this is a long overdue post
got sparked because this girl from georgia just emailed me. i met her at the globe and it started when we made eye contact, and we (i) didn't know what to do with it (typical) so she just came over to say hi, and remarked that asians sometimes can look really serious sometimes. anyhow, it did break the ice and i sure wish i had an ability like that.
she seemed unnaturally interested in asians though, as i left my name in her autograph book and impressed her with chinese characters.
merchant of venice speaks directly to me. i enjoyed it more than othello:
"he was wont to call me usurer, let him look to his bond." haha.
it's only a problem play insofar that that antonio's fate is left ambiguous and because of shylock's forced conversion, but i'm sure that wouldn't exactly be interpreted as tragedy. portia was brilliant, considering that the real portia fell sick and nerissa had to play portia and jessica had to play nerissa and jessica was well, jessica, and jessica had to meet nerissa in scene 5.
6/20/2007
6/19/2007
now that i'm actually back up and running and taking buses and taxis across singapore, sometimes i draw a link. i see things and i want to write them down, and at first i think it is because somehow something in the soil touches me.
objectively though, what are the things i've seen? much has changed, the shops have changed, the big ferris wheel is up, and i must say i'm happy with the diversity of shops and the new architecture up in singapore (the supreme court, for example, i felt was very well done). but i know singapore in a different way i know london. maybe memory formation hasn't occured yet, or maybe i haven't had a chance to miss it. when i passed by the white sign by the armenian church, i remember that it wasn't always there, i first discovered it in this "singapore search" thing way back in school. i remember crossing the junction to the hotel to attend the lse induction program. i look for the stamford road bus stop and i find it has been replaced by a tunnel which isn't very useful (and now the road runs through smu). i see the class benches and i am reminded of how class benches are such a hwa chong thing, and how nice it must be to have class benches in school.
when i go to people's park, and the lawyer situated within the dinghy walls, i am reminded that there are 2 singapores. as john nash's fictionalized friend, mediocrity (beer), i have utmost respect for. it is hard to explain my strange relationship with mediocrity. perhaps it is personal fear of failure, or too much arthur miller, but when billy joel plays "piano man", or when i speak to such people, i cannot help thinking that the world is built on mediocrity and normality. after all, it is not everyday that mongolian models are blown up with plastic explosives. some lawyers are about translation, checking and checking, and yeah, it doesn't seem like such a great interesting job. something like being a gp. but these are the people who will be respected in the villages, because you speak and interact with them, and it is wonderful to see how they take pride in tying the ribbons and checking documents a few times, and being an appointed public notary. sure, they charge about 130 bucks. and he too speaks enthusiastically about sending his kids abroad, to give them a better future, to break free from mediocrity, as the huge collection of college application handbooks evince. i saw an old man on the way back who looked startingly like lee kuan yew, except that he wasn't, but it all feels so familiar, people's park etc.
i think about my potential jobs and how i am supposed to explain them to someone, and it is so abstract. the new economy requires a certain abstraction or leap of the imagination. i am not a radical writer. my attraction to writing has always been rooted in memory and the past, and thus i am the sort of person that progress holds big trepidation for. so now i have an answer, maybe it is difficult for me to be optimistic, because i was happy at these moments in the past and i knew it, and i am not so sure about the future. what could it hold? more money, longer lives? perhaps the occassional moments of fulfillment. we'll see.
objectively though, what are the things i've seen? much has changed, the shops have changed, the big ferris wheel is up, and i must say i'm happy with the diversity of shops and the new architecture up in singapore (the supreme court, for example, i felt was very well done). but i know singapore in a different way i know london. maybe memory formation hasn't occured yet, or maybe i haven't had a chance to miss it. when i passed by the white sign by the armenian church, i remember that it wasn't always there, i first discovered it in this "singapore search" thing way back in school. i remember crossing the junction to the hotel to attend the lse induction program. i look for the stamford road bus stop and i find it has been replaced by a tunnel which isn't very useful (and now the road runs through smu). i see the class benches and i am reminded of how class benches are such a hwa chong thing, and how nice it must be to have class benches in school.
when i go to people's park, and the lawyer situated within the dinghy walls, i am reminded that there are 2 singapores. as john nash's fictionalized friend, mediocrity (beer), i have utmost respect for. it is hard to explain my strange relationship with mediocrity. perhaps it is personal fear of failure, or too much arthur miller, but when billy joel plays "piano man", or when i speak to such people, i cannot help thinking that the world is built on mediocrity and normality. after all, it is not everyday that mongolian models are blown up with plastic explosives. some lawyers are about translation, checking and checking, and yeah, it doesn't seem like such a great interesting job. something like being a gp. but these are the people who will be respected in the villages, because you speak and interact with them, and it is wonderful to see how they take pride in tying the ribbons and checking documents a few times, and being an appointed public notary. sure, they charge about 130 bucks. and he too speaks enthusiastically about sending his kids abroad, to give them a better future, to break free from mediocrity, as the huge collection of college application handbooks evince. i saw an old man on the way back who looked startingly like lee kuan yew, except that he wasn't, but it all feels so familiar, people's park etc.
i think about my potential jobs and how i am supposed to explain them to someone, and it is so abstract. the new economy requires a certain abstraction or leap of the imagination. i am not a radical writer. my attraction to writing has always been rooted in memory and the past, and thus i am the sort of person that progress holds big trepidation for. so now i have an answer, maybe it is difficult for me to be optimistic, because i was happy at these moments in the past and i knew it, and i am not so sure about the future. what could it hold? more money, longer lives? perhaps the occassional moments of fulfillment. we'll see.
