12/21/2006


the sassi of matera. we took three trains, pissed off michelle by running down the main street in naples only to catch a delayed train, had to stay the night over in bari. we were expecting a poor, impoverished town in basilicata, but it's much richer now. it's claim to fame are its sassi which are basically cave dwellings, and the fact that mel gibson filmed the passion of christ there because the entire town dows look like jerusalem. we went into a restaurant twice because we loved the way they cooked beans. enjoyed watching the local christmas fair and what teenagers do in a quiet town. they gather in the town square to talk to each other and eat gelato and down shots. it is the kind of town you improve your italian in, although i was amused to find a bunch of chinese merchants. also, hard to find atm, and don't hang around small italian towns on sundays, they close the train station and make it very hard for you to get out so that all of you have to fall on your knees and praise the lord.

it's set in a ravine.

our other favourite place is venice, but everyone knows about that.

murano is where they make glass. it looks like a nice retirement town. boats, water, colourful facades. if i'm not mistaken though, norwegian boating towns do look like that too and maybe a little prettier. if only we all spoke the local language.


shakira sounds like an electric guitar. also, i am starting to like bruch's concerto more than mendelssohn's.
let me start by an astute philosophical justification of travelling by michelle. it goes something like this (my recollection):

"i am here travelling to the most remote places precisely to get away from society. i quite enjoyed meeting the californian backpacker, but it wasn't fun anymore when i realised i had to entertain him. this whole notion of a traveller's community can just go to hell."

i like that, especially when you are really looking for that whisky advertisment moment, alone on a mountain somewhere or fishing in some remote ravine/village, or caught three trains to get to it. of course, when you're going to rome or something, you're bleeding asking for it, and travelling alone can get boring anyway.

and it's true, not reading fiction a long time makes you worry. reading generation x obviously never rings true anymore, it's so obviously wrong and juvenile, (oh we all hate tobias cause he's rich and sexy), but i'm also mostly obviously wrong and juvenile and much fun to laugh at myself. i need my weirdness back. i'd like to say that fiction is like santa claus, except that i have more faith in santa claus at the moment.

"why people are so lazy" it seems so obvious. usually, you get some form of reward for working hard. you get even more when you pack your days with activities, fun and laughter. so why do people sit around and choose to do nothing? fiction, love songs, and religion (and even those oh-so emotional moments when life does seem like a story with a beginning an end and countless chapters for forgiveness and revenge), they all need contemplation. that is why you shouldn't rush. that is why noisy churches don't work for me, everything is so obviously fake to me, that i need time to convince myself they are real. shakira is real, the tv says so.

there is more than one way to feel alive, thank you.

12/03/2006

oh my god almond thin crisps (spekkuk?) are the most addictive biscuits ever.
4 guys idea of a Saturday night out ended up in trocadero at piccadilly, because everywhere else is godforsakenly crowded on saturday night

i enjoyed it very much, because it ended up being a nostalgia trip on me. we took part in the veritable british institution, the trivia, albeit in arcade format. we had great fun pissing off a few brits, who must have thought, "those damn chinese kids." after we let them win a few rounds, we'd go in for the jackpot, and i'm sure it was all smiles at the end.

omg i miss cobratrivia and geog challenge etc... i love all these games lying around for people who have nothing much left in their lives but regurgitate all the useless knowledge that they had cause they surfed the net too often. that's me.

now i have enough tickets to get my girlfriend a nice prize.

11/20/2006

i highly recommend anyone who's suffering from depression or burnout a regimen of 12+ hours of sleep followed by random lazing around on the 3 square metre area that is your bed.

once you've had enough sleep, way more then you need, you will find out what i mean. because you're perpetually half asleep, it's like you're always in a dream. that's just fantastic because you can start conversations with people in the underworld. that was orpheus' secret.

in the underworld, you're constantly peppered with visions of what you've not done, and what you could do. you think you're talking to the devil, when it's just your conscience speaking. i'd think it was divine intervention but i somehow suspect god does not work through sleep, though he does work in mysterious ways.

