Word of the day: "schadenfreude"
On Googling.
Forced myself to sleep at 9pm last night, and I'm still dead exhausted the following day. There's really an interminable amount of work to be done today as well - largely because we're moving offices to another floor. Thankfully, I haven't been here long enough to accumulate the truly gargantuan amount of files and documents that some of my colleagues have - only about a couple of boxes worth for my part.
Was highly amused by the amount of administrative and mystical wrangling that went on during this process. We had to euchre a few warm bodies from the administrative department in order to assist in the moving of desks and cabinets. As for our own PCs - in the admin's head's own words: "Use your chairs as wheelbarrows"
Roight.
Also, when I said 'mystical' wrangling; I meant it literally - because a surprisingly large number of our staff were fairly avid fengshui devotees. Our department head had actually proposed the move to be on the 18th, for obvious reasons; and had hinted that he wanted us all to move at about 7-something in the morning due to various cosmological factors. Thankfully, common sense prevailed; which is why we're moving on Friday the 13th. However, a couple of my colleagues actually borrowed my watch because it had a compass attachment - in order to ascertain which way their desks should face. A few were suggesting lighting up incense, and one even half-jokingly proposed that we scatter a mix of rice grains, tea leaves and salt around the office. Our boss's table is directly facing the window, so when we talk to him, we have to squeeze ourselves into a narrow strip between his desk and the ceiling-to-floor glass pane.
As for me, I'm just going to follow that old custom of jumping over a fire when moving into a new house - I'll get someone to hold my lit lighter at the foot of the cubicle opening and lithely step over it.
Our new workspace is laid out in an incredibly hierarchical fashion. Previously, most of the mid-level team managers shared the same-sized cubicles as the rest of us exec grunts and clerks. Now, the managers actually have much larger partition/offices around the workspace periphery. The rest of us are huddled into a cubicle farm in the center; and each cubicle is approximately 20% smaller than our present ones. Upon beholding our new cells, me and my friend simultaneously broke out into a rendition of "In the Ghetto". On top of that, our uber-boss, who was previously located on another floor, is now in an office about six feet away from where I sit. Sweat broke out on my brow the first time I saw the seating plan, and actually seeing the close physical proxmity has made me realise just how precarious my present situation is.
(Another song that was running through my head.. "Sixteen tonnes.. whaddaya get? / Another year older and deeper in debt / St. Peter don't call me coz I can't go... / I owe my soul to the company store....")
On top of that, my immediate supervisor (who's one of the lucky managers with a periphery office), has a structural column smack in the middle of her partition. She stared at it impassively or a few moments, before noting that there's some space in the corner obscured by the column where we can hide from our bosses if necessary. Someone suggested setting up a mini-fridge there.
We also have a little library of our own now; a room crammed with periodicals and journals accumulated over the years. I suspect that it will be the new department rec-room. (Department games currently include a dartboard, a chess set, a Scrabble board, and a pack of cards)
Am going out to watch Die Another Day today - should be an amusing experience, even if I know I'll be irked by all the censored scenes. However, there's another fillip to tonight's plan - I have *no idea* who I'm going out with.
Two days ago, someone's name whom I didn't recognise flashed up on my mobile phone, and a vaguely familiar voice asked, "Eh, you wanna go watch the new James Bond movie this Wednesday? My friend's buying tickets now."
My mind occupied at the time (driving), I unthinkingly replied, "Sure."
Yesterday, I got an SMS saying - "We're watching the 8:45 show, see you at the box office at 8:30"
Now I have a problem, because I really have no idea who I've just agreed to go see that movie with (unfortunately, it was a male voice, so no hope there), and how I'm going to recognise that person (people?) when I get there. Nonetheless, that person *seemed* to know who I was (at least my name; what are the odds of accidentally dialling a wrong number of someone with exactly the same name as me..), so I'll just look around vaguely until someone waves at me.
In all honesty, I agreed to go more to figure out who the hell it was, as opposed to actually wanting to watch the movie.
My godsister, whom I haven't heard from in years, suddenly called me out for lunch because she wanted some advice on what to do now that she's finished her As. To be perfectly frank, I'm the *last* person I would go to for any practical or even reasonable advice about one's future, but for some obscene reason her parents actually think that I, as a young, socially-mobile(hah!), mature(hah! hah!), responsible(ran out of breath to "hah!" with) adult would be able to guide this tender young mind and steer her through the rocky road of university life.
Well, I can suggest a few techniques for fending off lecherous male pick-ups at clubs, I guess. ("I'd love to go back to a motel room with you! Do you mind if I take my syphilis medication first?")
Comments on recent entries:
That description of HCJC guys is TOTALLY ACCURATE. TOTALLY. COMPLETELY. UTTERLY. Some day I will regale stories about this colony of CHS-HCJC (frankly, is there a difference? For most of those bastards it's just a transition between levels, as opposed to actually changing institutions) engineering students I knew in Melbourne. I call it a colony because seven of them were living in a rather nice two-bedroom apartment, which had turned into a pit of absolute squalor after a year. None of them slept in the same place two nights in a row - because they would just drop supine onto one of the many sleeping bags and mattresses scattered all over the place when fatigue overtook them. There were enough PCs and laptops to start their own LAN cafe. Indeed, the place served as an impromptu network gaming arena which anyone was free to come in and play at anytime - I recall staying there for a couple of days once, and people would just walk in and out at all hours (doors perpetually unlocked) to take their turns playing Counter-Strike. Stacks of porno magazines and wuxia novels were everywhere. The television was constantly playing 'Super Sunday' or one of the few hundred episodes of Taiwanese variety shows in their massive collection. There were at least 80 or so empty bottles of assorted hard liquor on a large bookshelf as decoration.
Damn it, I miss university life.
Incidentally, they were *awfully* nice guys, and a couple of them were among my closest friends. It was really fun with those guys, given my own horrific standards of hygiene. Although the sticky doorknobs and vomit-stained ceiling (yes. CEILING) was a pushing it a tad, I admit.
In Western culture, people hate Jews because of the ancient Christian school of thought that persecutes them as the slayers of Jesus, not to mention a distaste for their insular, Chosen-People-style culture of superiority. It's a bit chicken and egg though, because their close-knit culture of shared ethos and shared religion was both a result of their persecution as well as a reason for it. Some have claimed that their general economic success (Goldman, Sachs, Morgan, Lynch, Rothschild...), is due to their culture of literacy and the extreme intellectual rigour their religion demands of their rabbis (Ever been to a Jewish seminary? Go watch "Keeping the Faith"; I'm told that even in extremely Orthodox ones, the thing about rabbis-in-training getting into badass intellectual, Talmudic gangfights in the library happens a lot). Of course, *all* religions demand extreme intellectual rigour of their priests, in the final analysis; just that, as Umberto Eco said, Moses encoded all the cool stuff in the Pentateuch (think Sefer Yesirah, notarikon, temurah, etc) and gave the Ten Commandments to the masses.
As to the new layout - it's *your* blog.
I wish I could capture every moment, really, on this blog. Because, as boring and mundane as each weary day is, there is always, *always* some little victory, some moment of perfect beauty that transfixes my heart with joy. Whether it's a cynical laugh, a cool drink, a good book, a shared moment, a fragment of joy, a shard of pain, a zhai idea, a piece of work completed, a concept learned, an idea realised, a truth attained - it was there, and it reminded me I was *alive*. And it is always the minor things. Always. The little thing that you don't think of a day or two later, but that held you, for that one instant, captivated, holding every aspect of your perception in its thrall.
And as much as I try to capture on this blog, so many more slip away. Sigh. But they were there; the little victories. And they are all that matters.
Blood Sword rocks! It is easily the most descriptive and well-written fantasy gamebook series of all time! I learned the words "onomastic", "proroguing", "scion", "psychopomp", and many, *many* others. I actually have three out of six Dragon Warriors sourcebooks, and could have acquired all three if I'd been a little less scrupulous and not returned them. Be that as it may, they were a pretty good, albeit seriously flawed system, which I enjoyed more for the world's complexity than for the gameplay mechanic.
Gabriel: I was telling your friend with the accent why the question: "What can change the nature of a man?" is such a compelling one for us. Your friend noted to me: "You seem to have more control."
*dizzying moment of flashback*
"..But you seem so much... calmer. More well-intentioned."
"I became that way, yes. Because for me..." His voice took on a strange echo. "It is *regret* that may change the nature of a man." He sighed. "But it was too late. I was already damned."
"I found that changing my nature was not enough. I needed more time, and I needed more life. So I came to the greatest of the Gray Sisters and asked her for a boon - to try and help me live long enough to rectify all the damage I had done. To make me immortal."
"And Ravel did. But when she first tested your immortality and killed you, you forgot everything. *Everything*" He looked broken at my words.
"And the Planes have been dying ever since. The crime is great, and the blame is mine."
*another dizzying moment of disjoint*
"As I spoke the language of the Uyo, the incarnation's eyes widened, and he stared at me. After a moment of silence, he replied in the same language.
(Only I know the language of the Uyo. How do you know it?)
(You are correct: you are the only one who knows the language of the Uyo. So if I know the language of the Uyo, I must be you.) He was silent, staring at me.
(It is these *others* who are not you, for they do not know the language of the Uyo.) He nodded... slowly.
(I hear you.)
(This place confuses one's perceptions - we are both you, and now we must become as one.) He looked frightened.
"I..." To my surprise, he reverted to normal speech... and all the inflections to his voice were gone. It was calm, level, and much like my own. "I... no longer wish to live like this."
"You no longer have to. You have suffered much. You were born into a world where nothing made sense, where strangers claimed they knew you, they blamed you for things you knew nothing of, and they tried to hurt you.. All the pain and worry and torment of your existence; I will wipe it away."
He looked at me - and I watched as the incarnation lost its mad gleam, and his eyes became more like my own.
"Yes..."
"I will protect you now. You will know peace. For that is all you ever wanted, isn't it?"
[Ed: I watched 'Keeping The Faith' twice. All I remember was that the book was very heavy. And, hey, Jesus was a Jew.
Why don't you let Sarinee scan your Dragon Warriors books too?
Which friend with the accent? I have many friends with accents. And the question is not compelling for me. It's just a damn good game.]
L'origine de Bert
Tuesday, December 10, 2002
Word of the Day: "disingenuous"
HAHA
"I need some help... what is that voting board place where people used to vote on RJC bitches, chio bus etc etc etc? I know it's called something something board but nothing comes to mind when I think about it now... anyone who knows... help... I am so damn bo liao now that I want to go and read it. Also, I realised that when you search for 'RJC chio bus' on Google, you get that chap's site like one million times... gssq... dunno what the hell his real name is, I just know that he's some screwed up GEP guy. (aren't we all.) Anyway, anyone who knows, tell me. I need to put up an 'RJC chio bus' page too then when people search for RJC chio bus they will find my site. It's quite funny because when you search for 'Bhavit Sheth' (my neighbour's name) you get my site too... Google is crazy shit man. I want to be able to write code like that man. So damn powerful. Zai sia. "
Of Despair Inc :-('s 2003 collection of Demotivational Posters, I think I like this the best:
Motivation
If a pretty poster and a cute saying are all it takes to motivate you, you probably have a very easy job. The kind robots will be doing soon.
This comes close:
Leaders
Leaders are like Eagles. We don't have either of them here.
HAHA
"I need some help... what is that voting board place where people used to vote on RJC bitches, chio bus etc etc etc? I know it's called something something board but nothing comes to mind when I think about it now... anyone who knows... help... I am so damn bo liao now that I want to go and read it. Also, I realised that when you search for 'RJC chio bus' on Google, you get that chap's site like one million times... gssq... dunno what the hell his real name is, I just know that he's some screwed up GEP guy. (aren't we all.) Anyway, anyone who knows, tell me. I need to put up an 'RJC chio bus' page too then when people search for RJC chio bus they will find my site. It's quite funny because when you search for 'Bhavit Sheth' (my neighbour's name) you get my site too... Google is crazy shit man. I want to be able to write code like that man. So damn powerful. Zai sia. "
Of Despair Inc :-('s 2003 collection of Demotivational Posters, I think I like this the best:
Motivation
If a pretty poster and a cute saying are all it takes to motivate you, you probably have a very easy job. The kind robots will be doing soon.
This comes close:
Leaders
Leaders are like Eagles. We don't have either of them here.
Post ID: 85782095
Monday, December 09, 2002
How cool! My new handle on this blog is simply - "The"! Not "The" anything. Just.. "The". Not an object, but an eternal pointer!
[Ed: An unfortunate result of the template using "Blog Author's Nickname" tag instead of "Blog Author's Name", and your nickname automatically being your first name. Rectified as of now.]
[Me: Ah.. once again I am.. compleat]
[Ed: An unfortunate result of the template using "Blog Author's Nickname" tag instead of "Blog Author's Name", and your nickname automatically being your first name. Rectified as of now.]
[Me: Ah.. once again I am.. compleat]
Post ID: 85684856
Word of the day: "flagellation"
It's 10:30, and I feel this strange burst of monstrous inspiration. Maybe it's because the whole day was spent in the throes of an emotional high (one of those inexplicable feats of serendipity that comes in the absence of travail, the right conjunction of hormonal and neurochemical balance, and seriously funny conversations), and traces of it are still lingering in my system.
First things first; to complete the now seriously overdue chronology from like yay-so-many weeks ago. If anyone wants a recap, the entry's here.
Saturday
Woke up with a peculiar absence of hangover headache. I was sprawled face down on a brown, chintzy sofa. As I got up to take in my surroundings, the familiar cry of the drunkard's morning resounded in my head: "Where the hell am I?" I was in some apartment; that was obvious. The layout had the blocky, utilitarian, cinderblock look of the HDB aesthetic. I slowly clambered to my feet, taking in the small TV in the corner, the pictures of various trance and house DJs plastering the wall; scattered muscial manuscripts and note sheets all over the place; several aromatherapy burners on the tiny coffee table, beanbags everywhere.. and the heavily used Yamaha piano in the corner. The windowshades were drawn, and I had a feeling that light was generally never permitted to enter this domicile from the outside; it was to be only internally generated from candles or a halogen light bulb.
Okay. I knew whose place this was now, even if I'd never visited before. But just how the hell did I end up here?
After clambering up to the kitchen to wash my face and procure some food(the stacks of dark-choc Tim-Tams and table water biscuits further confirmed the identity of my erstwhile host), I trudged back to the sofa, turned on the television, and quietly watched CNN for a while, eating from a can of button mushrooms.
Presently, the bedroom door opened, and A- trudged out. For those of you not in the know; A- is an old, *old* friend of mine, who deserves some mention here as my fellow basket case and one of my terribly few platonic female friends. Probably the only one I presently keep in regular touch with.
Some context into the nature of our friendship; we've stopped each other from suicide at least once each (ongoing "suicide prevention buddy" program), we had the same tuition teacher, and we only talk to each other about once a year.
A-: "Oh. You're awake. Do you want breakfast?"
Me: "No thanks.. I've already started in on your mushrooms."
A-: "Bloody hell - I wanted those for porridge. Nevermind. It's fine. Go ahead. Come into my house and eat my mushrooms. I don't give a shit." (She has a notably deadpan, monotonous voice.)
She then trudged into the kitchen, and emerged carrying a bowl of cereal in milk. I watched as she sat in her usual, preternaturally composed fashion on a beanbag, eating off the coffee table.
Me: "It's been a while."
A-: "Yes. What did I say the last time about CALLING in advance? Shit, you're damn lucky H- (her Teutonic lover) wasn't around."
Me: "How did I end up here?"
She did not seem perturbed by the question.
A-: "You called around 2am, ranting about how you needed a place to stay because your friend suddenly fucking tua-ed you and that he had to get up early the next morning. Or SOMETHING like that. I don't know lah. I didn't even know you were in town."
Awkward silence for a minute.
Me: "I *would* have called you and your brother out for lunch, you know. Just that this was a really sudden trip..."
A-: "Umm.. yeah. Nevermind."
Me: "This is a nice place though. Erm. Is it cheaper than the last place you were staying at?" (Interlude - she moves from apartment to apartment. Restlessly. Something compulsively pathological.)
A-: "Kind of; and an HDB doesn't have as many facilities lah. But at least the location is better."
Me: "So. What are you doing today?"
A- got up, and started playing Chopin's Etude on the piano. She's one of the best pianists I've ever known; if only she hadn't slit her wrists after she found out that her 36-hour, amphetamine-inspired piano-frenzy orgies had permanently damaged the tendons of her fingers. That messed up her chances to go to a good conservatoire abroad; which, unfortunately, assumes the dimenson of "just another tragedy" in her life, given her sordid familial and personal history.
A-: "Church. Around twelve." Despite everything, she still believes in God. I've never figured out why. She motioned to a clock hanging on the wall. It was 10:45. "So you'd better clear out by eleven thirty." She smiled thinly. "Next time call first, can? Wah lao, aren't you a bit sian of the calling up at middle of the night begging for a place to stay routine?"
Me: "I don't know.... I guess it's a habit leh."
I packed up quietly; made sure all my clothes and toiletries were in order (read: crammed into bag), and headed out the door. She still sat at the piano, playing. As I said, "Goodbye", she raised a hand, her eyes never leaving the piano, one-handedly moving over the keys, playing some peculiar little ditty of her own composition.
As I left, I noted, illuminated by the sunlight coming in from the main door, the faint tracery of scars on the wrist beneath her upraised hand.
When I emerged in the outside world, I spent a few minutes trying to figure out just which part of Singapore I was in. Managed to ascertain that I was somewhere in Hougang - well and good. I promptly took a cab back down to DBS, to try banking in the damaged cheque (which had, by now, more or less dried-out).
The DBS main office at Shenton was located below ground level. I estimate there must have been around 40 counters; and the ceiling was about two storeys high. All of this gave an impression of a massive vault, or an extremely brightly-lit crypt. I wondered idly if it was modelled after Gringnotts; certainly some of the tellers at the counter seemed to be of either goblin or kender pedigree, depending on whether they were sporting surly frowns, or perkily service-oriented smiles.
Noticed that in one of the large waiting areas, there was an old woman bleeding from some kind of gash in her arm, and a couple of frenzied bank officers trying to apply rudimentary first aid. She was bearing it stoically, her seamed features locked in Spartan impassivity; in a manner I've seen among the advanced of age. Maybe it's because their generation is inured to hardship; maybe because age has dulled their nerves' capacity to communicate pain - more likely some cultural inhibition from their time against calling too much attention to suffering; compared to our generation's habit of wearing all our pathetic emotional travails on our shirtsleeves like Boy Scout badges. I was reminded of how my great-aunt broke her hip once, in the bathroom, and tried to conceal it from her children whom she was living with for two days until the pain became unbearable.