6/18/2007
want to get rich right, quite easy what
no this is not spam. this is capitalism at work. economists tell you that trade benefits both people. traders will tell you that for a trade to work, you need a fool.
http://homeincomesg.com/
http://homeincomesg.com/
the canal runs through here / nozick returns
singapore brings out the opinion in me. i walked up to the atm machine in orchard at lip's prompting, i put in my card, pressed "gst credit" and got 200 bucks. was i happy? you bet, i just got 200 bucks. me, ex-ns man.
one part of me wanted to complain. i stay in landed property, i don't need the gst credits because i won't be in singapore, and i know a thousand other people who won't need it as well, but the avowed aim is probably to lessen the regressive aspect of the tax. so, there is a part of you that feels very bad, that wants to blame the government for giving you this money (what a stupid policy), when you know you're just going to use it to buy clothes.
but think about it. you don't like the fact that this money comes so easy? then give it away. why do we always expect the government to do the redistribution for us? i could have taken the 200 bucks and given it away to a charity (although admittedly, it would be hard for me to find out which particular needy person needs it). whatever it is, some moral responsibility must be taken by yourself for not redistributing if you believe in redistribution. admittedly, though, this scheme is a little like paying tax and having it returned to you, considering the non-discerning nature of the taxation.
there are a few arguments for government redistribution:
scale effects: they have less transaction costs. they can put in the money easily
selection effect: they do possess more channels and information regarding who is really needy
so yeah, in a way there are arguments why governments should redistribute, but if you are a true libertarian, then one cannot blame the government for not redistributing, you should be rejoicing that they are not forcing you into forced labour. what i mean is that there is a flipside to nozick's philosophy: your money, your tyranny, your responsibility. (and my responsibility)
singapore has nice food, but it's all a little too oily. life nowadays is about property and finance. it's depressing. i think that is why i foresee best that i have to wander from place to place from time to time.
one part of me wanted to complain. i stay in landed property, i don't need the gst credits because i won't be in singapore, and i know a thousand other people who won't need it as well, but the avowed aim is probably to lessen the regressive aspect of the tax. so, there is a part of you that feels very bad, that wants to blame the government for giving you this money (what a stupid policy), when you know you're just going to use it to buy clothes.
but think about it. you don't like the fact that this money comes so easy? then give it away. why do we always expect the government to do the redistribution for us? i could have taken the 200 bucks and given it away to a charity (although admittedly, it would be hard for me to find out which particular needy person needs it). whatever it is, some moral responsibility must be taken by yourself for not redistributing if you believe in redistribution. admittedly, though, this scheme is a little like paying tax and having it returned to you, considering the non-discerning nature of the taxation.
there are a few arguments for government redistribution:
scale effects: they have less transaction costs. they can put in the money easily
selection effect: they do possess more channels and information regarding who is really needy
so yeah, in a way there are arguments why governments should redistribute, but if you are a true libertarian, then one cannot blame the government for not redistributing, you should be rejoicing that they are not forcing you into forced labour. what i mean is that there is a flipside to nozick's philosophy: your money, your tyranny, your responsibility. (and my responsibility)
singapore has nice food, but it's all a little too oily. life nowadays is about property and finance. it's depressing. i think that is why i foresee best that i have to wander from place to place from time to time.
6/17/2007
Operation Entebbe (another digression)
Heard about it from the Last King of Scotland.
If the US needs to learn how to do special ops, they should talk to the Mossad more, (although I'm sure they do)
Ok, our very own SAF's hijack response was pretty good too.
This is different class. 4 C130's flying to a foreign country landing with no ground control at night and about a platoon of men (mixed IDF/commando). included were 4 APC's which they used to take out Uganda's air force of fighters (11 mig 17's) sitting at the airport to cover their escape, 1 casualty, who was the commander of the op, because he tio ugandan sniper. (elder bro, very handsome, of benjamin netanyahu.) talk about making sure all your men are safe.
ugandan casualty = 45. and they fight on home ground. couple of grenades settle them.
just like prison break, israeli architects were involved in building entebbe airport and they were able to make a replica in 2-3 days, and mossad extensively interviewed freed passengers.
lesson: want to rule by force, make sure your armed forces not so chui. buy fighters get them to sit around. damn cmi.
after uganda tried to complain at the UN (what, after helping the hijacking?) chaim herzog retorted:
We come with a simple message to the Council: we are proud of what we have done because we have demonstrated to the world that a small country, in Israel's circumstances, with which the members of this Council are by now all too familiar, the dignity of man, human life and human freedom constitute the highest values. We are proud not only because we have saved the lives of over a hundred innocent people—men, women and children—but because of the significance of our act for the cause of human freedom.
If the US needs to learn how to do special ops, they should talk to the Mossad more, (although I'm sure they do)
Ok, our very own SAF's hijack response was pretty good too.
This is different class. 4 C130's flying to a foreign country landing with no ground control at night and about a platoon of men (mixed IDF/commando). included were 4 APC's which they used to take out Uganda's air force of fighters (11 mig 17's) sitting at the airport to cover their escape, 1 casualty, who was the commander of the op, because he tio ugandan sniper. (elder bro, very handsome, of benjamin netanyahu.) talk about making sure all your men are safe.
ugandan casualty = 45. and they fight on home ground. couple of grenades settle them.
just like prison break, israeli architects were involved in building entebbe airport and they were able to make a replica in 2-3 days, and mossad extensively interviewed freed passengers.
lesson: want to rule by force, make sure your armed forces not so chui. buy fighters get them to sit around. damn cmi.
after uganda tried to complain at the UN (what, after helping the hijacking?) chaim herzog retorted:
We come with a simple message to the Council: we are proud of what we have done because we have demonstrated to the world that a small country, in Israel's circumstances, with which the members of this Council are by now all too familiar, the dignity of man, human life and human freedom constitute the highest values. We are proud not only because we have saved the lives of over a hundred innocent people—men, women and children—but because of the significance of our act for the cause of human freedom.
