Dan-yel

In the stubborn passing of time...

2012-01-29T19:41:00.000+08:00

Time will pass stubbornly and bring you closer and closer to the moment that you have set yourself in. With each passing second, the realization of the kind of shit you're putting yourself in slowly sinks in. You're the one who set it in motion and there's no turning back. Quickly you think of what to say, you think about the events today and how you can thread it together under one common theme. You keep your head high and push away the dread of screwing things up. And far sooner than you'd like it, they call out your name.

One step at a time, first, you move your feet forward as quickly as possible (fortunately it gives the illusion of a determined and purposeful walk to others watching you). Once you've stepped onto the stage, you find yourself in a bright spot, beyond which the audience appear only as blurry dark shapes. This is it, this is the moment where you can transform someone's night into an unforgettable one, and it's all up to you. She has shown much unconditional love that you've never had before. For the first time in your whole life, there's someone who truly appreciate what you stand for. Who loves you till it aches everyday. Who would not wish you to be any different. There's no other way to describe her except that she is just so beautiful in every aspect.

Right then and there, you forget about screwing it up or the embarrassment of no one listening, because you couldn't be bothered anymore. With each word you speak, you see her eyes lighting up, brighter and brighter with each passing word. Finally, you take her own magic words, and use them to transform the night for her.

You seize the moment, and make it last a thousand years for her.

Chasing cars

2011-11-28T23:55:00.001+08:00

My Love,

Let's waste time and chase cars together.

We don't need someone to make us happy

2011-07-04T00:37:00.003+08:00

There is a prevailing delusion that we need to stay put with someone in order to be happy, but we all know too well that we are always in the state of flux. Our life here is a series of independent and separate moments of existence, it would be a mistake to think that it is a continuous novel with an ultimate beginning and an ultimate end.

Everything begins and ends now and here!

Be Be Your Love by Rachael Yamagata

2011-06-28T12:24:00.003+08:00

Conscience can just be as bad as lust

2011-06-16T23:17:00.000+08:00

(Note: When I refer to 'conscience' here, I am referring to an impulse that pulls and sways our actions and influence our beliefs, something that we cannot really defend using rational arguments. It is different from conscience in the sense of having arrived at a decision through deliberation and rational thinking)

A friend who wished to remain anonymous texted me this message, "A conscience does not prevent sin... It only prevents us from enjoying one... Heard this on Radio 4... Hmm..."

My answer to this is this - In our mind there's you, the self, which makes subjective experience possible. Subjective here does not mean having an experience influenced by your own knowledge and belief. No, subjective here simply means being able to say that you see something, you are reading this, you are thinking. If the subject i.e. you doesn't exist, then you can't have a subjective experience like you feel something, you see something, you think... in other words, Sum ergo cogito.

Other than the data from the senses that the subconscious has filtered and interpreted for you, the subconcious also throws at you what we would call impulses, and one of these impulses is what we can call conscience. What this impulse does is that it MAKES us THINK a particular act is desirable or not desirable, and sometimes it is deeper in that it can associate an act as contrary to who we are or is deeply embedded in our identity, although this is not true, the self is a clean slate, there is nothing outside of it that can be associated with it or be embedded in it. So this is how conscience operates, when you do something that is against your conscience, at a milder level, you are made to think that the act you're doing is not desirable.

Lust, similarly, has the same effect in our mind. Say you are doing the 'right' thing like restraining from premarital sex with your girlfriend or boyfriend, your subconsicous mind will tell you that this is not desirable, you know you want it. Sometimes it can also work at a deeper level, it can associate a desire with the essence of your being or identity. Think Hugh Hefner, think Anthony Weiner. Not expressing this part of you makes you feel like you're restraining a part of yourself.

But these two are essentially impulses and with some imagination we can see how conscience can be as detrimental as lust. Recall how some people restrain themselves too much under the anvil of conscience, the kind of self-denial that sprang from such restraint. Why we call one impulse conscience and the other lust, is the result of our own labelling. That labelling comes from our own upbringing and the societal pressure that acts upon us. So though they are opposite forces in our mind, they are essentially similar. They are labelled differently as a result of cultural conditioning.

I think the ideal way is to be the master of these impulses, not in the sense of suppressing them, but in the sense of acknowledging their existence and deal with them with the objective of coexistence.

A fire just started

2011-06-15T03:09:00.004+08:00

There's a fire starting in my heart,
Reaching a fever pitch and it's bring me out of the dark.

I have not felt this for a long time,

But seeing you, talking with you, makes me wish that you're mine.

The void in the four hardened chambers of my heart,

Had never seen such light, such ease for its own part.

It was always there beating tirelessly, on and on,

Except its own, it had no other strength to rely on.

But ever since I saw you, I found a new source of strength,

Which, without a doubt, I could feel its potential to extend my soul to greater length.

So I can't help to wonder, if you are willing to take that leap of faith,

To see how great we could be together, taking on this life's fate.

Adele - Rolling in the deep

2011-06-15T02:41:00.001+08:00

Passion Replay

2011-05-31T03:38:00.022+08:00

[Continued from Hell, And so it ends, Risha, A new friend and Irreconcilable]

It's been years since their relationship ended, so it's natural that he hadn't thought of her, except a few and far between instances where he can't help recalling their time together. Dennis is now married to a loving wife, and to a job that pays really well. One would think, at this point, that he would know how his life would unfold, and sure that there are some chapters in his life there is no turning back to.

But last night his dream told a different story. In that dream, he was alone in a cold darkened street. No one in sight, except the ghostly street lamps, and the gushing river a few feet away. He felt alone, like a presence of a flesh, placed in the middle of concrete surroundings. The heart pounded wearily against the hardened chamber of urban existence.

Alas, he's in a strange place. He knows not where to go. A step in any direction would not make any difference. But a step is all I can take now, he thought to himself.

________

"I'm scared, Sabrina. I'm scared that when we look at each other, we see only strangers," Dennis whispered.

"Dear, I'm scared too."

Their hands squeezed into each other, letting go was not an option. With her ear pressed against his chest, she could feel his heartbeat. The sound of both life and love.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" she asked.

With his eyes fixed on hers, he nodded.

She moved her hand down below, feeling it as it rose steadily. There was a kind of unsettling feeling, the same feeling that one was about to make a horrible mistake. Reason plays no part here. Just what you want to do.

He moved his hand down behind her. The memory of the steady slide down the curve and up around, never lost its vividness. She shifted her whole weight onto him. Pressing a bit harder where they supposed to meet. The slow rub of her hips back and forth makes her more pleasant to look at

With her face lighted only by the moonlight, she was beautiful... Simply, and nothing short of, beautiful.

________

Having seen and experienced something like that has a way of casting a different light on your outlook or perception. It seems to mark the moment when a boy becomes a man.

However, back in the street, a sound of a woman giggling suddenly broke the ghostly silence of the night. It came from about a few blocks away in front of him.

There, under a street lamp, against the moonlit sky, a couple could be seen in deep embrace. Although seen from a distance, there is no mistake that their lips are still locked together.

Feeling awkward, he thought it's better that he turn around and take another route. But a sudden sense of familiarity froze him in the spot.

He turned back and looked again. What had only barely registered in his mind earlier, now became clear. The woman kissing another man, was his ex-girlfriend, Sabrina. But seeing her again, even in this dream, he saw no stranger. It was still the same face that he knew and fell in love with. Nevertheless, he didn't know how to react at that moment.

