happyness, when Will Smith says to his son "Don't ever let someone tell you, you can't do something. Not even me. You got a dream, you got to protect it. People can’t do something themselves, they want to tell you you can’t do it. You want something, go get it. Period. All right?"

And I think everyone forgets this all too often.

I think I'm a wimp. I should have been born a girl; so I can do away with the posturing and posing. I do admit I'm a wimp. But not a coward. And I think that the difference is important.

squandering away infinite potential

2010-07-19T16:14:00.005+08:00

I was looking through our Project Work meeting minutes (basically saved chat logs of msn), and found some stuff. Must say it really kicked in the nostalgia, good times. Back then there was only this shit to worry about. Here's some excerpts of the fun times had:

max! says:

wtf

3486

i have 3486 words

nicholas says:

max! says:

yes

nicholas says:

wtf

max! says:

im talking about acknowledgements, shao wei

nicholas says:

how did you get so many

max! says:

can you just do that

the rest is fine

no freaking idea

maybe i accidentally counted a graph

nicholas says:

because the word counter only goes up to 3202

max! says:

yeah

LOL

HAHA

freak

shao wei says:

juz ignore the word count

pull the wool over the eyes

We really did get the word count to about 3000 in the end, so no blatant cheating or anything like that going down. But the best meeting we had yet would be this one I think:

╭( '-' )╮ says:

yeah how about shut up and work shao wei

is it the one under WR AND SHIZ

nicholas says:

check i can't be sure what subject i used

but in any case it has proper formatting and no hyperlinks

mind that you remove all hyperlinks too if you add any

shao wei says:

hyperlinks are important

good for teachers to check the source.

max! says:

shut the fuck up and work

nicholas says:

removing them is important

max! says:

or im not going to fucking give you any individual contributions you son of a bitch

shao wei says:

lol

so vague!

nicholas says:

i thought that was rather direct

shao wei says:

direct directions?

what u referrin to nic?

And yes WR AND SHIZ was in fact the subject header for most of our pw emails. We weren't the most professional bunch. Honestly, though, I'll say it now, PW is a fucking waste of time.

***

To be honest, despite being an arts student, and loving most forms of literature, I cannot get into poems, both writing and reading. Somehow I find people who are able to appreciate poetry have some higher understanding of this world that I'm unable to access. But I really respect poets (at least most of them) and their work.

Having said that I really don't want to be comparing two poetry collections for my A levels at the end of the year; I would rather have been doing another play or novel. But with this disfavourable luck of the draw, I guess I'm stuck with it. It would still have been cool, I think, if it were someone easier to understand. But instead we have Emily Dickinson.

I don't pretend to fully understand Dickinson, though I must say from what I gather she has the most fucked up shit ever. Take for example 510. "It was not Death, for I stood up". The diction and imagery used was chilling to say the least, and if ever I take this for a bedtime read I think it guaruntees nightmares. Most of the time poetry doesn't evoke much emotional response from me, but this had me slightly disturbed to say the least.

It reminded me of one of the recent nightmares I had, where there were like swells and boils on my arms and I was popping them, and giant cockroach like things were in them. And soon not just cockroaches, but snails were inside as well, and more and more of them were swelling from under my skin. It was weird.

***

If you treat opportunity cost in econs very seriously, then every single minute of your life you are closing off infinite doors of choices, because by choosing a choice we are closing off infinitely many more choices.

In effect we are squandering away infinite potential.

before you ask, yes, my cat has a dour face too

2010-07-13T20:20:00.004+08:00

I think our pets are like their owners. My cat is super lazy (Ok all cats are lazy, but still). And he is one antisocial fuck. Like seriously antisocial. He hides from anyone but my family members and hisses at people who try to approach him. Intentionally or otherwise. He is super unwilling to get picked up or cuddled, though if he is in a good mood he will let us. Yeah I think our pets are a reflection of self.

***

The lights in my bathroom are disco dancing. 2 out of the three lights are on constant flicker. Like seriously seizure inducing flickers. Not quite the best place to get a seizure, I mean you might be having a shat on the toilet when the lights induce a seizure. Not a pretty sight.

***

When I was young I believed a lot of the things I read in fiction. Until I was eleven years old, I was still waiting for my letter to Hogwarts. Maybe I was just more gullible than your average kid. And till today, I am still waiting to be unplugged from the Matrix.

***

Our generation will forever be the Harry Potter generation. Just like how our parents' generation was the Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew generation. But really, Harry made reading cool again. In the age of the television, the computer and the internet, this sounds like a nigh impossible feat.

I think about all the things that the next generation (meaning our children's generation) will need to see from our generation. I think I would show my kids (if I ever have any) Harry Potter. I have like the whole series just rotting away, the pages all falling out from the amount of times I have read them (I think I have read the first four more than 10 times each).

I would show them things like House. I would show them Friends. I would show them the things that changed my life. Like Pokemon. Or maybe things like all the old Disney classics.

But by then they would have their own generation's things to distract them with. Just like how our generation doesn't read the Hardy Boys or watch the Brady Bunch, how can I expect the next generation to watch what we watch and read what we read. I like to think some things are immortal. Like classics, movies like Casablanca. But it saddens me to think that viral clips on Youtube might never be seen by the next generation. Daigo Umehara's amazing comeback in Evo 2004 might never be viewed by anyone outside our generation. And there are just way too many people from our generation who have never seen that video.

Damn, I'm beginning to sound like an old man. Then again maybe I've always been one.

closure 15 years in the making

2010-07-11T01:21:00.003+08:00

I just watched Toy Story 3. It was awesome. It exceeded all my expectations. And they were pretty high, mind. It was like having some kind of closure to a show I watched so many years back. I have always been of the opinion that Toy Story was the best Pixar film ever created. And the finale didn't disappoint.

I think in many ways it captured everything Disney and Pixar had set out to do when they ventured to create the very first Toy Story. It was hilarious and times, and touching at others, with a deep and engaging story line. **Spoiler alert** The ending was everything I could ever hope for. I had a pretty long weepfest starting at the point when they were about to be incinerated until the point when he decided to give Woody away to Bonnie. Not really weeping through the whole thing. But suffice to say the ending had me crying like a little girl.

Anyway, that aside. I think new Disney movies need a good soundtrack like the older movies. Not to say that the new movies don't have good music. They do, but it's all orchestral music, like no lyrics and stuff. They need songs like in the old Disney movies. It was like in the original Toy Story there was the song I Will Go Sailing No More. And at that point it was just so sad because Buzz had finally realised that he was just a toy. And the song really captured the moment, I think.

Sometimes I wonder if I cry too easily at the wrong things. I'm unable to muster emotion for most of my day to day happenings (anyone who has interacted with my stone faced demeanour would attest). But I cry all too easily when watching films, reading books, and even the rare (almost never happens) manga. But then. This feels like proof that I'm not some emotionless robot. But only for that brief moment or two before I slip back into that numb state of unfeeling.

Now I just need closure for events in my real life. What does closure even mean anyway?

my wardrobe may not lead to narnia but...

2010-07-10T11:44:00.003+08:00

...I was just sifting through my room the other day and I found some shite I didn't even know I owned. And also some shite that I bet noone would ever guess I owned.

1) I actually own a copy of the Bible. It's a pocket sized edition, but still. (I never got around to finish reading it though I wanted to)
2) A handmade teddybear... that I made (yeah I'm not quite the most manly guy in town)
3) A sports day trophy I won back in primary school (yeah I actually participated in sports before I got fat and lazy)
4) Some displays for a school science project that I didn't do. I grabbed this from the school archives and never returned it.
5) A Paris Hilton single Stars Are Blind. Don't ask me how I got this. I was surprised to find it myself. Still. The CD comes with some gold chain so you can wear it around your neck like some giant bling.

i'm biased and by this i'll judge you on weakness wrapped up in my own innocence/ and i think that's fine

2010-07-08T23:04:00.005+08:00

Till this day, I am still convinced that the only way to open a wet towel at a Chinese restaurant is to pop it open.