6/16/2007
photos...
musee marrakesh
mint tea
marrakshi sunset, with the adhan sounding over the city
road to ouarzazate
high atlas
amsterdam... pardon the digression, pretty good photo of her, which i neglected to pass to her. she's living it up in greece now. "la vie en rose" was not a particularly good film, but i like its theme. life is lived in moments. all this is just in-between. i am particulaly sceptical now about looking out for the future, etc. a whole year of it. today i want to live in the past. i miss the past. coming back to singapore. whatever lah, go talk about jobs and whatever you're going to do this summer and whatever, the reality is, i'm just doing what i'm going to do because i am afraid of being bored and just don't want to stay in the same place. i work to earn money. end of story. a reason, an aim? non, rien de rien.
ok, airport shot, lame.
lame.
horse, lame.
madrasah ali ben youssef
6/14/2007
first day was spent trawling the souqs in the medina of marrakech. it reminds me of the little markets in hanoi because each street literally sells a different type of thing. leather street, lamp street etc. didn't bargain to well for my first purchase, i didn't know the prices and i got it down to only half and i felt in a rush. got it down to 40% of his price.
in contrast, in Ouarzazate, ورزازات ,which was a Saharan desert outpost 200 km south of Marrakesh, I got bored with the really really boring kasbah there. 1. It was really hot, about 42 degrees celsius. 2. it was a crappy kasbah. i had seen Ait Benhaddou a while earlier. I had one and a half hours to spend, and i didn't want to sit in the cafe listening to the old man playing his two-stringed instrument strangely reminiscent of the erhu. even the spanish couple remarked as such. anyway, i looked around, and i got waylaid by a berber who tried to sell me cloths and camel skin leather. i get pretty irritated when people konichiwa me, although it usually means they haven't seen enough chinese in the area to tell me apart from japanese. i usually try to set them straight. anyway, i went off in franglish, and the berber got confused and asked me what language i wanted to bargain in. i said anything, and he said arabic? so i asked if he would like to bargain with me in chinese, we all laughed and sat down. the rivalry had begun.
so this time i got the price down to very very low. (albeit it was a crappier quality, and they start with higher prices. it's so unrealistic. 65 euro starting price?) it got down to the point where i refused to budge, and he asked if i had anything to offer him. no cigarettes this time, and then he wanted to look through my bag to see if i had anything interesting. i anticipated him asking if i was willing to sell any of my prized possessions for a low low price. now, i'd just bought my fred perry jacket for £15, but i wouldn't mind selling it to him at 225 dirham. there, just so you know i can part with things for above cost as well. aah yes, but why would he need a jacket in the sahara? (for the desert nights i retorted). no cigarettes on me, and there was no way i was giving him my only pen required for filling in embarkation cards.
morocco
i have unfortunately packed my card reader in and therefore i will have no photos to post on morocco. perhaps i will steal some off the net.
ryanair had just run a feature on travelling solo. i do know that for long periods of time, travelling solo just gets to me. sometimes you just don't know where to go, and you'd prefer just following someone who'd see something they'd like.
anyway, i'm glad to report i returned safe and sound from morocco. firstly, morocco is largely francophone, so getting by was not much of a problem. it seems many of them speak it as a second language. nothing lost, and the budget was incredible, it was 8 euro a night for accommodation, for a nice riad-like hostel with a bright room and nice enough bed. showers were rubbish, not hot water, manual flush (fill pail with water, pour pail into hole) squatting toilets and no cold water. at least it's not take water from big tank and pour over myself. otherwise, just like rural indonesia. i don't think some of my fellow travellers got what they bargained for.
Food
food was generally affordable. the first night at the djemaa (the largest square in africa) i wandered around and was looking at what to eat. lentil soup was 2.5 dirhams (0.25 euro), and i had also a nice 4 course meal later, consisting of bread, aubergine paste, moroccan salsa (that's what i call it) fried fish and chips. fish was fried in light batter, very boney. along with a drink, 2.7 euro in total. you do the usual trick of going where you see only moroccans.
now the stupid thing is, i got stuck in the tourist trap AFTER doing this. the next night, enlightened by my first experience, i trawled the djemaa again. because i wanted to have some couscous/tagine, i decided to go to one of the larger stalls where there were a few moroccans, and a big thai production crew who were filming after being in fez. had crappy tagine and food for 7.5 euros! anyway, i learnt later that most moroccans don't eat out.
Best tagine was at Cafe Argana, a restaurant overlooking the square, on the last night. nice lamb tagine with figs and dates, sweet and very citrusy.
big lovers of orange juice, everywhere there are people juicing oranges. their pastries are influenced by the french, lots of croissants. btw, "croissant rouge" is the red cross! lots of dates and sweet things. i was also addicted to mint tea
i did not see much shisha, although dodgy young men were constantly trying to sell me hashish/kif, and i saw some glue sniffers around. i felt pretty safe in morocco, in the sense that i felt there was a constant police presence and a sense of social justice in the place. for example, i realised that the attitude they take towards beggars is very different. many of them choose to give freely and even banter with people who ask for alms, and they give though they themselves to do not look fantastically well off.
i woke up at 6 everyday, not feeling too tired, and was off and running by 6.15. in case this sounds insanely early, the adhan sounds at 4 - 4.30 in the morning. this usually wakes me, and an hour or more of sleep will suffice. moroccans are early risers (as most developing countries tend to be), and i usually had to get up early for the bus out.
ryanair had just run a feature on travelling solo. i do know that for long periods of time, travelling solo just gets to me. sometimes you just don't know where to go, and you'd prefer just following someone who'd see something they'd like.
anyway, i'm glad to report i returned safe and sound from morocco. firstly, morocco is largely francophone, so getting by was not much of a problem. it seems many of them speak it as a second language. nothing lost, and the budget was incredible, it was 8 euro a night for accommodation, for a nice riad-like hostel with a bright room and nice enough bed. showers were rubbish, not hot water, manual flush (fill pail with water, pour pail into hole) squatting toilets and no cold water. at least it's not take water from big tank and pour over myself. otherwise, just like rural indonesia. i don't think some of my fellow travellers got what they bargained for.
Food
food was generally affordable. the first night at the djemaa (the largest square in africa) i wandered around and was looking at what to eat. lentil soup was 2.5 dirhams (0.25 euro), and i had also a nice 4 course meal later, consisting of bread, aubergine paste, moroccan salsa (that's what i call it) fried fish and chips. fish was fried in light batter, very boney. along with a drink, 2.7 euro in total. you do the usual trick of going where you see only moroccans.
now the stupid thing is, i got stuck in the tourist trap AFTER doing this. the next night, enlightened by my first experience, i trawled the djemaa again. because i wanted to have some couscous/tagine, i decided to go to one of the larger stalls where there were a few moroccans, and a big thai production crew who were filming after being in fez. had crappy tagine and food for 7.5 euros! anyway, i learnt later that most moroccans don't eat out.