Granted, though, I've known some pretty crotchety old bastards - like my grandfather's unremitting abuse of his entire extended family during the final phase of his life. Although he had advanced Alzheimer's disease as an excuse.
Fumed while interminably queuing for about 45 minutes. Good Lord, I'd forgotten how *irritating* it was to queue up for banking stuff, given that these days, after businessng hours, I just slip into the bank branch I was formerly working at and leave the appropriate forms and shit for my ex-colleagues to deal with the following day and SMS me the results. When I reached the teller, she stared askance at the damaged cheque, and said with a dubious tone, "I'm not sure if this cheque will go through."
"Nevermind. Bank it in anyway. No harm trying." After all, I just wanted to show my parents the deposit slip, which indicated that I'd done my filial duty by running their picayune errand. And anyhow, people are always prepared to believe the worst about the banking system's ineptitude, should the cheque be returned....
Also noted on the teller's desk that there were some stacks of entry forms with extremely badly coloured figures on the tellers' desk. Some junior savings account competition; nice to see that our financial institutions are promoting creativity amongst the fiscally underaged.
After that, I shunted back into the world of light, and made my way down to Borders - it was only about 11:45, and I didn't think that anyone would be free that early on a Saturday morning. So I went into Borders, and, once again, back to my element, surrounded by books - sometimes, during the all-too-common moments of suicidal frustration; there is nothing like walking into a bookstore to remind me just *why* I want to live forever.
There may be computer games, movies, anime, and blue cheese - but above all; there's *books*. Words. Carefully strung sentences; dry passages of complex ideas, rousing tales, subtle complexities, descriptions, metaphors, analogies, jokes, characters - in the final analysis, what is there in this wretched world that makes sense? There is only fiction, and everything else.
I called a couple of friends out for lunch around 2pm; after 3 hours of orgiastically reading. Kept my selections fairly niche this time round - was reading Vampire: The Masquerade sourcebooks:) Merely keeping in touch with the mythos.
One of my friends met me at Borders, and we gadded around for a while browsing through the non-fiction section. He had recently acquired a taste for popular science books; having read Dawkin's Blind Watchmaker and Selfish Gene, and was now onto some book called "Mortality, Morality". It was a rather outre little treatise on the physical causes of death; the exact physiological changes that occur in the human body upon death. The "morality" bit kicks in only in a few latter chapters; when the writer rather engagingly discusses the role of death in human moral philosophy.
I was looking for God's Debris; and I had a bit of a tricky time finding it. It wasn't in Philosophy, or Religion. Finally, me and my friend went down to the information counter, where a rather pimply assistant was staring fixatedly at his terminal. As we approached, he didn't even look up; so I politely inquired if he could assist me in finding the book.
He grunted in what I assumed to be assent, and continued vigorously tapping at his terminal. I was prepared to wait in Zen serenity (my tolerance level for bureaucratically pisspoor service has been callused after the experience of applying for passport renewals in Malaysian immigration), but my friend, a more impatient sort, said to me, loudly, with his drawling, typical-Malayalami tones, "This is the information desk, isn't it? I mean - we *are* here for information. Where's the information? Are you receiving any information?"
Malayalami accents have this way of conveying weary yet vitriolic sarcasm in a manner unmatched by any Asian race. Case study: Mahathir during his West-bashing interviews.(another footnote: Mahathir is half Indian by way of the distaff side)
Cheerfully playing along, I replied, "No idea. I'm certainly not getting any information my way."
After continuing in this vein for a few moments, the poor Borders assistant blurted out: "Just give me a moment, okay??"
A few more taps later, he guided us to the "Metaphysical Studies" section (which was pitifiully small, but looked surprisingly well-worn. Figures; people attracted to a topic like Metaphysical Studies are probably those who would spend hours browsing through obscure titiles like "The Wiccan Rede and Your Love Life" and "Broken God" without actually buying anything.). I was surprised to note that most of the books in this shelf were supernatural studies; ranging from the usual Charmed/Buffy-inspired love charm recipe books, to some volumes on the Rennes-les-Chateau mystery - although I didn't see Holy Blood, Holy Grail:)
Chortle-worthy quote: "Then he rang off. Slammed the phone down, presumably. Except that I think it was a mobile phone. How do you slam down a mobile phone? Angrily pressing the off button isn't as expressive, really."
Browsed through God's Debris, but hesitated momentarily at the rather high price for a very slim volume. Still, managed to extract a few pithy observations, and I agree totally with those who say it's a book whose value lies not in what it says, which contains a significant amount of what Scott Adams admits is blatant crap.But it's the kind of book that makes you makes you question the world you live in; as well as the fallacy of the many assumptions that one holds for granted as truths.
"The best any human can do is to pick a delusion that helps them get through the day..... At some level, we all suspect that other people don't believe their own religion any more than we believe ours....Everyone knows that the odds of picking the true religion -- if such a thing exists -- is nil."
"God is probability." (This makes sense, intuititively. If there is any higher power, probability - chaos - is it. Anyone who plays the lottery knows this.)
At around 2:30, our other friend arrived, and we adjourned to Burger King for a quick meal. Damn, I've missed the Mushroom Swiss Cheese burger; in Australia, the local "Burger King" is called "Hungry Jack's", and they put fucking BEETROOT in their burgers!
Proceeded to Kallang for a game of pool. Since there were three of us, and one of us was a pool fanatic who plays regularly, we soon decided that classic knock-out wasn't the way to go. Instead, it was proposed that we play Indonesian pool; a three-man version where you're supposed to defend your balls while potting the sets assigned to your opponents. However, even this got stale after a while, so we decided to play for cigarettes every frame. It got oddly fun, despite the occasional bout of self-mocking convict humour.
We then headed down to Holland V. to meet up a third compadre. On the way there, as we were turning in front of the KFC, we suddenly felt a vibration along the floor of the car. Suddenly, the guy driving shouted, "Fuck - check out the Ferrari in front!" As we all looked, then we noticed there were two - no, three - no, FOUR Ferraris in a row pulling in; and their vibrations in sync as they drove past were causing a mini sonic boom of sorts. Ah, the joys of wealth - no, must remember to cultivate zanshin and detachment from all worldly material desires..
Dinner was a fairly desultory affair, but after that, I headed out with one of them to Orchard Road, because he wanted to try out his new Sony Cybershot. Apparently he'd gotten the lens hacked, so that it could see through thin clothing when the IR filter was invoked. Unfortunately, it only appeared to work in bright daylight, as everyone still appeared disappointingly fully clad among us. However, we did have a jolly time taking photos of the Christmas decorations, trying to surreptitiously capture snapshots of chio girls passing by (yes, we have no life), and filming an urban-jungle indie tale of horror & self-loathing dubbed: "The Bleh Witch Plojek."
After some practicing to be Adam King, (does *anyone* , I mean, *anyone* comprehend this senseless ad campaign? He's not even real!), I headed off to meet another friend of mine. This next associate, is a flaxen-haired pretty boy, who is extremely amusing to go out with because I get to see a lot more chicks close up, due to them constantly turning their heads to check him out. By some odd genetic drift, he doesn't look Chinese, despite being ethnically pure Han, as well as being from HCJC, with all the attendant cheena-ness one would expect from an alumni of that noble JC. ("What the fuck is diamond diamond diamond???"). He actually looks partially Eurasian, an image dispelled as soon as he opens his mouth to exclaim: "Out of point leh!" His hair is almost auburn, despite using no dyeing.
I actually pity him, because he's a devout Christian, and also because he's so pretty no one takes him seriously, the poor sod. I remember once at this outing with some scholar caste types, he and I were tagging along as accessories. The conversation had God-knows-how veered into the topic of Cartesian philosophy, and when he chipped in with a Tomist argument straight from the Summa Theologica, a couple of the girls there and a guy visibly started with surprise, because he had been so silent all night. Very very amusing. Later on, one of the guys confessed to me in an aside that they had thought all his brains were in his fringe.
(For the record, he claims that he doesn't spend *hours* styling his locks, they just happen to fall around his chiselled features au naturel. RIGHT.)
We spent the first half of the night sitting at the bar in the Marriott Hotel, nursing some non-alcoholic "mocktails". Although he had inititally expressed a desire to 'cheong', that had rapidly faded, particularly as it transpired that it would only be the two of us. During the first half of the conversation, we discussed the usual; catching up on events, me providing him a lengthly lecture on the cheque-clearing and money-transit process (he asked, for some weird reason, and I indulged. "Since I was young I've always wondered how those banks cart money to and from the mint."), and amusedly noting the way Japanese girls in the lobby would turn their heads to survey him better.
After a while, we decided to exeunt for ice-cream. In his own words: "I crave ice-cream. I always give in to my cravings."
"Oh? And why is it you're still single and (by his own admission) a virgin?"
We slouched out, heading for Swensen's. However, the crowd outside was horribly long; so we did the next best thing - adjourning to CineLeisure. Was tempted to go watch he Returner, but couldn't find a decent time slot. (Me: "Come on, man, why do you need to see Takeshi on the big screen? Just gaze at the fucking mirror.") As we stood there, dithering, I asked him what to do?
He stared blankly back at me.
Me: "Okay. Here's my suggestion. You believe in God, right?"
Him: "Yeah..."
Me: "And I believe in chaos, or, more accurately, probability. Therefore, I say we flip a coin. Heads, we go order a bag of popcorn and have a few cigarettes outside CineLeisure. Tails, we try our luck elsewhere. Either way, this method conforms to our individual belief systems; you leaving in it God's hands, and me leaving it to probability... Now you flip. I can never catch the damn thing on the way down. Poor motor coordination lah."
It came out tails.
And so we traipsed back down the road, in search of ice-cream.... and to our joy, we noticed that the crowd at Swenesn's had somehow thinned trememndously. I was about to suggest flipping a coin again, to decide if we should interrupt our ongoing search or continue - when he screamed, "Fuck the coin lah! Take control of your destiny!" With such stirring words ringing in my head, we sat down, and ordered a Topless 5 each.
Incidentally, I noticed that Swensen's doesn't *have* the Topless 5 on the menu anymore; the waiters recognise it, but it's no longer listed as an option. I wonder why?
"For a skinny guy, you sure eat a lot of ice-cream."
As we ate, and conversed on a variety of topics, from reasons for believing in God, to economics, to movies, to the usual good-natured ranting about women, I pointed out. "You know. We really might give the impression of being some gay couple, the way we're bickering now." (It was a rather heated discussion about his avowed impossibility of finding a girl he's attracted to).
I continued. "Not that I mind too much, actually. Given my blatant lack of success with the opposite sex, at least as part of a gay couple I can say I snagged a looker in you. Although it's patently obvious which of us is the butch and which is the bitch."
He went on to moan and bitch about how the only girls who seemed to throw themselves at him were the skanky hos to which he had zero attraction. (Which might be largely true; when clubbing with him, the girls I've seen try to obviously flirt with him aren't too bad lookers, but he could probably do better. However, the really good-looking ones tend to be escorted or famously attached, which immediately dissuades him, given his moral persuasion).
I persisted, "But you've never thought of going for a girl you're attracted to? A really good looking one? I mean, fuck even if she has a boyfriend lah."
"I don't really work that way lor. And besides, what makes you think I haven't tried lah? And failed."
Ah, perhaps there is some moral justice in this world that even the good-looking bastards don't nail all the bitches. (In misogynistic mood today, for a variety of reasons. Blow me.) But then again, I think my friend is just too inhibited.
He added, "Do you think I wouldn't use whatever advantages I have if I was in a club and a girl I liked wasn't escorted? Please lah, I'm not a saint."
Riiight.
Anyway, we parted, as usual, on amicable terms, and he suggested that next time I crash at his hostel room in NUS. "For God's sake, man, it's a bit fucking scandalous to keep staying at women's houses lah." It's a suggestion I'll take him up on, when (not if), the next time comes around that I'm wandering the streets of the Lion City like a derelict.
Went for supper with tonight's friendly landlord (incidentally, the guy with whose digital camera we were playing with earlier). He's a very earthy chap who's seriously considering joining the PAP, but he's worried by rumours that they do *extensive* background checks.
In his exact words: "For how many years do I have to keep my computer free of porn? I mean, how far back does MHA's proxy servers store this kind of data?"
Me: "Don't know leh, but hard drives are cheap."
We were also discussing the moral ramifications of success. I mean, let us consider the Genting casino. That place, one of the most lucrative businesses in Malaysia (indeed, the Lim family is the single wealthiest family in Malaysia as a result), is arguably the ruination of many lives. But to what extent is it an immoral activity? I mean, people have a right to choose, don't they? No one coerces them to drive up the damn, landslide-prone mountain into Genting Highlands to blow a few thousand dollars at the blackjack table.
But on the other hand, the same can be said of liquor and tobacco companies.. as well as drug dealers.
As I told my friend, "To be honest, I'm reconciled to the fact that, if I ever become successful, it'll be by stepping on the bodies of a lot of people, whether it's my employees, competitors, or customers. But the sad thing is, I really don't care much. For me, it's just about making sure I don't screw my friends, and take care of my family. Everyone else.... everyone else is fair game. That's the way it is. It's either squeeze and exploit - or spend my life being squeezed and exploited - like in my damn job now."
"... the only certainty is that none of us will see Heaven..."
His opinion on whether we have it lucky or not: "Well, look at the guy who runs the Lee Foundation. I heard that his family were pretty rich back then - but their father made them eat porridge and salted eggs almost everyday. Apparently they donated more money to a school every year than they spent on their own family."
My retort: "Well, I know a girl who raked up about 15,000 pounds in credit card bills in a *month*. And her parents didn't notice because her mom regularly spends that much."
So where exactly do we stand? Difficult, difficult call. Sometimes I wonder just how motivated I am to get myself out of my rut; but then again, my life isn't that bad a rut, is it? I'm quite well taken care of; and I do have enough money to do *most* of what I want - buy computer games, watch movies, go for drinks. Most of my desires are met, barring extreme stuff like travelling all over the world at will or owning a Porsche.
But once in a while, I do feel this brief, incandescent hunger to *do better* than where I've ended up; to not be a wage slave in aeternam; to be able to afford my own damned bookstore some day.. .to be able to walk into a restaurant and not have to worry about the prices on the menu.
And there's not much else to say. I spent the night in his place; and the next morning I made the slow, interminable bus trip back to KL, and I'm back in work now, three weeks later, expression glazed, but mildly exultant because access to the blog and blogger seems to have been restored at work. Also, I haven't been sleeping well lately - only about 3-4 hours a day. Bad habit, due to some seriously long conversational time.
And the chronology ends there.
Okay. Moving on to brief snapshot of amusing events in the weeks that passed:
I lost my moccasins a few days ago. Was at a showroom bungalow with family, just checking it out, when, as we emerged from the house, I noticed that my moccasins had been replaced by exactly the same pair and make (Timberland brown), but it was a *visibly* older and tattier version. I put my feet in - it was the same size - but it felt *weird* - the sole was clearly shaped by someone else's foot, and there seeemed a lot of sand particles in it. ARGH.
Have been talking a lot to some old friends I haven't heard from in a while. It's funny how some things that happened at the time so completely passed your notice; the opportunities you missed and the - the chances you could have had. But when you loook back on it, in 20/20 hindsight, the only thing more glaring than the obviousness of what you missed is the certainty that you've forever lost your chance, that only shot at something approaching... I don't know? Happiness? Possibility? .. Whatever it is, it's all gone now.
Finally finished Mafia; am playing Arx Fatalis now. Am horribly behind on my game-playing schedule; I *must* finish up Arx Fatalis by this week if possible. Am prepared to defer eating, going out (no big loss there), and possibly taking a day off from work to get it squared away. Arx Fatalis - so far it seems like a great homage to Ultima Underworld (and, like the character in Ultima Underworld, your alter ego seems to get *hungry* all the damn time...) , the story's quite fascinating, and the magic system's well done. The graphic textures are surprisingly unique and varied for a world set entirely underground, and the monsters are pretty well-rendered (for some reason they reminded me of the creatures in the old game Azrael's Tear).
Movies watched - nothing much over the last few weeks, sadly enough. I don't know where all the time has frittered away to; but *very* little of it seemed to be spent on my preferred recreational activities. Most of it was on the usual time-wasting family obligations, and too much of it seemed spent in banal chatter online. I swear, I'm going to buy a new book after work today. Because I caught myself looking at my sister's Harry Potter books with some fascination; a sign that I need a literature hit *soon*.
Purchased Analyse That and Solaris; the latter an adapataion from a *great* Stanislaw Lem novel. Solaris is a horribly slow movie, by Steven Soderbergh (of Traffic and Erin Brockovich fame), but it speaks of the poignance of memory very well - and it has a beautiful theme floating throughout it of 'why not accept madness if it makes you happy?' Ultimately though, it's a bit of a hollow story, with virtually zero resolution, but it's a show I loved for the ideas it explores. In fact, I'm curious enough to see if I can dig up the 1972 Andrei Tarkovsky version.
Spent Hari Raya dozing at home, listlessly reorganising my archives. Was euchred into one Hari Raya open house; where I noted that the owner owned a lovely Jaguar XK8. Is such luxury halal?
My sister has come home. Have purloined her digital camera to take some shots of my office, as part of project to create a VRML site depicting my workplace. Yeah right:)
Most of my friends are coming back as well, this December. The chickens are coming home to roolicst.
A friend of mine got a scholarship to go to Russia to study medicine. I told her that she should've leaped at the opportunity. (To go to the Bolshoi Ballet! To visit the Hermitage! Side trips to Eastern Europe or the Caucasus!) Unfortunately her terribly myopic parents refused to let her go, citing fears of Chechen terrorism (seriously) as well as concern for the weather. Sigh.
Comments on the tracking. This batch has the usual weirdness and the usual cheehongness; so shall simply list and defer too much commentary:
"adidas sling bags big enough to put shoes and clothes in" - Get a Samsonite, friend
"eatmejusteatme" - Is this a pornographic exhortation or simply a reference to the blog?
"Taekwando + push ups" - Now I'd like to see some guy doing a push up and launching into some taekwando kick...
"vampire hunter d count meier pictures" - A very good, if rather bloodthirsty anime. Storywise is good but not great, but the animation has fantastic production values. The artist has done a collaborative feature with Neil Gaiman of Sandman fame - Dream Hunters
"soul reaver 2 transcript I see you for what you truly are now" - A Great game, and a great storyline. There IS a full transcript of cutscenes available on the Internet somewhere; at gamefaqs.com, I think
"pee girls web1000 " - Urine fetish?
"full metal panic ringtone" - Another good, nicely wacky, mecha-heavy anime, although I don't think the opening track makes a great ringtone - unlike, say, Gatekeepers 21's melancholy opening. Damn, am still slooooowly downloading episode 4 off fservs....