To make matters worse, 'the other man' she was kissing wasn't another man after all. In fact, that man was Dennis himself.

(The image above is an adapted work of Ash Berlin, in accordance with the applicable terms of copyright license)

Getting right right

2011-05-28T21:12:00.002+08:00

What is the right thing to do? Is it based on some objective morality that is self-evident to all of us? Or is there really such a thing as an objective moral truth?

But even if there is such a thing, can morality at such high level of generality give us any useful guidance for action? What if the ancient maxims conflict with each other, how do we decide which to prioritize or how to modify them so that they're in harmony?

My guts are telling me, and this proposition has become increasingly cogent to me lately, through observations of those around me and my own reflection, that to decide what is the right thing to do cannot be rationally based on general values such as the sanctity of life, fidelity or pacta sunt servanda. It's not that they are self-evident, or intelligible to all human beings, no their moral truth does not rest there or their moral values owe to its self-evident nature or universal intelligibility to all creatures capable of cognition and rational thought.

No, but their moral value and truth can only be rationally justifiable because of the overall benefit that we believe we'll obtain by holding on to these general principles. The most rational view is the consequentialist view. If that is so, can we decide what the right thing to do without resorting to general maxims, but instead assess our options based on their consequences? Would it us to a more justifiable action, free from dogmatic world view?

Inspiration

2011-05-27T00:42:00.006+08:00

There was a kind of dead silence prevailing in this watering hole. The only sounds were the music "Gotta have you" by the Weepies playing softly in the background, with murmurs of voices, and a hint of clinking glasses.

My glass of whiskey remains half full; but it's mostly water melted from the ice. The paper in front of me remains scribble-free. Nothing, still nothing. I still couldn't come up with something. God, this is frustrating.

The truth is I wasn't able to focus when this girl came in. She dressed well, and you could tell she's been working out. Toned arms, upright body posture and firmed neck area. If that isn't attractive, I don't know what is. With her brunette hair, there was an ease with which she blend into the evening glow, which seems to makes everyone else look like mere shadows. Needless to say, she stands out even more.

But like any men in the presence of a beautiful woman, I grew shy, for a moment I thought I was tongue-tied. Hell, there was no way I'd be talking to her, no matter how much I wanted to. It was way way safer to stay put at this table, and try to finish my work and whiskey... On second thought, maybe not the whiskey, there's nothing there to drink anyway. This is so not cool, man.

"Ok, get a grip of yourself. The chance of you screwing this up is just as likely that something great will happen, give it a shot, man!"

It was for a good 15 minutes that I wrestled with my guts. What's the worst thing that could happen, really? Well, for one, we would have nothing to talk about, and there would be awkward silence, and that wouldn't be nice, would it? Or we might hit it off, and besides, she seemed harmless, she won't just ask you to leave just like that. But then again, maybe I'll look like some mad man, and all she want for her dear life is to leave the place pronto! Shit, leaving it to my conscience is not doing me any good. Well, at least not mine, I need to call him.

So, I dialed my best friend's number, and like any guy who spotted a woman that he wants to get acquainted with, I said, "Dude, there's a hot chick, right across from where I'm sitting!"

"Go, and talk to her, man," he replied.

"I want to, but what if there's nothing we can talk about?"

"Just do it, pussy!"

So that was the end of our unsurprisingly brief interchanges. Fuck it, here goes nothing.

I rose from my seat, took my glass of whiskey with me, and courageously I strode across to her table.

"Hi there..."

"Hi..."

"You're new in town?"

She chuckled, "No, I worked here for two years. And this is where I come to drink, to have a good time." She smiled, and that doesn't help to slow the heartbeat.

"Erm... So what do you do?"

"Would you like to sit?"

"Erm... sorry?"

"This seat is empty..."

"Oh this seat is not taken... I thought you were waiting for ..."

Now I'm not sure if it was because I forgot how to lift my right foot properly as I moved into the seat or I was too taken aback by her sudden offer to sit with her. But what happened next was something that I'm not proud of, and no way I would let my friends know.

So what happened? I fell. And how about the half-full whiskey glass? I lost grip of it, and it fell onto the table right in front of her, spilling the content to, oh you'd know where.

For a dreadful second, I thought of leaving, but instead I offered to help, which wasn't really a better idea.

"Let me help you wipe it off." See? Shit...

She chuckled, "Are you serious?"

"I'm sorry. I don't know what I'm thinking." It's confirmed, I'm screwing this up.

"It's okay. But no amount of wiping is going to make it dry. Looks like I have to sit here until it dries out."

"I suppose I should leave huh..."

"No, please, you're not going to leave a grown woman with a wet skirt by herself, are you?"

"I guess not."

With a smile, she nodded towards the table where I sat, "I see that you were writing something."

"Oh that? I'm writing for a scene for a local production. And I'm here because I'm stuck and in need of inspiration."

"Well, what's the story about?"

"The scene that I'm writing? I have trouble connecting dots, actually. It's supposed to start with a guy having a drink by himself in a bar, which explains my choice of venue. And by fate, he's supposed to meet someone..." Suddenly, it struck me how weirdly coincidental this has been.

"So, who's that someone? Is she special?"

"Yeah, she's someone special... very special."

"I think you've got your story." She spread her arms in a gesture as if to say, "this is it."

This is fucking weird... "So what you do you do again?"

And so we talked, we talked and we talked. We had a good deal of laugh, turns out that she was living not that far away from where I stayed. She runs bookstore just a few blocks away. The conversation lasted for a good deal of time, a long time because we were forced to leave so that the bar can close.

"I had a good time," she said.

"Me too."

"Here's my number, if anything do call me."

"I will."

With a wave and a smile, she got into her taxi, and headed for her apartment. I stood there, as the car sped away, thinking to myself, "Well, who knows.... who knows..."

I'm not sure if it hadn't been for me spilling the drink, she would have sat with me for that long. But all I know is that, for tonight, something amazing has just happened.

Black Swan

2011-05-25T03:13:00.004+08:00

Black Swan poses honest, albeit disturbing, questions about us; how far would we go to achieve what we want, and it's that sometimes what we want to achieve is at odds with who we are, or at least thought we are.

Human beings are not brought up, much less born, with a personality, the elements of which easily reconcilable with the other elements. We are hosts to a number of contradictions, between competing values, between values and the reality as we perceive, or between what people expect of us and what we expect of ourselves. They can be so irreconcilable that we don't really know who we are; these contradictions could run deeper, they affect the core of our self-identification.

Nina Sayers' own inner contradictions were incrementally revealed to be more dramatic, between whom she thought she was and the side of her that she repressed, against the backdrop of the innocence of ballet dancing and the vicious ambition that fuels it. Maybe it's not apt to say that she always had that darker side of her that she's been suppressing, but more appropriate to say that she develops a pattern of behaviour in response to her surging desire. But the fact of the matter is that that combination of desires, or pulse was there, and it grows from strength to strength in the competitive environment that she's in. It makes me wonder if the contained personality that she had in the beginning of the movie was the result of her upbringing by her mother, who seemed to have expectations in how her daughter should turn out to be, instead of letting her grow organically, irrespective her mother's approval.

That's all I have to say about this movie. But it's a movie worth pondering upon after you're done watching it.

“I want to fix this. And I don't know how. Please, tell me what I can do. I’ll do anything!”