Best tagine was at Cafe Argana, a restaurant overlooking the square, on the last night. nice lamb tagine with figs and dates, sweet and very citrusy.
big lovers of orange juice, everywhere there are people juicing oranges. their pastries are influenced by the french, lots of croissants. btw, "croissant rouge" is the red cross! lots of dates and sweet things. i was also addicted to mint tea
i did not see much shisha, although dodgy young men were constantly trying to sell me hashish/kif, and i saw some glue sniffers around. i felt pretty safe in morocco, in the sense that i felt there was a constant police presence and a sense of social justice in the place. for example, i realised that the attitude they take towards beggars is very different. many of them choose to give freely and even banter with people who ask for alms, and they give though they themselves to do not look fantastically well off.
i woke up at 6 everyday, not feeling too tired, and was off and running by 6.15. in case this sounds insanely early, the adhan sounds at 4 - 4.30 in the morning. this usually wakes me, and an hour or more of sleep will suffice. moroccans are early risers (as most developing countries tend to be), and i usually had to get up early for the bus out.
6/06/2007
i know what i feel
it always gives way to tiredness.
when it comes down to reality
it's fine with me 'cause I've let it slide
past 2 nights, drink then sleep. i get sleepy so soon.
i know. i feel tired. it's been so tiring.
i've let enough slide. what's the point anyway, when you're not respected/appreciated/rewarded.
day by day lah. you'll get there.
reality says you're not good enough. so just go to sleep.
tomorrow, tomorrow, you're always a day away
when it comes down to reality
it's fine with me 'cause I've let it slide
past 2 nights, drink then sleep. i get sleepy so soon.
i know. i feel tired. it's been so tiring.
i've let enough slide. what's the point anyway, when you're not respected/appreciated/rewarded.
day by day lah. you'll get there.
reality says you're not good enough. so just go to sleep.
tomorrow, tomorrow, you're always a day away
6/01/2007
i bought this cd by kate walsh, this essex girl, which promised someone coming on as janis joplin with a glass of southern comfort. maybe her first album was, thought i don't quite think so.
she reminds me of the girl with braces and rosy cheeks and the "don't hurt me voice." i like girls like that, who write about butterflies and rainbows and fireworks. even when they're singing about being the town slag or one night stands, they still sound like the world is made out of big lumps of sugar. you cannot bear to hurt creatures such as these. when she introduces her song as about when her ex boyfriend dumped her, your temptation to cringe is immediately disarmed as she says: "in some other concerts, they'd have said aww." awwww. then "i'm not bitter, no i'm not." and she starts singing, and all is forgiven.
it's not fair. she's so cute.
she reminds me of the girl with braces and rosy cheeks and the "don't hurt me voice." i like girls like that, who write about butterflies and rainbows and fireworks. even when they're singing about being the town slag or one night stands, they still sound like the world is made out of big lumps of sugar. you cannot bear to hurt creatures such as these. when she introduces her song as about when her ex boyfriend dumped her, your temptation to cringe is immediately disarmed as she says: "in some other concerts, they'd have said aww." awwww. then "i'm not bitter, no i'm not." and she starts singing, and all is forgiven.
it's not fair. she's so cute.
5/29/2007
exams are over, and i've gone for mahjong but skipped the drinking after. i'm too tired perhaps.
many a time i've gone onto this blog during the exam period, and i must have had last year too. i seem to be rather more out of whack during these periods. but i've had people now to share my thoughts too, so i think they don't matter as much. what are they but transient anyway?
i did possible the most perfect paper in my life. perhaps it is a little premature to say so but i think it is close to perfect, down to all the little details. i was rather relaxed for econometrics, perhaps all a little too burnt out, but it's nice to just sit down and let the thoughts flow through you. i was glad to be doing the paper and not some inane practice. i feel better about it than statistics last year, or maybe economic history. more fulfilling.
i felt god was with me, but maybe that was because i was listening to bob marley before hand, i i felt someone delivered me through the last 3 papers giving me exactly what i wanted to see, vs micro 2 which thoroughly deflated me.
i mean, don't pretend it's just another exam paper. it's something you put your life on hold for 2 months for. don't tell me it doesn't matter. in the large scheme of things it doesn't, but in the small scheme it's just like completing a marathon.
but back to the god metaphor, it's out of my hands now. i've looked for the right people (i hope), i've done the studying, which admittedly wasn't 100%, but now that i look at the years to come i just see mediocrity. it's humbling, in a way what has happened during the exam period. the hubris is gone, and i'm setting my life to default and i darent expect what will come next.
road trip to the lake district, and then my little jaunt to morocco. where i want to see the desert. part of a million things to do, like indonesian visa stuff, learning bahasa, house looking, arranging these things. but once i'm away i'm away, as i say, and i stop worrying, which is why i want to leave. it bugs me how i'm like that, how when the exam is over, nowadays i just worry about what needs to be settled next. just like a mother with 3 kids.
my kancheong dad called me, and it's heartwarming to here his kancheongness. it's more concern about how my paper was. he never fails to ask me that. but he asks me nowadays as well how i am, and he's generally taken a mellower edge. i never understood his fetish for results, not while younger at least. they don't matter, not in the big scheme of things. but i see a little.
last year when i finished my exam, i remember i grabbed a richard dawkins book and started digesting it voraciously. now i'm doing history of the arab peoples, and when i'm ready enough i'll start on some economics. drinking is beyond me, sometimes i wonder if i'm incapable of having fun or giving fun to those around me. i don't live to be the life of the party, maybe i just live for that ethereal feeling when you've done something perfect. and it's something you've accomplished not by destroying others, but racing against yourself.
bullshit aside, honestly, i really feel these things, whether i am illusioned or not. i thought, why let the fact that i can't seem to have fun depress me? they will come when it's time, and when i'm more ready for it. the other thought that bugs me is that i am a gaping hole, and i'm inadequately able to fit into what people desire for me. not enough love, not enough fun, related stream of thought.
i am massively afraid of abandonment. that it could be the last time i see someone. it's hitting me now, it could maybe not be the last time, but maybe the last chance to have fun together? i think about my grandmother and i worry about how much every last hug matters. or how every last hug matters so much that it's painful that you choose to inure yourself against hugging for fear that it will make you cry.