in a dreamlike state you think things like "i need water" and you go out and get it and you go back to sleep. was that my handphone's low battery? ignoring it a few times, checking and realizing it was a message. checking a website. going back to sleep...and then the morning comes, it's all cold and rainy, and you decide to skip today's lecture because it will make it all better.

then you finally wake up, check your email to find out you've received some articles, that you've got an appointment with your personal tutor in 20 minutes which you arranged because you thought you'd be at the lecture, and suddenly what everything they said to you in the underworld makes sense. you've got things to do, and it's as if they told you beforehand how to get through the entire week, and you've finally got a plan, contingent on the fact that you're not supposed to turn around or eurydice will disappear forever. then the rush to school, and adrenaline takes care of the rest.

i've never felt so awake and ready for a week on monday morning. and the rest of you, never underestimate the power of sleep.

i dreamt another strange thing, or was told. it was that not everybody deserves love, because they occupy themselves with other things.

11/19/2006

i'm a christmas whore

i'm one of those who believe you should put up the christmas stuff waaay before christmas is ever remotely near. what's the use of spending all that money on baubles if you ain't gonna use it, besides, we sort of decided when christmas was supposed to be anyway, it was supposed to be in the dark dreary winter when we need as much artificial lighting we can get.

i think i have adjusted worse to the lack of lighting this year. after the adrenaline-filled essay week, i find myself sleeping more and more. not just that, when i wake up, i listen to christmas songs waiting for christmas to come.

scarily, a kid on my msn just changed his nick to "who's going to 3-6 with me tomorrow?" so a sec 1 kid i once taught is now sec 3. oh my god teaching has got to be the worst occupation ever imagine seeing batches and batches of kids graduating and chewing up the years until you can no longer distinguish the individual years. then you're truly old and you're truly fucked. (tongue in cheek guys/gals, i don't want letters to the forum defending your occupation. you know we all luv ya.)

11/15/2006

reading hume and rousseau, and wondering how things got as they are, i always wonder sometimes whether there is a point to civilization? why don't we simply submit to our dreams and our passions and our instincts. why all this guilt, chastisement, all these fetters of civilization and reason? why all my reverence of stoicism?

i came across this checking up stuff for the italy trip again... and about this history of rome, which rousseau speaks much of. it's a confusing amalgam of myth and history, and virgil has made aeneas out to be one of the forefathers of the roman empire (he did get a vision of its future greatness).

just like my favourite passage in alice of wonderland is the knight bidding alice goodbye, this is one i like from the aeneid. i told ms rachel tan one day that in my spare time, i wouldn't read greek literature, but hey, people change.

setting: venus got her son cupid (who happens to be aeneas's half brother) to shoot dido with some love arrows. dido falls madly enough with aeneas, and during a hunting expedition a storm drove them into a cave where they had sex (wow, what a convenient storm). but then aeneas has a destiny, as is typical of most greek heroes, and has to leave. dido, queen of carthage has burned herself at the pyre after the heartless bastard aeneas left for the fertile lands of italy. aeneas, being the clueless guy he was, had no idea that dido was that into him. aeneas finds an opening to the underworld at cumae in order to find his father's spirit and encounters the dead. there he runs into dido.

it's so nice because here was crazywoman dido who burnt herself at the stake for this fucker, and when she gets to meet him again in hell she is able to detach herself, see everything stoically, replies with silence and returns to her ex-husband sichaeus, who she broke her vow of fidelity too in making off with aeneas.