2011-04-25T21:46:00.003+08:00

Irreconcilable

2011-04-06T01:50:00.013+08:00

[Continued from Hell, And so it ends, and A new friend]

The day was drawing to a close. Through the balcony, the evening sky cast a soft glow across the room. A figure draped in oversized shirt was leaning against the frame. He could slightly register a slight outline of her body, the contours of which he has only explored last night. It began with an embrace – an opportunity long missed since the two separated after high school. Now married, each with a promising career, they looked ideally as a couple. And last night proved just that. As they kissed, their lips and tongues fell into matching rhythm. His hands slithered from her side to her back, feeling the arch of her body and the passion in her spine. It was only then did both of them realize just how perfect they were for each other, like some hidden truth has finally dawned on him. If he was ever sure of anything, this was beyond doubt.

“Do you have to leave now?” her soft voice was more than audible in this quiet room.

“Sorry, I’ve got to,” Dennis replied. He knew that he could do something to stay longer; a simple phone call with some cooked-up excuse will give him another night. But that just won’t do, somehow.

She turned to stare at him. She had the kind of look like she knows the things that are being weighed in your soul. Maybe it’s the familiar eyes that he has fallen for for so long. Or maybe it’s the guilt that only just began to register.

No one has to know, he told himself. He dropped his coat, and slowly made his way to her. This time it wasn’t the sense of discovery that they felt last night. It was pain, with an awful tinge of fear, that they were beating too many odds when fate had decreed that they were not meant to be together.

“I love you, Dennis, just too much for me to bear,” she cried.

“I’m not letting you go, I promise.”

___________

Now with the door closed, he was brought back to the other side of his life, one which is irreconcilable with the other. Here, in his house, he‘s a family man, with a loving wife and two kids, but the other side is where his true passion lies. The family business was a niche that every grown man is expected to fill in, a job at home he has to take up.

There was a sound coming from the kitchen. He could tell that Risha was there. And true enough, she was standing there preparing dinner with her back facing him, not aware that her husband has just returned. Quietly, he approached her, slid his hands around her waist, feeling the tenderness of her body. He moved his lips close to her ears, whispered, “Miss me?”

He could tell that she had just bathed, a way to welcome him from a long trip. Turning around to face him, she wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing his height closer for her reach. With a kiss she said, “too much for me to bear…”

Bathing under the waterfall

2010-12-22T01:28:00.003+08:00

The meaning of life

2010-11-16T15:44:00.004+08:00

Throughout the ages, when philosophers set out to investigate the nature of law, they asks, "What is law?" Usually this question is dealt with by providing a definition of law. Just as H. L. A. Hart pointed out in the first chapter of his book, The Concept of Law, these philosophers weren't interested with the meaning of the word law (the concept-word known as 'law') but with the puzzling nature of a social phenomenon, known as law - how does law bind us? what is the role of sanction? what is meant by following rules? We all know what the law means, and that is evident in the ordinary use of that word which seem to present no difficulty to any ordinary man. Further, the problem was not about the content of law either, for all men can debate and reach a fair degree of certainty of what the relevant law would be.

The quest was to seek the essence that distinguish law from other aspects of social life, e.g. morality and how it really operates in our society.

But I'm not here to share about my opinion on Jurisprudence. Just that it reminds me of another of men's persistent inquiry i.e. the meaning of life. Unlike law, I know no one who approach the question, "What is the meaning of life?" by providing a definition. Because we all know that when we ask, "What is the meaning of life?" we are not interested in the dictionary-meaning of the concept-word life, but rather the concept of life i.e. the essential value of the concept 'life' (perhaps as something more than just existence). On top of this question, perhaps there's another question that we might want to address ourselves to before any attempt to analyse the concept of life can be worthwhile i.e. is there anything objective or of transcendental value of this concept called 'life'?

For the religious, there is no doubt that the concept of life has an objective or transcendental value or essence (I assume this to be the case for all religions, although some would believe that life is entirely the prerogative of a deity, and he therefore has the right to give and take it away as he please). But in this age of pluralism and science, where the concept of God today is nowhere as influential in the psyche of men as it was before modernity, can we take for granted that life has an objective and transcendental value in it? Would this mean that life is an entirely human concept, the truth of which would not be to peruse the scriptures but to reflect on our deeply-held intuition?

Can I say that life is an entirely meaningless concept as it is in this world, for the concept of life is totally alien to the universe, unlike the concept of gravity and mass? But no one surely could doubt the critical role of the concept of life in regulating human sentiments and morality, so that its meaninglessness in the natural world is not basis for its neglect in the social world. But the vague meaning of the concept of life has rendered us multi-directional, thus making us, as a race, lacking in unity in purpose and worldview.

Should we attempt to discover the objective essence of the concept of life?

If we ever going to, it would mean that we need to ask tough and honest questions about who we are, and our place in the world. If we continue to live under the blinding delusion of a vengeful deity, by codes that have no relevance to a full life (Not suggesting that you to ditch God, but you determine for yourself if there's a deity at all, there's no harm being open about the fact that there's no divinity, but no harm praying either). Nor would we be experiencing reality as it is if we are shrouded by the false consciousness of ideology and its economic superstructure.

The meaning of life rest on the truth of our existence, and in some way would provide real justification in how we should direct our creative force.

He died because he worked too hard to bring money to the table

2010-09-11T23:24:00.004+08:00

Goodbye, Ah Ba. Mama will always miss someone to confide to, to tease with. She said she felt like she had just lost an important limb. Derek couldn't attend your funeral because he wants to work even harder for his exam. Deren, your golden child, will forever miss his best friend, not a second went by without him struggling to move on.

Ah Ba, I only regret that I didn't have the chance to make your life comfortable. I wasn't there for you, I didn't go back to see you because I chose to work so that we have enough money to pay for my studies. But Ah Ba, you always say that you work so hard because you want us to lead a different and more comfortable life than yours. And you never get to live your happy retirement life.

Ah Ba, we miss you so much, we love so dearly. We won't let you down! I will take good care of Mama, Derek and Deren!

Ah Ba, I shall succeed in your name. Take care.

A noble bet

2010-08-15T00:31:00.006+08:00

Upon stepping into church today, I heard this from the lady who led the Novena;

"May they not resort to drugs in order to escape from life"

Drugs, as a means to escape from life.

But what does it mean by life? I mean not only in the Church's view, but in our view, generally all of us. Surely we cannot reduce it to a biological sense i.e. to eat, move and reproduce. Our observable behaviour to a psychologist or sociologist would only reveal the external aspects of our existence; as organisms with a system of language, institutions and culture.

As equally important as, if not more, is the internal aspect of our existence. It is not so much as what is meant to them of what constitutes existence or life. What is sought for in this internal, relfective inquiry, is what is meant by you and me when we ask what is life or what is the meaning of our existence.

Can I truly characterize this sense of life or existence as something like being waken up in a prison or on a desolate island, without prior knowledge or memory of how or why you have got there? There would be no agony or loneliness in the same sense of having been thrusted into prison or island. There can be no sense of abandonment. Nor could there be a sense of guilt or victimisation which could explain your fortuitous presence in that cell or island. There is only cluelessness and if you press the inquiry further, you feel at lost. You demand an explanation or you try to find out why.

But that (the sense of cluelessness or need for explanation) is only possible if you are aware of a world beyond the cell or the people you would meet if you weren't stuck in that island or prison. What if you are not aware, or choose not to entertain that flicker of curiosity within you?