***

Anyway I finally watched Thank You for Smoking. I know, I'm like slow and shite, but it's taking a while to catch up with my movie screenings. Maybe after 'A's I'll devote more time to watching movies. More than I already am, that is. It was a great movie though. I think Jason Reitman is fast becoming one of my favourite directors. What with Juno, Up in the Air, and this. I mean you got to hand it to the guy, he's good.

But the thing about the movie that really got stuck in my head was this one line:

"Whatever information there is, exists, it is out there. People should decide for themselves, they will, it is not my role to decide for them, that would be morally presumptuous."

Morally presumtuous. What does that mean anyway? Aren't we all morally presumptuous? Granted some people are more so than others, but still I think that we try to impose our values on others so often that we don't realise it anymore. Off the top of my head the main reason I can think of is because we don't like things which are different from us. We like things that are the same as us, which is why we identify better with members of our immediate family (most of the time), and members of similar race and also similar country. You may not agree with this statement, but I really do think that it is true for most part, and I don't think it would be hard to find studies backing me on that claim.

But I digress. If the fundamental aim of ethics and morality is to figure out how to lead our lives, like what is right or wrong, then we require some kind of moral prescription. I mean the whole practice of morality has to have a prescriptive value; we have to think that some course of action is better than another and therefore would appeal for others to do the same thing. It cannot be a purely descriptive excercise where we just note how the world is going on, I do my thing and you do your thing and everyone agrees to disagree. I know that that is one valid course of action, and I know many people to subscribe to the whole notion that what is right for me may not be right for you kind of thing. But if you think about it, the fact that we can disagree about morality, the fact that we can argue about morality, about what is right and what is wrong, doesn't that show that there is some objective standard that we are working towards?

Since there appears to be an objective moral standard, then we are presumably working to that standard - and how else but to tell others what we think is right for them to do, presumably based on what we ourselves are doing, and in effect is that not prescribing something for someone else, and therefore being morally presumptuous?

Like for example the movie was basically just advocating freedom of choice, like if you want to smoke then go ahead, it's your choice and no one else should have the right to stop you. And I almost thought the movie had a fair point. I mean, if I see a fat person I don't ask the person to go on a diet because he is fat, but it's the same imperative for me to ask a person to stop smoking, basically because it is bad for his/her health. Certainly I think that I don't have a right to ask him to stop smoking. If only because he might derive more pleasure from smoking than the harm it does to his health, and who am I to prescribe judgment on others? I don't lead a perfect life.

But then issues become more complicated when they don't just affect an individual, but others as well. I mean, then it would be in my interest wouldn't it to tell others what to do especially if their actions has some impact on my life. We expect people to donate to charity, we expect them to do community service, we expect a lot of things from people. Even if we don't realise it, we are prescribing actions for others all the time. Because if we don't, we would be subscribing to a weaker form of morality. The kind where anything goes. Moral relativism. We should have an absolute morality, though it should be thought out, rationalised, and discussed about, in a way that would make John Ralls proud to have concieved the reflective equilibrium. And if we do have this concept of absolute morality, then it is impossible to avoid being morally presumptuous, because it is only logical that we would want every member of society to conform to this percieved ideal.

i read playboy for the articles

2010-07-05T17:07:00.003+08:00

Today felt like a total waste of time. Till I saw this:

Now that's a religion worth believing in. And yes it's an actual movie. I don't wish to make movies like that, but it can't be denied that some things are just so bad they're good.

***

We are born in one of the smallest countries in the world. There are limited resources, a fact that everyone is quick to remind themselves about. We are a chinese nation surrounded by Muslim neighbours, Asia's Israel.

Life for most part is good. But we are quick to be taught that this life does not come easy - that only through generations of suffering were we brought thus far. It is therefore understandable then that to be practical is the only way forward.

As such this is our education system. We learn how to speak, how to count. We learn about how the world goes round, but not why. We learn about how we got here, but not where to go hence. It is not an easy education. It is education by attrition.

Ours is the generation that has been streamed five times before university. Ours is the generation with compulsary community service, as if morality could be imputed this way. Ours is the generation with compulsary co-curricular activities, as if passion could be instilled this way.

Such is the factory we know as education. A produciton line to produce proffesionals. Accountants. Lawyers. Engineers. These are the building blocks for a practical society. As one of the many children already on the conveyor belt, it is difficult to dream out of the factory, particularly if it means getting off the belt.

It is difficult for children of our generation to dream. Because dreams are not practical. Because we are born in such a small country, it is difficult to have big dreams. But then this is the irony of the Singapore Story - we are constantly reminded of the improbable success story that is Singapore, yet constantly discouraged from attempting such a feat.

At our age, our generation seems to have forgotten how it was like to dream. An eight year old does not dream of becoming a lawyer to do mergers and aquisitions; dreams have to be inspired by something greater, like watching Atticus Finch defend what is good and right in the name of justice and equality.

I may come to regret failing to live the dream. But I hope I never have to regret never trying the dream.

***

This post was not meant to be a serious one. As seen by the less than serious title. It was actually inspired by a speech that Richard Dawkins gave, in which he described how a US army major repeatedly ran into a wall in an experiment of quantum physics, because it was theoretically possible to walk through the wall. The story he was recounting was apparently found in Playboy (though he was probably joking).

Yet somehow it turned out somewhat serious. I have no idea why. I just have these mood swings. ~~And it's not even that time of the month.~~ People say I suffer from depression. It's like saying I'm emo or something. Maybe they're right.

And for the record, I don't read Playboy. ~~I don't beleive in paying for porn.~~

i've said these before, but i like to say things again

2010-06-27T18:25:00.003+08:00

Once again, I am disappointed by the Straits Times and how it twisted its language to lend its stories a slanted stance. Now adding 'spin' to stories is by no means exclusive to the Straits Times; lots of other media use this in order to portray messages they want. But just because so many other people do it, does not mean that it is remotely okay to do such a thing. Before I go any further, I'll bring the offensive matter to light:

First, observe the screaming headlines: Gay sex romp turned fatal

http://www.straitstimes.com/BreakingNews/Singapore/Story/STIStory_543926.html

Now I didn't go out of my way to find this article, but it caught my eye because it was on the list of most popular stories on the ST website. This actually speaks volumes about our reading quirks, but I digress.

So anyway about the title. Immediately when I saw this I expected some kind of complication arising from the act of gay sex. Or at least some sort of death by spearing. Or something. But no, I get some lame story about how a man dies from drug abuse. Now people who can die from drug abuse are by no means limited to homosexuals. Hetrosexuals can just as easily die from whatever drug they're using to spice up their sex lives.

But the thing is. This being Singapore. And that being the Straits Times. They will add a certain slant to their stories. If anything just to appeal to the apparently "conservative asians" that we Singaporeans all are. I hate to say it, but the fact of the matter is that the Straits Times just fits into the role many Singaporeans percieve them to have (and even if its not true its a hard case to argue against) - that of the PAP mouthpiece (ok that was a long and convoluted sentence I hope it made sense).

Which is my point, really. The Straits Times needs to adopt a less biased style of reporting lest they slip into the wastelands of yellow journalism. I will however concede that its still a far cry from becoming such, but it's a slippery slope to hell.

***

I think it was Voltaire who said "Anything too stupid to be said is sung". And that's true for most part. Songs like You and I by Ingrid Michaelson. Sounds stupid to say it.

Oh let’s get rich and buy our parents homes in the South of France/ let's get rich and give everybody nice sweaters/ and teach them how to dance/ let's get rich and build our house on a mountain/ making everybody look like ants/ from way up there you and I, you and I

Been listening to her a lot lately. And all the lyrics are stuck in my head. And yet, when I listen to it, I think it makes more sense than half the things people say nowadays.

Having said that, there are some things that are just too stupid, said or sung. Certain names immediately come to mind. Like Rihanna. Singing about a certain apparutus used on days with unfavourable weather. Or Justin Bieber. Singing about when he was thirteen. Having his first love. Seriously, the quality of music is going downhill. Back in the day Rick James told it like it was. That girl's a superfreak.