Not far from these Phoenician Dido stood,
Fresh from her wound, her bosom bath'd in blood;
Whom when the Trojan hero hardly knew,
Obscure in shades, and with a doubtful view,
(Doubtful as he who sees, thro' dusky night,
Or thinks he sees, the moon's uncertain light,)
With tears he first approach'd the sullen shade;
And, as his love inspir'd him, thus he said:
"Unhappy queen! then is the common breath
Of rumor true, in your reported death,
And I, alas! the cause? By Heav'n, I vow,
And all the pow'rs that rule the realms below,
Unwilling I forsook your friendly state,
Commanded by the gods, and forc'd by fate-
Those gods, that fate, whose unresisted might
Have sent me to these regions void of light,
Thro' the vast empire of eternal night.
Nor dar'd I to presume, that, press'd with grief,
My flight should urge you to this dire relief.
Stay, stay your steps, and listen to my vows:
'T is the last interview that fate allows!"
In vain he thus attempts her mind to move
With tears, and pray'rs, and late-repenting love.
Disdainfully she look'd; then turning round,
But fix'd her eyes unmov'd upon the ground,
And what he says and swears, regards no more
Than the deaf rocks, when the loud billows roar;
But whirl'd away, to shun his hateful sight,
Hid in the forest and the shades of night;
Then sought Sichaeus thro' the shady grove,
Who answer'd all her cares, and equal'd all her love.

11/09/2006

So i had an essay to do and micro 2 undone, and I went to go watch Jet anyway. I'm pretty pleased I went, they had fantastic stage presence. Great stamina, long set, and I liked the backdrop and setup.

I had lots of coffee recently, and it's surprising that once you don't have it for a long time it really can keep you up. Maybe it was also the adrenaline of reading up on kinda new, not so boring stuff (like the insanity defence), and of solving micro 2.

11/07/2006

sometimes i think, it's the girlfriend or jazz.

maybe it's because i'm have a little more to do this year, i haven't been able to kick back, stay awake till late and just listen to songs from my selection.

it's an inevitable sacrifice, but it was something i enjoyed. it gave me happiness. it was called smelling the flowers. it's a different thing now. but it's absurd to compare the two! then the question would be, which state would you choose. and i would choose this state, because it is my choice now.

sometimes though, jazz must have its revenge. this is one of those nights.
on my wall are pasted many photographs. photographs are misleading things, especially at one in the morning.

for example, one photograph has the rolling hills of wales in summer. what i would give to be on a hill in wales in summer on this cold night.

right before i went to wales, i thought, "i must get out. i must get out now". seeing photographs always make you think you can drop everything and find forever. that girl with the facebook photo, that place to visit. that's how i think, occasionally, anyway.

i'd like to say i'm happier because of that, that i've seen more places, for example, but the realization strikes you that photographs are forever, film is forever, but happiness isn't (duh), but i think it's actually let me down. i wish someone had explained to me what discipline was, what it did, what it was for, explained it in terms i understand, like i think i do now.

not in the 'monkish ascetic' sense of discipline bringing happiness, but the constant reminder it brings that wishing to be happy doesn't make me so. maybe i've let myself get too caught up, though i still find myself instinctly revolting at maxims such as "save more", be "financially secure". i try not to go into debt, but at the same time i can't kid myself, i save only to spend, and spending on finding that next happy place no less. i am blessed or cursed not to like drink, which means less money spent on that but less fun in social situations, had a previous (haven't smoked in a bit) weak spot for the comfort of cigarettes.

but yet i don't want to be a complete bore! just a partial one. but i'm pretty afraid of letting it all go to shit again.

11/06/2006

violence

need to blog for about 20 minutes
dumb microeconomics. dumb dumb dumb. it's so dumb they have help sessions for econometrics when micro 2 is the real problem. didn't take enough multivariable calc or real analysis? sucks to be you... sucks to be you... it makes me groan in defiance.

but then again it's not dumb because it's mathematical, its's just shit boring. everyone has cobb-douglas preferences, the answer to this guy's preferences builds on last weeks work, and when they don't have cobb-douglas preferences, they are some straight lines or leontief. can it really be this easy? GIVE US SOME REAL FUNCTIONS, THEN I WILL WORSHIP YOU.

warmth. breasts. water. sun.

there is always a temptation to live as if there were no tomorrow, which is strange, why we lose it as the number of tomorrow's gets scarcer and scarcer. so living like there's no tomorrow is more an acknowledgement that there are many tomorrows for you to waste. but it probably is a convex quadratic function of tomorrows and temptation.