Something that made me laugh insanely over the last couple of weeks:
See, in China, I'm told by the New Guy at work (who studied Mandarin at Shanghai University for six months after graduating from University of Kentucky) that some hospitals there operate on such a shoestring budget, that one has to pay to purchase blood at a local blood bank, before the doctors can actually perform the necessary transfusion.
So my colleague was asking, "What the hell? Do you mean they like buy the packets of plasma at a gift shop downstairs, and then haul it upstairs to the operating room?"
"Yeah - imagine if you haven't got enough small change or credit cards on you at the time. Or, even worse, if you're a typical Chinaman and want to haggle over the price...."
(mimicking hilariously) "Urrrgggh.... aaggh.. ehh.. can borrow ten bucks or not... shit.. this sample not fresh.. got lumps in it..." "ehhh.. this sample wrong type lah.. can refund or not brother..." "aarrgghhh.. only one packet left... can split into two for me and my friend here..."
Also discovered that New Guy owned a Remington hunting rifle, a Mossberg 12-gauge shotgun, and a Colt 1911 pistol while studying abroad. He says he hasn't brought any of his guns back. His supervisor seems a little more chary of throwing him too heavy assignments now.
Comments on blog entries. Hm. Maybe I'll comment later. But just because we have Asperger's syndrome doesn't mean we have licence to run roughshod over the feelings of our friends, Gabriel. *Try* not to ruin everything by being yourself, hein?
It's 10:30, and I feel this strange burst of monstrous inspiration. Maybe it's because the whole day was spent in the throes of an emotional high (one of those inexplicable feats of serendipity that comes in the absence of travail, the right conjunction of hormonal and neurochemical balance, and seriously funny conversations), and traces of it are still lingering in my system.
First things first; to complete the now seriously overdue chronology from like yay-so-many weeks ago. If anyone wants a recap, the entry's here.
Saturday
Woke up with a peculiar absence of hangover headache. I was sprawled face down on a brown, chintzy sofa. As I got up to take in my surroundings, the familiar cry of the drunkard's morning resounded in my head: "Where the hell am I?" I was in some apartment; that was obvious. The layout had the blocky, utilitarian, cinderblock look of the HDB aesthetic. I slowly clambered to my feet, taking in the small TV in the corner, the pictures of various trance and house DJs plastering the wall; scattered muscial manuscripts and note sheets all over the place; several aromatherapy burners on the tiny coffee table, beanbags everywhere.. and the heavily used Yamaha piano in the corner. The windowshades were drawn, and I had a feeling that light was generally never permitted to enter this domicile from the outside; it was to be only internally generated from candles or a halogen light bulb.
Okay. I knew whose place this was now, even if I'd never visited before. But just how the hell did I end up here?
After clambering up to the kitchen to wash my face and procure some food(the stacks of dark-choc Tim-Tams and table water biscuits further confirmed the identity of my erstwhile host), I trudged back to the sofa, turned on the television, and quietly watched CNN for a while, eating from a can of button mushrooms.
Presently, the bedroom door opened, and A- trudged out. For those of you not in the know; A- is an old, *old* friend of mine, who deserves some mention here as my fellow basket case and one of my terribly few platonic female friends. Probably the only one I presently keep in regular touch with.
Some context into the nature of our friendship; we've stopped each other from suicide at least once each (ongoing "suicide prevention buddy" program), we had the same tuition teacher, and we only talk to each other about once a year.
A-: "Oh. You're awake. Do you want breakfast?"
Me: "No thanks.. I've already started in on your mushrooms."
A-: "Bloody hell - I wanted those for porridge. Nevermind. It's fine. Go ahead. Come into my house and eat my mushrooms. I don't give a shit." (She has a notably deadpan, monotonous voice.)
She then trudged into the kitchen, and emerged carrying a bowl of cereal in milk. I watched as she sat in her usual, preternaturally composed fashion on a beanbag, eating off the coffee table.
Me: "It's been a while."
A-: "Yes. What did I say the last time about CALLING in advance? Shit, you're damn lucky H- (her Teutonic lover) wasn't around."
Me: "How did I end up here?"
She did not seem perturbed by the question.
A-: "You called around 2am, ranting about how you needed a place to stay because your friend suddenly fucking tua-ed you and that he had to get up early the next morning. Or SOMETHING like that. I don't know lah. I didn't even know you were in town."
Awkward silence for a minute.
Me: "I *would* have called you and your brother out for lunch, you know. Just that this was a really sudden trip..."
A-: "Umm.. yeah. Nevermind."
Me: "This is a nice place though. Erm. Is it cheaper than the last place you were staying at?" (Interlude - she moves from apartment to apartment. Restlessly. Something compulsively pathological.)
A-: "Kind of; and an HDB doesn't have as many facilities lah. But at least the location is better."
Me: "So. What are you doing today?"
A- got up, and started playing Chopin's Etude on the piano. She's one of the best pianists I've ever known; if only she hadn't slit her wrists after she found out that her 36-hour, amphetamine-inspired piano-frenzy orgies had permanently damaged the tendons of her fingers. That messed up her chances to go to a good conservatoire abroad; which, unfortunately, assumes the dimenson of "just another tragedy" in her life, given her sordid familial and personal history.
A-: "Church. Around twelve." Despite everything, she still believes in God. I've never figured out why. She motioned to a clock hanging on the wall. It was 10:45. "So you'd better clear out by eleven thirty." She smiled thinly. "Next time call first, can? Wah lao, aren't you a bit sian of the calling up at middle of the night begging for a place to stay routine?"
Me: "I don't know.... I guess it's a habit leh."
I packed up quietly; made sure all my clothes and toiletries were in order (read: crammed into bag), and headed out the door. She still sat at the piano, playing. As I said, "Goodbye", she raised a hand, her eyes never leaving the piano, one-handedly moving over the keys, playing some peculiar little ditty of her own composition.
As I left, I noted, illuminated by the sunlight coming in from the main door, the faint tracery of scars on the wrist beneath her upraised hand.
When I emerged in the outside world, I spent a few minutes trying to figure out just which part of Singapore I was in. Managed to ascertain that I was somewhere in Hougang - well and good. I promptly took a cab back down to DBS, to try banking in the damaged cheque (which had, by now, more or less dried-out).
The DBS main office at Shenton was located below ground level. I estimate there must have been around 40 counters; and the ceiling was about two storeys high. All of this gave an impression of a massive vault, or an extremely brightly-lit crypt. I wondered idly if it was modelled after Gringnotts; certainly some of the tellers at the counter seemed to be of either goblin or kender pedigree, depending on whether they were sporting surly frowns, or perkily service-oriented smiles.
Noticed that in one of the large waiting areas, there was an old woman bleeding from some kind of gash in her arm, and a couple of frenzied bank officers trying to apply rudimentary first aid. She was bearing it stoically, her seamed features locked in Spartan impassivity; in a manner I've seen among the advanced of age. Maybe it's because their generation is inured to hardship; maybe because age has dulled their nerves' capacity to communicate pain - more likely some cultural inhibition from their time against calling too much attention to suffering; compared to our generation's habit of wearing all our pathetic emotional travails on our shirtsleeves like Boy Scout badges. I was reminded of how my great-aunt broke her hip once, in the bathroom, and tried to conceal it from her children whom she was living with for two days until the pain became unbearable.
Granted, though, I've known some pretty crotchety old bastards - like my grandfather's unremitting abuse of his entire extended family during the final phase of his life. Although he had advanced Alzheimer's disease as an excuse.
Fumed while interminably queuing for about 45 minutes. Good Lord, I'd forgotten how *irritating* it was to queue up for banking stuff, given that these days, after businessng hours, I just slip into the bank branch I was formerly working at and leave the appropriate forms and shit for my ex-colleagues to deal with the following day and SMS me the results. When I reached the teller, she stared askance at the damaged cheque, and said with a dubious tone, "I'm not sure if this cheque will go through."
"Nevermind. Bank it in anyway. No harm trying." After all, I just wanted to show my parents the deposit slip, which indicated that I'd done my filial duty by running their picayune errand. And anyhow, people are always prepared to believe the worst about the banking system's ineptitude, should the cheque be returned....
Also noted on the teller's desk that there were some stacks of entry forms with extremely badly coloured figures on the tellers' desk. Some junior savings account competition; nice to see that our financial institutions are promoting creativity amongst the fiscally underaged.
After that, I shunted back into the world of light, and made my way down to Borders - it was only about 11:45, and I didn't think that anyone would be free that early on a Saturday morning. So I went into Borders, and, once again, back to my element, surrounded by books - sometimes, during the all-too-common moments of suicidal frustration; there is nothing like walking into a bookstore to remind me just *why* I want to live forever.
There may be computer games, movies, anime, and blue cheese - but above all; there's *books*. Words. Carefully strung sentences; dry passages of complex ideas, rousing tales, subtle complexities, descriptions, metaphors, analogies, jokes, characters - in the final analysis, what is there in this wretched world that makes sense? There is only fiction, and everything else.
I called a couple of friends out for lunch around 2pm; after 3 hours of orgiastically reading. Kept my selections fairly niche this time round - was reading Vampire: The Masquerade sourcebooks:) Merely keeping in touch with the mythos.
One of my friends met me at Borders, and we gadded around for a while browsing through the non-fiction section. He had recently acquired a taste for popular science books; having read Dawkin's Blind Watchmaker and Selfish Gene, and was now onto some book called "Mortality, Morality". It was a rather outre little treatise on the physical causes of death; the exact physiological changes that occur in the human body upon death. The "morality" bit kicks in only in a few latter chapters; when the writer rather engagingly discusses the role of death in human moral philosophy.
I was looking for God's Debris; and I had a bit of a tricky time finding it. It wasn't in Philosophy, or Religion. Finally, me and my friend went down to the information counter, where a rather pimply assistant was staring fixatedly at his terminal. As we approached, he didn't even look up; so I politely inquired if he could assist me in finding the book.
He grunted in what I assumed to be assent, and continued vigorously tapping at his terminal. I was prepared to wait in Zen serenity (my tolerance level for bureaucratically pisspoor service has been callused after the experience of applying for passport renewals in Malaysian immigration), but my friend, a more impatient sort, said to me, loudly, with his drawling, typical-Malayalami tones, "This is the information desk, isn't it? I mean - we *are* here for information. Where's the information? Are you receiving any information?"
Malayalami accents have this way of conveying weary yet vitriolic sarcasm in a manner unmatched by any Asian race. Case study: Mahathir during his West-bashing interviews.(another footnote: Mahathir is half Indian by way of the distaff side)
Cheerfully playing along, I replied, "No idea. I'm certainly not getting any information my way."
After continuing in this vein for a few moments, the poor Borders assistant blurted out: "Just give me a moment, okay??"
A few more taps later, he guided us to the "Metaphysical Studies" section (which was pitifiully small, but looked surprisingly well-worn. Figures; people attracted to a topic like Metaphysical Studies are probably those who would spend hours browsing through obscure titiles like "The Wiccan Rede and Your Love Life" and "Broken God" without actually buying anything.). I was surprised to note that most of the books in this shelf were supernatural studies; ranging from the usual Charmed/Buffy-inspired love charm recipe books, to some volumes on the Rennes-les-Chateau mystery - although I didn't see Holy Blood, Holy Grail:)
Chortle-worthy quote: "Then he rang off. Slammed the phone down, presumably. Except that I think it was a mobile phone. How do you slam down a mobile phone? Angrily pressing the off button isn't as expressive, really."
Browsed through God's Debris, but hesitated momentarily at the rather high price for a very slim volume. Still, managed to extract a few pithy observations, and I agree totally with those who say it's a book whose value lies not in what it says, which contains a significant amount of what Scott Adams admits is blatant crap.But it's the kind of book that makes you makes you question the world you live in; as well as the fallacy of the many assumptions that one holds for granted as truths.
"The best any human can do is to pick a delusion that helps them get through the day..... At some level, we all suspect that other people don't believe their own religion any more than we believe ours....Everyone knows that the odds of picking the true religion -- if such a thing exists -- is nil."
"God is probability." (This makes sense, intuititively. If there is any higher power, probability - chaos - is it. Anyone who plays the lottery knows this.)
At around 2:30, our other friend arrived, and we adjourned to Burger King for a quick meal. Damn, I've missed the Mushroom Swiss Cheese burger; in Australia, the local "Burger King" is called "Hungry Jack's", and they put fucking BEETROOT in their burgers!
Proceeded to Kallang for a game of pool. Since there were three of us, and one of us was a pool fanatic who plays regularly, we soon decided that classic knock-out wasn't the way to go. Instead, it was proposed that we play Indonesian pool; a three-man version where you're supposed to defend your balls while potting the sets assigned to your opponents. However, even this got stale after a while, so we decided to play for cigarettes every frame. It got oddly fun, despite the occasional bout of self-mocking convict humour.
We then headed down to Holland V. to meet up a third compadre. On the way there, as we were turning in front of the KFC, we suddenly felt a vibration along the floor of the car. Suddenly, the guy driving shouted, "Fuck - check out the Ferrari in front!" As we all looked, then we noticed there were two - no, three - no, FOUR Ferraris in a row pulling in; and their vibrations in sync as they drove past were causing a mini sonic boom of sorts. Ah, the joys of wealth - no, must remember to cultivate zanshin and detachment from all worldly material desires..
Dinner was a fairly desultory affair, but after that, I headed out with one of them to Orchard Road, because he wanted to try out his new Sony Cybershot. Apparently he'd gotten the lens hacked, so that it could see through thin clothing when the IR filter was invoked. Unfortunately, it only appeared to work in bright daylight, as everyone still appeared disappointingly fully clad among us. However, we did have a jolly time taking photos of the Christmas decorations, trying to surreptitiously capture snapshots of chio girls passing by (yes, we have no life), and filming an urban-jungle indie tale of horror & self-loathing dubbed: "The Bleh Witch Plojek."
After some practicing to be Adam King, (does *anyone* , I mean, *anyone* comprehend this senseless ad campaign? He's not even real!), I headed off to meet another friend of mine. This next associate, is a flaxen-haired pretty boy, who is extremely amusing to go out with because I get to see a lot more chicks close up, due to them constantly turning their heads to check him out. By some odd genetic drift, he doesn't look Chinese, despite being ethnically pure Han, as well as being from HCJC, with all the attendant cheena-ness one would expect from an alumni of that noble JC. ("What the fuck is diamond diamond diamond???"). He actually looks partially Eurasian, an image dispelled as soon as he opens his mouth to exclaim: "Out of point leh!" His hair is almost auburn, despite using no dyeing.
I actually pity him, because he's a devout Christian, and also because he's so pretty no one takes him seriously, the poor sod. I remember once at this outing with some scholar caste types, he and I were tagging along as accessories. The conversation had God-knows-how veered into the topic of Cartesian philosophy, and when he chipped in with a Tomist argument straight from the Summa Theologica, a couple of the girls there and a guy visibly started with surprise, because he had been so silent all night. Very very amusing. Later on, one of the guys confessed to me in an aside that they had thought all his brains were in his fringe.
(For the record, he claims that he doesn't spend *hours* styling his locks, they just happen to fall around his chiselled features au naturel. RIGHT.)
We spent the first half of the night sitting at the bar in the Marriott Hotel, nursing some non-alcoholic "mocktails". Although he had inititally expressed a desire to 'cheong', that had rapidly faded, particularly as it transpired that it would only be the two of us. During the first half of the conversation, we discussed the usual; catching up on events, me providing him a lengthly lecture on the cheque-clearing and money-transit process (he asked, for some weird reason, and I indulged. "Since I was young I've always wondered how those banks cart money to and from the mint."), and amusedly noting the way Japanese girls in the lobby would turn their heads to survey him better.
After a while, we decided to exeunt for ice-cream. In his own words: "I crave ice-cream. I always give in to my cravings."
"Oh? And why is it you're still single and (by his own admission) a virgin?"
We slouched out, heading for Swensen's. However, the crowd outside was horribly long; so we did the next best thing - adjourning to CineLeisure. Was tempted to go watch he Returner, but couldn't find a decent time slot. (Me: "Come on, man, why do you need to see Takeshi on the big screen? Just gaze at the fucking mirror.") As we stood there, dithering, I asked him what to do?
He stared blankly back at me.
Me: "Okay. Here's my suggestion. You believe in God, right?"
Him: "Yeah..."
Me: "And I believe in chaos, or, more accurately, probability. Therefore, I say we flip a coin. Heads, we go order a bag of popcorn and have a few cigarettes outside CineLeisure. Tails, we try our luck elsewhere. Either way, this method conforms to our individual belief systems; you leaving in it God's hands, and me leaving it to probability... Now you flip. I can never catch the damn thing on the way down. Poor motor coordination lah."
It came out tails.
And so we traipsed back down the road, in search of ice-cream.... and to our joy, we noticed that the crowd at Swenesn's had somehow thinned trememndously. I was about to suggest flipping a coin again, to decide if we should interrupt our ongoing search or continue - when he screamed, "Fuck the coin lah! Take control of your destiny!" With such stirring words ringing in my head, we sat down, and ordered a Topless 5 each.
Incidentally, I noticed that Swensen's doesn't *have* the Topless 5 on the menu anymore; the waiters recognise it, but it's no longer listed as an option. I wonder why?
"For a skinny guy, you sure eat a lot of ice-cream."
As we ate, and conversed on a variety of topics, from reasons for believing in God, to economics, to movies, to the usual good-natured ranting about women, I pointed out. "You know. We really might give the impression of being some gay couple, the way we're bickering now." (It was a rather heated discussion about his avowed impossibility of finding a girl he's attracted to).
I continued. "Not that I mind too much, actually. Given my blatant lack of success with the opposite sex, at least as part of a gay couple I can say I snagged a looker in you. Although it's patently obvious which of us is the butch and which is the bitch."
He went on to moan and bitch about how the only girls who seemed to throw themselves at him were the skanky hos to which he had zero attraction. (Which might be largely true; when clubbing with him, the girls I've seen try to obviously flirt with him aren't too bad lookers, but he could probably do better. However, the really good-looking ones tend to be escorted or famously attached, which immediately dissuades him, given his moral persuasion).
I persisted, "But you've never thought of going for a girl you're attracted to? A really good looking one? I mean, fuck even if she has a boyfriend lah."
"I don't really work that way lor. And besides, what makes you think I haven't tried lah? And failed."
Ah, perhaps there is some moral justice in this world that even the good-looking bastards don't nail all the bitches. (In misogynistic mood today, for a variety of reasons. Blow me.) But then again, I think my friend is just too inhibited.
He added, "Do you think I wouldn't use whatever advantages I have if I was in a club and a girl I liked wasn't escorted? Please lah, I'm not a saint."
