samedi 13 juin 2009

imprinting

“The Earth is the cradle of the mind, but one cannot stay in the cradle forever.”
-- Konstantin Tsiolkovsky

***

Gexin saw the Old Man’s hands. Venturing forth from his suit, they were tough and sinewy, and their veins gripped his skin like iron chains. Stains of discolouration and lines of creases bore testament to a vigour slowly withering away, but they receded underneath his skin whenever he readjusted his grip on his pen. As the Old Man continued writing, Gexin took occasional glances at the streaks of white on the underside of his arms -- the only hints of tenderness. In some ways, the Old Man’s hands were a perfect extension of his face. But his face occasionally broke out into smiles. His hands never smiled.

The Old Man had finished penning, and there was a momentary stare of silence as the ballpoint ceased its frictions against the surface of the paper.

“Sign here, please.” He sighed as Gexin cautiously took the pen from him. “What happened to you, my dear Gexin? You used to be so well-behaved. Did we fail you? Or is this your hidden nature?”

Gexin remembered this office from years back: its old tomes and ancient cedar; the sunlight that could only peek in; the electric candles that cast many shadows. Once it had seemed so vast – vast in its imposition, vast in its majesty, vast in its ability to induce fear. But now he was a little taller, a little more cynical, and the office seemed a little smaller, a little more suffocating. The awards and distinctions that decorated the office now somehow seemed less monumental, less – what was the word? Less superhuman.

“Perhaps it’s because I grew up sir.”

The Old Man frowned. But the youth’s expression did not waver.

***

vendredi 3 octobre 2008

X for Congress. Bring change! Take on Washington!

Ah, behold the Collective, bereft of individuality, subservient to the lowest common denominator, hated by Ayn Rand. It is the "Power" to fight against; the "Man" to stick it to, the "Establishment" that must be disestablished. It is full of antipathy, nonchalance about social ills, myopic self-interest, and entrenched corruption. It is powerful, repressive, monolithic -- the reason why "Government" has a capital G.

Yet, what is the source of the Collective's evil, stubbornness and malice? Who exactly makes up "the political machine"? What is the root entity responsible for the Collective's actions? Is it Bush? Pelosi? Lee Kuan Yew? Why does Iraq proliferate with violence even after Saddam has been long hung?

It is election season in the United States. Everyone is clamouring for change; with the spectacular collapse of some of the biggest financial firms, everyone is collectively applauding the increasing misfortune of everyone on Wall Street. Rightly deserved, those scumbag i-bankers and CEOs! Stick it to the man! Stickkkk ittttt! And in this weeks' debates, if it was not already observed long ago, we see that both Obama and McCain are competing as reformers. Obama will apparently fight for change we can believe in; McCain the Maverick will deal Big Oil (a decidedly evil Collective) a crushing blow in Washington. Governor Palin, mayor, Miss Alaska, and soccer-mom, spent much of yesterday's VP debate stressing how she intends to address the plight of the average middle-class American, tackling the Big Guys (that oh-so-evil Collective) in the political arena.

Then today I saw one of those posters outside Newcomb Dining Hall -- we should apparently cast some vote for a fresh face I've never heard of for Representative in order to take on Washington. There's something romantic about the idea -- romantically quixotic.

But how did it come, do you think, that the capital of a nation, named after its first commander-in-chief, painstakingly-planned and meant to be a prestigious cornerstone, is also used as a symbol of the greed, degeneration, and repression of the evil Collective? Take on Washington, the White House, the Fed. We must take it on, because the majority of people running the country thus far are adversaries to be defeated; we must hand the Collective's ass over to it, subjugate it totally, destroy it. Lenin would be proud, for he advocated that the machinery of the State should be totally suppressed.

The strange thing is, everyone is clamouring to disestablish the Establishment. Everyone wishes to fight the Power. Everyone thinks there is an institutional evil that must be broken. Truly, The Man must be very cunning and insidious, for it prevails even when everyone is against it!