11/05/2006

jesse's writings for make benefit of his friends

evil borat has started to make everyone speak like him, an evil testament to the insidious powers of comedy.

went for a guy fawkes celebration last night. i was left so unsatisfied. the fireworks were marvellous and lasted for a good half hour, and from the top of the hill at alexandra palace we could see fireworks simultaneously launched all over london (and all the way to canary wharf). still, i came to see effigies, and whereas last year i was in the company of dedicated pyros and arsonists, this year we were all good sweet fireworks lovers. all the same, there was a big funfair in the kitschy interiors of alexandra palace.

i will be spending the next few days working on my philosophy essay. the good thing, however, is that the specific topic does involve lots of reading on criminal law (specifically the insanity defence), so i won't be reading the same arguments over and over again. yay!

11/03/2006

it was date night tonight, which turned out very enjoyable, and very american=p.

the first chills of winter is coming and the clocks have been turned back. now we wait around to have our asses frozen off. still, though the sun is all but gone by 5 it's nice on friday evening to have no more meetings, no more work... for now.... for now....

went off to watch avenue q which i thought was delightfully irreverent, and comedy is so hard to write... pretty much stereotypical characters and almost predictable plot, but there were so many clever twists and turns inside... and i thought the way they wrote the lyrics was so contemporary. many many sharp comebacks and turns of phrase too. to complete the american evening, we went for peanut butter milkshakes and burgers at ed's accompanied by jukeboxes playing elvis presley while i was dressed in my 70's shirt.

it was also nice, given that i'm not longer staying south of the river, to walk down the strand and see the lights. it was so cold you could see the moon.

11/01/2006



i had no idea fran?oise hardy looked like that!

tous les gar?ons et les filles de mon age
se promenent dans la rue deux par deux
tous les gar?ons et les filles de mon age
savent bien ce que c'est d'atre heureux

et les yeux dans les yeux et la main dans la main
ils s'en vont amoureux sans peur du lendemain
oui mais moi, je vais seule par les rues, l'ame en peine
oui mais moi, je vais seule, car personne ne m'aime

mes jours comme mes nuits
sont en tous points pareils
sans joies et pleins d'ennuis
personne ne murmure "je t'aime" a mon oreille

tous les garsons et les filles de mon age
font ensemble des projets d'avenir
tous les garsons et les filles de mon age
savent tras bien ce qu'aimer veut dire

et les yeux dans les yeux et la main dans la main
ils s'en vont amoureux sans peur du lendemain
oui mais moi, je vais seule par les rues, l'ame en peine
oui mais moi, je vais seule, car personne ne m'aime

mes jours comme mes nuits
sont en tous points pareils
sans joies et pleins d'ennuis
oh! quand donc pour moi brillera le soleil?

comme les garsons et les filles de mon age
connatrais-je bienta't ce qu'est l'amour?
comme les garsons et les filles de mon age
je me demande quand viendra le jour

òu les yeux dans ses yeux et la main dans sa main
j'aurai le coeur heureux sans peur du lendemain
le jour ou je n'aurai plus du tout l'ame en peine
le jour ou moi aussi j'aurai quelqu'un qui m'aime

this is one of those "when will someone love me songs"
"all of the boys and girls my age are walking down the street 2 by 2"

10/29/2006

they know me so well

"I hope you are having a lovely weekend and enjoying some of the crisp, autumn weather. In case you feel like snuggling up with a nice, 600+ page book this evening, here are the questions for this week’s seminar."

10/24/2006

The same persons who cry down Logic will generally warn you against Political Economy. It is unfeeling, they will tell you. It recognises unpleasant facts. For my part, the most unfeeling thing I know of is the law of gravitation: it breaks the neck of the best and most amiable person without scruple, if he forgets for a single moment to give heed to it. The winds and waves too are very unfeeling. Would you advise those who go to sea to deny then winds and waves -- or to make use of them, and find the means of guarding against their dangers? My advice to you is to study the great writers on Political Economy, and hold firmly by whatever in them you find true; and depend on it that if you are not selfish or hard-hearted already, Political Economy will not make you so.
-- J.S. Mill

went for a lecture by dr charles bean today, director and chief economist of the bank of england, just to take notes, take photographs and generally cover the event so i'll be clued in as to what is going on and not be hoodwinked by my journalist.