Riiight.
Anyway, we parted, as usual, on amicable terms, and he suggested that next time I crash at his hostel room in NUS. "For God's sake, man, it's a bit fucking scandalous to keep staying at women's houses lah." It's a suggestion I'll take him up on, when (not if), the next time comes around that I'm wandering the streets of the Lion City like a derelict.
Went for supper with tonight's friendly landlord (incidentally, the guy with whose digital camera we were playing with earlier). He's a very earthy chap who's seriously considering joining the PAP, but he's worried by rumours that they do *extensive* background checks.
In his exact words: "For how many years do I have to keep my computer free of porn? I mean, how far back does MHA's proxy servers store this kind of data?"
Me: "Don't know leh, but hard drives are cheap."
We were also discussing the moral ramifications of success. I mean, let us consider the Genting casino. That place, one of the most lucrative businesses in Malaysia (indeed, the Lim family is the single wealthiest family in Malaysia as a result), is arguably the ruination of many lives. But to what extent is it an immoral activity? I mean, people have a right to choose, don't they? No one coerces them to drive up the damn, landslide-prone mountain into Genting Highlands to blow a few thousand dollars at the blackjack table.
But on the other hand, the same can be said of liquor and tobacco companies.. as well as drug dealers.
As I told my friend, "To be honest, I'm reconciled to the fact that, if I ever become successful, it'll be by stepping on the bodies of a lot of people, whether it's my employees, competitors, or customers. But the sad thing is, I really don't care much. For me, it's just about making sure I don't screw my friends, and take care of my family. Everyone else.... everyone else is fair game. That's the way it is. It's either squeeze and exploit - or spend my life being squeezed and exploited - like in my damn job now."
"... the only certainty is that none of us will see Heaven..."
His opinion on whether we have it lucky or not: "Well, look at the guy who runs the Lee Foundation. I heard that his family were pretty rich back then - but their father made them eat porridge and salted eggs almost everyday. Apparently they donated more money to a school every year than they spent on their own family."
My retort: "Well, I know a girl who raked up about 15,000 pounds in credit card bills in a *month*. And her parents didn't notice because her mom regularly spends that much."
So where exactly do we stand? Difficult, difficult call. Sometimes I wonder just how motivated I am to get myself out of my rut; but then again, my life isn't that bad a rut, is it? I'm quite well taken care of; and I do have enough money to do *most* of what I want - buy computer games, watch movies, go for drinks. Most of my desires are met, barring extreme stuff like travelling all over the world at will or owning a Porsche.
But once in a while, I do feel this brief, incandescent hunger to *do better* than where I've ended up; to not be a wage slave in aeternam; to be able to afford my own damned bookstore some day.. .to be able to walk into a restaurant and not have to worry about the prices on the menu.
And there's not much else to say. I spent the night in his place; and the next morning I made the slow, interminable bus trip back to KL, and I'm back in work now, three weeks later, expression glazed, but mildly exultant because access to the blog and blogger seems to have been restored at work. Also, I haven't been sleeping well lately - only about 3-4 hours a day. Bad habit, due to some seriously long conversational time.
And the chronology ends there.
Okay. Moving on to brief snapshot of amusing events in the weeks that passed:
I lost my moccasins a few days ago. Was at a showroom bungalow with family, just checking it out, when, as we emerged from the house, I noticed that my moccasins had been replaced by exactly the same pair and make (Timberland brown), but it was a *visibly* older and tattier version. I put my feet in - it was the same size - but it felt *weird* - the sole was clearly shaped by someone else's foot, and there seeemed a lot of sand particles in it. ARGH.
Have been talking a lot to some old friends I haven't heard from in a while. It's funny how some things that happened at the time so completely passed your notice; the opportunities you missed and the - the chances you could have had. But when you loook back on it, in 20/20 hindsight, the only thing more glaring than the obviousness of what you missed is the certainty that you've forever lost your chance, that only shot at something approaching... I don't know? Happiness? Possibility? .. Whatever it is, it's all gone now.
Finally finished Mafia; am playing Arx Fatalis now. Am horribly behind on my game-playing schedule; I *must* finish up Arx Fatalis by this week if possible. Am prepared to defer eating, going out (no big loss there), and possibly taking a day off from work to get it squared away. Arx Fatalis - so far it seems like a great homage to Ultima Underworld (and, like the character in Ultima Underworld, your alter ego seems to get *hungry* all the damn time...) , the story's quite fascinating, and the magic system's well done. The graphic textures are surprisingly unique and varied for a world set entirely underground, and the monsters are pretty well-rendered (for some reason they reminded me of the creatures in the old game Azrael's Tear).
Movies watched - nothing much over the last few weeks, sadly enough. I don't know where all the time has frittered away to; but *very* little of it seemed to be spent on my preferred recreational activities. Most of it was on the usual time-wasting family obligations, and too much of it seemed spent in banal chatter online. I swear, I'm going to buy a new book after work today. Because I caught myself looking at my sister's Harry Potter books with some fascination; a sign that I need a literature hit *soon*.
Purchased Analyse That and Solaris; the latter an adapataion from a *great* Stanislaw Lem novel. Solaris is a horribly slow movie, by Steven Soderbergh (of Traffic and Erin Brockovich fame), but it speaks of the poignance of memory very well - and it has a beautiful theme floating throughout it of 'why not accept madness if it makes you happy?' Ultimately though, it's a bit of a hollow story, with virtually zero resolution, but it's a show I loved for the ideas it explores. In fact, I'm curious enough to see if I can dig up the 1972 Andrei Tarkovsky version.
Spent Hari Raya dozing at home, listlessly reorganising my archives. Was euchred into one Hari Raya open house; where I noted that the owner owned a lovely Jaguar XK8. Is such luxury halal?
My sister has come home. Have purloined her digital camera to take some shots of my office, as part of project to create a VRML site depicting my workplace. Yeah right:)
Most of my friends are coming back as well, this December. The chickens are coming home to roolicst.
A friend of mine got a scholarship to go to Russia to study medicine. I told her that she should've leaped at the opportunity. (To go to the Bolshoi Ballet! To visit the Hermitage! Side trips to Eastern Europe or the Caucasus!) Unfortunately her terribly myopic parents refused to let her go, citing fears of Chechen terrorism (seriously) as well as concern for the weather. Sigh.
Comments on the tracking. This batch has the usual weirdness and the usual cheehongness; so shall simply list and defer too much commentary:
"adidas sling bags big enough to put shoes and clothes in" - Get a Samsonite, friend
"eatmejusteatme" - Is this a pornographic exhortation or simply a reference to the blog?
"Taekwando + push ups" - Now I'd like to see some guy doing a push up and launching into some taekwando kick...
"vampire hunter d count meier pictures" - A very good, if rather bloodthirsty anime. Storywise is good but not great, but the animation has fantastic production values. The artist has done a collaborative feature with Neil Gaiman of Sandman fame - Dream Hunters
"soul reaver 2 transcript I see you for what you truly are now" - A Great game, and a great storyline. There IS a full transcript of cutscenes available on the Internet somewhere; at gamefaqs.com, I think
"pee girls web1000 " - Urine fetish?
"full metal panic ringtone" - Another good, nicely wacky, mecha-heavy anime, although I don't think the opening track makes a great ringtone - unlike, say, Gatekeepers 21's melancholy opening. Damn, am still slooooowly downloading episode 4 off fservs....
Something that made me laugh insanely over the last couple of weeks:
See, in China, I'm told by the New Guy at work (who studied Mandarin at Shanghai University for six months after graduating from University of Kentucky) that some hospitals there operate on such a shoestring budget, that one has to pay to purchase blood at a local blood bank, before the doctors can actually perform the necessary transfusion.
So my colleague was asking, "What the hell? Do you mean they like buy the packets of plasma at a gift shop downstairs, and then haul it upstairs to the operating room?"
"Yeah - imagine if you haven't got enough small change or credit cards on you at the time. Or, even worse, if you're a typical Chinaman and want to haggle over the price...."
(mimicking hilariously) "Urrrgggh.... aaggh.. ehh.. can borrow ten bucks or not... shit.. this sample not fresh.. got lumps in it..." "ehhh.. this sample wrong type lah.. can refund or not brother..." "aarrgghhh.. only one packet left... can split into two for me and my friend here..."
Also discovered that New Guy owned a Remington hunting rifle, a Mossberg 12-gauge shotgun, and a Colt 1911 pistol while studying abroad. He says he hasn't brought any of his guns back. His supervisor seems a little more chary of throwing him too heavy assignments now.
Comments on blog entries. Hm. Maybe I'll comment later. But just because we have Asperger's syndrome doesn't mean we have licence to run roughshod over the feelings of our friends, Gabriel. *Try* not to ruin everything by being yourself, hein?
Post ID: 85684385
Sunday, December 08, 2002
Whee!
"Definitely one of the best gamebook series ever released, Blood Sword is an excellent fantasy gamebook series designed more for hard-core RPG players than casual readers. Set in "Legend," the fantasy world expoused in detail in Dave Morris & Oliver Johnson's Dragon Warriors RPG (which I might scan for this site at some point in the future), Blood Sword books are well-written, fun, and challenging.
"Definitely one of the best gamebook series ever released, Blood Sword is an excellent fantasy gamebook series designed more for hard-core RPG players than casual readers. Set in "Legend," the fantasy world expoused in detail in Dave Morris & Oliver Johnson's Dragon Warriors RPG (which I might scan for this site at some point in the future), Blood Sword books are well-written, fun, and challenging.
There are many innovations that make it more memorable than other series. The most intriguing idea is that you can control a party of up to four characters, or play it with up to 3 other people. Each player controls one out of 4 available classes: Sage (a fighter/monk), Enchanter, Trickster, and Warrior. The characters are well-balanced, and you can finish the adventures without having all four classes (although it would be quite tough to do that without a Sage).
The combat system is very well designed: the closest to an RPG system I have seen. When you engage in battle, you are shown a diagram of the battlefield before each fight. You can carry characters from book to book, similar to the Lone Wolf series. They are also much longer than your average gamebook: each book contains 500+ passages spread over 300 pages of mostly very descriptive (and at times gruesome) text. If you are looking for a challenging, absorbing, and mature gamebook series, look no further than this out of print and extremely rare classic.
Our collection is the complete 5-book series, so download and enjoy. It took me close to 30 hours to scan all of these huge volumes, each of which goes for $30 or more on EBay whenever I see it, so your support in return would be greatly appreciated :)"
That's one thing I can be said to have done for mankind ;)
Hmm he implies that he paid for the books!
Someone remade King's Quest II
Post ID: 85676825
Yucheng was restless after coming back from Brunei, so I went to bum around with him today. [Ed: This sentence sounds rather goofy. I'd rather have nicked it, but introductory paragraphs are always needed.]
I got a lift and so was there early. There was this performance by 2 girls from Yamaha Music School. At first, I thought it was going to be an Organ Recital, but then when one girl slotted a diskette into one of the organs, the hair on the nape of neck prickled. Indeed the performance was rather loud ; they launched into a typical fanfare, with instruments like drums, cymbals, trumpets and others I couldn't readily identify used, and the way they moved while playing some of the songs made them look like they'd been possessed. And they performed a medley from 'Spirited Away', that half-baked excuse for a prettily drawn slideshow-extravaganza, with a plot that made absolutely no sense.
It seems that I always have the Seafood Platter for Two (no, not by myself!) whenever I go to Fish & Co. Anyhow Yucheng was *still* hungry after lunch, so he got an Apple Pie (Fried Apple Pies still lose to Baked ones) and a Long John Silver's Combo 1 (Probably the cheapest Fast Food meal you can find). He attributes it to the Jungle Confidence Course doing things to his stomach. Right.
Die Another Day was rather typical Bond - bad jokes, bad sexual puns, nifty toys, big explosions et al. I wonder how they manage to get bigger and bigger everytime - the scale of the movies (explosions, fights, budget, product endorsements), that is. Maybe they'll visit the Moon next time and "Marlboro" will be printed on the Space Shuttle. Luckily the plot loopholes don't grow with the scale of the shows - they were rather minor this time, or maybe I just missed them. The references to previous shows in the franchise were quite poignant, though - they had the jet pack from Thunderball in a disused Tube station. And a final observation: Halle Berry must have the shortest hair of any Bond Girl so far!
My mother berated me for my scruffy dressing and threatened to turn some of my clothes into rags again. The thing is - even when I try to dress "properly", I tend to end up looking scruffy, so I prefer to just dress for comfort.
Haven't ego-surfed for a while.
Just dug this up.
And there's a whole page dedicated to the class. Aww. Such poignant memories :)
[Me on Long John Silvers] Ring the bell and get a 5 cent discount. [Lady at counter: Sorry, excuse me?]
Exchange between me and Marc (Australian Cousin):
Me: haha they manage to get bigger and bigger each time
Him: wat r u talkin about
ur not talking about the "bond babe's" breasts r u
Me: *sputter*
Also: Oh my god.
Fragment:
"i used to keep writing down my thoughts, things i wanted to remember, things i thought would be nice to share, and expand upon on my blog. bits of poetry and song. i had to write them all down because i was afraid i'd forget. then i realised, they're my thoughts, and i thought them because i'm who i am; i'm not going to lose any of my thoughts because i'm not going to lose who i am."
And:
"hmm, this month's cosmo says the best time to quit smoking is 1-14 days after getting your period. heh heh heh, the only time when you like to hear advice is when it doesn't apply to you anymore."
LOL
I got a lift and so was there early. There was this performance by 2 girls from Yamaha Music School. At first, I thought it was going to be an Organ Recital, but then when one girl slotted a diskette into one of the organs, the hair on the nape of neck prickled. Indeed the performance was rather loud ; they launched into a typical fanfare, with instruments like drums, cymbals, trumpets and others I couldn't readily identify used, and the way they moved while playing some of the songs made them look like they'd been possessed. And they performed a medley from 'Spirited Away', that half-baked excuse for a prettily drawn slideshow-extravaganza, with a plot that made absolutely no sense.
It seems that I always have the Seafood Platter for Two (no, not by myself!) whenever I go to Fish & Co. Anyhow Yucheng was *still* hungry after lunch, so he got an Apple Pie (Fried Apple Pies still lose to Baked ones) and a Long John Silver's Combo 1 (Probably the cheapest Fast Food meal you can find). He attributes it to the Jungle Confidence Course doing things to his stomach. Right.
Die Another Day was rather typical Bond - bad jokes, bad sexual puns, nifty toys, big explosions et al. I wonder how they manage to get bigger and bigger everytime - the scale of the movies (explosions, fights, budget, product endorsements), that is. Maybe they'll visit the Moon next time and "Marlboro" will be printed on the Space Shuttle. Luckily the plot loopholes don't grow with the scale of the shows - they were rather minor this time, or maybe I just missed them. The references to previous shows in the franchise were quite poignant, though - they had the jet pack from Thunderball in a disused Tube station. And a final observation: Halle Berry must have the shortest hair of any Bond Girl so far!
My mother berated me for my scruffy dressing and threatened to turn some of my clothes into rags again. The thing is - even when I try to dress "properly", I tend to end up looking scruffy, so I prefer to just dress for comfort.
Haven't ego-surfed for a while.
Just dug this up.
And there's a whole page dedicated to the class. Aww. Such poignant memories :)
[Me on Long John Silvers] Ring the bell and get a 5 cent discount. [Lady at counter: Sorry, excuse me?]
Exchange between me and Marc (Australian Cousin):
Me: haha they manage to get bigger and bigger each time
Him: wat r u talkin about
ur not talking about the "bond babe's" breasts r u
Me: *sputter*
Also: Oh my god.
Fragment:
"i used to keep writing down my thoughts, things i wanted to remember, things i thought would be nice to share, and expand upon on my blog. bits of poetry and song. i had to write them all down because i was afraid i'd forget. then i realised, they're my thoughts, and i thought them because i'm who i am; i'm not going to lose any of my thoughts because i'm not going to lose who i am."
And:
"hmm, this month's cosmo says the best time to quit smoking is 1-14 days after getting your period. heh heh heh, the only time when you like to hear advice is when it doesn't apply to you anymore."
LOL
Post ID: 85674972
New template.
Any comments? This is an open invitation to flame me :)
Damn. Archives publishing is still down.
Finally got off my butt and made a Why M$N IM is Evil page.
Any comments? This is an open invitation to flame me :)
Damn. Archives publishing is still down.
Finally got off my butt and made a Why M$N IM is Evil page.
Post ID: 85643618
Saturday, December 07, 2002
Just flashed in a new BIOS (gotten from the manufacturer's website, and not from the Award certified conmen).
My file copying problem seems to be gone both with Optimised and Fail-Safe BIOS settings.
Too bad my SCV modem's still problematic, but I guess I shouldn't have expected too much :)
(�`�.,��,.���
Now, I wonder what this is supposed to be?
Blogskins is so fun!
I just submitted a skin I wrote myself.
Preview it.
My file copying problem seems to be gone both with Optimised and Fail-Safe BIOS settings.
Too bad my SCV modem's still problematic, but I guess I shouldn't have expected too much :)
(�`�.,��,.���
Now, I wonder what this is supposed to be?
Blogskins is so fun!
I just submitted a skin I wrote myself.
Preview it.
Post ID: 85639330
*bleep*
Why do people hate Jews? Is it because they're rich? Successful? Smart? Close knit? That they've managed to survive against all odds? Witness the improbable "Zionist Conspiracies" alleged to have been plotted across the ages. And the rubbish that is The Protocols Of The Elders Of Zion.
I bear the immortal words of Yortsin in mind: "Maybe the Jews are seen as different, and no one likes different people. No one likes the X-Men, for example."
:)
In other happenings, Kenneth wanted someone to go to Tango classes with him, so Yechao said he could tango with Mrs Lim Guat Ching. HAHAHA. Must be the best joke he's ever made :)
"Lecture is a time, it should be pleasurable... you agree with me? Therefore, you must tango with me, don't just tango and jam alone." - The Commander
I wonder if Xephyris will ever post here again. Ah, my little fledgling bird has grown wings and left the nest. I'm so proud! ^__^' Haha.
Quotes:
[To me] You know what I like about you?... You're funny... [Me: You get irritated first, then you laugh?] I laugh first, then later I get irritated... It's okay as long as you don't try to out talk me... out argue too often
[On The Economist] How to read? Then I've to bring a dictionary.
Expandable Store (Expendables)
[In the QM office] Pls Speak Only In English
[42SAR drivers on Henry when they were in the same bunk] He used to be our bunkmate... We always treat she-him as our good friend... entertainment... our sex slave
Why do people hate Jews? Is it because they're rich? Successful? Smart? Close knit? That they've managed to survive against all odds? Witness the improbable "Zionist Conspiracies" alleged to have been plotted across the ages. And the rubbish that is The Protocols Of The Elders Of Zion.