Indeed, the insidious nature of The Man -- the evil Collective -- can be best seen when it prevails in the most unstable times. No matter how many times its secret police ravages the streets, it rules -- even when its own agents fight each other or get purged. Its original founders, who were once vicious and powerful themselves, fall and are removed from power -- but the Party, the epitome of the evil Collective, rumbles on like a tank, its viciousness never ceasing, not even with the death of the power broker Mao Zedong. Perhaps the Party's evil is really due to the Gang of Four? No, because the Party suddenly decides to cease following the orders of the Gang of Four, choosing to arrest them such that Hua Guofeng now rules. But is the Party's power controlled by him? Nay, for Hu Yaobang succeeds him, and then in turn by Zhao Ziyang; and despite all their sweeping reforms as the Collective's leaders, their power too, proves insignificant in the face of the evil Collective.

The agency behind their removal is always omnipotent: they are arrested, deposed, exiled, fallen out of favour; the downfall caused by the same dark Cloud that also hung over that prominent member of the Inner Party that Winston is asked to discredit. Surely then, the true source of the Party's evil must be Deng Xiaoping, who reveals his power behind the throne as he works to oust Zhao Ziyang, his own disciple. But nay, Deng Xiaoping dies -- and the Party continues to rule iron-fisted. The evil Collective insidiously penetrates governments all over the world, for despite the death of Ivan IV the Terrible, despite the removal of the Romanovs, despite the passing of Stalin and Lenin, despite the CCCP's fall -- the corruption and violence of the mobster government that everyone hates persists.

The story really began in the middle sixties, the period of the great purges in which the original leaders of the Revolution were wiped out once and for all. By 1970 none of them was left, except Big Brother himself. All the rest had by that time been exposed as traitors and counter-revolutionaries .... A few had simply disappeared, while the majority had been executed after spectacular public trials at which they made confession of their crimes.


(Nineteen-Eighty-Four, part 1 ch. 7)


Here the omnipotence of the Collective is truly frightening -- it has the ability to transcend and destroy its own architects. How then does it come to pass that an institution can be the adversary of all its members, and yet stand as powerful as ever? Is there something magical about the union of individuals and the social contract they form, that gives rise to a magical hydra-ish organism that thrives as an ethereal entity that haunts all its members, suppressing individualism, silencing dissent and inhibiting independent thought?

Perhaps a better metaphor would be centrifugal force. It is a strange kind of force, for it appears out of nowhere on the whole, even when it doesn't show up on individual free body diagrams. It is almost like a "phantom" force. But those who are familiar with physics know that no law of physics is being violated, for the problem is one of perspective; outside the collective system, one can see how each individual member of the Collective, defending their own self-interest, individually imposes a penalty on everyone, generating a force that pushes the collective towards common suffering; but when the Collective is the reference frame that the observer is in, it appears that a phantom force is causing everyone misery. It is a malevolent form of the invisible hand -- but it has no will of its own; it is merely the sum of the individual wills of others.

And so, we return to take on Washington. In Washington D.C., there are no gun battles, no secret police besides the Secret Service, no purges, coups or hangings. And yet all the candidates treat Washington like a battlefield. Bring change to America -- vote for me and I will fight the cronies in Washington! Yet nearly every Congressman promises that to his or her constituents in one form or other. Perhaps it has not occurred to them that they are all fighting against each other.