And speaking of stupid lyrics... Yes, I'm looking at you JJ Lin. For coming up with that lame cheer/song You are the One, Singapore. Why is it whenever Singapore has to come up with something 'hip' and 'cool' she ends up failing in what can only be described in the most epic fashion? Still remember about 3 years ago, the MDA's rap (if you have never seen it, I strongly advice you never to see it. Ever. Though if you must it's easily available on youtube.)? Yes, I know, I try to forget every day, but it's too painfully seared into the back of my eyes (what is seen cannot be unseen). In fact a friend of mine said upon seeing this for the first time, "If anyone asks, I'm from Japan."

I think he adequately summed up our feelings about this and about anything that Singapore has tried to become 'cooler'. Now before anyone accuses me of hating on Singapore, or being unpatriotic and such, I'll say it right now. I'm don't hate on Singapore. I'm just embarrassed by her. It's a difficult emotion to swallow, being embarrassed by one's own country. But really, the things that come out these days, like the MDA rap, the YOG cheer, Ris Low... it's hard to remember the last time I saw a talent in Singapore that, quite frankly, didn't suck. I don't mean to be overly critical of Singapore and the creative media and such, but really, is it too much to ask for something decent? Not even fantastic, or awesome, just not... stupid (for lack of a better word).

But here I would like to say that not all the things I have to say about Singapore is bad. And now a shoutout to Royston Tan for his piece on censorship in Singapore. The short clip was actually better than whatever shit Jack Neo had been feeding us for years. If you don't know what I'm talking about it's easily available on youtube.

Anyway. The good aside. Time for more bad. Speaking of Jack Neo. Does everyone remember a time when he used to dress up as Liang Po Po, or was that like before our time? That was supposedly funny. He even had a movie made about it. And that was cool and all. But now we got Zhou Chong Qing in the cross dressing act as well, as Auntie Lucy, about a decade after Liang Po Po first hit our screens. Nothing wrong with cross dressing per se, what is wrong is that Singaporeans love it. Er. I hate to say this, folks, but we look like the most sexually repressed nation in the world. After Afghanistan, of course (but really close call). But seriously, though, from the 'most read' on the news to how we choose our entertainment? I've said it before, and I'll say it again, this country needs to get laid. Reading up on fatal gay sex and deriving pleasure from seeing men cross dress, there is something seriously wrong with this city. This is a form of pornography in itself, and I'm surprised that the MDA with it's censor-happy board did not clamp down on this shit.

At the end of the day, I think that we are definately moving towards something more acceptable in terms of the quality of media we are producing. But it's still a far cry from anything really respectable. Acceptable yes, but not respectable. If our best satirist in the country is Mister Brown, and the best parody in town is The Noose... Suffice to say it's still a long way to go.

***

Schools should not hold exams immediately after school holidays. Defeats the purpose of having one (the ambiguity of this statement pleases me as it gives a double meaning I didn't intend). Needless to say I try not to let my exams ruin my holidays. Works out a bit too well. Now if only my holidays didn't ruin my exams...

Anyway 12 years of education has brought me to this do or die moment in life. It feels as though 18 years of my life has culminated in this single moment. A levels. I've been guarunteed by all the adults that for as long as I live I never have to do anything quite so difficult ever again.

But really. After 18 years of my life, after 12 years of education, all I have to show is this single piece of paper. It's as if my entire life could be summed up into the 6 letters that I will see next year. Damn.

And for once I am actually glad that I have to serve in the army. I really need the 2 years to take stock of my life. Like what course to take in uni (if I even qualify for uni, though I try hard not to think about such things).

Choices are so daunting. It reminds me of the video I saw on Ted about how humans make predictably irrational chocies all the time. It was by this behavioural economist called Dan Ariely. I do reccomend that people watch it, because it was pretty entertaining, and it revealed quite a bit about the human decision mechanism. Having said that, it just elevates my worry that I would be making the wrong decisions.

But hey. We're all dying anyway, some of us got to act like we're living. And if that was too stupid to be said, then:

Live like you're dying, and never stop trying/ It's all you can do, use what's been given to you.

- Live Like You're Dying, Lenka

"my tongue will tell the anger of my heart,/ or else my heart concealing it will break"

2010-06-19T00:43:00.004+08:00

2010 is turning out to be a lot like the year 2000.

...

Nothing's happening.

I mean 2000 was such a let down wasn't it? No armegaddon. We barely felt the effects of Y2k. And I suppose the most disappointing of all, no Second Coming. You would think this would shake the faith but somehow it just reinforces it.

***

With the world cup and all going on I feel obligated to make a post. But then I don't watch sports. So I can't really comment on anything going on. Though one thing I must say about this world cup thing is how everyone was bitching about the prices they had to pay to get to watch. Some dude even wrote in to the Straits Times saying that the government should subsidise this and make it free to air, because apparently England does this. But you know another thing England has that Singapore doesn't?

A team actually playing in the world cup.

***

This was a few weeks ago that I saw this, but a woman was suing Google Maps becuase she used it to plan her jogging route and got into some car accident while en route. Now I'm sure everyone is going like huh? at this right here, because the link does not seem immediately apparent. Well if the link does not seem immediately apparent to you, fret not, because there is no link.

The woman was merely suffering from what majority of human kind suffers from: Stupidity. However, this is America, anything can happen there. I mean, these are the same courts that entertained a woman's claim that she did not know coffee was hot. But still. I thought they might have wisened up a little since last time.

***

Why does every guy in school seem to know how to play the guitar? I get that it's the manliest instrument in the world. And even I would admit that being able to play Sweet Child o' Mine on the guitar would be so damn awesome. But really, the guys in school are using the guitars to strum chords while they serenade their classes. Which isn't so cool as irritating ~~sometimes~~ all the time.

Truth be told I think many guys in school learn to play the guitar to parade their prowess in front of the ladies. It's like in high school noone knew how to play, and in JC suddenly everyone knows. It's fucking ridiculous. And of course now everyone would go, oh yeah it's just cos you can't play the guitar that's why you're hating on it. And I'm not even gonna try to deny that. I play the lamest instruments, the piano and the trombone.

But I dare say I do play a wicked guitar on Guitar Hero (or at least a decent guitar).

***

Somedays I feel like rebelling against the system. When I do I think of films like Dog Day Afternoon. And I think about what happens if I started the chant "Attica! Attica!". I don't think anyone would get what I'm trying to say. I think Singapore lacks this rebel kind of culture. I really can't think of any specific incident which will be instantly recognisable to Singaporeans as a symbol of rising up to an oppressive authority.

Then again, even if there were, I don't think Singaporeans will know of it anyway. We're too self absorbed to have any sort of culture, really.

conjoined twins will now be creepy forever

2010-06-12T00:20:00.002+08:00

But I couldn't make out the sound/ It doesn't matter cos my eyes are lying/ And they don't have emotion/ Don't wanna be social/ Can't take it when they hate me/ But I know there's nothing I can do

- Do, The White Stripes

There is something wrong in this world when all eight guys at a table know what the Human Centipede is. Or maybe it's just something wrong with my friends and I. Anyway, if you don't already know what the Human Centipede is, here's a warning: DO NOT TRY TO FIND OUT. But being human, I suppose the warning would prove futile. Shows like these make me lose faith in humanity.

I must admit though, much of the discussion arising from the Human Centipede was hilarious, though of course we must have been pretty fucked up people to be talking and laughing about it. Have I always been this fucked up? And besides the friend who introduced this to me heard this from his GP tutor. True story. Naturally curiousity got the better of him and he just had to find out what it was. And upon discovering the horrific nature of the film, he did the next logical thing. He told everyone he knew about it.

I'm gonna have nightmares for a while. And I didn't even watch the whole thing. I chickened out right before the sick shit started. Yeah some things are just too fucked up, even for me.

kids these days

2010-06-06T22:01:00.002+08:00

The other day I rewatched some of the older movies and shite that I had stored on my com. I was watching Beauty and the Beast again, and it made me think about what kids these days were watching. Back then we had the Disney classics. I mean, those were the days, weren't day? Man I sound like some old man now, but truth be told Disney did have a good message to tell in each of those movies. But now what are kids watching? Hannah Montana? Because I think there's more value to watching grass grow than watching Hannah Montana.