I bear the immortal words of Yortsin in mind: "Maybe the Jews are seen as different, and no one likes different people. No one likes the X-Men, for example."
:)
In other happenings, Kenneth wanted someone to go to Tango classes with him, so Yechao said he could tango with Mrs Lim Guat Ching. HAHAHA. Must be the best joke he's ever made :)
"Lecture is a time, it should be pleasurable... you agree with me? Therefore, you must tango with me, don't just tango and jam alone." - The Commander
I wonder if Xephyris will ever post here again. Ah, my little fledgling bird has grown wings and left the nest. I'm so proud! ^__^' Haha.
Quotes:
[To me] You know what I like about you?... You're funny... [Me: You get irritated first, then you laugh?] I laugh first, then later I get irritated... It's okay as long as you don't try to out talk me... out argue too often
[On The Economist] How to read? Then I've to bring a dictionary.
Expandable Store (Expendables)
[In the QM office] Pls Speak Only In English
[42SAR drivers on Henry when they were in the same bunk] He used to be our bunkmate... We always treat she-him as our good friend... entertainment... our sex slave
Post ID: 85633467
I'm checking CAAS Flight Information now.
Ooo. They've voice recognition now!
This is ridiculous. I'm saying "play all" and "Bangkok" to a computer.
I think they don't like my voice. Suddenly, they've gone back to "Please press 1 for ~" and the like.
LOL
(lifted from somewhere)
SMS Transcript on HCJC guys on MRT
1= What the hell.. hc guys are damn nerdy man...I've these three guys standing beside me who're going for prom apparently... Wtf...They look damn weird.
2=One's wearing a white polo shirt and white pants and sport shoes and a blue haversack...He's wearing his watch close to his elbow...And he has damn thick specs
3=The second is just plain weird...He's wearing a brown shirt and black pants but has his shirt tucked damn far in...
4=first guy... and oh. his belt has a gold buckle... Help man...And guess what? They're discussing word riddles and math riddles...Wtf
5=what starts and ends with und?? Underground! -giggle giggle- and one even drooled while laughing...Omg...um...Even the worst nerds in rj pale in comparison
6=I really should get a phone that can take photos...I'm really freaked out... It's -after- the a levels and they're still discussing math and riddles incesstantly
7=sheet...I really hope my child doens't turn out like that in the future...I will just proceed to the nearest building and jump. Jump damn it! Jump! -freaked-
8=my god...They finally left the train...You know what they said? 'oh, the last time i went out was just after o levels...'i went out once during j1--field
9=trip for bio' 'really? Me too!' omg... I'm getting out of the train.
Ooo. They've voice recognition now!
This is ridiculous. I'm saying "play all" and "Bangkok" to a computer.
I think they don't like my voice. Suddenly, they've gone back to "Please press 1 for ~" and the like.
LOL
(lifted from somewhere)
SMS Transcript on HCJC guys on MRT
1= What the hell.. hc guys are damn nerdy man...I've these three guys standing beside me who're going for prom apparently... Wtf...They look damn weird.
2=One's wearing a white polo shirt and white pants and sport shoes and a blue haversack...He's wearing his watch close to his elbow...And he has damn thick specs
3=The second is just plain weird...He's wearing a brown shirt and black pants but has his shirt tucked damn far in...
4=first guy... and oh. his belt has a gold buckle... Help man...And guess what? They're discussing word riddles and math riddles...Wtf
5=what starts and ends with und?? Underground! -giggle giggle- and one even drooled while laughing...Omg...um...Even the worst nerds in rj pale in comparison
6=I really should get a phone that can take photos...I'm really freaked out... It's -after- the a levels and they're still discussing math and riddles incesstantly
7=sheet...I really hope my child doens't turn out like that in the future...I will just proceed to the nearest building and jump. Jump damn it! Jump! -freaked-
8=my god...They finally left the train...You know what they said? 'oh, the last time i went out was just after o levels...'i went out once during j1--field
9=trip for bio' 'really? Me too!' omg... I'm getting out of the train.
Post ID: 85632192
LOL
Someone gets his
http://www.freep.com/money/tech/mwend6_20021206.htm
Internet spammer can't take what he dishes out
West Bloomfield bulk e-mailer Alan Ralsky, who just may be the world's biggest sender of Internet spam, is getting a taste of his own medicine.
Ever since I wrote a story on him a couple of weeks ago (www.freep.com/money/tech/mwend22_20021122.htm), he says he's been inundated with ads, catalogs and brochures delivered by the U.S. Postal Service to his brand-new $740,000 home.
It's all the result of a well-organized campaign by the anti-spam community, and Ralsky doesn't find it funny.
"They've signed me up for every advertising campaign and mailing list there is," he told me. "These people are out of their minds. They're harassing me."
That they are. Gleefully. Almost 300 anti-Ralsky posts were made on the Slashdot.org Web site, where the plan was hatched after spam haters posted his address, even an aerial view of his neighborhood.
"Several tons of snail mail spam every day might just annoy him as much as his spam annoys me," wrote one of the anti-spammers.
Ralsky is indeed annoyed. He says he's asked Bloomfield Hills attorney Robert Harrison to sue the anti-spammers.
Excerpts from the original:
http://www.freep.com/money/tech/mwend22_20021122.htm
MIKE WENDLAND: Spam king lives large off others' e-mail troubles
West Bloomfield computer empire helped by foreign Internet servers
'You might call it the house that spam built...
But now, after moving a few weeks ago into his new $740,000 house, he claims he's back in business.
Ralsky used to be easy to locate, with a listed address and phone number. But his attorney, Robert Harrison of Bloomfield Hills, said Ralsky is so hated by anti-spammers that he's had to be less visible.
"There were threats against him, cars driving by and people checking out his house," Harrison said. "Someone even left a package of what appeared to be dog feces."
Ralsky admits to using lots of different domain names and Internet providers, but said he does nothing illegal. He prefers to call his e-mails marketing messages instead of spam.
"I'll never quit," said the 57-year-old master of spam. "I like what I do. This is the greatest business in the world."
It's made him a millionaire, he said, seated in the wood-paneled first floor library of his new house. "In fact," he added, "this wing was probably paid for by an e-mail I sent out for a couple of years promoting a weight-loss plan."
"There is no way this can be stopped," Ralsky said. "It's a perfectly legal business that has allowed anybody to compete with the Fortune 500 companies."
Ralsky has other ways to monitor the success of his campaigns. Buried in every e-mail he sends is a hidden code that sends back a message every time the e-mail is opened. [Ed: Web bugs! Cookies! EVIL.]
Earlier this month, said Ralsky, somebody told the Chinese government that a Web company from which he leases e-mail servers in Beijing was sending messages critical of Chinese policy.
"...there are a lot of anti-spam activists, and apparently some of them on their own started organizing a campaign to get the Chinese government to think that Ralsky was supporting" the Falun Gong, an outlawed spiritual group the Chinese government considers subversive. "We didn't endorse that, but it shows you how deep the anti-Ralsky feelings are."
Ralsky, meanwhile, is looking at new technology. Recently he's been talking to two computer programmers in Romania who have developed what could be called stealth spam.
It is intricate computer software, said Ralsky, that can detect computers that are online and then be programmed to flash them a pop-up ad, much like the kind that display whenever a particular Web site is opened.
"This is even better," he said. "You don't have to be on a Web site at all. You can just have your computer on, connected to the Internet, reading e-mail or just idling and, bam, this program detects your presence and up pops the message on your screen, past firewalls, past anti-spam programs, past anything.
"Isn't technology great?"'
Someone gets his
Just Desserts
http://www.freep.com/money/tech/mwend6_20021206.htm
Internet spammer can't take what he dishes out
West Bloomfield bulk e-mailer Alan Ralsky, who just may be the world's biggest sender of Internet spam, is getting a taste of his own medicine.
Ever since I wrote a story on him a couple of weeks ago (www.freep.com/money/tech/mwend22_20021122.htm), he says he's been inundated with ads, catalogs and brochures delivered by the U.S. Postal Service to his brand-new $740,000 home.
It's all the result of a well-organized campaign by the anti-spam community, and Ralsky doesn't find it funny.
"They've signed me up for every advertising campaign and mailing list there is," he told me. "These people are out of their minds. They're harassing me."
That they are. Gleefully. Almost 300 anti-Ralsky posts were made on the Slashdot.org Web site, where the plan was hatched after spam haters posted his address, even an aerial view of his neighborhood.
"Several tons of snail mail spam every day might just annoy him as much as his spam annoys me," wrote one of the anti-spammers.
Ralsky is indeed annoyed. He says he's asked Bloomfield Hills attorney Robert Harrison to sue the anti-spammers.
Excerpts from the original:
http://www.freep.com/money/tech/mwend22_20021122.htm
MIKE WENDLAND: Spam king lives large off others' e-mail troubles
West Bloomfield computer empire helped by foreign Internet servers
'You might call it the house that spam built...
But now, after moving a few weeks ago into his new $740,000 house, he claims he's back in business.
Ralsky used to be easy to locate, with a listed address and phone number. But his attorney, Robert Harrison of Bloomfield Hills, said Ralsky is so hated by anti-spammers that he's had to be less visible.
"There were threats against him, cars driving by and people checking out his house," Harrison said. "Someone even left a package of what appeared to be dog feces."
Ralsky admits to using lots of different domain names and Internet providers, but said he does nothing illegal. He prefers to call his e-mails marketing messages instead of spam.
"I'll never quit," said the 57-year-old master of spam. "I like what I do. This is the greatest business in the world."
It's made him a millionaire, he said, seated in the wood-paneled first floor library of his new house. "In fact," he added, "this wing was probably paid for by an e-mail I sent out for a couple of years promoting a weight-loss plan."
"There is no way this can be stopped," Ralsky said. "It's a perfectly legal business that has allowed anybody to compete with the Fortune 500 companies."
Ralsky has other ways to monitor the success of his campaigns. Buried in every e-mail he sends is a hidden code that sends back a message every time the e-mail is opened. [Ed: Web bugs! Cookies! EVIL.]
Earlier this month, said Ralsky, somebody told the Chinese government that a Web company from which he leases e-mail servers in Beijing was sending messages critical of Chinese policy.
"...there are a lot of anti-spam activists, and apparently some of them on their own started organizing a campaign to get the Chinese government to think that Ralsky was supporting" the Falun Gong, an outlawed spiritual group the Chinese government considers subversive. "We didn't endorse that, but it shows you how deep the anti-Ralsky feelings are."
Ralsky, meanwhile, is looking at new technology. Recently he's been talking to two computer programmers in Romania who have developed what could be called stealth spam.
It is intricate computer software, said Ralsky, that can detect computers that are online and then be programmed to flash them a pop-up ad, much like the kind that display whenever a particular Web site is opened.
"This is even better," he said. "You don't have to be on a Web site at all. You can just have your computer on, connected to the Internet, reading e-mail or just idling and, bam, this program detects your presence and up pops the message on your screen, past firewalls, past anti-spam programs, past anything.
"Isn't technology great?"'
Post ID: 85630525
Met with Yisa at the Heeren yesterday. Crepes and Cream doesn't serve pork. Evil!
There was this Praise and Worship roadshow on the grass patch oppposite the Heeren. How (*ahem*) insensitive! It's Hari Raya, so, as in Malaysia, we cannot do anything that might conceivably offend Muslims. Hell, the whole month of Ramadan is holy, so during the month all bars must be closed down, prostitutes stopped from operating and no pork can be sold.
After that I wanted to go watch the portion of Evil Cult that turned up carol at CHIJMES. Yisa made some effort to keep up with me, then gave up and let me lope there. Along the way, I stopped and talked to Chris Lin (the Commando Clerk who used to sing under tables, not the hairy cadet who used to compare his thrusting power with Melvin's in overturning my table), who was going to eat Bak Chor Mee with his friend.
At CHIJMES, 15 of them were performing in their normal performance attire - a little unsuited for an occasion as this, I thought - under the baton of Kelvin Chan (*clap*), serenading diners as they ate and moving from establishment to establishment like itinerant mendicants. And at the end they indeed got paid by an Italian matron, the owner of an Italian restaurant, but with Lemonade and Fruit Punch, not with their supper.
Overall, I felt that the performance reminded me of a well sequenced MIDI - no matter how well you sequence a MIDI, no matter how realistic the voice library is or even how you tweak the rendering for excellence, it can never compare to an MP3 ; there was a lack of accents and dramatic pauses in their renditions of the songs. And towards the end, they got twangy and *really* off. They might have been fatigued, but I've done a 2 hr gig with RV before, in Pasir Ris, though by the end my feet were nearly dropping off. Maybe they need TBS to whip (woah) them back into shape.
At one point, the carollers walked into China Jump to perform. The place was deserted. I'd have thought that it'd be crowded, this being a friday and public holiday's night - this after all, was the place where people were licking each other's belly buttons the other time (if my failing memory serves me correctly). Sicheng echoed my thoughts when he offered, as a reason - "All the Muslims aren't here". ;) Incidentally, Mr Reeves was being interviewed on one of the sports channels at the time. Hehe.
One of the teachers in charge - a new one - was present, and she's so young that at first I mistook her for a J3.
Jason - who's really shrunk after JCC (Jungle Confidence Course) - was there also, to say hello, as I did, to the RV juniors and probably to acquaint himself with a new generation. And earlier I greeted, perfunctorily, Moses, Enbin and Edwin as they were sitting outside one of the restaurants.
Many of their scores were suspiciously familiar and indeed on confronting him, Kelvin admitted that he stole them from Nellie. It was nice to hear songs I'd last sung in Hawaii in 1999 *wistful*
Some of them were affected of the bad habit of, when singing a lively song, flailing their arms around, grinning like fools, shuffling around and looking at each other from time to time. This is one level of degeneracy below "jerking head and shoulders when you sing". It's quite funny to watch really, but rather distracting.
The material of the skirts looks like it's cheap PVC. It certainly has the dull sheen of PVC. Yeech. And some of the girls lost their flowers. Lucky no guys lost their cravats :)
Why are Mambo and Quiksilver shirts so popular among guys? Maybe it's the same as for pool :)
I just got savaged (and I do mean savaged) again. Of course, I was baited to rant here, or to others, about my complete lack of culpability. And though the person professes not to want to "touch [my] site with a ten-foot pole otherwise", I wager that somehow, the person will come to know of this.
And no, I haven't and won't be "trumpeting [my] lac (sic) of fault to all and sundry". My fault, often, is in talking too much. And I talk too much in camp too, which is why people get annoyed sometimes too. Though I won't begrudge them whatever fragment of amusement they may garner :)
I sought to apologise, and got several unwarranted (?) barbs thrown at me. Oh well. I suppose if you take things personally, you do tend to get quite insulted, just like why I'm outraged whenever someone in Saudi Arabia gets his head lopped off with a sword for apostasy or such other offences under Sharia. So maybe I should stop caring about male genital mutilation also. Nevermind. I suppose everyone needs some personal causes, whether mundane or eccentric.
Dammit. This is such an inconsequential matter. If it was of any consequence, I wouldn't be quite so flighty.
Add to that someone else's seeming weariness with me. Tim said maybe I seem to fall out with many people because I know a lot of people. Mayhap.
I was discussing with Yisa how I wanted to try not to piss people off so much and he asked if I was sacrificing my individualism to conform. Actually I think that often, what irks others is not that I'm weird or offensive, but I choose to broadcast that to others :) Perhaps it's the exhibitionist streak that is the problem.
This seems to be a trite topic, and I've exposited on it at length before. I wonder why I come back to it every now and again? And when all is said and then, my thinking before making any move would mean that the magic of the moment would always be gone, and I'd never ever say or do anything as a result. To different people be different gifts. Maybe I am just not gifted in this arena like others.
Maybe I should just go into a corner and hide.
2:40PM:
"when i first knew you, i really couldn't stnad your brand of humour, and commentories.... they too made my blood boil... hence my earlier stand-offs with you.
You have a knack for saying things that many pple think and nobody says. Of course you'll piss some people off. That's the reason why the majority say nothing to begin with."
People say the thing is I just talk too much. Well, you know what they say about Silence being Golden.
"and the argument about judging... who can truly judge a man? :/"
What can change the nature of a man? Okay. That has only peripheral relevance. Never mind.
When I want people to take me seriously, they don't. When I don't want them to take me seriously, they do. Bah.
At least, out of this, I got some very interesting and meaningful views from people. About more ways than one why the person in question was so pissed off, and other complementary matters. Thank you to all who were discussing the meaning of life and related matters with me :) (In the unlikely event that you come here)
There was this Praise and Worship roadshow on the grass patch oppposite the Heeren. How (*ahem*) insensitive! It's Hari Raya, so, as in Malaysia, we cannot do anything that might conceivably offend Muslims. Hell, the whole month of Ramadan is holy, so during the month all bars must be closed down, prostitutes stopped from operating and no pork can be sold.
After that I wanted to go watch the portion of Evil Cult that turned up carol at CHIJMES. Yisa made some effort to keep up with me, then gave up and let me lope there. Along the way, I stopped and talked to Chris Lin (the Commando Clerk who used to sing under tables, not the hairy cadet who used to compare his thrusting power with Melvin's in overturning my table), who was going to eat Bak Chor Mee with his friend.
At CHIJMES, 15 of them were performing in their normal performance attire - a little unsuited for an occasion as this, I thought - under the baton of Kelvin Chan (*clap*), serenading diners as they ate and moving from establishment to establishment like itinerant mendicants. And at the end they indeed got paid by an Italian matron, the owner of an Italian restaurant, but with Lemonade and Fruit Punch, not with their supper.
Overall, I felt that the performance reminded me of a well sequenced MIDI - no matter how well you sequence a MIDI, no matter how realistic the voice library is or even how you tweak the rendering for excellence, it can never compare to an MP3 ; there was a lack of accents and dramatic pauses in their renditions of the songs. And towards the end, they got twangy and *really* off. They might have been fatigued, but I've done a 2 hr gig with RV before, in Pasir Ris, though by the end my feet were nearly dropping off. Maybe they need TBS to whip (woah) them back into shape.
At one point, the carollers walked into China Jump to perform. The place was deserted. I'd have thought that it'd be crowded, this being a friday and public holiday's night - this after all, was the place where people were licking each other's belly buttons the other time (if my failing memory serves me correctly). Sicheng echoed my thoughts when he offered, as a reason - "All the Muslims aren't here". ;) Incidentally, Mr Reeves was being interviewed on one of the sports channels at the time. Hehe.
One of the teachers in charge - a new one - was present, and she's so young that at first I mistook her for a J3.