humans are like that as well, they're not just a bundle of emotion. that's why they're so tricky.
many a time i've gone onto this blog during the exam period, and i must have had last year too. i seem to be rather more out of whack during these periods. but i've had people now to share my thoughts too, so i think they don't matter as much. what are they but transient anyway?
i did possible the most perfect paper in my life. perhaps it is a little premature to say so but i think it is close to perfect, down to all the little details. i was rather relaxed for econometrics, perhaps all a little too burnt out, but it's nice to just sit down and let the thoughts flow through you. i was glad to be doing the paper and not some inane practice. i feel better about it than statistics last year, or maybe economic history. more fulfilling.
i felt god was with me, but maybe that was because i was listening to bob marley before hand, i i felt someone delivered me through the last 3 papers giving me exactly what i wanted to see, vs micro 2 which thoroughly deflated me.
i mean, don't pretend it's just another exam paper. it's something you put your life on hold for 2 months for. don't tell me it doesn't matter. in the large scheme of things it doesn't, but in the small scheme it's just like completing a marathon.
but back to the god metaphor, it's out of my hands now. i've looked for the right people (i hope), i've done the studying, which admittedly wasn't 100%, but now that i look at the years to come i just see mediocrity. it's humbling, in a way what has happened during the exam period. the hubris is gone, and i'm setting my life to default and i darent expect what will come next.
road trip to the lake district, and then my little jaunt to morocco. where i want to see the desert. part of a million things to do, like indonesian visa stuff, learning bahasa, house looking, arranging these things. but once i'm away i'm away, as i say, and i stop worrying, which is why i want to leave. it bugs me how i'm like that, how when the exam is over, nowadays i just worry about what needs to be settled next. just like a mother with 3 kids.
my kancheong dad called me, and it's heartwarming to here his kancheongness. it's more concern about how my paper was. he never fails to ask me that. but he asks me nowadays as well how i am, and he's generally taken a mellower edge. i never understood his fetish for results, not while younger at least. they don't matter, not in the big scheme of things. but i see a little.
last year when i finished my exam, i remember i grabbed a richard dawkins book and started digesting it voraciously. now i'm doing history of the arab peoples, and when i'm ready enough i'll start on some economics. drinking is beyond me, sometimes i wonder if i'm incapable of having fun or giving fun to those around me. i don't live to be the life of the party, maybe i just live for that ethereal feeling when you've done something perfect. and it's something you've accomplished not by destroying others, but racing against yourself.
bullshit aside, honestly, i really feel these things, whether i am illusioned or not. i thought, why let the fact that i can't seem to have fun depress me? they will come when it's time, and when i'm more ready for it. the other thought that bugs me is that i am a gaping hole, and i'm inadequately able to fit into what people desire for me. not enough love, not enough fun, related stream of thought.
i am massively afraid of abandonment. that it could be the last time i see someone. it's hitting me now, it could maybe not be the last time, but maybe the last chance to have fun together? i think about my grandmother and i worry about how much every last hug matters. or how every last hug matters so much that it's painful that you choose to inure yourself against hugging for fear that it will make you cry.
humans are like that as well, they're not just a bundle of emotion. that's why they're so tricky.
will be free today
a beautiful acoustic song by bob marley
Old pirates, yes, they rob I;
Sold I to the merchant ships,
Minutes after they took I
From the bottomless pit.
But my hand was made strong
By the 'and of the Almighty.
We forward in this generation
Triumphantly.
Won't you help to sing
These songs of freedom? -
'Cause all I ever have:
Redemption songs;
Redemption songs.
Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery;
None but ourselves can free our minds.
Have no fear for atomic energy,
'Cause none of them can stop the time.
How long shall they kill our prophets,
While we stand aside and look? Ooh!
Some say it's just a part of it:
We've got to fulfil de book.
Won't you help to sing
These songs of freedom? -
'Cause all I ever have:
Redemption songs;
Redemption songs;
Redemption songs.
Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery;
None but ourselves can free our mind.
Wo! Have no fear for atomic energy,
'Cause none of them-a can-a stop-a the time.
How long shall they kill our prophets,
While we stand aside and look?
Yes, some say it's just a part of it:
We've got to fulfil de book.
Won't you help to sing
Dese songs of freedom? -
'Cause all I ever had:
Redemption songs -
All I ever had:
Redemption songs:
These songs of freedom,
Songs of freedom.
Old pirates, yes, they rob I;
Sold I to the merchant ships,
Minutes after they took I
From the bottomless pit.
But my hand was made strong
By the 'and of the Almighty.
We forward in this generation
Triumphantly.
Won't you help to sing
These songs of freedom? -
'Cause all I ever have:
Redemption songs;
Redemption songs.
Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery;
None but ourselves can free our minds.
Have no fear for atomic energy,
'Cause none of them can stop the time.
How long shall they kill our prophets,
While we stand aside and look? Ooh!
Some say it's just a part of it:
We've got to fulfil de book.
Won't you help to sing
These songs of freedom? -
'Cause all I ever have:
Redemption songs;
Redemption songs;
Redemption songs.
Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery;
None but ourselves can free our mind.
Wo! Have no fear for atomic energy,
'Cause none of them-a can-a stop-a the time.
How long shall they kill our prophets,
While we stand aside and look?
Yes, some say it's just a part of it:
We've got to fulfil de book.
Won't you help to sing
Dese songs of freedom? -
'Cause all I ever had:
Redemption songs -
All I ever had:
Redemption songs:
These songs of freedom,
Songs of freedom.
5/01/2007
i am objectively nothing, because that is what people want to see.
in trying to be objectively something, you incur subjective wrath.
lie low, keep under the radar
everything's objectively better
shhhh.
it is better thus to be objectively neutral, like water.
water is objectively neutral.
belief is false, only what you want is true.
riddle me this riddle me that, bet you haven't got a clue!
in trying to be objectively something, you incur subjective wrath.
lie low, keep under the radar
everything's objectively better
shhhh.
it is better thus to be objectively neutral, like water.
water is objectively neutral.
belief is false, only what you want is true.
riddle me this riddle me that, bet you haven't got a clue!
i guess i am not a poet.