professor pissarides stepped up to introduce him, and soon enough a woman got up and heckled something to the effect of "this is england, speak english". whyever she did so, i can't figure out. pissed off at economics professors? ultra-nationalist? couldn't here or over-hassled by ushers? an ex-mistress?

in any case, it was a pretty clear lecture replete with statistics and interesting indicators you wouldn't consider normally from your average macroeconomics course. not excessively complicated, mind you, but common sense indicators which go beyond interest rates etc. this is diagnostic economics, something like house (yes that crazy doctor), and what i think distinguishes economics today, an empirical approach to things from looking at data. that's why i don't like my macroeconomics principles course that much because there doesn't seem to be much necessarily stable or "principled" about the economy, you should always keep one eye on the data. and anyway, it is something like sach's recommended approach (to development economics) in "the end of poverty", where he suggests going around to the countries involved to collect data, understand more (kinda like talking to patients). it was interesting though, that i ran into a lady i met at summer school in beijing who's now very interested in development, and she got the impressions that charles bean had never been to china, and she was hoping more for some more insights in that regard. fair enough, but i guess his job is monetary policy in the uk (meaning he has to keep one eye on china as far as that affects inflation in the uk), but he doesn't claim it's his field of interest or expertise.

but what should i know right, i'm not an economist. but another person comes in and heckles and goes on about the voodoo banking multiplier and how all this debt hole think came about, that debt is sin etc. i must confess i was initially upset by the banking multiplier. and though the idea of money being printed by the government going straight into our pockets sounds neat and attractive, i guess people underestimate the importance of financial intermediaries in trying to push us back into the 17th century. it is difficult, though, i feel to argue with someone who doesn't try to take at least an empirical approach to data. i don't mean being able to quote statistics like "50 billion a year is wasted on... (and i didn't really get the rest of what he said)" or quoting abraham lincoln , i guess there has to be progress in the financial markets. and then i realise you need the theory to figure out that some concepts/principles are just wrong (given the world that we work with).

but the heckling made me think that some people, i think, are absolutely disgusted with economists. oh well.

also, this is another poem posted by my philosophy lecturer. yet again, a poem likes this sometimes makes me wonder if literature is not simply about weakness in all its forms, and is a desperate search by readers to find out if someone as terrible as them exists in this world. it is comforting, you know.

Why should not old men be mad?
Some have known a likely lad
That had a sound fly-fisher's wrist
Turn to a drunken journalist;
A girl that knew all Dante once
Live to bear children to a dunce;
A Helen of social welfare dream,
Climb on a wagonette to scream.
Some think it a matter of course that chance
Should starve good men and bad advance,
That if their neighbours figured plain,
As though upon a lighted screen,
No single story would they find
Of an unbroken happy mind,
A finish worthy of the start.
Young men know nothing of this sort,
Observant old men know it well;
And when they know what old books tell
And that no better can be had,
Know why an old man should be mad.


W.B Yeats

and you wonder if all these hopes you have for yourself will ever be achieved. yes, what happens to those who know all of dante?

in the end, no matter how much i claim not to believe in fate, i think deep down i must believe it. maybe it's my natural disposition, but i think sometimes that's the reason why people think i am cold/cool in certain situations, why i don't react more etc... i think sometimes that is what frustrates people most about me. i just have never had this feeling where i could control the world, and sometimes i take it too much as a given.

at the end of the term, i hope to go to italy. one of the stops will be venice, which used to be famous for the rialto and... jewish moneylenders. even in the 17th century they needed debt.

10/23/2006

i can't wait for guy fawkes day.

Remember, remember the fifth of November,
Gunpowder Treason and Plot,
I see no reason why gunpowder treason
should ever be forgot.
Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes,'twas his intent
to blow up the King and the Parliament.
Three score barrels of powder below,
Poor old England to overthrow:
By God's providence he was catch'd
With a dark lantern and burning match.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, make the bells ring.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, God save the King!
Hip hip hoorah!