I grew up in a house where swearing was prohibited. My parents were not those to spare the rod, and we did get caned fairly often. As a result I grew up in a fairly protected environment. It is hard to imagine the me of then, I think, for many who know me now. I didn't swear. At all. I didn't learn 'fuck' until I was in primary six, and even then did not use it. I think I only started swearing in secondary 3. And more excessively in secondary 4, and today you have, well, me.

So anyway back to the kids these days. They certainly learn swear words a lot earlier than when I did. If what I hear from my friends are true, then the average primary school kid has a vulgar vocabulary on par with mine, even if they don't know what the words mean. Which is disturbing on many counts. I mean, I'm not one to talk, I'm like the biggest swear word advocator there is around. They're just words, after all. But there is something intrinsically disturbing about seeing a little kid of maybe 10 years old shouting the word 'fuck'. You can't explain why, but it feels so wrong. I don't know. I mean, at the very least I think they should try to understand what those words mean before they use them.

But really. I think that the quality of children these days are getting worse. Not so much in terms of intelligence, per se, but in terms of character. Not moral character, though there is something there to talk about. But the way you portray yourself. That sort of character, the one you present to other people. I look at children nowadays, and for the most part, I end up thinking, 'little fucker'.

to be truly secular is the only way forward

2010-06-05T19:39:00.004+08:00

I think we all have to start agreeing that religion is doing a lot more harm than good. Now before the zealots start coming in shouting about their faith, let me say here that I'm not saying certain religions are bad, or that it should be discouraged. What I'm trying to say is that all religion is bad, and should be outright banned.

I know lots of people are of the opinion that religion has done some good for all of us. Like offering us spiritual comfort. And who can forget Mother Teresa? But can't we have people do good without the religion bit? Consider the flip side of the coin, all the bad things religion has brought about. The Crusades. September 11. Church scams. Gay Catholic Priests. And the list goes on, really.

I mean, I think you've hit rock bottom when you start wishing that the worst thing people identify you with is the Nazis. Yes, I'm talking about the Pope, Benedict XVI. I know this is pretty old news, but I mean, I thought religion was bad, but I really didn't expect it to go fucking-little-kids-bad you know what I mean? Discovering the entire catholic church was a huge syndicate for child molesters really shakes the faith. And yet some people still defend the Pope. Not that I'm very surprised or anything.

And these recent spate of church scams and mishandling of funds in Singapore. I mean, I don't go to church, but a friend of mine who used to go said his only lasting memory of church was when they passed around the donation box during service. Twice. Just in case your bribe to heaven wasn't enough the first time. I mean, I know of some christian families who believe there is a mandate that they should offer up 10% of their income to the church. That's just screwed up. I mean, here we have an omnipotent being, who loves us and cherishes us, who just can't get enough of our dough.

I mean, and the things he is supposed to be doing. Created the world in 6 days. Rested on the seventh. An omnipotent all-powerful being. Resting. Seriously? And if we go by the teleological argument, considering how complex this world is, He would have to be infinitely more complex a being to be able to create the world. And his duties didn't just end there. He had to listen to prayers, bless marriages, care about our sex lifes... the list goes on.

Now I know I've been overly caustic to the Christians here, but really that's just the tip of the iceberg. Other religions really fare no better in the amount of harm they have dealt out to the world. I won't get started on them, but just one word to consider, terrorists. Ok yeah that's about it.

I won't go so far as to classify religion as a mental illness, as Bill Maher might have done. Nor do I promote atheism like Richard Dawkins. I think that I'm still very much an agnostic, and while I recently am more inclined in believing in a governing force in the universe, I don't buy into the whole religion thing. Why do we have to pretend that we know everything, like how the world will end, and how we were created and how God is like (apparently in our image). It is so arrogant, and so presumptious. Can we for once just say that we don't know and leave it at that? I think it's all these stories, of a man living in a giant fish, stuffing every single species of animal into a big boat, parting the red sea, wine into water, walking on water, ressurection, the second coming... The list goes on.

I think because religion is ultimately a test of faith, the more ridiculous the religion, the bigger the test, and the better it is when everyone believes it. And screw Pascal's wager. I'll go to hell.

Ok what I'm saying, if this entire post had a point at all, is that religion is bad. And I certainly hope that I'm not gonna be picked up for sedition or anything like that.

"love band, that is all i ask of you"

2010-05-30T16:10:00.003+08:00

In many ways I feel obligated to make this post. I mean, it's been six years of my life, with almost at least some part of every day spent playing an instrument in a concert band. It feels like I left a part of me behind when I left the band room for the last time.

I don't know. I haven't always been a band person. In secondary one and two I slept through most of the concerts I attended. And then in JC I wasn't sure I wanted to join band again. But I did anyway.

The experiences afforded to me by the band are unforgettable ones, I think. From my first chance to perform on a stage (that was actually a rather disastrous concert), to marching down the field at the national stadium with literally thousands of spectators screaming and cheering.

There are times when I wonder if I could have been anything else. Like maybe I could have played sports (hey even if I'm a fat bastard now I did swim for my primary school swim team). I might have joined debate. Or maybe drama. Then I remember that I don't even like sports. That I can't act in front of others (that's pretty shit, I know).

And I also remember all the little slogans the band had come up with over all these years for each of their recruitment drives. Things like "One band, one sound" (direct rip from Drumline). Or maybe "the notes are the music, we are the soul". But there will always be one which stands out more clearly than the others. "Love band, that's all I ask of you". And finally, after all this time, I can finally say, I do.

There are so many things I want to say which are too personal to write here. So I'll just stop here. "Let us remember only the good things." To the HC symphonic band batch of '10.

true story

2010-05-27T20:08:00.004+08:00

The other day, I went for my national seervice checkup. And not complaining or anything, but the damned tests took so long, I practically whiled away my whole morning there. It was only one particular station that took very long, actually. The station where you had to sit in the huge waiting room waiting to see the doctor. Or what everyone called the check dick station (named as such for obvious reasons). So we were packed into this huge waiting room, and given lockers to keep our shit in. There was an ECG test to take, so everyone had to take off their shirts. So there we were, in this room, easily 30 odd topless guys, lounging on our chairs. Now this was easily one of the weirdest situations ever. But to top it off, there was a TV in the room. Now the TV was still cool, what they were showing on TV was not. The Ellen Degeneres show was on. Now for those who don't know, I consider this show to be one of the most retarded things conceived by human imagination. She was playing a game of musical chairs with some audience members, except they were blind folded, and the chairs they had to sit on had half-naked-overly-buff-guys sitting on them already. Anyway, so what we got now, was a room full of half naked guys watching half naked guys on TV. I mean, I hate to say it, but really: How can you not say the army is gay?

And anyway, forget the army and the checkup and the naked dudes watching naked dudes for a second. And think about the Ellen Degeneres show and what they were showing for a second. It was a show about women playing musical chairs with half naked buff guys as chairs. Ok if that did not make you go wtf I don't know what will. It's things like these that make me lose faith in the human race.

***

Yesterday I was feeling pretty down. It was after the school's Arts Fest and shite. I mean I should be feeling pretty high after performing; it's usually how one feels after performing. But recently with all the shit going down and all... Don't know just didn't feel up to it. So anyway I was on the bus home, trying to listen to something to soothe the nerves and shite. I mean I wasn't feeling suicidal or anything, just a little out of it I think. So music. It's like Aristotle, and his idea of catharsis, the idea of releasing emotions, or cleansing or purging emotions.

So I was sitting on the bus and these heavy WAVES and WAVES of depression just kept coming and won't go away and the music wasn't helping and I was feeling just so damn sad and I was so close to crying. Ok stop. Yeah that was pretty shitty. I was just flipping through songs on my playlist and the songs just weren't helping, when I finally came across some of my band/orchestra/music without lyrics songs. And it felt so much better. Listening to all that. And I realised what I actually knew all along - that I was indeed a band person.