Jason - who's really shrunk after JCC (Jungle Confidence Course) - was there also, to say hello, as I did, to the RV juniors and probably to acquaint himself with a new generation. And earlier I greeted, perfunctorily, Moses, Enbin and Edwin as they were sitting outside one of the restaurants.
Many of their scores were suspiciously familiar and indeed on confronting him, Kelvin admitted that he stole them from Nellie. It was nice to hear songs I'd last sung in Hawaii in 1999 *wistful*
Some of them were affected of the bad habit of, when singing a lively song, flailing their arms around, grinning like fools, shuffling around and looking at each other from time to time. This is one level of degeneracy below "jerking head and shoulders when you sing". It's quite funny to watch really, but rather distracting.
The material of the skirts looks like it's cheap PVC. It certainly has the dull sheen of PVC. Yeech. And some of the girls lost their flowers. Lucky no guys lost their cravats :)
Why are Mambo and Quiksilver shirts so popular among guys? Maybe it's the same as for pool :)
I just got savaged (and I do mean savaged) again. Of course, I was baited to rant here, or to others, about my complete lack of culpability. And though the person professes not to want to "touch [my] site with a ten-foot pole otherwise", I wager that somehow, the person will come to know of this.
And no, I haven't and won't be "trumpeting [my] lac (sic) of fault to all and sundry". My fault, often, is in talking too much. And I talk too much in camp too, which is why people get annoyed sometimes too. Though I won't begrudge them whatever fragment of amusement they may garner :)
I sought to apologise, and got several unwarranted (?) barbs thrown at me. Oh well. I suppose if you take things personally, you do tend to get quite insulted, just like why I'm outraged whenever someone in Saudi Arabia gets his head lopped off with a sword for apostasy or such other offences under Sharia. So maybe I should stop caring about male genital mutilation also. Nevermind. I suppose everyone needs some personal causes, whether mundane or eccentric.
Dammit. This is such an inconsequential matter. If it was of any consequence, I wouldn't be quite so flighty.
Add to that someone else's seeming weariness with me. Tim said maybe I seem to fall out with many people because I know a lot of people. Mayhap.
I was discussing with Yisa how I wanted to try not to piss people off so much and he asked if I was sacrificing my individualism to conform. Actually I think that often, what irks others is not that I'm weird or offensive, but I choose to broadcast that to others :) Perhaps it's the exhibitionist streak that is the problem.
This seems to be a trite topic, and I've exposited on it at length before. I wonder why I come back to it every now and again? And when all is said and then, my thinking before making any move would mean that the magic of the moment would always be gone, and I'd never ever say or do anything as a result. To different people be different gifts. Maybe I am just not gifted in this arena like others.
Maybe I should just go into a corner and hide.
2:40PM:
"when i first knew you, i really couldn't stnad your brand of humour, and commentories.... they too made my blood boil... hence my earlier stand-offs with you.
You have a knack for saying things that many pple think and nobody says. Of course you'll piss some people off. That's the reason why the majority say nothing to begin with."
People say the thing is I just talk too much. Well, you know what they say about Silence being Golden.
"and the argument about judging... who can truly judge a man? :/"
What can change the nature of a man? Okay. That has only peripheral relevance. Never mind.
When I want people to take me seriously, they don't. When I don't want them to take me seriously, they do. Bah.
At least, out of this, I got some very interesting and meaningful views from people. About more ways than one why the person in question was so pissed off, and other complementary matters. Thank you to all who were discussing the meaning of life and related matters with me :) (In the unlikely event that you come here)
Post ID: 85623585
Friday, December 06, 2002
"Then the name - John... at the end of Planescape: Torment, all the hate mail... Put a poll, "What do you think his name should be?" Then you put "Agagooga", then everyone votes." - Tim
Gah.
Empire Earth's combat system is ridiculously scissors-paper-stone-like. And Isaurian bowmen jump like dying fish when they die.
Got my CDs exchanged - curiously, they worked on the computer of the man at the shop ; only thing is, instead of taking Medieval: Total War, I took Age of Mythology! ARGH. Hope Julian will buy it from me. And the changed Warcraft 3 still won't read on my computer. Maybe the whole batch of CDs doesn't like my computer.
Super Mario Brothers. Hit 80s Video Game, Or Subtle Communist Propaganda Campaign?
I bet He Who Must Not Be Named can't get 20/20 on this quiz.
Gah.
Empire Earth's combat system is ridiculously scissors-paper-stone-like. And Isaurian bowmen jump like dying fish when they die.
Got my CDs exchanged - curiously, they worked on the computer of the man at the shop ; only thing is, instead of taking Medieval: Total War, I took Age of Mythology! ARGH. Hope Julian will buy it from me. And the changed Warcraft 3 still won't read on my computer. Maybe the whole batch of CDs doesn't like my computer.
Super Mario Brothers. Hit 80s Video Game, Or Subtle Communist Propaganda Campaign?
I bet He Who Must Not Be Named can't get 20/20 on this quiz.
Post ID: 85595085
Haha look what Ger dug up:
Accomplishments
I painted a picture � green sky � and showed it to my
mother.
She said that�s nice, I guess.
So I painted another holding the paintbrush in my teeth,
Look, Ma, no hands. And she said
I guess someone would admire that if they knew
How you did it and they were interested in painting
which I am not.
I played clarinet solo in Gounod�s Clarinet Concerto
With the Buffalo Philharmonic. Mother came to listen
and said
That�s nice, I guess.
So I played it with the Boston Symphony,
Lying on my back and using my toes,
Look, Ma, no hands. And she said
I guess someone would admire that if they knew
How you did it and they were interested in music
which I am not.
I made an almond souffl� and served it to my mother.
She said that�s nice, I guess.
So I made another, beating it with my breath,
Serving it with my elbows,
Look, Ma, no hands. And she said
I guess someone would admire that if they knew
How you did it and they were interested in eating
which I am not.
So I sterilized my wrists, performed the amputation,
threw away
My hands and went to my mother, but before I could
say
Look, Ma, no hands, she said
I have a present for you and insisted I try on
The blue kid-gloves to make sure they were the right
size.
~Cynthia MacDonald
Oddly intriguing:
Asperger's Syndrome
It's ludicrously easy to bypass the expiry of Norton Antivirus subscriptions - just change the date.
Why didn't I think of that?
Bah my Warcraft 3 and Age of Mythology CDs are spoilt. At least I'm still within the 1 week window the man gave me. I hope he's open today.
Accomplishments
I painted a picture � green sky � and showed it to my
mother.
She said that�s nice, I guess.
So I painted another holding the paintbrush in my teeth,
Look, Ma, no hands. And she said
I guess someone would admire that if they knew
How you did it and they were interested in painting
which I am not.
I played clarinet solo in Gounod�s Clarinet Concerto
With the Buffalo Philharmonic. Mother came to listen
and said
That�s nice, I guess.
So I played it with the Boston Symphony,
Lying on my back and using my toes,
Look, Ma, no hands. And she said
I guess someone would admire that if they knew
How you did it and they were interested in music
which I am not.
I made an almond souffl� and served it to my mother.
She said that�s nice, I guess.
So I made another, beating it with my breath,
Serving it with my elbows,
Look, Ma, no hands. And she said
I guess someone would admire that if they knew
How you did it and they were interested in eating
which I am not.
So I sterilized my wrists, performed the amputation,
threw away
My hands and went to my mother, but before I could
say
Look, Ma, no hands, she said
I have a present for you and insisted I try on
The blue kid-gloves to make sure they were the right
size.
~Cynthia MacDonald
Oddly intriguing:
Asperger's Syndrome
It's ludicrously easy to bypass the expiry of Norton Antivirus subscriptions - just change the date.
Why didn't I think of that?
Bah my Warcraft 3 and Age of Mythology CDs are spoilt. At least I'm still within the 1 week window the man gave me. I hope he's open today.
Post ID: 85571787
Thursday, December 05, 2002
I think Disney has a delibilating effect on people. Too many feel-good, stylised portrayals of our world tend to screw people up and give them unrealistic expectations (cf Romance Novels).
Witness Screwed Up Girl. Right now she's singing all manner of Disney songs to me over the phone - all from the 60s or before and exalting dead and long gone values and ideals, and encouraging people to have unrealistic expectations (like having a Prince and a true love and all that jazz).
Unhealthy. Very unhealthy.
At least children find out that there's no Santa when they hit puberty.
Witness Screwed Up Girl. Right now she's singing all manner of Disney songs to me over the phone - all from the 60s or before and exalting dead and long gone values and ideals, and encouraging people to have unrealistic expectations (like having a Prince and a true love and all that jazz).
Unhealthy. Very unhealthy.
At least children find out that there's no Santa when they hit puberty.
Post ID: 85540544
Intrigued by a Life! feature today about the Amazing Race 3 in Singapore, I watched non-PRLR TV for the first time in a while. Like all reality TV, the show was surrealistically contrived. At least the method of elimination is fair, and winning individual rounds does bring rewards. The length of the show was tiring, though. 2 hours?
Of course, people having nothing better to pick on were grumbling about how disgraceful it was to have chosen Phua Chu Kang to appear on the show instead of some (questionable) alternatives like the Singapore Girl (SIA - Sex In the Air) and Zoe Tay. At least PCK got to say "don't pray pray", probably because this was for a foreign-produced show.
They claimed that locals believe that the Fountain of Wealth's waters bring good luck. What bullshit. I bet they'd just as soon have related the, ah, Legend of the Merlion.
[07/12/02:
LOL
"AHHH!! Major disgrace to RGS. I nearly *fainted* when I heard this. Derek and Drew asked directions to the Zoo from an RGS girl and SHE DIDN'T RECOGNISE THEM!! I could just DIE. If it was me I'd... I'd... I don't know. Apparently Sin Ni's senior just gave them directions, turned around to her other friend and said, "They look familiar." Ahh! How could she? That's the crime of the century!!!"
NB: Apparently this wasn't in the final footage. Oh well.]
A most atypical and surreal way in which someone found Balderdash:
"found it in my sch comp...hahahaha"
wth?! Apparently this page is popular with Raffles Guys. Witness the rave reviews: "Haha Great webbie you got here! Keep it up :D", "hey agagooga, you are the one that visited the rgs gym site too right? haha... been to your sites...it's real funny.."
This person's in both Flesh Parade and Associate Flesh Parade ;) Woah.
[NB: The link to me has mysteriously disappeared, for reasons unknown to men living]
A guy named Shunjing seems to like a guy named Dalglish
Now, where have we heard the latter name before? :)
Comparing the 2 blogs, we come to a very interesting conclusion.
More disturbing RJ rantings on clubbing:
"but my fren had connections.. and soon all of us were getting shots for FREE!!!! woohoo!! hahaha... then i hit the dance floor after checking out this group of gals
tats when i met limins fren...hwee ye...
oh yah.. dunno if i should say this but will anyway..... i really kinda liked the way she was holding me... warm and nice sensual feeling...
serious.... its dumb to say this...but i felt like really loved....... it was seriously nice.. never been touched that way b4... wad was to come later wasnt as nice... serious... as in the way she caressed me... the first one nicer all haha..... sigh.... im really fucked up lah... so des sometimes............
then went off for more shots...
and went back to look for hwee ye.. but i couldnt find her... met hwee ye frens who was also looking for her...
and thats when it happend... it close... touchy.. very touchy i guess..
cos before i knew it... we were making out..damn................
dont know who started it... but dont think its me... i NEVER did such stuff before.. the most just the touchy part
it was like totally uncalled for...
still can rem a bit of how it felt like i think... it was my first GODDAMN time lah... (i was fucking saving it for some one special maybe?... future gf or smthn....)
pissed but happy at the same time...
my first time... lost it to another of limins class mate also!!!!!!!! found that out the next day
lost it to someone i dont even know or gif a shit bout........
damn sad lah in a way....
but could rem a few things..... it was def frenching...... could feel it.. haha ok ill spare the details...
but i dont know...
its kinda hard to get over........
first time leh......
of course i def enjoyed it...
nice sensation all.......
but dont hink ill be doin it again anytime soon......
still feel like braggin bout it haha.... but i shant....
it was some pretty wicked shit........
next day when i was at my frens place... took of my shirt.....
and i noticed.... a fucking LOVE BITE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
shit man!!!!
luckily it was small and on my collar bone..
how the heel did her lips even get so deep into my shirt?!?!
amazing...
collarbone leh..... you wear any shirt you cant see it!?
then how was that area exposed for her?
my shirt was in perfect condition.. no tears nothing haha..
it was quite red... thats why i noticed it...
told you it was wicked...
luckily it didnt bruise.. and was gone in 3 days...
yup... tats wad happend on the big nite out........
lost my first kiss........ sighs......
but i really had mixed feeling over it...
told myself that i had to lose it by the end of this year... so kinda fulfilled that part..
but was hoping i lost it when i got attached by the end of this year... but dont think thats gonna even happen.......... either.......
and one more thing... i swear i always kena SNGS gals.................
two of them were from SN.........
MATT BOUNCER.... IF YOU EVER get a chance t o mayb read this.... FUCK YOU again.. haha...see wad you can do NEXT YEAR!!!
a girls more wild.. and not as stuck up as rj gals.......
fucking losuy rj gals...............
should just go to a lesbian club next time... la.. stupid fucking bithces...
none of us got chance to dance close........... i think...
i know i didnt get anyone...
all the bitches just dancing in their lesbian circle all...
or round those fucking high profile cute guys(fags)
or they were attached
means one thing.... they didnt fucking drink enuff...... bet they just go there to talk cock say hi to thier frens.. and just dance.. cos mommy say cannot drink all...
but i swear i hate the rj crowd....... so boring...............
everyone just stick to their own groups...... like in school...................
really wanna FUCK RJ sometimes...............
the unlce puts GANJA into the MILO PING....thats why its damn good... but their teh ping tastes like fucking ice lemon tea........"
The ganja in the Milo Ping must have made him deluded.
[Ed: This is Screwed Up Girl's classmate, so you know why he got so screwed up]
Seems I've come across Huihui's cousin. Small world.
"i think my cousin's showed me your website b4... hui jun and hui mei from rjc...know them?"
It seems that people my age don't like me, and those younger than me are amused by me. Perhaps I'm at their mental age :)
Of course, people having nothing better to pick on were grumbling about how disgraceful it was to have chosen Phua Chu Kang to appear on the show instead of some (questionable) alternatives like the Singapore Girl (SIA - Sex In the Air) and Zoe Tay. At least PCK got to say "don't pray pray", probably because this was for a foreign-produced show.
They claimed that locals believe that the Fountain of Wealth's waters bring good luck. What bullshit. I bet they'd just as soon have related the, ah, Legend of the Merlion.
[07/12/02:
LOL
"AHHH!! Major disgrace to RGS. I nearly *fainted* when I heard this. Derek and Drew asked directions to the Zoo from an RGS girl and SHE DIDN'T RECOGNISE THEM!! I could just DIE. If it was me I'd... I'd... I don't know. Apparently Sin Ni's senior just gave them directions, turned around to her other friend and said, "They look familiar." Ahh! How could she? That's the crime of the century!!!"
NB: Apparently this wasn't in the final footage. Oh well.]
A most atypical and surreal way in which someone found Balderdash:
"found it in my sch comp...hahahaha"
wth?! Apparently this page is popular with Raffles Guys. Witness the rave reviews: "Haha Great webbie you got here! Keep it up :D", "hey agagooga, you are the one that visited the rgs gym site too right? haha... been to your sites...it's real funny.."
This person's in both Flesh Parade and Associate Flesh Parade ;) Woah.
[NB: The link to me has mysteriously disappeared, for reasons unknown to men living]
A guy named Shunjing seems to like a guy named Dalglish
Now, where have we heard the latter name before? :)
Comparing the 2 blogs, we come to a very interesting conclusion.
More disturbing RJ rantings on clubbing:
"but my fren had connections.. and soon all of us were getting shots for FREE!!!! woohoo!! hahaha... then i hit the dance floor after checking out this group of gals
tats when i met limins fren...hwee ye...
oh yah.. dunno if i should say this but will anyway..... i really kinda liked the way she was holding me... warm and nice sensual feeling...
serious.... its dumb to say this...but i felt like really loved....... it was seriously nice.. never been touched that way b4... wad was to come later wasnt as nice... serious... as in the way she caressed me... the first one nicer all haha..... sigh.... im really fucked up lah... so des sometimes............
then went off for more shots...
and went back to look for hwee ye.. but i couldnt find her... met hwee ye frens who was also looking for her...
and thats when it happend... it close... touchy.. very touchy i guess..
cos before i knew it... we were making out..damn................
dont know who started it... but dont think its me... i NEVER did such stuff before.. the most just the touchy part
it was like totally uncalled for...
still can rem a bit of how it felt like i think... it was my first GODDAMN time lah... (i was fucking saving it for some one special maybe?... future gf or smthn....)
pissed but happy at the same time...
my first time... lost it to another of limins class mate also!!!!!!!! found that out the next day
lost it to someone i dont even know or gif a shit bout........
damn sad lah in a way....
but could rem a few things..... it was def frenching...... could feel it.. haha ok ill spare the details...
but i dont know...
its kinda hard to get over........
first time leh......
of course i def enjoyed it...
nice sensation all.......
but dont hink ill be doin it again anytime soon......
still feel like braggin bout it haha.... but i shant....
it was some pretty wicked shit........
next day when i was at my frens place... took of my shirt.....
and i noticed.... a fucking LOVE BITE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
shit man!!!!
luckily it was small and on my collar bone..
how the heel did her lips even get so deep into my shirt?!?!
amazing...
collarbone leh..... you wear any shirt you cant see it!?
then how was that area exposed for her?
my shirt was in perfect condition.. no tears nothing haha..
it was quite red... thats why i noticed it...
told you it was wicked...
luckily it didnt bruise.. and was gone in 3 days...
yup... tats wad happend on the big nite out........
lost my first kiss........ sighs......
but i really had mixed feeling over it...
told myself that i had to lose it by the end of this year... so kinda fulfilled that part..
but was hoping i lost it when i got attached by the end of this year... but dont think thats gonna even happen.......... either.......
and one more thing... i swear i always kena SNGS gals.................
two of them were from SN.........
MATT BOUNCER.... IF YOU EVER get a chance t o mayb read this.... FUCK YOU again.. haha...see wad you can do NEXT YEAR!!!
a girls more wild.. and not as stuck up as rj gals.......
fucking losuy rj gals...............
should just go to a lesbian club next time... la.. stupid fucking bithces...
none of us got chance to dance close........... i think...
i know i didnt get anyone...
all the bitches just dancing in their lesbian circle all...
or round those fucking high profile cute guys(fags)
or they were attached
means one thing.... they didnt fucking drink enuff...... bet they just go there to talk cock say hi to thier frens.. and just dance.. cos mommy say cannot drink all...
but i swear i hate the rj crowd....... so boring...............
everyone just stick to their own groups...... like in school...................
really wanna FUCK RJ sometimes...............
the unlce puts GANJA into the MILO PING....thats why its damn good... but their teh ping tastes like fucking ice lemon tea........"