A penny loaf to feed the Pope.
A farthing o' cheese to choke him.
A pint of beer to rinse it down.
A faggot of sticks to burn him.
Burn him in a tub of tar.
Burn him like a blazing star.
Burn his body from his head.
Then we'll say ol' Pope is dead.
Hip hip hoorah!
Hip hip hoorah!
bother. microeconomics again tonight. i spent an hour walking around london at night. it's rainy still so my breath forms mist. yay!

the lecturer did mention brighton in lectures today as part of an example on 'akrasia'. something about being able to deliberate both paths but showing an inherent bias in reasoning towards another (i.e. surfing in brighton vs going to a proper school i.e. lse).

but he has an interesting article about how people are akratic bums (let's use the word bohemian) but hanging around other akratic bums and being akratic is all right because it increases your self-image. i make it sound dumb but if you get a chance to read 'the revenge of akratic's anonymous' it's really quite a nice read.

i was always only human!


i was at brighton over the weekend and the highlight was probably touching the sea. the arcade was forgettable, although the oriental pleasure dome called the royal pavillion was unique and dare i say beautiful. last weekend i caught the goo goo dolls in action too.

i returned slightly sick due to the hefty breeze. whenever the cold front comes there's lots of rain and today london was typically drippy. i am also feeling slightly stressed by the great dosage of mathematics in my courses and i always sit down in dread to do my microeconomics tutorials because i have forgotten so much math over the summer. also, i volunteered to do a journal-type thing, which i think i told myself never to do again. but, in start-of-term enthusiasm, i must have raised my hands, so there you go. aiyah. i think i don't like stress, and i am convinved i hate it more than the average person, which means i need to be paid more to take on stress.

i also realise how difficult it is to talk to myself nowadays. i'm not used to it anymore. how. it really feels like a second year in london. i'm starting to wait for it to end.

i can't wait for guy fawkes day. i need to see things burn.

10/15/2006

settling down/finally have internet!



my bed is strewn with snakey the snake and crumpled duvet. the book on the right is microeconomics, left is calculus. in micro 2, the two are inseparable. highly annoying and technical.



fuck terrorist, tube maps, and my concealed bookcase. few posters of george best.
"all the bad days cannot erase the memories.



anfield and my stolen pulp fiction poster.



overcrowded desk and advertising space above...

10/05/2006

crash-coursing spanish in library now for a placement test and interview tomorrow. let me tell you about my sad sad life in london right now.

1. my computer crashed. in london, you can't just walk up to customer services in an "apple store" and get your computer repaired. no, you have to make an appointment. and you have to make an appointment somewhere in zone 3 at least an hour away from everything, unless you've subscribed to procare and pay some more money so you come first in a queue. so you try to take the train to brent cross and the northern line breaks down, so you have to take a bus. it's ok, i passed by abbey road where you can see the pedestrian crossing that the beatles put on their album cover.

2. i faxed about 8-9 forms over to get an internet account. finally got it settled after a week of faxing to and fro. credit checks, bureacracy and the ilk

3. house has some problem with hot water. sort of fixed.

4. girlfriend is homeless. as such she is temporarily staying over at my place. hard to settle down when she isn't settled down, and me and my roommate's stuff is strewn around.

5. timetable clash. outside option clashes with core. i would have loved to take the introductory philosophy course. but well, that fucked up, and they don't really solve lecture clashes here, so i asked for permission to take PH214, which is not too bad. deals mainly with ethics through reading aristotle, kant

my house is a little small. but it's in a nice area, and they opened a new mall, the brunswick, with waitrose (the local cold storage), starbucks, boots and all other sorts of franchises. it also has a cute little renoir cinema which shows indie films, and we managed to catch finally a film by the much-hyped almodovar, who is renowned for disgusting things like filming cleavages and toilet scenes. birthday was uneventful and spent stressing over administrative details. birthday was spent watching chuckle club. and, new place of last week = southall = indian food.