***

I haven't felt so fucking bad in a long time. It brings back memories of when I was young. When I was young I thought I would live forever. I mean really, FOREVER. which was weird. Cos when I was around two years old, my great grandfather died. Maybe I was too young to appreciate the full meaning of his death. But anyway, I only found out that I would really die, like forever with no coming back kind of death, when I was about 7 I think. And I cried almost every night out of fear. And there would be this void inside me, a clenching feeling around the heart, suffocating anxiety, at the mere thought of dying. It wasn't so much the dying, but that there wasn't anything after death worth thinking about, that I would have lived my 80 odd years on this earth and after that die with no lasting consciousness of having lived it at all. I mean that was the fucking scary thing. I get that's why people choose to believe in the afterlife. And at that time, when I was seven, I really felt like Believing.

***

I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up. I'm so afraid of becoming an office wage slave, working from 9-5 everyday tied to a desk. I don't know any more. I mean, most of us who graduate from uni would probably end up an office wage slave. Just depends which part of the ladder we sit on. Could you envision when you were say 8 years old that in 20 years time you would be sitting in an office cubicle punching numbers and basically slaving away at a desk? When I was young I actually had ambitions. Sure, they were changing all the time. I was a fickle one. For a period of time, I had actually wanted to be a garbage man. Now anyone who has ever lived in a private housing estate will know what I'm talking about next. But try to imagine. There is this huge truck. Doesn't matter that it smells quite literally like shite. You get to ride the whole day on the back of that truck, holding on to the hand hold and basically clinging on for dear life as the truck zooms down the road. And the mechanism that empties the bins of the trash looked so damn fun to operate. I mean, you hooked the bin onto the "teeth" of the truck and pulled a lever, and the truck ate the garbage. How cool was that?

Slowly as I got older I lost interest in being a garbage man. I was about four when I wanted to be one, but when I was six I just wanted to be very very rich. I didn't give a shit what I did, I just wanted to be rich. Bill Gates at that time was the richest man alive. And I remember this as though it were yesterday: we were in the car, my whole family and I, and we were just driving along. My father was talking about Bill Gates and how rich he was. So then he said, "Bill Gate's house is so big you have to drive to get from one end to the other." Then I said, "When I grow up my house will be so big you have to fly to get from one end to the other." Yeah. I had pretty big dreams back then. How ambitious. How naive. How ignorant. Sometimes, though, I really do miss that.

It's like when we get older we lose sight of all these dreams.

***

Mentioning Aristotle earlier on made me think of someone else. Plato and his idea of justice. Justice, in a society, is when each level of a hierarchy works within its place and is content with it. A poor man who wishes to rise above his station is only making himself needlessly miserable. And the wise poor have always known this, the same as do the wise rich. Which makes me sad, really. To think that no man can rise above his station in life. Of course this is contrary to everything that we know to be true, because of the meritocratic system in Singapore.

But what I was thinking today when I thought about his concept of Justice was not about social status or anything quite so important. I was thinking about in school and this rating system that we have. Like on a scale of 10 rate for looks. I mean, it's the kind of childish superficial thing you would expect from 18 year old teenagers, I think. So anyway, just makes me think that if it is impossible to rise above one's own station, that would make for a rather sad situation wouldn't it? I don't know.

***

I finally watched True Romance. I'm not sure how Quentin himself might have directed it, but the screenplay was just... everything I expected of Quentin I suppose. The dialogue was awesome as usual, and I must say I thought it was better than Inglourious Basterds. His old stuff was really the best.

***

In books and movies you always see the asshole gets the girl. And if those art forms are meant to be a reflection of society, then I must say they paint a very accurate picture. Not that I think I would stand a higher chance scoring with the girls if I'm some fucking asshole (I'm already an asshole, just not on the same level as those guys. I play little league and they're like at major league taking the title every year. Not the same ballpark, maybe not even the same ballgame). So anyway. I'm probably not good looking enough, not smart enough, not witty enough, not... I don't know.

I mean, I think girls only go for 4 kinds of guys. Good looking. Rich. Funny. The Nice Guy. I'm no expert on this, but the options seem fairly obvious even to me. Just that I'm not really any of those. Anyway that the "asshole" always gets the girl in fiction, I think there is some fact in there.

bus transfers

2010-05-23T19:01:00.003+08:00

It feels so awesome when you get off the bus, and you try run for the bus which was in front of yours. This is by no means an easy feat, as anyone who has tried this before will attest. The only thing stopping the bus in front from moving off are the people who are boarding and alighting the bus. Which is highly unreliable. When you run for the bus in front of the one you just alighted and catch it, it's like the crowning moment of awesome.

But what's even more awesome is when you make a run for it and don't make it, and the bus driver sees you and stops anyway.

one step closer

2010-05-21T23:53:00.001+08:00

I realised something today (21/5/2010). I belive in God. Just not religion.

"when i get sad, i stop being sad, and be awesome instead."

2010-05-17T21:52:00.004+08:00

I'll try to be happier from now on.

***

This post is going to be about some random thoughts that aren't quite long enough individually to warrant their own post. Been thinking about lots of stuff lately, mainly cos I've been watching an obscene amount of ted talks instead of doing real school work. Have also been tinkering around the piano for the first time in like 4 years. It's been a while. Anyway.

***

I think most people can summarise their entire existance as one huge journey in the search for meaning. Meaning for what? The search for meaning in their lives. Why they even exist. I mean, it's the eternal question, no? Much of philosophy is concerned with this one way or another, like in ethics, where the fundamental problem is how we should live life.

And that's it really. I think people should be more concerned with how we should live our lives, before even moving on to why we live our lives, because we haven't quite yet finished the how. I was listening to Tony Robbinson on Ted, it was somewhat entertaining, didn't really enjoy it much, but he was talking about motivations for the things we do. I personally don't think that there is anything wrong with trying to find out why we do what we do, but still there is still the unanswered question of what we should do. I'm sorry if I'm not making much sense here, but the thing is, we haven't even figured out what is right and what is wrong in this world yet, and the things we ought to do, and we're trying to figure out why we do them. Seems like someone somewhere somehow missed a step.

Which then leads to another problem in this world, the naturalistic fallacy. Put more simply, the is-ought fallacy. If I have learned one thing from David Hume, it is the is-ought fallacy. Just because something is this way, doesn't mean it should be this way. Like just because the rich get richer and the poor get poorer doesn't mean it should be this way. Or just because life is hard doesn't mean it should be this way. The is-ought fallacy is seen in many of the things we do and many of the beliefs we hold. And it applies most aptly in the case of men.

I was listening to Viktor Frankl the other day about man's search for meaning. And one of the things he said really inspired me. He said that the idealist is the real, or true, realist. What he meant was that if we look at man as he is we will make him worse. But if we look at man as he should be, then we make him capable of becoming what he can be. And really I think there's some truth in that. I mean, it's like Sartre said, "Men are condemed to be free." We are free to choose what is right and good, even when circumstance strips us of everything else, we still retain that last freedom to do the best with what we have. I used to think that man was capable of good in the past. Somewhere along the way I lost faith in that belief. Frankl really reminded me what I thought I lost. The belief in the better side of people.

I think I have become too jaded, too cynical, way before my time. I mean, I always have this negative view of the world and of other people. Though deep down inside I'm actually quite the idealist. I didn't know this about myself till I was talking to some dudes about true love and I realised I had quite the romanticised view of the world. Rose tinted glasses even.

I mean, I always fancied myself as a realist. But really, I seem to be this idealist deep down inside. I believe that man is capable of doing good. And when people talk about how you get bored, or for lack of a better word, sian, of the person you're dating/married, I always feel this shouldn't be the case. And also when I hear of other people dating someone but actually liking someone else more, I really feel it shouldn't be the case. I don't know, but maybe I'm some romantic or something, or some idealist. I always tell myself I'm not, but then I'm always in a constant state of denial.