He was found by the Bureau of Statistics to be
One against whom there was no official complaint,
And all the reports on his conduct agree
That, in the modern sense of an old-fashioned word, he was a saint,
For in everything he did he served the Greater Community.
Except for the War till the day he retired
He worked in a factory and never got fired,
But satisfied his employers, Fudge Motors Inc.
Yet he wasn't a scab or odd in his views,
For his Union reports that he paid his dues,
(Our report on his Union shows it was sound)
And our Social Psychology workers found
That he was popular with his mates and liked a drink.
actually no, this isn't quite me
The Press are convinced that he bought a paper every day
And that his reactions to advertisements were normal in every way.
Policies taken out in his name prove that he was fully insured,
And his Health-card shows he was once in hospital but left it cured.
Both Producers Research and High-Grade Living declare
He was fully sensible to the advantages of the Installment Plan
And had everything necessary to the Modern Man,
A phonograph, a radio, a car and a frigidaire.
Our researchers into Public Opinion are content
That he held the proper opinions for he time of year;
When there was peace, he was for peace; when there was war, he went.
He was married and added five children to the population,
Which our Eugenist says was the right number for a parent of his generation.
And our teachers report that he never interfered with their education.
Was he free? Was he happy? The question is absurd:
Had anything been wrong, we should certainly have heard.
-W.H. Auden
One against whom there was no official complaint,
And all the reports on his conduct agree
That, in the modern sense of an old-fashioned word, he was a saint,
For in everything he did he served the Greater Community.
Except for the War till the day he retired
He worked in a factory and never got fired,
But satisfied his employers, Fudge Motors Inc.
Yet he wasn't a scab or odd in his views,
For his Union reports that he paid his dues,
(Our report on his Union shows it was sound)
And our Social Psychology workers found
That he was popular with his mates and liked a drink.
actually no, this isn't quite me
The Press are convinced that he bought a paper every day
And that his reactions to advertisements were normal in every way.
Policies taken out in his name prove that he was fully insured,
And his Health-card shows he was once in hospital but left it cured.
Both Producers Research and High-Grade Living declare
He was fully sensible to the advantages of the Installment Plan
And had everything necessary to the Modern Man,
A phonograph, a radio, a car and a frigidaire.
Our researchers into Public Opinion are content
That he held the proper opinions for he time of year;
When there was peace, he was for peace; when there was war, he went.
He was married and added five children to the population,
Which our Eugenist says was the right number for a parent of his generation.
And our teachers report that he never interfered with their education.
Was he free? Was he happy? The question is absurd:
Had anything been wrong, we should certainly have heard.
-W.H. Auden
4/09/2007
deconstructing mythologies, or writing comes back when you write back to something
THIS IS PRACTICE. I FORGOT HOW TO SPELL. EVER HEARD OF DERRIDA? OH AND YES I CAN'T SLEEP.
i just read that clarence is somewhere snorkelling in zanzibar taking a break from the somewhat thankless task of lending a hand to help in africa. the continent seems to suck in its fair share of volunteers, and why not, there is no other place in the world which is made out to be so despondent, so helpless. unfortunately, i am only able to tell from the figures, for neither my course nor my job will put me in such clear and present danger (although i will be doing development economics), and it is debatable if i will ever go to africa given that most of my economics classmates (and more) think africa has the appeal of a dead monkey, unless i happen to do field study for further study, which we all know they don't prescribe anyway. i won't go into the theory.
i miss singapore. yes, that place where i never quite fit in, but where do i fit in anyway. that place, which, is paternalistic, everyone dances in circles and dances the same thing and doesn't accept innovation in dance moves. yes, all very valid and pertinent points.
i cannot help thinking that our psychology is ruled by our pet peeves. (duh!). but, no, what i mean is, it is not weird that you thought all this in zouk. after all, it's your pet gripe, and you will see it everywhere. there is nothing like being out of love to notice how everyone else is getting together like take that again. theories are your cognitive biases. but you identify the following causal linkage, which i don't quite get. 1. singaporeans are superficial 2. therefore they are poseurs 3. therefore they are posing in a circle at zouk. under 2, there is a side point about not being able act differently. the way i see it fitting with the hypothesis, it is because there is a. a set social persona that people are expected to conform and behave to, and that is why everyone slots into their roles and isn't creative.
i've often thought that, until i realize i don't get drunk because of my much referenced problems with alcohol (no, not driving charges, i'm on the other scale.) i always thought when i died that i should give my liver to those caught for drunk driving so that they may never metabolize or enjoy alcohol again, but i digress. so, perhaps i am a poseur for simply turning up at a club and not dancing?
social situations all inevitably bring out an element of posing.
yes the japanese have it bad. but i think they gave the world sushi conveyor belts, sushi, and eating sushi off a naked woman's body. and tempura.
not forgetting copious amounts of creative pron fetish (hahah pron, tempura, get it?) condom vending machines, used underwear vending machines, gigantic walls of colour, anime, the playstation and the final fantasy series. and, the ito integral, just in case you think they're all about fun, and the mitsubishi evo. it didn't dent their creativity, it must be something else.
i agree, that maybe we should take life one day at a time. after all jamaica has it great, and they get to host the cricket world cup from time to time.
work is okay. many people define themselves like that, because a job has labels to it doesn't it? doctor, compassionate or maybe professional, lawyer, eloquent, investment banker, challenging etc. of course, money is the adjective in common. but why bang that? people do not work hard simply to buy stuff, here is the chronology (i am not disputing some people follow the suggested one, but here is an alternative)
oh damn, i'm leaving school. oh fuck fuck what should i do. i went to this good school and all, should think about getting a good job and all, after all, marx says, your job is your status right, esp in this capitalist society. hmm, ok, can choose challenging and hard job lah. but, some jobs work hard also, but also cannot buy LV mahnolo. if need to work hard, might as well choose better paying one right. so said person chooses job.
payday coming. wow. gonna get a lot of money, good good, can spend and reward myself.
vs.
payday coming. work so hard, cannot buy anything, prices keep going up.
life is tough.