You would engage yourself with the little things around you. You set your mind to drawing on the walls about what you see around you, within those four walls, including the window high up through which light occassionally shine through. And when you reflect upon the artwork, you begin to imagine and you see that possibilities are boundless and exciting. You want to see what lies outside the window. You're thinking of a way to climb up to it.

See, you are not driven by curiosity per se? All the things you've been doing is because they gave a better sense or true context of your place in the world or in this example in the cell or island. Likewise, the act of living, whatever we're doing, falling in love, performing the best in our studies, working hard, creating buildings, community work, doing business. again, this acts of living are driven by our deep desire to acquire a better sense of our existence, not the definition, or meaning of it, I'm just saying sense, a true sense of our existence and life.

Back to our example, what if you realise that there is nothing that you can use to climb up, when you realise that your limbs can't get you up there? You become disappointed, depressed.

When it dawns on you, that there is much constraint on your life that you can't do about, you start blaming the system, you start becoming bitter and say that you've been exploited in the past. What do you do? Your actions are too guided by this myopic worldview, you see yourself as fully entitled to everything, you waste your mind on thinking that it is you against the world. Or you start thinking that life is all that is before your eyes although your heart insists differently. You seek to escape from that dull hopeless life, you get into drugs.

But the whole problem is letting yourself to believe that the world is that small and simple, just because you can't see anything beyond what your senses and mind can detect.

Believing that there is something beyond the observable reality is what characterises a believe in God. Oh, pardon my words, I meant belief in something beyond the observable reality. To believe that something exists beyond this observable reality or that God exists is stupid. At the least, it is an unwarranted or unjustified belief. To believe in God is to strive for that common principle which would bind us all.

Now, there is a difference between believing that there is something to see beyond that window (the former notion) and believing in the value of trying to see what lies beyond the window (the latter notion). Though these two notions overlap, but 'believing that there is something to see beyond that window' I mean here is the kind of assertive or affirmative belief that there is something or that you know that something exist beyond that window. This is an ignorant or baseless belief because such belief depends on facts; and until you have established your facts that belief remains baseless. You cannot say that you believe or know that something worth seeing beyond the window without having seen it in the first place.

The belief in the latter notion's sense is best described as a noble bet. The legitimacy of this statement, belief or noble bet relies not on its factual basis. A noble bet's worth rest on the value of its overall project. This is what characterises my belief in God; and also my belief in my existence and my own life.

My Favourite Dialog from Mad Men

2010-08-12T00:17:00.000+08:00

Draper: Why aren't you married?

Menken: Are you asking what's wrong with me?

Draper: It's just that you're a beautiful, educated woman. Don't you think that getting married and having a family would make you happier than all the headaches that go along with fighting people like me?

Menken: If I weren't a woman, I would be allowed to ask you the same question. and if I weren't a woman, I wouldn't have to choose between putting on an apron and the thrill of making my father's store what I always thought it should be.

Draper: So that's it, you won't get married because you find business to be a thrill?

Menken: That and I've never been in love.

Draper: She won't get married because she's never been in love? I think I wrote that once to sell nylons.

Menken: For a lot of people, love isn't just a slogan.

Draper: Oh what you mean love? You mean the big lightning bolt to the heart where you can't eat and you can't work and you just run off and get married and make babies? The reason you haven't felt it is because it doesn't exist. What you call love was invented by guys like me (advertising business) to sell nylons.

Menken: Is that right?

Draper: I'm pretty sure about it. You're born alone and you die alone. And this world just drops a bunch of rules on top of you, to make you forget those facts but I never forget. I'm living like there's no tomorrow because there isn't one.

Menken: I don't think I realise until this moment but it must be hard being a man too.

Draper: Excuse me?

Menken: Mr. Draper...

Draper: Don...

Menken: Mr. Draper, I don't know what it is you really believe in, but I do know what it feels like to be out of place, to be disconnected, to see the whole world laid out in front of you the way other people live it. There is something about you that tells me that you know it too.

From the movie "The Legend of 1900"

2010-07-05T19:07:00.001+08:00

All that city. You just couldn't see the end to it. The end? Please? You please just show me where it ends? It was all very fine on that gangway. And I was grand too, in my overcoat. I cut quite a figure. And I was getting off. Guaranteed. There was no problem. It wasn't what I saw that stopped me, Max. It was what I didn't see. You understand that? What I didn't see. In all that sprawling city there was everything except an end. There was no end. What I did not see was where the whole thing came to an end. The end of the world...

Take a piano. The keys begin, the keys end. You know there are eighty-eight of them, nobody can tell you any different. They are not infinite. You are infinite. And on these keys the music that you can make is infinite. I like that. That I can live by.

You get me up on that gangway and you're rolling out in front of me a keyboard of millions of keys, millions and billions of keys that never end, and that's the truth, Max. That they never end. That keyboard is infinite. And if that keyboard is infinite, then on that keyboard there is no music you can play. You're sitting on the wrong bench. That's God's piano.

Christ! Did, did you see the streets? Just the streets… There were thousands of them! And how do you do it down there? How do you choose just one? One woman, one house, one piece of land to call your own, one landscape to look at, one way to die...

All that world is weighing down on me, you don't even know where it comes to an end, and aren't you ever just scared of breaking apart at the thought of it? The enormity of living it?

I was born on this ship, and the world passed me by, but two thousand people at a time. And there were wishes here, but never more than fit between prow and stern. You played out your happiness, but on a piano that was not infinite. I learned to live that way.

Land? Land is a ship too big for me. It's a woman too beautiful; it's a voyage too long, a perfume too strong. It's a music I don't know how to make. I could never get off this ship. At best, I can step off my life. After all, I don't exist for anyone. You're an exception, Max, you're the only one who knows I'm here. You're a minority, and you better get used to it. Forgive me, my friend, but I'm not getting off.

Nineteen Hundred

USA 1, Algeria 0

2010-06-25T04:17:00.010+08:00

...An emerging young star, Donovan played with blithe exuberance at the 2002
World Cup as the United States reached the quarterfinals. In 2006, he was
expected to be a leader, but he found the expectation burdensome, playing poorly as the Americans exited in the first round. He has said he felt worn down,
saying to himself at one point: “Why am I doing this? This is just too much.”

In July 2009, Donovan separated from his wife, the actress Bianca Kajlich. The dissolved marriage, therapy and discussions with family and friends forced him to look at himself “in an honest way” — not always one that he liked, Donovan said recently.

He has seemed invigorated and renewed at this World Cup, scoring a defiant goal and providing an assist against Slovenia, then delivering the winning moment against Algeria. Afterward, Donovan seemed stunned and drained and overcome. At a news conference, he wiped tears from his eyes.

“Those experiences can harden you and can help you grow if you learn from them,” Donovan, 28, said. “I spent a lot of time and work to get something
out of those experiences. I think it all kind of came together tonight.”...

By JERÉ LONGMAN
Published: June 23, 2010
The
New York Times

These words marked in bold are those that I can relate with. It characterizes my own growing process too. We all have experiences which forces us to grow, but one can only grow if one chooses to learn from it and is willing to face it honestly. Well done, Donovan!

On Saturday, the 6th of March 2010

2010-03-13T11:46:00.002+08:00

Today I went to the Christian Fellowship gathering in my college. Pastor Julie was there. She must have been Yin Soon's pastor, I assumed.