The ganja in the Milo Ping must have made him deluded.
[Ed: This is Screwed Up Girl's classmate, so you know why he got so screwed up]
Seems I've come across Huihui's cousin. Small world.
"i think my cousin's showed me your website b4... hui jun and hui mei from rjc...know them?"
It seems that people my age don't like me, and those younger than me are amused by me. Perhaps I'm at their mental age :)
Post ID: 85537416
Wednesday, December 04, 2002
"Gabriel,
Thank you for your BIOS Upgrade inquiry and contacting eSupport.com, the Exclusive Authorized Upgrade and Support Center for Award BIOS. For 13 years, we have constantly upgraded thousands of motherboards and developed new BIOS Upgrades for all the latest technology. Our BIOS Upgrades are guaranteed to work on your system.
Based on the technical specifications you had
submitted, we have an excellent BIOS Upgrade
for your system. We have the brand new AwardBIOS
for your motherboard. The price is only $24.95 (U.S)."
!@#$%^&*()
I was under the impression that BIOS upgrades were free.
On a side note, I almost forgot to bring my keys with me when I left camp. Bleah.
Thank you for your BIOS Upgrade inquiry and contacting eSupport.com, the Exclusive Authorized Upgrade and Support Center for Award BIOS. For 13 years, we have constantly upgraded thousands of motherboards and developed new BIOS Upgrades for all the latest technology. Our BIOS Upgrades are guaranteed to work on your system.
Based on the technical specifications you had
submitted, we have an excellent BIOS Upgrade
for your system. We have the brand new AwardBIOS
for your motherboard. The price is only $24.95 (U.S)."
!@#$%^&*()
I was under the impression that BIOS upgrades were free.
On a side note, I almost forgot to bring my keys with me when I left camp. Bleah.
Post ID: 85477276
Haven't posted here in a while :) Busy with many things, not the least of which is this:
*shameless plug*
I know Agagooga linked the site earlier, but that was when it wasn't launched yet :) Now it is.
I finally got around to designing my own site / online journal, so i'll mostly be posting there now (yeah, good riddance! :)
Besides it being my online journal though, the site also has the translations of songs Chinx and I have done so far, and *will* (note how I say will - this means sometime in the future :P) contain our translation to Sakura Taisen GB2 when we actually do finish it :P
What else to say... Never played Planescape Torment. Busy with other stuff now, hopefully i'll find some time someday and play the game, which Agagooga is "highly recommending".
Xephyris, signing off. Ja ne. I'll be on Waxin' Lyrical if you guys want to get me for anything.
*shameless plug*
I know Agagooga linked the site earlier, but that was when it wasn't launched yet :) Now it is.
I finally got around to designing my own site / online journal, so i'll mostly be posting there now (yeah, good riddance! :)
Besides it being my online journal though, the site also has the translations of songs Chinx and I have done so far, and *will* (note how I say will - this means sometime in the future :P) contain our translation to Sakura Taisen GB2 when we actually do finish it :P
What else to say... Never played Planescape Torment. Busy with other stuff now, hopefully i'll find some time someday and play the game, which Agagooga is "highly recommending".
Xephyris, signing off. Ja ne. I'll be on Waxin' Lyrical if you guys want to get me for anything.
Post ID: 85474854
Tuesday, December 03, 2002
In the meantime, here are a couple of links
Pretty damned good Torment art.
It's in .. erm.. Hungarian, I think. So there.
Below is a very nice stylized Rune of Torment. It is now my wallpaper at work. The vanilla Rune of Torment on black border I save for home:) (metaphorically apt)
Oh, and I spent 4 hours trying to find a screenshot of the Rune of Torment spell. In vain. Is someone nice enough to play the game and take one for me?
And here's a tres cool poster
Pretty damned good Torment art.
It's in .. erm.. Hungarian, I think. So there.
Below is a very nice stylized Rune of Torment. It is now my wallpaper at work. The vanilla Rune of Torment on black border I save for home:) (metaphorically apt)
Oh, and I spent 4 hours trying to find a screenshot of the Rune of Torment spell. In vain. Is someone nice enough to play the game and take one for me?
And here's a tres cool poster
Post ID: 85383147
Monday, December 02, 2002
Word of the day: "pfffffhhhhtttt" (spellings may vary, depending on your dictionary)
It's official - this blog and blogger.com have been completely blocked off at work. Must be all my frantic attempts to reload and repost everytime an entry gets consumed by the Void.
I expect blogging to diminish considerably from now on, as a result, given that, at home, my priorities are mainly to finish watching VCDs and playing games. Ah well.
In the meantime, some advice for you, Gabriel.
"You have to understand that things like pride, friendships, dignity and acceptance require you to pay way too much attention to pointless trivialities such as the opinions of others."
It's official - this blog and blogger.com have been completely blocked off at work. Must be all my frantic attempts to reload and repost everytime an entry gets consumed by the Void.
I expect blogging to diminish considerably from now on, as a result, given that, at home, my priorities are mainly to finish watching VCDs and playing games. Ah well.
In the meantime, some advice for you, Gabriel.
"You have to understand that things like pride, friendships, dignity and acceptance require you to pay way too much attention to pointless trivialities such as the opinions of others."
Post ID: 85379345
Normally I abhor such stuff, but I was sufficiently intrigued by the notion, the concept, and the result :)
What Type of Seducer are You?
created by
polite_society
Cheers to juwel
Screwed Up Girl is driving me crazy.
She memorised the most screwed up song I've ever heard, emanating from a Unicorn Soft Toy when you squeeze its hooves.
The lyrics go something like:
Hello hello hello hello hello hello how are you?
Hello hello hello hello hello hello how are you?
Thank you thank you I am fine
And I hope that you are too
Hello hello hello hello hello hello how are you?
Hello hello hello hello hello hello how are you?
Thank you thank you I am fine
And I hope that you are too
All sung in a sickly sweet voice reminiscent of the smell of putrefying flesh (I love to use this description)
| I am the Anti-Seducer Seducers draw you in by the focused, individualized attention they pay to you. Anti-seducers are the opposite: insecure, self-absorbed, and unable to grasp the psychology of another person, they literally repel. Anti-Seducers have no self-awareness, and never realise when they are pestering, imposing, talking too much. Root out anti-seductive qualities in yourself, and recognise them in others - there is no pleasure or profit in dealing with the Anti-Seducer. Symbol: The Crab. In a harsh world, the crab survives by its hardened shell, by the threat of its pincers and by burrowing into the sand. No one dares get too close. But the Crab cannot surprise its enemy and has little mobility. Its defensive strength is its supreme limitation. |
What Type of Seducer are You?
created by
polite_society Cheers to juwel
Screwed Up Girl is driving me crazy.
She memorised the most screwed up song I've ever heard, emanating from a Unicorn Soft Toy when you squeeze its hooves.
The lyrics go something like:
Hello hello hello hello hello hello how are you?
Hello hello hello hello hello hello how are you?
Thank you thank you I am fine
And I hope that you are too
Hello hello hello hello hello hello how are you?
Hello hello hello hello hello hello how are you?
Thank you thank you I am fine
And I hope that you are too
All sung in a sickly sweet voice reminiscent of the smell of putrefying flesh (I love to use this description)
Post ID: 85373163
http://straitstimes.asia1.com.sg/life/story/0,4386,158221,00.html?
"Carreras, 56, is, after all, just about the most celebrated opera tenor in the world. Together with two other opera greats, Placido Domingo, 61, and Luciano Pavarotti, 67, they make up the Three Tenors - the Backstreet Boys of the classical musical world"
Suhaila Sulaiman- How could you????!!!!!
"Carreras, 56, is, after all, just about the most celebrated opera tenor in the world. Together with two other opera greats, Placido Domingo, 61, and Luciano Pavarotti, 67, they make up the Three Tenors - the Backstreet Boys of the classical musical world"
Suhaila Sulaiman- How could you????!!!!!
Post ID: 85372485
Celebrity sighting? i heard you can see him if you go down to marine parade- one of the coffee places or something- he's often seen sitting there.
I'll be back in singapore on 12 december!.(will be in adelaide at ocf convention for a week before that- http://www.ocfconvention.org/ )
I'll be back in singapore on 12 december!.(will be in adelaide at ocf convention for a week before that- http://www.ocfconvention.org/ )
Post ID: 85369553
Have finally gotten down to sending Sarinee (who's managed to play even more games than Tim) of The Underdogs the 5 Blood Sword Books. God willing, they will be speedily received and scanned and PDFed and returned to me. Hoorah!
David's last paper was today, so I met with him for a while today. Twas nice catching up with him.
This being Orchard Road, it was inevitable that we'd see people. In Wisma Atria, he saw 2 of his squeaky JC classmates, and in Borders, we ran into Jamin and Caleb.
I was told that Johann's going to wear a tie and a jacket to prom. Without a shirt. Wonder if he'll get thrown out if/when he rips off his jacket during the event :)
Apparently, Alfian Sa'at was, for a while, sitting quite near us. Too bad I missed out on the celebrity sighting.
Especially after a while, I began to feel a touch like the fourth leg on a tripod. Partially because of the Econs S and Lit S - especially the latter - influence on the content and manner of their speech, and partially because Jamin, as usual, was somewhat frosty to me.
The bottom of Far East Plaza, now that Metro has moved out, has been turned into a hotbed of "hot" clothes shops with glitzy apparel, shoes and accessories. The gaudy decorations almost blinded me. Bleah.
In Far East, too, was a shop selling pirated CDs. And pirated DVD movies - a first (that I, the bumpkin that I am, have seen)! Not that I'd watch them, having the facilities to play DVDs only on my computer and not wanting to watch them on my puny 15" LCD screen, but it's nice to have an option.
I'velearnt been forcibly reminded that females hate people making disparaging remarks about their or their friends' appearances (as Chinx graciously tut tut-ed).
"Heh. Its difficult to ever say anything bad about girls and mean it unless u dont mind the shockwave that follows.." - Wise words from Thai Boy.
Discretion is indeed the better part of valour. Bleah.
More generally, I wonder what went wrong when I grew up. Why I alienate people and piss them off. Why I lack tact, discretion and also am poor in assessing characters/personalities/tolerance levels. Why I sometimes have the urge to do certain things, even though cost-benefit analysis would not dictate action, because those things are fun and add a splash of colour to this often monochrome world, though people might be hurt or get pissed off. Not why I am eccentric, because that is interesting and makes for a most un-dreary life.
Equally, I wonder why some people are (hyper)sensitive. Maybe it's just me, being thick skinned, and having a higher tolerance level than others (except for physical pain).
It's impossible for everyone to like you, but I think I rank above only Yaodong in that area.
9:16PM:
To put it in a clearer perspective:
"see that's what you don't get
your perception of things are VASTLY different from everyone else's
if you walked up to someone and told them, hey your dress sense sucks, OF COURSE they'd be insulted. if you can't understand why they would be, then you really have a problem."
Okay. It's just like #1-#7. I really don't think there's anything wrong with being ugly, but most people think that there is.
9:35PM:
And then again:
"so you're wrong for expressing a personal opinion?
I don't get about your friend's line of argument."
Andrew tells me he can only see the Fortunecity logo where pictures are supposed to be on this blog, but everyone else tells me they can see the proper pictures. Argh. Argh.
New link icon:
And go look at this
David's last paper was today, so I met with him for a while today. Twas nice catching up with him.
This being Orchard Road, it was inevitable that we'd see people. In Wisma Atria, he saw 2 of his squeaky JC classmates, and in Borders, we ran into Jamin and Caleb.
I was told that Johann's going to wear a tie and a jacket to prom. Without a shirt. Wonder if he'll get thrown out if/when he rips off his jacket during the event :)
Apparently, Alfian Sa'at was, for a while, sitting quite near us. Too bad I missed out on the celebrity sighting.
Especially after a while, I began to feel a touch like the fourth leg on a tripod. Partially because of the Econs S and Lit S - especially the latter - influence on the content and manner of their speech, and partially because Jamin, as usual, was somewhat frosty to me.
The bottom of Far East Plaza, now that Metro has moved out, has been turned into a hotbed of "hot" clothes shops with glitzy apparel, shoes and accessories. The gaudy decorations almost blinded me. Bleah.
In Far East, too, was a shop selling pirated CDs. And pirated DVD movies - a first (that I, the bumpkin that I am, have seen)! Not that I'd watch them, having the facilities to play DVDs only on my computer and not wanting to watch them on my puny 15" LCD screen, but it's nice to have an option.
I've
"Heh. Its difficult to ever say anything bad about girls and mean it unless u dont mind the shockwave that follows.." - Wise words from Thai Boy.
Discretion is indeed the better part of valour. Bleah.
More generally, I wonder what went wrong when I grew up. Why I alienate people and piss them off. Why I lack tact, discretion and also am poor in assessing characters/personalities/tolerance levels. Why I sometimes have the urge to do certain things, even though cost-benefit analysis would not dictate action, because those things are fun and add a splash of colour to this often monochrome world, though people might be hurt or get pissed off. Not why I am eccentric, because that is interesting and makes for a most un-dreary life.
Equally, I wonder why some people are (hyper)sensitive. Maybe it's just me, being thick skinned, and having a higher tolerance level than others (except for physical pain).
It's impossible for everyone to like you, but I think I rank above only Yaodong in that area.
9:16PM:
To put it in a clearer perspective:
"see that's what you don't get
your perception of things are VASTLY different from everyone else's
if you walked up to someone and told them, hey your dress sense sucks, OF COURSE they'd be insulted. if you can't understand why they would be, then you really have a problem."
Okay. It's just like #1-#7. I really don't think there's anything wrong with being ugly, but most people think that there is.
9:35PM:
And then again:
"so you're wrong for expressing a personal opinion?
I don't get about your friend's line of argument."
Andrew tells me he can only see the Fortunecity logo where pictures are supposed to be on this blog, but everyone else tells me they can see the proper pictures. Argh. Argh.
New link icon:
And go look at this
Post ID: 85368852
Off the Raymond E Feist FAQ:
Are Kulgan and Meecham a gay couple?
From: "Raymond E. Feist"
Date: Mon, 18 Nov 1996 09:56:07 -0800
Subject: Re: Behavior or genes?
Kulgan and Meecham were characters I didn't wish to create controversy with, rather just let them live together in the woods and have Meecham disapear when Kulgan died. If you reread their exchanges, especially in Silverthorn, you can see a hint of a couple, rather than a man and servant as was publicly their roles. But two old guys living together in the woods for 20+ years? Ya, roomates.
LOL
What would happen if someone were to name their child Nalar?
> From: "Raymond E. Feist"
> Date: Thu, 10 Apr 1997 09:45:22 -0800
> Subject: Re: [spoiler]Names
They wouldn't. It wouldn't occur to anyone; the gods would see to that. It would be subtle. Someone might begin to think the name, but somehow it would change to "Nolar," or "Nelor," and then they'd think, "Why don't I just name the kid 'Rectal Itch' or 'Seeping Boil?'" and they'd get rid of the idea. There are fail safes built into the system.
Haha.
How come each chapter in REF's books starts like "The Storm Broke"?
> From: "Raymond E. Feist"
> Date: Wed, 10 Sep 1997 14:12:00 -0700
> Subject: Re: Stylistic query for REF
It was just something I tried with Magician that seemed to stick. Every chapter but one (I think it's 24 in Mistress) starts that way. Janny and I blew it in that one instance. Anyway, we did it with the Empire stuff because it's related. Faere Tale, on the other hand, doesn't have that, neither will any other non-Midkemian related books.
This is a very irritating quirk of the Midkemia books. All the chapters start with something like: "Pug ran", "Eric grimaced" or that sort of thing.
Is Tsurani culture based on Japanese culture?
From: "Raymond E. Feist"
Date: Wed, 18 Feb 1998 07:07:15 -0800
Subject: Re: Tsurani
Japan during the Tokagawa Shogunate, China during the Sung Dynasty, Korea for some of the cultural window dressing, a touch of Zulu from before the Zulu-Boer War, and a couple of things I cribbed from the Aztecs. Mix well, stir, and pour.
Other excerpts:
""Feist stuck his girlfriend's name on the book" deal, or any of the other things people have said over the years. As to the last, Janny was never my girlfriend, so I don't know where that one started."
Are Kulgan and Meecham a gay couple?
From: "Raymond E. Feist"
Date: Mon, 18 Nov 1996 09:56:07 -0800
Subject: Re: Behavior or genes?
Kulgan and Meecham were characters I didn't wish to create controversy with, rather just let them live together in the woods and have Meecham disapear when Kulgan died. If you reread their exchanges, especially in Silverthorn, you can see a hint of a couple, rather than a man and servant as was publicly their roles. But two old guys living together in the woods for 20+ years? Ya, roomates.
LOL
What would happen if someone were to name their child Nalar?
> From: "Raymond E. Feist"
> Date: Thu, 10 Apr 1997 09:45:22 -0800
> Subject: Re: [spoiler]Names
They wouldn't. It wouldn't occur to anyone; the gods would see to that. It would be subtle. Someone might begin to think the name, but somehow it would change to "Nolar," or "Nelor," and then they'd think, "Why don't I just name the kid 'Rectal Itch' or 'Seeping Boil?'" and they'd get rid of the idea. There are fail safes built into the system.
Haha.
How come each chapter in REF's books starts like "The Storm Broke"?
> From: "Raymond E. Feist"
> Date: Wed, 10 Sep 1997 14:12:00 -0700
> Subject: Re: Stylistic query for REF
It was just something I tried with Magician that seemed to stick. Every chapter but one (I think it's 24 in Mistress) starts that way. Janny and I blew it in that one instance. Anyway, we did it with the Empire stuff because it's related. Faere Tale, on the other hand, doesn't have that, neither will any other non-Midkemian related books.
This is a very irritating quirk of the Midkemia books. All the chapters start with something like: "Pug ran", "Eric grimaced" or that sort of thing.
Is Tsurani culture based on Japanese culture?
From: "Raymond E. Feist"
Date: Wed, 18 Feb 1998 07:07:15 -0800
Subject: Re: Tsurani
Japan during the Tokagawa Shogunate, China during the Sung Dynasty, Korea for some of the cultural window dressing, a touch of Zulu from before the Zulu-Boer War, and a couple of things I cribbed from the Aztecs. Mix well, stir, and pour.
Other excerpts:
""Feist stuck his girlfriend's name on the book" deal, or any of the other things people have said over the years. As to the last, Janny was never my girlfriend, so I don't know where that one started."