***

Ok it's getting pretty late for me to launch into another segment about atheism. I just listened to Richard Dawkins on why we should all be atheists (he wasn't just promoting atheism, he was promoting millitant atheism). But now I feel so lazy to blog about it. But really, there are those people who claim that religion and morals are inseparable, and if we don't have a God then we can hardly know what is right and wrong. Personally I stand with the humanists on this issue, that even without a God people can know what is right and wrong, and in fact, will know what is right and wrong better than if we had a God. Also, ever heard of Euthyphro? The dude got owned by Socrates three thousand years ago while trying to draw a relationship between God and morals. "Is the pious loved by the gods because it is pious, or is it pious because it is loved by the gods?"

But really, in the end I think that the world will be much better off if Christians will stop being Christians, and try to be Christ-like instead. That has some value at least.

postulated problems posed: paired pillow paradox

2010-05-10T21:22:00.003+08:00

Why is it that when you finaly get what you want, you don't seem to want it anymore? I think Oscar Wilde (yeah cliche I know) had it right when he said, “There are only two tragedies in life: one is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it". Sometimes I feel that the wanting is more fulfilling than the getting. Like when I was in primary school, my parents would use toys to get me to study. It was the old carrot and stick, punishments for bad results, and rewards for good results. I would spend hours looking at the toy that I stood to gain, just staring at the unopened package, contemplating the treasures within. When the time came to finally open the box, there was always this feeling of disappointment, as if I expected something more. I think that is it, really, the difference between expectation and reality - that I had spent so long thinking about the moment that when the moment actually came, it just came short of expectations. I think this is why humans are never content with what they have; we must always want more, because we need to want more than we need to have.

Why is it that when we finally get to where we want to be, we don't want to be there anymore?

***

There are some experiences in life that never get old though.

1. Picking up something which you thought was heavier than it actually is, and for the split second you feel like Hercules.

2. Trying to take off your glasses when they are already off. Gives the strangest sensation.

3. Trying to take an extra step at the top of a flight of stairs or at the bottom of the stairs.

Man these are all I could think of off the top of my head. Why is it that there seems to be so much to say, but when you actually say it, there seems to be so little?

***

Sleeping with 2 pillows is awesome. It gives the most comfortable sensation while sleeping. But you wake up with the most epic neck ache ever. Not so awesome after that.

But I do it from time to time anyway.

what is the meaning of purpose and the purpose of meaning?

2010-05-05T22:12:00.003+08:00

Teenage angst. At what point does it stop being teenage angst and become midlife crisis? And at what point does that stop being midlife crisis and become existential angst? It seems like we give different names to essentially the same problem. Life. Ok I sound like some emo kid now.

I've tried my entire life to avoid cliches, only to realise that I have become one myself. I've become some kind of angsty depressed teenager (actually, I think everyone suffers from some kind of depression, if what pharmaceuticals claim is true). I'm this close from completing the cliche and guzzling ice cream while listening to sad British pop music.

Anyway as a teenager I think the world feels like it revolves around me. I mean, everything seems so damn important, and everything seems like life and death, that it's hard to imagine that a lot of the things we do now will have little or no impact on life as a whole. Just a few weeks ago I had to fill in this career guidance package. It required me to fill in future career options and university course options. And so I spent 1 hour planning out the rest of my life. I panic when I think about the rest of my life. I imagine myself flipping burgers at Burger King or something. And I don't even like Burger King.

***

But really, is there anything that inspires teenage angst as much as teenage romance? Is there anything so pointless and worrying as teenage love? It's like in Love Actually when the father of the little boy was trying to find out and he finds out the problem is *love*. And he says

"Well, because I thought it would be something worse."

"Worse than the total agony of being in love?"

"Oh. No, you're right. Yeah, total agony."

Total agony. Seems like an understatement. And another thing. Seems like all I have to say recently are movie quotes. Or maybe I've always been this way. Speaking of quotes and movies, I love watching romantic comedies, more than apparently healthy for a boy, some would say (I always suspect that Carl Jung had his Anima Animus theory right, and my Anima is like particularly dominant). And I've got like thousands of cheesy lines stuck in my head. And I even come up with a few myself, not that they actually come into practice most of the time. Though there was this one particular line that I did use, perhaps the cheesiest line I had ever uttered in my life (I don't mind revealing it here because the this happened some time ago):

Girl: Come on all girls like it when you call them pretty. (had been trying to get me to call her pretty for a while now)

Me: But you're not pretty. (beat) You're beautiful.

True story. That was perhaps the most cheesy line I had ever said to a girl. She loved it. But really, I wonder which is worse, if she had hated it, or the fact that she actually liked such a cheesy line. Anyway I digress.

I feel like giving up completely. Like that Emily Dickinson poem. "First Chill - then Stupor - then the letting go -" And I think I will. But it's not so easy, is it? I mean, if it were so easy, it would be rather insincere wouldn't it? To be able to forget so easily, doesn't it seem like it is such an insincere love in the first place? I don't know any more. Ok better stop here before it becomes any more personal. I'm going so close to slipping and revealing everything that I should really stop blogging. One day I'll pour my soul out. That would be the day I delete this blog I think.

"let down your hair, so that i may climb the golden stair"

2010-05-03T17:14:00.004+08:00

Over the weekend, I have slept a total of 8 hours, eaten 3 meals of MacDonalds, 1 meal of Canadian Pizza, and 1 meal of KitKats (yeah just KitKats alone). I'm not exactly the healthiest person on the block, but even this was a little over the top. All a sacrifice for an art. You know, making a film wasn't as easy as it first looked. Especially not in 48 hours. Anyway.

***

This is going to be one of those posts which has me ranting on about nothing at all. I think that girls with long hair look better than girls without. I mean, I don't think it's the defining characteristic of beautiful, but I certainly think that it adds to beauty (whatever that means). There are girls in school with shorter hair than me. Personally, I think that it's criminal. Yeah, call me sexist, call me an MCP or whatever you want, but really, girls with shorter hair than guys? What I'm really saying is, short hair can work too, I just prefer long hair to short hair.

And while we're on the subject. I bet I'm gonna get grilled in real life for this, but since I've decided to be more honest with myself, I'm just gonna go ahead and spill this. I'm really all about the face. When it comes to girls, if they have a pretty face, I think that goes a long way. I know everyone is gonna say I'm superficial and shite, and perhaps I am. I personally hold a trifecta of face, body, and personality. When I say personality I don't just mean if a person has a good character or not, because honestly I'm not the best role model around. What I really mean I suppose if the person is intelligent, not in the way of academics, just smart. Like sometimes when you speak to someone you can tell immediately if they have any brains at all. They need some kind of personality. They can't be empty shells of existance. I mean what's the point in that?

Anyway about the trifecta. I always go for the face first. Does that make me wrong? I mean I think that a hot body is a plus, but not really needed. Just as long as not fat. That's another thing. Fat people. I've posted about fat people before. I really think they're a bane of society. I know I'm sounding like a fucking asshole now, and perhaps I am, but seriously, must I be politically correct all the time? I mean, sometimes I just wanna shout out what I think. I bet everyone will be hating on me for this post, but honestly I don't really give a damn any more.

But really. I'll concede this much. If a girl has a nice body and a pretty face but no personality, there's really no point. I mean, this goes for anyone, really. But even having said that. I think that looks do matter. I'm not gonna be like those dudes who go like, "It's the inside that counts." Come on. How fake is that? I mean, seriously.

And then there are all these feminists and shite that come in saying that it's the inside that counts. Why can't it be both? Why can't we desire for both the inside and the outside? Does that make me wrong? How is it that our expectations for aesthetic beauty dropped so low? Must we keep pretending that we don't like beautiful people because there are so few of them? I mean, there is an average for looks, and I know that someone has to fall below the average, but really, do we as a people have to keep telling ourselves that beauty is overrated just to prove that we aren't "superficial"? What does that mean anyway? Superficial. Does it mean caring about how people look? In that case I am superfical.

But really. Girls with long hair. Enough said.