argument: so you don't need to choose such a tough job. i used to be a socialist, i agreed. but i realised people work tough jobs whether they are paid or not, unless they think their way out of the system, or the system is changed. some people have the opportunity to get pretty slack okay paying jobs, good. but someone needs to do the tough jobs. actually, maybe not finance, maybe the world should just do with less capital and lower returns, less diversification of risk etc but don't correlations go to 1?
say you are looking for hardcore creativity. like making your own stuff, just chilling creative creative stuff. yeah great you have youtube, bloggers, tons of amateur stuff which is nice to look at, (and funny as it is, please, let's not take all art down that route). you need fucking insane people. the very people driven crazy by society, yet feel guilty enough to stick a knife in themselves from time to time. i can say that maybe what they lack is passion, but passion is the wrong word, passion is more like what you feel for your school. a kind of hard up desperation for fame success and immortality, that will destroy and consume you in flames muhaha. you need to be crazy. but crazy isn't chilling out, enjoying yourself. crazy is talking to yourself, crazy is believing you are right all the time, crazy is willing to spend 1000 hours because you think 1000 is a nice number.
anyway, there are lots of non-conformist singaporeans. probably just happened to be at the wrong party, on the wrong day.
i also agree that people shouldn't buy LVs or whatever, but it's a bit mean to say all people. clearly, if you are extraordinarily beautiful, you deserve one, maybe by being a model or something. if you're rich, and i don't mean need days to toil kind of rich, then you should be allowed to buy them too. why it is a violation of one's rights. clearly if i have the top decile of the income distribution concentrated on my hands i should be allowed to spend it. just acquisition and transfer, you know, and the like.
living for the moment, okay, but how is that not hedonistic, or can i call you a poseur too because i have seen you through my psychological pet peeve.
in variation, all things are sweet, said the poet euripides. not so, said aristotle, for just as it is the inferior human being who is prone to variation, so also the nature that needs variation is inferior, since it is not simple or decent.
aristotle is certainly a big fan of boredom (and he practises what he preaches!)
i just read that clarence is somewhere snorkelling in zanzibar taking a break from the somewhat thankless task of lending a hand to help in africa. the continent seems to suck in its fair share of volunteers, and why not, there is no other place in the world which is made out to be so despondent, so helpless. unfortunately, i am only able to tell from the figures, for neither my course nor my job will put me in such clear and present danger (although i will be doing development economics), and it is debatable if i will ever go to africa given that most of my economics classmates (and more) think africa has the appeal of a dead monkey, unless i happen to do field study for further study, which we all know they don't prescribe anyway. i won't go into the theory.
i miss singapore. yes, that place where i never quite fit in, but where do i fit in anyway. that place, which, is paternalistic, everyone dances in circles and dances the same thing and doesn't accept innovation in dance moves. yes, all very valid and pertinent points.
i cannot help thinking that our psychology is ruled by our pet peeves. (duh!). but, no, what i mean is, it is not weird that you thought all this in zouk. after all, it's your pet gripe, and you will see it everywhere. there is nothing like being out of love to notice how everyone else is getting together like take that again. theories are your cognitive biases. but you identify the following causal linkage, which i don't quite get. 1. singaporeans are superficial 2. therefore they are poseurs 3. therefore they are posing in a circle at zouk. under 2, there is a side point about not being able act differently. the way i see it fitting with the hypothesis, it is because there is a. a set social persona that people are expected to conform and behave to, and that is why everyone slots into their roles and isn't creative.
i've often thought that, until i realize i don't get drunk because of my much referenced problems with alcohol (no, not driving charges, i'm on the other scale.) i always thought when i died that i should give my liver to those caught for drunk driving so that they may never metabolize or enjoy alcohol again, but i digress. so, perhaps i am a poseur for simply turning up at a club and not dancing?
social situations all inevitably bring out an element of posing.
yes the japanese have it bad. but i think they gave the world sushi conveyor belts, sushi, and eating sushi off a naked woman's body. and tempura.
not forgetting copious amounts of creative pron fetish (hahah pron, tempura, get it?) condom vending machines, used underwear vending machines, gigantic walls of colour, anime, the playstation and the final fantasy series. and, the ito integral, just in case you think they're all about fun, and the mitsubishi evo. it didn't dent their creativity, it must be something else.
i agree, that maybe we should take life one day at a time. after all jamaica has it great, and they get to host the cricket world cup from time to time.
work is okay. many people define themselves like that, because a job has labels to it doesn't it? doctor, compassionate or maybe professional, lawyer, eloquent, investment banker, challenging etc. of course, money is the adjective in common. but why bang that? people do not work hard simply to buy stuff, here is the chronology (i am not disputing some people follow the suggested one, but here is an alternative)
oh damn, i'm leaving school. oh fuck fuck what should i do. i went to this good school and all, should think about getting a good job and all, after all, marx says, your job is your status right, esp in this capitalist society. hmm, ok, can choose challenging and hard job lah. but, some jobs work hard also, but also cannot buy LV mahnolo. if need to work hard, might as well choose better paying one right. so said person chooses job.
payday coming. wow. gonna get a lot of money, good good, can spend and reward myself.
vs.
payday coming. work so hard, cannot buy anything, prices keep going up.
life is tough.
argument: so you don't need to choose such a tough job. i used to be a socialist, i agreed. but i realised people work tough jobs whether they are paid or not, unless they think their way out of the system, or the system is changed. some people have the opportunity to get pretty slack okay paying jobs, good. but someone needs to do the tough jobs. actually, maybe not finance, maybe the world should just do with less capital and lower returns, less diversification of risk etc but don't correlations go to 1?
say you are looking for hardcore creativity. like making your own stuff, just chilling creative creative stuff. yeah great you have youtube, bloggers, tons of amateur stuff which is nice to look at, (and funny as it is, please, let's not take all art down that route). you need fucking insane people. the very people driven crazy by society, yet feel guilty enough to stick a knife in themselves from time to time. i can say that maybe what they lack is passion, but passion is the wrong word, passion is more like what you feel for your school. a kind of hard up desperation for fame success and immortality, that will destroy and consume you in flames muhaha. you need to be crazy. but crazy isn't chilling out, enjoying yourself. crazy is talking to yourself, crazy is believing you are right all the time, crazy is willing to spend 1000 hours because you think 1000 is a nice number.