There is no question that there is institutional evil, corruption, inefficiency and incompetence. But to try to fight it with an "us versus them" attitude, treating everyone else in the institution as an adversary, only contributes to the institutional forces that appear to commonly repress everyone. The problems of Collectives are not inherent to Collectives themselves. There is nothing inherently bad about a union of individuals. No, they are ultimately due to all the individuals that comprise and participate in them. It only seems that individualism disappears when collectively grouped, and this makes it much easier to attack inhuman collective entities (or certain prominent leaders) as the problem, without having to judge the actions of ourselves and individual peers. Society is a fraud, they say. But aren't you part of it?

mardi 29 juillet 2008

à la folie ... pas du tout

Remember your Creator in the days of your youth, before the days of trouble come and the years approach when you will say, "I find no pleasure in them." (Ecclesiastes, 12:1)

***

Le sablier s'écoule. Il y a tant à faire et tellement peu de temps pour le faire, avant la Mort!

mais t'es toujours jeune ... t'inquiètes pas!
[un sourire réservé]
apprends à apprécier la vie .... vas-y 'mollo'. y'a pas besoin d'aller tellement vite dans la vie.


Mais, je l'apprécie vraiment! C'est tout simplement que je regrette que j'ais perdu tant de temps quand je suis plus jeune. Vous connaissez le sentiment qu'on regarde ses copains et on les envie...

ben -- tu t'es déjà attendu à c'que je le connaisse! tu comprends alors que c'sentiment n'est pas étrange pour tout l'monde!

Etes-vous comme tout le monde?

[un rire, doux mais prolongé]
on est humain -- c'est tout qui est important.

Votre réponse ne m'aide pas beaucoup.

c'est normal qu'un jeune se compare à tout l'monde. c'est même sain ... mais tu vois, t'es pas défini par tes pairs, seulement par toi-même--

Tout le monde dit cela! Cela devient un peu de cliché!

clichés ont souvent des vérités ...

Moi, je les déteste.

Les clichés? Ou les vérités?

... [la silence]

ah tu vois, que je sois vieux n'implique pas que j'ais cessé de jouer!

Jouer, oui, ne pensez pas que j'ais oublié comment jouer!

ben, c'est reciproque.

Ou étais-je? Ah, oui. Le sablier s'écoule...

Et ... et j'ai peur que j'ai passé la période critique pour tant de choses critiques. C'est ma vraie inquiétude. Je m'inquiète précisement parce que la jeunesse ne dure pas long et je vois me fuir chaque jour. Je vois devenir adulte moi et mes amis. Imaginez! Nous ... sommes en train de devenir comme nos parents! Ne riez pas ... cela me fait peur. Pourquoi les adultes cessent de faire la fête? Je sais que je ne peux pas rester innocent à jamais! C'est amusant, être précoce. Mais on ne peut pas rester toujours précoce, car la Nature nous fait grandir... ma peur c'est que je ne pourrai pas m'amuser amplement, et maintenant je crains que ce soit trop tard pour apprécier la compagnie des amis précoces...

...alors, qu'en pensez-vous?

***

mardi 3 juin 2008

en attendant le changement (de régime)

Let's go.

We can't.

Why not?

We're waiting for Reform.

Ah! What'll we do, what'll we do!

Wait. Hope.

But I can't go on like this! You're sure it was here?

What?

That we were to wait.

They said by the tree. Do you see any others?

What is it?

I don't know. It must be the Tree of Hope.

Where are the leaves?

It must be dead.

No more ambition.

Or perhaps it's not the season.

lundi 31 mars 2008

le voyage de la vie, part YAY

Avec la garde montante
nous arrivons, nous voilà!
Sonne, trompette éclatante!
Ta ra ta ta ta ra ta ta.
Nous marchons, la tête haute
comme de petits soldats,
marquant, sans faire de faute,
une, deux, marquant le pas.
Les épaules en arrière
et la poitrine en dehors,
les bras de cette manière,
tombant tout le long du corps.
Avec la garde montante
nous arrivons, nous voilà!
Sonne, trompette éclatante!
Ta ra ta ta ta ra ta ta.
Ta ra ta ta ra ta ta
Ta ra ta ta ra ta ta ta

*********

No need for the emergency plan.