"it has been my experience that folks who have no vices have very few virtues"

2010-04-24T14:04:00.003+08:00

About a month back, some ex-RJC girl had this article in the Straits Times (I think it was called "Scoring high in grades but not in values"). She talked about how people from elite schools had supposedly less morals than those from the neighbourhood schools. The whole issue this times was sparked by the good old "at what point does meritocracy become elitism" debate, which was in turn sparked by SJI's refusal to take in more boys from SJI jr and other feeder schools.

Anyway the issue raised here was then morphed into a "people from neighbourhood schools have more values than those from elite schools" thing by the said ex-RJC girl. Why do people talk about elitism as if it is a bad thing? It promotes the idea that those who work hard, or at least those born with better abilities would come out on top (now don't hate on this - men aren't equal). What does lowering the cut off mark for a school just so it can accomodate affiliated student achieve? This reeks of something worse than elitism. I can't quite put it into words. I know this is a stretch, but it's like accepting people for their race, or accepting people because of their religion or something. Isn't this infinitely more sinister than accepting people based on merit? I don't know, but really this sounds like some KKK thing going on, or maybe I slipped too far down the slope on this one. But really, this begets something like the Indian caste system, where people couldn't move up or down the system. I mean, then it all depends on the primary school ballot. Or your connections into the school. I know I have a vested interest for making things stay as they are. But really. I don't think that elitism is a bad thing at all.

And really I'm fully unapologetic for for my belief in elitism. People are always hating on those perceived to be "elites". It just seems so bitter. I don't know, the general feeling I get from all this. The bitterness. When I trawl through some of the cesspools that pass off as forums (like STOMP), I see all these comments that people make about this issue. And the things they say. It's childish. Things like, "One day I'm gonna make [elite school kids] work for me." I'm quoting from memory, but really that's almost word for word. This whole "hating elites" thing has become, for lack of a better word, stupid.

Anyway I digress. This post is pretty badly organised and shite, but that's what you get when you try to construct a coherent argument while running a fever. So, back to the article about values. "Scoring high in grades but not in values". Really? Cos I take offense in that. And I know lots of people who will. I come from a neighbourhood primary school, so it's not like I've been in "the system" my whole life. I know it's been a long time since then, but really, when it comes down to it, I don't think there is much difference between our values and theirs. We have the same mix of assholes and nice guys. The only thing I will admit is that so-called "elites" can come across as less genuine, because of how some people put on social graces and say things which they don't mean in an act of being polite. Certainly not sincere. But do we all pretend that we are on our best behaviour at all times? Sometimes we just have to put on a mask. It's not nice. But niether is being blatantly impolite.

There is of course one value which everyone seems to deem important but not know what it really means. I'm talking about integrity. I mean, most schools have this in their core values, and I know that anyone going for a scholarship interview would be like to list this as one of their msot highly regarded values. But really, it seems to me that lots of people are throwing this word around with little regard to what it means. A dictionary definition seems appropriate here. So here goes:

–noun

1. adherence to moral and ethical principles; soundness of moral character; honesty.

2. the state of being whole, entire, or undiminished: to preserve the integrity of the empire.

3. a sound, unimpaired, or perfect condition: the integrity of a ship's hull.

Now I suppose that the first definition is the one we should be looking at. But it seems like integrity is synonymous with honesty if we accept this definition. It has to be more than that, if it's such a great value. I therefore fall back on Ayn Rand, and her book Fountainhead for a better definition. This is said by Kent Lansing to Roark in part I:

"And what, incidentally, do you think integrity is? The ability not to pick a watch out of your neighbor's pocket? No, it's not as easy as that. If that were all, I'd say ninety-five percent of humanity were honest, upright men. Only, as you can see, they aren't. Integrity is the ability to stand by an idea. That presupposes the ability to think. Thinking is something one doesn't borrow or pawn."

Now I will not talk about whether man has the ability to think or not. I'm gonna make a fairly large assumption here and assume that most men can think for themselves, and decide matters for themselves. I really don't have the mood to engage in overly heavy discussion now. But anyway I digress.

If say integrity is the ability to stand by an idea, or a principal, or some value or moral that one has, then natually someone who has integrity can never compromise. There cannot be room for compromise if you are standing by an idea or a value. Like Rorsarch from Watchmen. "No. Not even in the face of Armageddon. Never compromise." There can be no compromise in this. And similarly not just in our actions and character, but in everything we do. Like every piece of work we may commission, there has to be integrity in it. Like a person, every piece of work we do can have integrity. And - again - like a person, just as seldom. I really believe that to have integrity we must stick by our decisions. All too often people waver and opt for the easy way out. I mean, we cave too easily under pressure. The concept of the moral absolutist, Rorsarch is indeed an extreme example. It is difficult to imagine living like that. But the very fact that such an ideal can be thought about, that it can be conceptualised, means we are capable of at least attempting such a feat. It makes you think about all the people in the world, how we compromise on our ideas all the time. It makes you think if we're just giving ourselves excuses for not being able to live like that. Or maybe it really is impossible to live with integrity. But really, I do try. The very word compromise carries such negative connotations. Brings another quote from the Fountainhead to mind though:

"I can accept anything, except what seems to be the easiest for most people: the half-way, the almost, the just-about, the in-betweeen."

And I believe in this. How can we accept something that just-about comes to our expectations, or something that is half-way to our expectations? How can we live with ourselves after that? I mean, it's difficult thing to swallow, compromise, yet we do it all the time. Why? To please everyone? Seriously? I don't know anymore. Everything is difficult, but if it were easy, would it be worth doing? I'm think I'm slipping into some kind of existential angst here, so I'll stop going down this line.

But really, though, coming back to integrity, it's like in the movie Scent of a Woman, in the scene where Al Pacino was about to commit suicide. And he says this line, "All my life I've stood up to everyone and everything, because it made me feel *important*. You do it... because you mean it. You've got integrity". And that's the thing, really. I feel like all my life I have been standing up to people only for the sake of doing so. On some rare occasions I do actually stand up for what I do believe in. Far and few. But I'm trying to change that.

But really. People speak of integrity like it's so easy to practice, when really it's one of the hardest things to do in life.

waiting too long

2010-04-20T18:58:00.002+08:00

Don't you hate it when you don't know a person's name, but you know the person long enough that it makes things awkward to ask the person for their name?

The same thing for msn. When does it become too awkward for you to add a contact?

Or Facebook even? I mean I don't have Facebook, so I'm not too sure about this one. But really, after a period of time doesn't it just become too awkward to add someone on msn? Or something. I don't know anymore.

I find things become awkward very easily. It's probably just me, cos I'm not exactly the most forthcoming person when it comes to establishing relationships with people. Yeah I'm just an unfriendly bastard. Anyway that aside.

Doesn't anyone else feel that wit is such a fickle thing? I mean it works perfectly fine when you don't need it, like when no one else is around. But it ceases to work in actual conversation. What's the point with that? Or maybe just not quickwitted enough. Or something.

And I think I'm very badly adjusted to society. Somehow I never matured or something. I don't know. But really, I can imagine thousands of things to say, but always clamp up when I actually need to say them. Maybe that's why I can write but cannot speak too well. I mean I can give a decent presentation or structure a proper argument in speech, but seriously I think I express ideas the best on paper. And also preferably when noone is reading while I am writing. I get all conscious when I know someone is reading as I'm writing. Conscious and inhibited. Maybe I'm just wierd like that.

Ok this turned out alot more personal than I thought it would. I should stop writing. One day I'm gonna spill my heart out on this blog. I should stop before I do something stupid like that.

"the best way to get over a woman is to turn her into literature"

2010-04-13T20:03:00.003+08:00

But I'm not quite there yet. No.

No, don't worry this post isn't gonna be about me moping about women and shite (again), I'm not gonna bitch either. But I haven't really thought about anything much to post about actually, mainly cos I've been busy recently with a rather mind-numbing activity. Some of you may know this as "school".