anyway, there are lots of non-conformist singaporeans. probably just happened to be at the wrong party, on the wrong day.
i also agree that people shouldn't buy LVs or whatever, but it's a bit mean to say all people. clearly, if you are extraordinarily beautiful, you deserve one, maybe by being a model or something. if you're rich, and i don't mean need days to toil kind of rich, then you should be allowed to buy them too. why it is a violation of one's rights. clearly if i have the top decile of the income distribution concentrated on my hands i should be allowed to spend it. just acquisition and transfer, you know, and the like.
living for the moment, okay, but how is that not hedonistic, or can i call you a poseur too because i have seen you through my psychological pet peeve.
in variation, all things are sweet, said the poet euripides. not so, said aristotle, for just as it is the inferior human being who is prone to variation, so also the nature that needs variation is inferior, since it is not simple or decent.
aristotle is certainly a big fan of boredom (and he practises what he preaches!)
C is for Sleepy
one day, i will type out every single letter of Anscombe's pamphlet, Mr Truman's degree, regardless of legality, since people complain they can't find the text online. In it contains every last drop of sarcasm and wit that I have lost over the past few years used to bitch about various aspects of how the world is unfair. it makes pleasant studying, at least, to see that people can still be so bitingly funny.
as i sit and think, all i run up against is frustration.
my computer is down.
I can't sleep, but there is nothing to do when i can't sleep because i don't have my own computer, so i rely on little raids on Michelle's computer.
She is sleeping now.
My allowances aren't in yet.
My internship posting is left hanging.
I have to study for exams.
so there are 6 negative things hanging over me now, in the immediate present. is there a tense for that. ten-sion.
spring is here. i wonder whether chairman's read blogs. because my friend in the edb has his chairman looking around from time to time. right, public domain and all. i've had it with blogs anyway, there's probably a new wave around. like twitterrific or something.
i cannot how imagine how someone would want to read blogs anyway. look at all the sordid photo whoring, the whining like this, the shrines to once own existence. look at the other hundred thousand youths with enough computers and free time to write. people like you and i. well, alright, some people write well. or about interesting things. that other people exist. that other people younger than you exist. other people like you with pretty legs and being in the sun in singapore, not like the weather isnt good here but there are no beaches.
i would, if i didn't somehow feel guilty about wasting time. i should just eat sleeping pills, of which there is a pack lying around somewhere. but it's such a waste, of this energy, i should be studying except that i've been half doing that all day. and i do not like pills. they frighten me. i wonder what happens if you chew them instead of swallow. part of me worries i have fatal familial insomnia, and how scary that would be, but i relax as i learn i am not 40 and it is only tonight. such irony, all that time wanting to sleep less and here it is i am in someone else's room not wanting to turn on the light or do anything and just wait for tomorrow to come. i have spent a lot of time waiting without a computer, i guess i could survive without it but i just spend so much time thinking blank thoughts.
i am thinking about boats racing on the thames. cambridge won. why? because i checked online.
sleep. i am envious of sleeping people. i should be studying, but i don't want to turn on the light to disturb equilibrium, no, i don't want to study. i have been half doing it all day, the other half a smorgasbord of prison break, cooking and wanting to exercise.
no inspiration to write. wikipedia and blogspot disabled. where will i get my ready supply of knowledge?
on the day you are a joyless, luckless individual. do you want to know how to write well, how to make people feel despondent? i learnt that trick when i was young. have many words, some which may not mean much at all, and put a less behind them. come, try it, repeat after me.
joyless, penniless, homeless, luckless, computerless, sleeplessness (i cheated, there was a ness in there, but it rhymes), motherless, fatherless, faithless, solace.
her profession is her religion, her sin is her lifelessness
as i sit and think, all i run up against is frustration.
my computer is down.
I can't sleep, but there is nothing to do when i can't sleep because i don't have my own computer, so i rely on little raids on Michelle's computer.
She is sleeping now.
My allowances aren't in yet.
My internship posting is left hanging.
I have to study for exams.
so there are 6 negative things hanging over me now, in the immediate present. is there a tense for that. ten-sion.
spring is here. i wonder whether chairman's read blogs. because my friend in the edb has his chairman looking around from time to time. right, public domain and all. i've had it with blogs anyway, there's probably a new wave around. like twitterrific or something.
i cannot how imagine how someone would want to read blogs anyway. look at all the sordid photo whoring, the whining like this, the shrines to once own existence. look at the other hundred thousand youths with enough computers and free time to write. people like you and i. well, alright, some people write well. or about interesting things. that other people exist. that other people younger than you exist. other people like you with pretty legs and being in the sun in singapore, not like the weather isnt good here but there are no beaches.
i would, if i didn't somehow feel guilty about wasting time. i should just eat sleeping pills, of which there is a pack lying around somewhere. but it's such a waste, of this energy, i should be studying except that i've been half doing that all day. and i do not like pills. they frighten me. i wonder what happens if you chew them instead of swallow. part of me worries i have fatal familial insomnia, and how scary that would be, but i relax as i learn i am not 40 and it is only tonight. such irony, all that time wanting to sleep less and here it is i am in someone else's room not wanting to turn on the light or do anything and just wait for tomorrow to come. i have spent a lot of time waiting without a computer, i guess i could survive without it but i just spend so much time thinking blank thoughts.
i am thinking about boats racing on the thames. cambridge won. why? because i checked online.
sleep. i am envious of sleeping people. i should be studying, but i don't want to turn on the light to disturb equilibrium, no, i don't want to study. i have been half doing it all day, the other half a smorgasbord of prison break, cooking and wanting to exercise.
no inspiration to write. wikipedia and blogspot disabled. where will i get my ready supply of knowledge?
on the day you are a joyless, luckless individual. do you want to know how to write well, how to make people feel despondent? i learnt that trick when i was young. have many words, some which may not mean much at all, and put a less behind them. come, try it, repeat after me.
joyless, penniless, homeless, luckless, computerless, sleeplessness (i cheated, there was a ness in there, but it rhymes), motherless, fatherless, faithless, solace.
her profession is her religion, her sin is her lifelessness
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