I got in!

samedi 26 janvier 2008

goodly worst week

had barely any sleep this last week of second quarter stop determines one of the final things to go on the mid-year report to colleges stop never thought id survive but did stop french phonetics linear algebra classes afterschool so much craziness in schedule stop side note, this format of writing got so much zero-copula hor, so much like singlish leh stop debate scrimmage thursday 2-1 swim meet 9 second and 7 second drop for free and breast respectively stop debate at states got so many elimination rounds knocked out 90% of contestants stop i survived until the final round stop each time was like heng ah stop third place in the state of maine stop in a hurry to finish work drink caffeine hence telegram format end

mardi 15 janvier 2008

a scoring guide for music

it's obvious that some songs don't need a focus on intellectual appeal or even harmony to be good -- but it's just that a song that can do all of it brilliantly would be just that -- deserving of a near 100. Has any been created yet? Hmm...

30% (any category or overall) = tolerable
50% good enough to go on a playlist
70% great playlist item
90%+ did I say masterpiece?

intellectual appeal 15%
acuteness 13%
harmony and aesthetics 22%
rhythm 12%
refreshing/original/distinctive 12%
"stickiness" 6%

mardi 1 janvier 2008

et elle est arrivée

One day in 1999, as a fourth grader reading Time, I thought, "They're going to complete the International Space Station in 2008? But that's such a long time away! That's forever!"

But even as a nine-year-old, I knew there was a sense of inevitability to it. It is a strange feeling, to know something unimaginable is going to be inevitable -- sort of like the college applications I am still finishing.

And so it has come.

The ISS is still rather far from complete, though.

samedi 29 décembre 2007

ADHD

I know it's hard dear;
I can only manage a brief sojourn
amongst these seas of stars
My mind is remembering, wandering
softly pondering --
between these two travails
Be not disquieted dear;
my stay may be short
but my absence will be shorter:
How does the respite
press us through the toil!
The race must be finished--

And then I shall return with you
forever.

lundi 19 novembre 2007

epiphanies

Rewatching one of the scenes from I Not Stupid suddenly made me realise that the Terry's parents weren't just overbearing parents... they were an analogy to Singapore's government lol. (Like see this scene.) I don't think I noticed it before. Jack Neo takes two swipes in one scene:

Mom: Where's the angbao (red packet) you got for your birthday, ah?
Girl: That's my money! Why must I give it to you every time?
Mom: I will help you save! Invest ah! Don't worry! I'll give it back to you when you're old enough!
Girl: When will you give it back to us?
Boy: I know! When I'm an old man!
Mom: You think you very funny izzit? Stop talking nonsense!

I just realised it was a reference to CPF.

vendredi 24 août 2007

qui défend les dents

l'extraction pourquoi?
l'extraction nique sa ....


Okay, let's not go down that road.

I just had my wisdom teeth taken out this morning, general anaesthesia and all. My sister did too, but she had an easier time, as being younger, her roots are less developed. Also, yay for state medical subsidies!

Waking up from general anaesthesia can be a funny thing. Knowing from eye surgery last year, I was prepared and self-conscious of the things you say in your half-conscious, half-drugged state. Anaesthesia is an interesting self-study of consciousness and feeling. I am not sure if I started feeling the dull discomfort while asleep, but as I woke up I was only half-aware of the discomfort. It wasn't like, "boom! Wake up! Owww!" At first, you don't realise you've woken up, but I guess because my eyes weren't blindfolded like they were the last time, you realise it quicker. It's funny, because it was like the discomfort had always been there -- meaning it seems to have been gradually present in my sleep. Yet the procedure seems to have taken place in 2 seconds. A curious thing, anyway.