At first, I decided to spend the whole morning with my studies, but as I was going up in a lift to the library, the door opened to 4th Floor where I could hear the students in the gathering singing the hymns. That was how I was reminded of the CF session, being the last for the term, which Audrey never ceased to remind me earlier in the week.

Reluctant, I continued my way to the library but I felt a sense of obligation to not disappoint my friend. Nevertheless, I already felt a certain draw towards the 4th Floor Q room, the traditional meeting place for CF.

Although I was an hour late, I decided to join. Having not renounced my atheist stand then, it was awkward for me, as I stood at a certain emotional distance from the participants. At the same time though I enjoyed reflecting on their spirituality of hope and what it means to them.

Pastor Julie shared with us about what St. Paul wrote in prison to the Phillipians (something about leaving the past behind, forget means intentionally or willfully disregard as opposed to really cause yourself to forget, the latter being not possible; forgive to achieve, moving forward). A prayer session followed, in which the participants prayed for one another. In the midst of that, she approached me and gave me one of the most heartfelt prayer which means a lot to me, something that I haven't heard for a long time. She prayed as she laid her hands on my shoulder. As if she could read my thoughts, she asked that I may overcome every hurdle, and keep on running in this race. The allegory of race was exactly the central theme of my thoughts lately.

I'm not sure, but God, I need your strength in this trying of times.

May God help me.

The Other Woman

2010-02-19T04:17:00.005+08:00

(Blogger's note: I found the picture and the poem on this Flickr page. Picture by Professor Bop, and protected under Creative Commons license, the terms of which as set out here. Great stuff, so decided to share with you guys)

The other woman finds time to manicure her nails
The other woman is perfect where her rival fails
And shes never seen with pin curls in her hair

The other woman enchants her clothes with french perfume
The other woman keeps fresh cut flowers in each room
There are never toys thats scattered everywhere

And when her baby comes to call
Hell find her waiting like a lonesome queen
Cos when she's by his side
Its such a change from old routine

But the other woman will always cry herself to sleep
The other woman will never have his love to keep
And as the years go by the other woman
Will spend her life alone

--Jesse Mae Robinson

The Story of Stuff

2010-02-18T18:11:00.004+08:00

I watched this video yesterday. Today I was thinking about the video's message; that it was our way of life that needs changing - blind and cyclic consumerism (aka the golden arrow) must be replaced with responsible, equitable and sustainable way of life. In our present world, there are few things to be noted;

Most rich Western countries like the United States now invest in Third World countries (most notable example is China), and these Third World countries depend on the investing nations for market for their goods.
Most of these investments may be prompted by the lack of natural resources in their home countries (in addition to cheap labour)
Back in our own country, Malaysia, this trend is reflected in our Bakun hydroelectric dam. It's a mega project, largely to supply energy to West Malaysia. Sarawak and Sabah seems to benefit very little from this project, yet the natives are forced to dislocate the Bakun area, losing their way of life and their ancestral homes in the process.

On point no. 1 and no. 2, the very fact that developed nations are increasingly and hard-pressed to find ways and resources to sustain their way of life at home may have give rise to changes in areas of international law such as the expansion of the doctrine of humanitarian intervention, whereby foreign nations are justified to intervene (militarily if necessary) if the one government fail to fulfill its basic functions as a government (not much to the liking of Russia and China). But I'm not here to disapprove intervention by other states, I strongly advocate for military action by foreign states in dire situations especially with respect to the Rwandan Genocide and its likes.

On point no. 3, bearing in mind that Sarawak is much less developed compared to West Malaysia, where much of the accumulation of wealth is based and where consumerism in some places like KL and Penang are akin to that of the First World's, here we can see the same trend that is happening in the world at large i.e. less developed and poorer areas are exploited for their natural resources to sustain the lifestyle of the more developed but resource-scarce areas.

I wonder if the solution for our nation-building and wealth development now lies in providing greener solutions and the change of our lifestyles, rather than simply attracting more investments and setting up of factories.

Dignified Existence

2010-02-02T12:42:00.011+08:00

I was having nasi babi kangkong for dinner, in a dark alley of Petaling Street, hawker style, with makeshift tables and chairs. It reflects the state of life that many Malaysians continue to lead today; toiling away under glaring fluorescent lamps, working their sweat off in loose shabby t-shirts in a poorly lit alley with potholes and sharing your premises with passing motorcycles.

There were seven of us. Students in our casual wear, fresh out of class. At my two o’clock I saw a pair of an old man in his 60s and a woman who should be in her 40s or 50s. The man was extremely fit for his age, had very toned and sculpted muscles and nicely-trimmed crew cut. The woman was dressed to seduce, with pantyhose, gorgeous upper-class hairdo and high-heels made of leather that went up to half of her shin. The man showed her what he had just bought for her, a pair of shades, apparently the branded ones. He then passed them to her. Very few words exchanged between them, and they seemed somber and silent, like most grown-ups do.

We, youngsters, would just talk and laugh about anything. Maybe because there was so much for us to learn, so much for us to be curious about, therefore more likely for us to find anything funny that comes up in our conversation. Maybe we’re law students, more prone to notice the ironies or the subtleties of the language we employ. Or maybe there were just not that much controversies in our eyes or not much ‘territories’ which we are by some silent convention forbidden to tread. Or the ‘cup’ ain’t full for us, unlike adults, anything you do, the words you say, may have other meanings that no one intended but which experience advised you to attribute.

Our nasi were already finished. But our conversation was no where near the end. I consciously tried to ‘sneak’ a look around if there are any empty seats left, lest we would be doing the aunty and her fetus a huge disfavor by obstructing their businesses.

As the chatter went on, I found my mind drifted away again to my recurring thoughts. Images of disparities between the poor and the rich tend to wildly illustrate themselves in Chee Cheong Kai. Well-to-do tourists meet Bangladeshi men striving to earn some cash back home. Old prostitutes who are old enough to be my grandmother would see a daughter in her 20s walking to college, in the hope of a better future as a lawyer, the child she never had, and would definitely never have one. Beggars covered in filth would have begged from at least one immaculately dressed and decent woman in a day. Some could be seen working their fuck off to make both ends meet, where the flow of money is no less uncertain than a sudden downpour of rain.

What hope can we offer to them? Doesn’t each and every one of us deserve at least a dignified existence?

Picture by Ronn Aidaman (CC BY-NC-ND 2.0)

Imagine...

2010-02-01T16:01:00.002+08:00

Imagine a world with no religion, no country, no race.

When we realize we don't need hell or heaven to make us do what's right. When we learn to shed prejudice, and realize that all men and women strive to do the right thing. When being different doesn't mean being wrong.

When our own views aren't necessarily the same as facts or the consensus shared by humanity (or the latter may not have anything to say about it). When we stop searching the skies for God, but find God in us.

Following the Allah debacle; this thoughts resonate well in me, better than before. I am sick and tired of religion.

Imagine too a world without possession, without money, no need for greed or hunger. A brotherhood of mankind. A man's success is measured by his contribution to humanity. No need for obsession over brands and materialism.

No countries... but a worldwide brotherhood of mankind.