Post ID: 85354819
Sunday, December 01, 2002
"somehow it excites you to see people disturbed and distraught and you feed on their discomfort"
Right.
"(26 Nov 2002) HOMEX will be closing its services by 31st December 2002. Please transfer your homepage files to another homepage hosting service as all of our members' homepage files will be deleted by then."
Damn. I need a provider that allows hot linking of images!
Till then:
Finally! I've been looking high and low for this - the mark etched on my skin since the start of BMT, because of all my tribulations, and only starting to drop off gradually. And all I had to do along was use Google's Image Search. Silly me.
And I made a link icon (since Xephyris suggested I needed one) with it:
And without:
I like Kidprint.
Nice and simple icons, but I can hear strains of the cacophonic chorus from He Who Must Not Be Named already.
Courtesy of He Who Must Not Be Named:
Made some tweaks to the sidebar and the titlebar. Yeh. Looks good.
Right.
"(26 Nov 2002) HOMEX will be closing its services by 31st December 2002. Please transfer your homepage files to another homepage hosting service as all of our members' homepage files will be deleted by then."
Damn. I need a provider that allows hot linking of images!
Till then:
Finally! I've been looking high and low for this - the mark etched on my skin since the start of BMT, because of all my tribulations, and only starting to drop off gradually. And all I had to do along was use Google's Image Search. Silly me.
And I made a link icon (since Xephyris suggested I needed one) with it:
And without:
I like Kidprint.
Nice and simple icons, but I can hear strains of the cacophonic chorus from He Who Must Not Be Named already.
Courtesy of He Who Must Not Be Named:
Made some tweaks to the sidebar and the titlebar. Yeh. Looks good.
Post ID: 85332476
Some people like to follow the letter of the book(s), to the exclusion, even of following the spirit. Surely you cannot lay down 1001 timeless principles down. Of course some will be universally applicable, but most times, you have to be flexible.
The debacle of the Ms World riots in Nigeria is really ridiculous. More than 200 people dying because of mere words. And innocent words at that:
"The Muslims thought it was immoral to bring 92 women to Nigeria to ask them to revel in vanity. What would Muhammad think? In all honesty, he would probably have chosen a wife from one of them."
I think that a pretty decent and frank statement. Please see: List of Prophet Muhammad's Wives. He had 11 wives. That's almost 3 times as many as normal Muslim men are allowed. It's no wonder that Ms Magazine is featuring Isioma Daniel, the writer in its "Women of the Year" issue in December. Maybe the rioters were too hungry. Apparently 10,000 people have died in similar riots there since 1999. Oh well. Hyper sensitivity is never good. If you're not happy about something, or feel that it is insulting or otherwise, refute it with logic instead of killing people or censorship. If you do that, you're only showing that you have something to hide - the truth, maybe?
Obsession with memorising and quoting the Koran, Hadith and what not is not very healthy.
"Unfortunately what Muslims follow today has nothing to do with "Submission" preached by Abraham and Muhammad. They are following a religion never authorized by God : They divided the religion of "Submission" in to so many different sects, such as, Shi'a, Sunny, Ismaili, Hanbaly, Bahaii, and .... they follow two books, made by human and satan, "Hadith" (what Muhammad said), and "Sunna" (what Muhammad did), instead of following the Quran, the true word of God. They are Idolizing prophet Muhammad against his will, and asking dead saints for health and happiness. They are following the religious leaders instead of following the teaching of God in the Quran. They are nulifying their daily prayers by adding Muhammad's name beside the name of God, nullifying their Hajj pilgrimage by inventing the second Sacred Mosque (Muhammad's tomb). The religious practices that are performed by Muslims is not keeping with teachings of the Quran, such as, paying their charity, fasting, covering the women from head to toe, cutting off the hand of a thief, stoning the one's who commit adultery, killing the none Muslim, and .... The duties of Submission provided by God in the Quran have been nullified by such Muslims that are following a religious path that has not been authorized by God. Becasue of these fanatical followers of misguided teaching, the true nations of Submitters are misrepresented in the eyes of the world. That is why Islam and Muslims around the world have labels like, Terrorist, the Violent people the skew the worlds perceptions of the true nature of Submitters. That is how so called Islamic societies brought disasters upon themselves and they are among the most unhappiest nations in the world."
Rashad Khalifa, PhD (I think)
The Mists of Avalon, by the late Marion Zimmer Bradley, is replete with many concepts, ideas and passages which are conceivably blasphemous to the Christian faith, and bigoted, irrational and xenophobic priests are made to look stupid. Yet, she died in 1999 of a heart attack, not blown up by a suicide bomber, because people know that it's just fiction. Now if only Salman Rushdie could stick his head above ground... [Incidentally, I've tried to plough through his book. I don't know about blasphemous, but it is singularly boring. I wonder if Ayatollah Khomenei ever read it]
The debacle of the Ms World riots in Nigeria is really ridiculous. More than 200 people dying because of mere words. And innocent words at that:
"The Muslims thought it was immoral to bring 92 women to Nigeria to ask them to revel in vanity. What would Muhammad think? In all honesty, he would probably have chosen a wife from one of them."
I think that a pretty decent and frank statement. Please see: List of Prophet Muhammad's Wives. He had 11 wives. That's almost 3 times as many as normal Muslim men are allowed. It's no wonder that Ms Magazine is featuring Isioma Daniel, the writer in its "Women of the Year" issue in December. Maybe the rioters were too hungry. Apparently 10,000 people have died in similar riots there since 1999. Oh well. Hyper sensitivity is never good. If you're not happy about something, or feel that it is insulting or otherwise, refute it with logic instead of killing people or censorship. If you do that, you're only showing that you have something to hide - the truth, maybe?
Obsession with memorising and quoting the Koran, Hadith and what not is not very healthy.
"Unfortunately what Muslims follow today has nothing to do with "Submission" preached by Abraham and Muhammad. They are following a religion never authorized by God : They divided the religion of "Submission" in to so many different sects, such as, Shi'a, Sunny, Ismaili, Hanbaly, Bahaii, and .... they follow two books, made by human and satan, "Hadith" (what Muhammad said), and "Sunna" (what Muhammad did), instead of following the Quran, the true word of God. They are Idolizing prophet Muhammad against his will, and asking dead saints for health and happiness. They are following the religious leaders instead of following the teaching of God in the Quran. They are nulifying their daily prayers by adding Muhammad's name beside the name of God, nullifying their Hajj pilgrimage by inventing the second Sacred Mosque (Muhammad's tomb). The religious practices that are performed by Muslims is not keeping with teachings of the Quran, such as, paying their charity, fasting, covering the women from head to toe, cutting off the hand of a thief, stoning the one's who commit adultery, killing the none Muslim, and .... The duties of Submission provided by God in the Quran have been nullified by such Muslims that are following a religious path that has not been authorized by God. Becasue of these fanatical followers of misguided teaching, the true nations of Submitters are misrepresented in the eyes of the world. That is why Islam and Muslims around the world have labels like, Terrorist, the Violent people the skew the worlds perceptions of the true nature of Submitters. That is how so called Islamic societies brought disasters upon themselves and they are among the most unhappiest nations in the world."
Rashad Khalifa, PhD (I think)
The Mists of Avalon, by the late Marion Zimmer Bradley, is replete with many concepts, ideas and passages which are conceivably blasphemous to the Christian faith, and bigoted, irrational and xenophobic priests are made to look stupid. Yet, she died in 1999 of a heart attack, not blown up by a suicide bomber, because people know that it's just fiction. Now if only Salman Rushdie could stick his head above ground... [Incidentally, I've tried to plough through his book. I don't know about blasphemous, but it is singularly boring. I wonder if Ayatollah Khomenei ever read it]
Post ID: 85328460
Word of the post: "candour"
*bleep*
On Saturday we had a 5km run at East Coast and I was doing cover. While there I saw Aravind and Simon from SMM. Busy place, East Coast is, ranking up there with Orchard and Suntec. West Coast... now that's someplace few people go. I remember going to a beach on the West Coast, and the sand was black. Erk.
Quotes:
[Tim to me on going online in camp] Yeah, why don't you... [Gabriel coughs] Oh, okay.
[On wrong directions from a RP and getting lost while looking for the SOC ground in MINDEF] Hor lan / Holland liao. I tell you - never ever trust Mat. (a Mat)
Excellance in Service (Excellence) [Ed: Apparently not excellance (sic) in spelling]
I saw him this way. I also got a shiok (and I, shock)
Last time, they asked the driver, 1 times 3 tonner - tear it down... Down to the screw [and rebuild it]... This was in the 17th century (1970s)
S4 and I were disgusting (discussing)
Your CSM don't turn around the bush (doesn't beat)
Gabriel, you look like the fyour'nix in Harry Potter (Phoenix)
Totally there is 8 persons (In total, are)
*bleep*
On Saturday we had a 5km run at East Coast and I was doing cover. While there I saw Aravind and Simon from SMM. Busy place, East Coast is, ranking up there with Orchard and Suntec. West Coast... now that's someplace few people go. I remember going to a beach on the West Coast, and the sand was black. Erk.
Quotes:
[Tim to me on going online in camp] Yeah, why don't you... [Gabriel coughs] Oh, okay.
[On wrong directions from a RP and getting lost while looking for the SOC ground in MINDEF] Hor lan / Holland liao. I tell you - never ever trust Mat. (a Mat)
Excellance in Service (Excellence) [Ed: Apparently not excellance (sic) in spelling]
I saw him this way. I also got a shiok (and I, shock)
Last time, they asked the driver, 1 times 3 tonner - tear it down... Down to the screw [and rebuild it]... This was in the 17th century (1970s)
S4 and I were disgusting (discussing)
Your CSM don't turn around the bush (doesn't beat)
Gabriel, you look like the fyour'nix in Harry Potter (Phoenix)
Totally there is 8 persons (In total, are)
Post ID: 85326828
Editor's note: I will now, depending on the vagaries of my whims, post words of the post, like The Associate. Unlike him, though, I will not resort to posting obsolete, medical or technical jargon, mostly foreign words, or words so obscure no one could possibly know or use them.
Word of the post: "wanton"
I was supposed to meet Tim last Sunday but his parents didn't allow him to go out because of the lightning. Anyhow, I passed the memory chip to his brother and have gotten a new one - but the problem persists. So I'm now trying to get my BIOS updated. Now if they'd just reply to my form submission...
I maintain, as I always have, that chequered shirts and blouses = tablecloths. I've not seen an exception to this rule to date.
The Straits Times School Pocket Money fund has been relentlessly campaigning for donations. The principle is good, really, but I would like to see some statistics detailing how the money is given out. I suspect that most of it is given to families which are very poor and which have 4, 6, 12 or even more children. Now, if you are poor, you have no business bringing so many children into this world, when you cannot provide for them. 2 if fine, 3 even. But once you get into double digit figures, one wonders if we're creating a moral hazard by being kind.
Some people have long memories. A Mr Tan Kim Hock wrote in, to complain about Jack Neo's holding of "Wah lao" to be a Singaporean export we can be justifiably proud about, referring to his letter dated May 1995. Must've been a high point in his life. Actually if they accepted my letter I'd probably be rather pleased too, seeing how hard it is to get into those pages.
I am never drinking Carlsberg Beer. Not that I'd drink beer, or any alcohol, but their damn ad has pissed me off royally. I wonder if they know that their campaign hit diminishing returns long ago.
Thought on covering bodies overly much:
'"No," he said. I would like to climb straight up the slope - but" - he hesitated - "is it too long and steep for a girl? I have climbed in rougher country, hunting, but can you manage in your long skirts?"
She laughed and told him that she had climbed often. "And as for the skirts, I am used to them," she said, "but if they get into my way I will not hesitate to tuck them up above my knees."
Morgaine flushed. "I have never thought modesty had much to do with bared legs for climbing - surely men know that women have legs like their own. It cannot be so much of an offense of modesty to see what they must be able to imagine. I know some of the Christian priests speak so, but they seem to think the human body is the work of some devil, not of God, and that no one could possibly see a woman's body without going all into a rage to possess it."' --- Marion Zimmer Bradley. The Mists of Avalon, Pg 149. Del Rey, 2001.
The compulsion to make women cover themselves is actually an admission of weakness on the part of men, so why should women have to cover themselves from head to toe just because of the weakness of a few - okay, many - men?
Some other people whose letter got rejected by the forum (On the initially simplistic stayer-quitter matter)
"For instance, when we made our film, we sincerely wanted to reflect the speech of regular Singaporeans accurately, rather than the polished and ersatz dialogue on TV. Yet, this led us to a full-on collision with various authorities who disapproved of us using dialect or Singlish, the low point of which was having the Singapore Broadcast Authority yank our 15 second TV trailer off the air for having "excessive dialect and Singlish", when last we heard, Singlish itself, while discouraged by some, wasn't illegal in itself. We note with some interest that PM Goh's own use of Hokkien and Singlish during his address wasn't cut."
I suspect the main reason it was rejected, really, was its length :)
They're closing GEP in RI, RGS and the Communist Boys' School, and stopping supplementary intake too. I'm gonna become an anachronism - doubly so. Eeks. I wonder if GEP can survive without Raffles. "I just hope they'll stop gep soon so I can go on knowing i was part of something exclusive. I shudder that cedar or st. Nicks will replace raffles."
Quotes:
[Mother to me] The Pioneer magazine will do a feature on you - the mad serviceman who brings soft toys to the army
[Tourist from Brunei in the Forum] If you don't like what I said and want to sue me, too bad.I am going home on Sunday.
Word of the post: "wanton"
I was supposed to meet Tim last Sunday but his parents didn't allow him to go out because of the lightning. Anyhow, I passed the memory chip to his brother and have gotten a new one - but the problem persists. So I'm now trying to get my BIOS updated. Now if they'd just reply to my form submission...
I maintain, as I always have, that chequered shirts and blouses = tablecloths. I've not seen an exception to this rule to date.
The Straits Times School Pocket Money fund has been relentlessly campaigning for donations. The principle is good, really, but I would like to see some statistics detailing how the money is given out. I suspect that most of it is given to families which are very poor and which have 4, 6, 12 or even more children. Now, if you are poor, you have no business bringing so many children into this world, when you cannot provide for them. 2 if fine, 3 even. But once you get into double digit figures, one wonders if we're creating a moral hazard by being kind.
Some people have long memories. A Mr Tan Kim Hock wrote in, to complain about Jack Neo's holding of "Wah lao" to be a Singaporean export we can be justifiably proud about, referring to his letter dated May 1995. Must've been a high point in his life. Actually if they accepted my letter I'd probably be rather pleased too, seeing how hard it is to get into those pages.
I am never drinking Carlsberg Beer. Not that I'd drink beer, or any alcohol, but their damn ad has pissed me off royally. I wonder if they know that their campaign hit diminishing returns long ago.
Thought on covering bodies overly much:
'"No," he said. I would like to climb straight up the slope - but" - he hesitated - "is it too long and steep for a girl? I have climbed in rougher country, hunting, but can you manage in your long skirts?"
She laughed and told him that she had climbed often. "And as for the skirts, I am used to them," she said, "but if they get into my way I will not hesitate to tuck them up above my knees."
Morgaine flushed. "I have never thought modesty had much to do with bared legs for climbing - surely men know that women have legs like their own. It cannot be so much of an offense of modesty to see what they must be able to imagine. I know some of the Christian priests speak so, but they seem to think the human body is the work of some devil, not of God, and that no one could possibly see a woman's body without going all into a rage to possess it."' --- Marion Zimmer Bradley. The Mists of Avalon, Pg 149. Del Rey, 2001.
The compulsion to make women cover themselves is actually an admission of weakness on the part of men, so why should women have to cover themselves from head to toe just because of the weakness of a few - okay, many - men?
Some other people whose letter got rejected by the forum (On the initially simplistic stayer-quitter matter)
"For instance, when we made our film, we sincerely wanted to reflect the speech of regular Singaporeans accurately, rather than the polished and ersatz dialogue on TV. Yet, this led us to a full-on collision with various authorities who disapproved of us using dialect or Singlish, the low point of which was having the Singapore Broadcast Authority yank our 15 second TV trailer off the air for having "excessive dialect and Singlish", when last we heard, Singlish itself, while discouraged by some, wasn't illegal in itself. We note with some interest that PM Goh's own use of Hokkien and Singlish during his address wasn't cut."
I suspect the main reason it was rejected, really, was its length :)
They're closing GEP in RI, RGS and the Communist Boys' School, and stopping supplementary intake too. I'm gonna become an anachronism - doubly so. Eeks. I wonder if GEP can survive without Raffles. "I just hope they'll stop gep soon so I can go on knowing i was part of something exclusive. I shudder that cedar or st. Nicks will replace raffles."
Quotes:
[Mother to me] The Pioneer magazine will do a feature on you - the mad serviceman who brings soft toys to the army
[Tourist from Brunei in the Forum] If you don't like what I said and want to sue me, too bad.I am going home on Sunday.
Post ID: 85326825
Update to earlier post:
"Ephesians is not a letter written to Western marriages! It is a letter written to Christians who were living in a culture where marriage was a type of slavery. Young teens were wedded to middle-aged men in order to bear them a legal heir. It is difficult for us to imagine the level of degradation and hopelessness these young wives must have experienced... perhaps more than the slaves. Paul was not intending to set up gender hierarchy in marriage in these passages any more than he was endorsing slavery by encouraging slaves to submit to their masters. He was simply referring to the slavery and male headship that was already a part of their secular culture."
"Ephesians is not a letter written to Western marriages! It is a letter written to Christians who were living in a culture where marriage was a type of slavery. Young teens were wedded to middle-aged men in order to bear them a legal heir. It is difficult for us to imagine the level of degradation and hopelessness these young wives must have experienced... perhaps more than the slaves. Paul was not intending to set up gender hierarchy in marriage in these passages any more than he was endorsing slavery by encouraging slaves to submit to their masters. He was simply referring to the slavery and male headship that was already a part of their secular culture."
Post ID: 85324142
Might I interest anyone in assorted shots of fashion disasters *bleep* Oh, and an inane shot of a hairpiece. Half of them scanned in horizontally instead of vertically. And numerous lessons in the miracles of padding.
Oh I really shouldn't. *bleep*
The next time I have any say, however small, in a cross dressing stint (not as the model, of course), I am going to try to prevent their preferences for the "cheap slut" look from manifesting. Erk.
Glossary:
*bleep* - Deleted.
Oh I really shouldn't. *bleep*
The next time I have any say, however small, in a cross dressing stint (not as the model, of course), I am going to try to prevent their preferences for the "cheap slut" look from manifesting. Erk.
Glossary:
*bleep* - Deleted.
Post ID: 85323894
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