But I have been able to dig up something. I thought I lost this. And anyway I'm lazy to write new shit all the time. It's title should be "Between Worlds":

After days of travel in a small, cramped little spacecraft, we were finally approaching the Alien’s planet. We, the last batch of troops, were about to land and continue the long and bloody space war. I don’t know myself who actually started the war; no one I know do, actually. All I know was the President was the one who issued the Order; we weren’t to invade and capture, we were to capture and destroy. It was a war of elimination – of attrition – and many lives were already lost.

I had little idea what I was fighting for. I wasn’t a patriot; I wouldn’t die for the stars and stripes, certainly not for the President and his damned ideals. I guess I was fighting for myself mainly, my family – wife, two kids. Not to mention my 1967 Porsche.

Anyways, the spacecraft landed neatly in one of our captured areas, and we trooped out of the exit. I was immediately struck by the similarity of the Alien world to Earth. The surroundings were war torn and in ruins, though I could still make out a statue standing in the middle of it all, strangely untouched by the war, a symbol of peace perhaps; it possessed a strange beauty to it, and it reminded me of old Liberty from back home (may she stand tall and proud forever). I mean, I may well have mistaken it for someplace in Earth, if not for the weird and outlandish architecture.

We gathered in a nearby tent for a short briefing by a fit, burly man, the kind who makes you wonder what he was doing standing there briefing us, when he should have been fighting on the frontlines. After the briefing, and a short last meal, we ventured off into battlefield, into the unknown. We tread over hundreds of corpses, both human and Alien alike, all of them in varying states of decomposition. Some were so rotten, that if you were so unlucky as to step on them, your feet would sink right into the oozing mush. In some areas, the body count was so high that the ground was buried beneath the corpses. The worst thing of all was the smell. They say nothing smells worse than a human corpse. “They” stand corrected. Nothing smells worse than human corpses and Alien bodies together. It was pretty disgusting, yeah.

We ventured cautiously further into the city – what was left of it anyway. Suddenly, shots started raining down from our front and sides, hard, fast, and merciless. It’s no fun seeing someone next to you die. When you spend a few days in a small cramped spacecraft, you get to know these people; heck, the guy who just went down next to me had a family, a daughter and all… I even knew he had a dog called Lucy. And you wonder, am I the next to die, ’cos seeing things like these does wonders to one’s morale – we were slowly but surely losing the will to fight.

The signal came for us to retreat, and we started to move back the way we came. Half the squad had already gone down within our few minutes of futile resistance. From the corner of my eye, I saw my comrade’s head blow up in an explosion of red vapour. Our squad was getting destroyed.

Some people like to boast about adrenalin rushes in times of action, where they suddenly become brave war heroes on the field. That’s bull. Me, I’ll give it to you straight. There’s just cold, raw fear, nothing more, nothing less. Fear is the only thing that kept me moving, fear of getting shot, fear of dying. I was about to make it, just about to turn the corner, into the safe haven, when I was hit squarely in the back. Some days, I feel I’m the only one obeying Murphy’s Law. Today is one of them.

It was unlike anything I had ever experienced. A continuous, sharp, biting pain, stabbing me again and again and again… I stumbled forward, and tried to call to my teammates, but my mouth just gaped in a silent scream. I fell in slow motion, and every second seemed like eternity. I finally fell and tumbled onto my back to face the sky, which was just as blue as ours back home. The pain had subsided and I experienced an overall numbness. And so it appeared, I was to die here, among my fellow countrymen, as they say “Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori”. Though… was that a damned Alien next to me?

Out of the corner of my eye, I could just make out a scaly form lying next to me. Great. Just great. It seemed like my life AND death was destined to suck. And, then, just as I thought it couldn’t get any worse, the Alien moved its hand, slowly inching towards my head. It appeared that like me, it was dying, though not quite dead yet. I tried to get my hands to move, but my rather disobedient hands seemed stubbornly unwilling to move even to save their body. The Alien’s hand finally dropped like a guillotine onto my forehead.

It appeared that the force from the Alien’s hand was not enough to snuff out the last wisp of breath from me yet, though it was giving me a small throbbing headache. The pain in my head slowly increased, till it felt like my head would explode. Then a stream of images rushed into my head, flashing by like a slideshow in my mind’s eye. It took me a while to figure out that the images were actually the Alien’s memories; I saw his family, his life and everything he had ever held dear to himself. He too had a wife he cared for; two little Alien offspring… he went to work, and like me, went to war. And that was when I realised: how could we be so different, yet so alike?

We, from two different worlds, share so much in common. Yet even so, our two great races were engaged in this pointless and bloody war. I then tried to force my own memories back to him through our sacred link, and I felt my thoughts drain out of me into the Alien. When he finally took away his hand from my head, I think we both felt, or at least I felt, that we weren’t so alien to each other anymore.

And now, as we lay there dying, probably the only two who truly understood. I stared off into the distance, where I could just make out the flashes of crossfire from a distant conflict. We lay there, in the middle of this great war between worlds.

I looked up at the sky, and I could almost imagine the sweet blue sky from home, and I realised that while I wouldn’t have ever wanted to die next to some Alien, and that the Alien next to me mayn’t have ever been my friend, but at least, he wasn’t so alien to me anymore, and I was perfectly fine with dying with him.

not that i'm an expert on this, but still...

2010-04-06T21:07:00.003+08:00

I wish that females would step up to the task of making things more equal. It seems like women want equality in all the cool stuff but none of the shit jobs. Like it's convention that a man should ask the woman out. Now this has to be one of the shittiest jobs in the world. I don't suppose it's entirely the girls' fault that they don't step up to this task, because some people I know think that when women ask men out it just comes across as slutty or whorelike. Which doesn't quite make sense to me, but still. If it's word on the street, kind of hard to change that.

I don't particularly think that girls can't ask guys out. Sure, not as "normal", whatever that means now. But I think it would be a welcome change. Because asking someone out has to be one of the shittiest jobs ever. I mean any guy who has ever asked a girl out or ever thought about asking a girl out would know what I mean. There is always the fear of being rejected. I mean, I think this comes from the inane human desire to feel accepted or wanted by others, mainly to assuage their selfworth and reassurance of their own value as a human being. This is by no means true or proven of the human psyche, it's just my own bullshit understanding of this (I fancy myself to be an armchair psychologist. Not a very good one, but still.). Anyway I digress.

There's always that underlying fear of getting rejected. I mean you play that moment where you are gonna go up to her and ask her out thousands of times in your head. That itself is torture. And when you actually do ask her, what happens when she looks at you like you're some piece of shit, her eyes saying, "Excuse me, I'm a 7 and you're a 5, is that not clear to you?"

And while we're on the subject of women. It seems like girls have such high expectations of guys. Ok, I admit it goes both ways, but still, it's like you hear girls go, "Chivalry is dead." Yes it is, and women killed it. I think it's because we as a people have read too many magazines. It's all those articles, like "Know your guys" or "10 things you didn't know about men" or something, usually written by some woman. And that's the problem really. Girls and guys read too many things about the opposite sex written by their own sex. And it creates all these expectations which are either so difficult to fulfil or so far off the mark that people are just don't see each other for what they are anymore. I think everyone would be much happier if we didn't need to put up all these social graces to fit in with societal expectations. If men could be men and women could be women, I think the world would be much better off, I honestly think so.

Ok long story short, if you pulled the tl;dr on me, well here's the thing you need to know: I'm a coward with the inability to actually shout to the world what I really think in real life for the fear of being hated. I'm also a coward for not being able to express my feelings.

"But I'm tryin', Ringo."

i sometimes suspect i'm a girl (true story)

2010-04-03T01:35:00.004+08:00

Can't seem to get these lines out of my head. I'm pretty sure that I must have heard them/watched them/ read them somewhere else before, because I don't quite think I possess the genius to write this. But they seem stuck in my head now and anyway I may want to use them in the future or something. Yeah I love quoting/using these cool stuff. So sue me.

Woman: I'd like to know that I can make you happy by staying.
Man: You can't. I don't think anyone can make someone else happy. I think it's something we all have to do for ourselves. (pause) But you can make me very unhappy by leaving.

I find this oddly romantic.