Surah al-Baqarah, verse 62

2010-01-06T09:53:00.003+08:00

I just watched Muallaf last night, and the movie reignited my interest in Islam and Surah al-Baqarah, verse 62;

Lo! Those who believe (in that which is revealed unto thee, Muhammad), and those who are Jews, and Christians, and Sabaeans - whoever believeth in Allah and the Last Day and doeth right - surely their reward is with their Lord, and there shall no fear come upon them neither shall they grieve.

In my post published on 20th December 2007, I said, "[t]o my understanding, it simply means that whoever, regardless of religion and decree, chooses to believe that there's a supreme being, a supreme order, however you'd like to have it, that regulates the events of men and nature, and chooses to do what is right, will be rewarded well. In Islam, race and religion takes no significance compared to deeds and desire for truth before the eyes of the Almighty."

And what I think of the verse today remains unchanged.

Indomitability and tenacity

2009-12-14T10:27:00.004+08:00

Hope is the thing with feathers,
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all.

And sweetest in the gale is heard,
And sore must be the storm,
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chilliest land
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

- Emily Dickinson

This is a poem that serves as a source of strength for one friend of mine. And this is also a poem which fails to resonate in me, not that I can't understand, not that I fail to identify its beauty.

I sit here now, typing this blog, as I listened to a colleague of mine trying to joke with another colleague. I can't help to see its superficiality, how she reminded me of those who tried so hard to earn the respect and appreciation of their friends and family. But it just doesn't work. You are nothing, I don't like the way you talk, I hate how you look, and I contempt you for your lack of intelligence. You disgust me, you better off die and get out of my pristine life.

Not long ago, a lecturer passed away and there wasn't much news traveling around about his death. Kind, compassionate and hardworking, there is no doubt that he is still being taken for granted after his death. How he had sacrificed, time, quality of life and health for the college, but not a mention of him at the recently concluded convocation. Only the name of a distant former Lord President who happened to be the college's chairman and whose name engraved on our trophies and written on our certificates.

And when your friends seem to measure you based on how popular you are, likable or attractive, the status that you hold - instead of your sacrifices, your sincerity and honesty - your thing with feathers would gradually and inevitably shed its feathers. You can't help to lose hope and faith in the values that they had propounded and claimed to embrace.

Everyone, is judged by his or her status and wealth. As long as you have the standing, your wrong can be made right, and your right would be placed on a pedestal.

What is there anymore for me, when my hard work and honesty seem to go unappreciated. My selflessness was deemed less important than my errors.

As for my parents, they have done and still are doing their best to be decent people, but they have yet the dignity that they deserve. Their plight receive no attention except minor symbolism of alms that these donors trumpeted in front of our relatives at the expense of our reputation. My success is cast into mediocrity because I belong to the Bong family. It is impossible that the son of a poor family could be so capable. It is impossible that those I do not like could be better than me.

Who am I? I have no past, heritage, wealth or status with which I can guarantee my pride and confidence. It seems only those who are calculative, greedy and opportunistic will get what they want. It's hypocrisy and fascade that paves a smoother road to success and respect.

Lee Hsien Loong recently commented on the Hakka cultural heritage as being that of indomitability and tenacity. I now do recognise that I cannot run away from my own heritage; I cannot completely remove this attitude and outlook that my father had inculcated in me; for I remain stubborn to give up my values for the easier route. And yet I fear that that will one day be my undoing.

It isn't hope that is keeping me alive now and still struggling. It is indomitability and tenacity.

Singing for Christmas

2009-12-07T13:12:00.001+08:00

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

Fate

2009-11-20T10:54:00.002+08:00

It concerns a farmer who wakes up to find that his horse has run off.

The neighbours come by and say, "Too bad. Such awful luck."

The farmer says, "Maybe."

The next day, the horse returns with a few wild horses. The neighbours congratulate the farmer on his reversal of fortune.

"Maybe," the farmer says.

When his son tries to ride one of the untamed horses, he breaks his leg and the neighbours offer their sympathy.

"Maybe," the farmer says.

The next day, the military officials come to draft young men into the army. Seeing that the son's leg was broken, they passes him by. The neighbours congratulate the farmer on how well things had turned out.

"Maybe," said the farmer.

My moment of clarity

2009-11-18T17:09:00.003+08:00

Embrace whatever comes your way,
Raise your head above the fray,
Keep your senses when others have lost theirs,
Steady while others grew anxious,
Clarity while others are confused;

If you could do all that, a job well done, my friend

Moving on

2009-10-29T10:42:00.003+08:00

Forgiveness paves the way for self-realization. It puts the past behind us, and move us ahead. Past is past, there is nothing you can do, save reflect purposefully. Forgiving ourselves is as important as forgiving others, if not more. Everybody is the same.

I am nobody, and so are you. See, the beauty of the human race is that it forms a larger single entity, how we the constituents react to each other, and how we behave, forms a dynamic interaction which is humanity.

To forgive yourself, allows you to focus on what's now. Humans lack resources to make up for every injustice, sin, wrong or crime. We all fall within the bigger scheme of things.

Now listen, you only exist for the most a hundred years, but humanity is here to stay, and we've done so for the past 300 millennia, a job well done. But take note; your productivity and service is at it peak in your youth, your leadership and wisdom is valued when you've passed the age of 40. But once you've passed through all those phases, there's no turning back. It's like driving a race car, and you're approaching a sharp bend, it's now or never, you have to do it right.

Get it going now. Don't stop.

Obsession

2009-10-27T04:44:00.001+08:00

It is said that there is desperation within every human being. It was a sermon I heard a few years back. Still a secondary school student, and not accustomed to the outside world, it provides me a preview of what life to most adults are.

We're desperate for something, desperate for attention, desperate for fame, desperate for success.

Is this the common thread of humanity? We are obsessed with how we feel, our needs, desires or ambition, that pausing at one point would reveal the ludicrousness of our preoccupation. Sometimes by our conscious strength we remind ourselves that, or we try to be content with what we're blessed with. But none of that can guarantee that we won't resume our obsession thereafter.

If we have nothing to live for, but ourselves or if what only concerns God is our happiness, wouldn't it be wise to just let go of all that? If we doggedly pursue our obsession, whether it is noble, materialistic or ingenious, wouldn't that send us further down into the pit of obsession, until it become so hard for us to reach for the surface?

Would we dare to just give up everything, return to our families, return to our home, the simple nostalgia of villages and small towns, the breath of untainted air, the pristine scene of untouched landscape and the sounds of birds chirping in the early morning while they swirl above your heads? Imagine this, think of how our obsessions has ruined other lives until it become a vicious cycle where it calls for the obsessions of others to rectify the previous ones. How a boy who suffered from early injustice, how he witnessed a disparity between the people he met and the values that he was taught. He would have grown obsessed with his own mission to rectify all that. How the Malay nationalism causes a young Chinese man to give up on comfortable life, only to meet his death right before his marriage, before he could see his son. How past colonialism carved an embarrassing scar on the psyche of the Middle East that further become the breeding ground for extremism and intolerance. How these ideologies took hold in a Southeast Asian country where it becomes irreconcilable with other coexisting beliefs.

Think, your obsession is not the solution of your predicament.

Transience

2009-10-04T23:45:00.004+08:00

Continued from Hell, And so it ends and A new friend

Dennis jumped up from his sleep. A horrible nightmare it was. The surrounding was dark. At the age of six, this nightmare would be remembered for the rest of his life, much to his ignorance.