--
It's also funny how effective ibuprofen can be ... I didn't think it would eliminate 98% of the discomfort. Some of the discomfort is coming back now though, and it's not six hours yet! Well, time for Cossacks and Tropico to try to get myself distracted (and there is the rest of the summer assignment to finish).

dimanche 5 août 2007

mon pere et son fils

il me faut rendre ca en chatspeak car je le veux. car, c'est un sujet grave, et c'est justement a cause de ca qu'il faut le traiter avec le coeur, avec la passion. Je n'ai pas le temps pour inclure les accents, et en jouant avec mes camarades de clan j'ai acquis l'habitude de les remplacer avec les equivalents phonetiques. il faut beaucoup de choses. ce sera un peu comme un courant de conscience, comme les experiences de Daryl. Devoir frapper les accents, vous voyez, cela empechent la force a moi, la force du texte...

****

Il n'y avait pas longtemps que mon pere a decouvert mon blogue.

il me faut admettre, que mon pere, il me manque. Pour le contexte, mes parents se sont divorcees il y a longtemps. Six, sept annees. C'etait la plus cruelle etat d'affaires, mon pere a echapper car il lui fallait payer le plus minimum de soutien de famille. Mais malgres ca, toutes ces annees durant, il y avait un petit sentiment d'amour qui restait pour lui.

Tu vois mon pere, je l'admettrai. Et je crois que ma mere et ma soeur l'admettent aussi, un conflit entre le fait que t'es notre pere et ce que t'as fait. Mais tu merite pas mon respect. pas maintenant, pour etre sur. t'es detestable, et seulement un peu aimable.

Mais si tu fais l'effort de lire ca, peut-etre je te respecterai plus. Et si tu prends l'effort pour apprendre la langue de cette affiche, tu demontras que tu travailleras pour gagner mon respect. si tu utilise babelfish, je serai amuser, mais ca va pas aller le mieux.

Une raison pour rendre ca en francais, c'est pour deguiser ca de mon pere, avant qu'il soit pret. pourquoi doit-il pouvoir lire les pensees intimes de son fils, quelqu'un qu'il a abandonner, sans bonne raison?

Et d'autres comme mes amis, peut-etre ils pensent que je ne suis pas raisonnable, quand ils lisent ca. Mais attendez, vous ne savez pas l'histoire entiere.


****

quelquefois, je pense a mon pere. et j'l'aimais! il y a longtemps. et peut-etre, j'l'aime encore. quelquefois je me rapelle de ses discussions dans la cuisine, au sujet de la science, de l'informatique. je deteste l'admettre, mais je dois une bonne portion de ma caractere a lui. des bonnes choses, des mauvaises choses.

mon pere etait toujours un peu antisocial, et il me l'a donner, mais il m'a aussi donner une soif pour connaissance.

j'ecris au hasard, mais ce sujet ca, c'est rempli avec l'emotion.

ce que je voulais dire c'etait mon pere m'a envoyer une lettre, apres ayant decouvert mon blogue. et quelle arrogance! mais, il m'a finalement contacter et j'ai la joie, mais, en meme temps, j'ai la haine.

"First of all, I am really sorry for, but not actually sorry at, the
situation into which I plunged you and your sister."

qu'est-ce que tu dis??! ca ne signifie rien.

mais s'il soit "desoler" en tout cas, on lui doit un petit sentiment de je ne sais quoi. ya beaucoup de sentiments contradictoires. qu'est-ce qu'on pense? qu'est-ce qu'on croit? ma mere ne le crois pas mais il faut que j'admette qu'il y ait un peu de veracitee dans la lettre.

il semble aussi tellement heureux (pas desoler) dans sa lettre. il crois que tout va bien? NON, c'est pas comme ca. mais c'est inutile de trainer sur un blogue, ouais?

il l'a ecrite la lettre il y a deux mois. je ne lui ai jamais repondu. s'il veut que je le croie, il faut plus. Une lettre? L'UNE? tu crois que tu peux convaincre tes enfants que t'as DESERTER avec une lettre? t'es fou, toi!

c'est pas la fin, absolument pas. c'est seulement le debut. mais chuis fatiguee, et on ne peut pas raconter l'histoire entiere en un jour.