Tears were welling in his eyes. He now learnt to fear what he sees and loves at present. He now realized that the persons whom he called mother and father would one day be gone from his life to an unknown destination.

He leaped from his bed and ran to his parents' bedroom. The knob refused to give way. He stepped back and his instincts prompted him to hit the door. Instead he let himself fell to floor, buttocks first.

Cuddled to his knees, in the cold night with the occasional wind blowing down the corridor, Dennis knew not what to make of his dreams. The transience of the world shocked him. How to love when you know they'll only go away eventually? When the cold winds seem more permanent than the warm embrace of his mother. I pity this boy who have to see all this at a very early age, that he knows what he could not comprehend yet. What's more of the predicaments that is about to befall on him as he grows up.

Dennis, knowing him as I know him, rose to his feet and turned to his bedroom. Wiping off the tears off his cheeks, for reasons that are not immediately apparent to him, he decided to let himself forget what had confronted him. Tucking himself into bed, he closed his eyes and awaited the other day.

By a single thread

2009-09-22T02:22:00.002+08:00

Life seems to be hanging by a single thread, as the sun sets by.

Nothing seems permanent, save our endless quest for eternity and bliss.

What are we, if we’re just these beasts fooled into thinking we’re meant for something more than the animals could claim from nature.

It’s sad to think that our world revolves around dreams and ambitions, spinning and spinning in the ever endless cycle of struggle over who is the fittest.

Are we not haunted by the fear of being miserable and of inconsequence? Did we not later cloak it with some higher abstract values or far-fetched ambition worthy to be counted as standing out from the many useless selfish and ruthless desires.

God, where are you?

Fuck it, what is this shit!

At the dialysis centre

2009-08-31T10:20:00.002+08:00

It’s 10 a.m., and there was only dull silence; accentuated by the sound of the machines’ pumps and wheels, as well as the occasional dim screech. Some of its patients coughed; many are covered in blankets, and the man from just across the floor was peeling the wrappers off his sweets with one hand while the other lay motionless as its blood flows out in unnatural rhythm; through the plastic thin tube, then squeezed on by the wheels so that the blood flows to the rest of the machine. The cleaning process occurred in a tube; not dissimilar to the one you would use to filter water.

My mother was lying next to me in her inclining chair, as she too partook in this treatment together with the other 30 or so patients. About an hour ago, the nurse superintendent came to help my mom to set up the dialysis machine. With a book in my hands, I could only sat idly by as she ran her hands all over the tubes and pressing the machine’s buttons with the skill and speed that impressed as much as it confused me. But one can’t help to wonder what lies behind that diligence which a woman in her 50s had exhibited; what could have spurred her on to take up such a demanding job.

I know that I face with a personality crisis of sorts; I desire to succeed as a lawyer, or in any capacity to make a meaningful difference for this world, but somehow reality demands that I adopt a certain set of behaviors and attitudes. It spells practicality, and it may connote little of my values and idealism. It’s something that makes you say, “If you can’t beat them, join them.” But what use are your endeavors if they only extend and propagate the kind of culture and expectation that I vowed myself to defeat. I see, with some sense of disappointment, how some people have to maintain a certain distance and adopt a certain attitude to command respect and control. Sometimes it smacks of arrogance, conceit and utter ignorance of the kind of difficulties others may have, the predicament which we may not understand, but whose plight we seek to reduce. That is one example of many compromises that the world demands and I’m not sure if I want to travel down that road.

On this Merdeka day, I decided to participate in the fasting of Ramadhan, for a day at least; and it’s neither difficult nor as bad an experience. I think I’m enjoying it. It seems fasting really helps you to achieve a degree of inner peace; your mind becomes more focused and purposeful when you’re resolved to abstain from the gratifying effects of food and drink. You feel empowered. My own motivation for fasting isn’t for reasons that are spiritual in nature. It’s practical for I think it’s a good way to discipline myself. But more importantly, I learn patience.

For the world may demand compromise, but I can outmaneuver it with patience.

Salam Satu Malaysia dan Selamat Berpuasa.

Purpose

2009-08-24T20:34:00.002+08:00

My cousins have grown up a lot. I used to play with them when I was a teenager. Now the eldest sister seemed to have shed her chubby cheeks. Her smile now is far more meek than it was cheerful as it used to be. The younger brother doesn't change much in terms of look, just the size. You could imagine him like an oversized teddy bear. He has grown away from the cuddly adorable type to a more grumpy cute one.

As my aunt guided them out of the house, I made a few laughs (trying my best to be friendly) and greeted them goodbye. But she just left with hardly any glance at me, not even a slight one.

If my purpose lies in making this place a better one for the people around me, for whose benefit really are my struggles? What is the meaning of my ambition? Is it merely to boost my self-esteem and status? Or was it for the people, as a contributory act to vindicate their pains, to prove that the values they want to hold dear to is nothing short of real and workable? But if people were the reason that I hold strong to my ideals, than it must be the people I am closest to, or I've encountered for the most part of my life, who occupy the top of the list. They must have been in my mind in deepest of my struggles, to give me strength. Maybe except for my family and a few friends, this is not the case.

The truth is I am not sure to what extent my own family really understand the nature and the purpose of my struggles. The other truth is I am helplessly distant from my relatives, even the ones who helped me a great deal. I felt that there are certain injustices that my family suffered for which I hold deeply-buried grudges against the world.

I still lived and persevered to undo this state of existence, this is as much I know. It feels like an unending crusade in the middle of a hostile desert. You see victory nowhere close in hand. Worse, you can't even be sure what your fight amounts to.

How it feels to 'win'

2009-08-12T21:19:00.010+08:00

Victory was sweet indeed. Our hearts wrenched in silent anxiety just moments ago, then relieved and glad that our efforts paid off.

And so erodes away my doubt as to the value of hardwork, discipline and persistent optimism.

I learnt that I need friends like Navin, honest, willing to listen. More importantly, he is sincere enough about my well-being to give his views which are contrary to mine. Jagan, the distance under the hot sun he walked to get me a Coke, so that I'll be fully awake for the afternoon round. Chiew Ee went with him, and by the grace of God, they found a shop selling the soft drink although most shops nearby were closed.

Speaking of Chiew Ee, her empathy makes her a good teammate to work with, a leader whom you can trust. Rebecca, bless this girl, ever mindful of her place among her friends and family. The encouragement and the praise she gave, assures you that whatever and however you do, you'll get some recognition from a friend or two.

Had it not been for them, the journey to Ho Chi Minh would be barren and shadowed by clouds of doubt.

It's a story that began with a defeat of an inexperienced team. It began with a coach from the other team who came to join us as we immersed in the sea of sorrow and regret. It went on with our first coach having to leave for South Asia and a hectic office, but his calm wise shadow persist in our minds and values; to be replaced with a newly-graduated lecturer who tried to keep the whole team together for three consecutive tournaments. Today it continues with a team bonded by a common experience and common friends.

I learnt that there is some gratification from knowing that you are 'the best'; but joy, pure joy, comes from knowing that you have played your part well in bringing the ship through the stormy seas to the calm blissful coast. No greater satisfaction can there be than knowing that you have competed honourably (whether you win or lose), and in the course of it all, extend a hand of goodwill to opponents and strangers.

For humanity lives not on food and water; it lives and breathes on the hope that such goodwill shall prevail.

We all believe in one God; There is no god but God

2009-07-31T01:12:00.004+08:00

Look, my God is your God, your God is my God, He is our God. We all like to think we got it right about the Big Man, but none of us can be completely right, can we?

So, settle down, and let's pray together.

(Feel free to leave your prayers below as comments)

Sense of Belonging

2009-07-25T01:35:00.011+08:00

The train stopped at KL Sentral at 6:06 pm; far earlier than I estimated. I pushed myself through the crowd, out of the train and then to the stairs leading to the lower floor.

At the top landing, a white stick emerge from behind me. A blind Chinese man was using it to find the edge of the landing. Initially I took quick glances at him; the man fashioned a pony tail and a simple white shirt. He was alone, there was no one to guide him down the stairs. Hesitated, I took a path on the other side of the railing, effectively putting a barrier between myself and him. Then without warning, the man slipped, and as quickly a young Malay woman dashed past me and grabbed the man.

I felt ashamed; it seems that my instinct was to have nothing to do with him. Instead it was a Malay woman who took notice of him and decided to walk beside him in case he fall. She wore a traditional tudung with no sign of liberal modern upbringing.

So I asked myself, why?

Growing up, I have to accept that I'm different. I speak differently, I think differently. I see a lot of things that most will not bother to think about.

My desire to pierce the veil of superficiality. To look behind that heavy curtain of customs and taboos.

Many events have taught me that there is a huge disparity between what we hold ourselves out to be, and our true nature, our needs.

How that old couple feel when they watch a Taiwanese game show which appears to define their world as belonging only to healthy, pretty young ladies with long legs and smooth skins; Advertisements which shows only an image of ideal family, with obedient children, in lavish houses complete with expensive kitchen facilities. How would the old man feel about his place in this world; whose social skills froze at a time when he was still in kindergarten and when no one seem to pay any attention to this shy boy.

How about the Bumiputera woman who prepares my favourite Chinese kolo mee, who might have migrated into this Chinese community in the Peninsular, heavily defined by its Chinese culture to the exclusion of the bordering Malay community around it. How would she and her sister feel, when they tried to start a chat in Cantonese with that lonely old man. Alas, he chose only to speak to himself, and resumed his work when no other Chinese seemed to bother.

How about the Indian men I saw at one of the exclusively Indian food stall (or just that few people of other race would prefer to eat there), the kind of arrogance they exude to mask their own low self-esteem, their own insecurities. Their persistence to ignore the disparity between their real underlying desires and the societal expectation of them. It's as if they have been brought up to live up to an expectation that they are to be like those heroes we see in Indian movies all the time; perfect, manly and secure. Little room for insecurity, deep reflection, and honest inquiry into the soul, but so much more for aggression and egoism.

With these observations, and the many others, I can't help to feel how different I am from them. It's always me and them, not us.

This is perhaps one of the many possibilities that could explain my lack of generous instinct for the blind Chinese man. I could not see myself as his brother; a fellow countryman. Distinct, living in an alternate universe, parallel to his, but wholly apart, I feel like a ghost next to him.

Maybe that's what I am now, a dehumanized ghost, devoid of empathy.

It is said that every human being seeks a sense of belonging. I remember my search when I first entered UKM, I remember that I openly cited that as a reason I joined choir, acting class, debate, Red Crescent Organization, Tanglung Festival organizing committee in my resident college and AIESEC. When I stepped foot into law school, I thought that this could be where I shall find my sense of belonging.

Now, I could not remember when it ended. I guess that's where my mistake lies; that I stopped searching. Perhaps what has been my underlying desire was really that sense of belonging all along; where my achievements means something, and not just to myself; where I can anchor my purpose and then sail in definite confidence.

Where it's not just me and the world; but us.

السلام عليكم

2009-07-13T03:53:00.012+08:00

'Hejaab' by khashi /CC BY 2.0

Peace be upon you I say. Assalamualaikum. And I really mean it. Some may say it out to trumpet their piousness, but I, against the background of uncertainty, really wish your heart to be at peace. That some measure of security will house your soul as it cruise upon the seas, whose weathers and waves are as uncertain as the tantrum of a little child. So peace be upon you, I say.

Allahu Akbar. And I say this not to strike fear and awe in you. Neither do you see me holding an RPG nor am I wielding an AK-47 proudly. I cry Allahu Akbar as the People of Israel cried out to Him millenia ago. To be free from the Pharoahs' oppression, yearning for a free life. And so did Allah send a leader among them, to demand their freedom.

So yes, I call upon Him to set us free from the oppression by those who claim to represent Him. For His values are timeless and are not reduced to rituals and customs. His are that of Justice, the honouring of our Free Will, the Call to true piety and humility. And so I called Allahu Akbar that I be allowed to wear jeans, play rap music, paint my own graffiti and that my women be allowed to choose to wear hijab, tudung, chador, niqab or burqa as they like. As regards to the veil, why should they practice such dressing of Byzantine origin when the Quran calls for modesty, which means more than a mandatory covering of the awrah.

Yes, in fact, did it not call on both men and women for modesty? If a woman choose to cover up, or wear decent clothes such as enough to not arouse anyone, would that not be the highest form of modesty? If you force upon them the veil, would that not be imprisonment? For truthfully, modesty has its meanings and praiseworthiness from choice and not by law. Cast the veil upon your women, and you cast only darkness as opposed to the light of the Surah Al-Nur. For light only comes from women who choose to be modest, for that is a reflection of their maturity, restraint and praiseworthiness. Such reflection cannot be seen from those you imprisoned in the name of hijab.

Verily, men too are obliged to be modest. I am called upon to maintain a modest gaze, I am called upon to form relationships with women based not on our sexuality. They are not my sexual objects but are dignified human beings. I'm called upon to exercise my choice. Therefore my sexuality is within my rationality, and should have no other be blamed for it.

"Say to the believing men that they lower their gaze and restrain their sexual passions. That is purer for them. Surely Allah is Aware of what they do"

"And say to the believing women that they lower their gaze and restrain their sexual passions and do not display their adornment except what appears thereof. -- And let them wear their head-coverings over their bosoms."
Surah Al-Nur 24: 30 -31.

And were not the veil meant to reflect the stature of the Prophet Muhammad's wives and the wives of believers, but now you decree to all women to cover up, for otherwise we shall rape them.

"O wives of the Prophet, you are not like any other women. If you would keep your duty, be nor soft in speech, lest he in whose heart is a disease yearn; and speak a word of goodness. And stay in your houses and display not your beauty like the displaying of the ignorance of yore; and keep up prayer, and pay the poor-rate, and obey Allah and His Messenger, Allah only desires to take away uncleanness from you, O people of the household, and to purify you a (thorough) purifying."
Surah Al-Ahzab 33:32 - 33
read together with:

"Those who harass believing men and believing women undeservedly, bear (on themselves) a calumny and a grievous sin. O Prophet! Tell thy wives and daughters, and the the wives of true believers, that they should cast their outer garments over their persons (when abroad): that is most convenient, that they should be distinguished and not be molested. And Allah is ever Forgiving, Most Merciful."
Surah Al-Ahzab 33:58 - 59

And so I call upon you. That you respect choice and free will. Spare your words, and don't find war among your own people. Make love and peace with your women, and such love and peace can only be reciprocated out of free will.

So I say to you, السلام عليكم (Assalamualaikum).

Prayer

2009-07-12T13:35:00.005+08:00

Dear God,

I thank You for putting me through those tough times.

You marooned me in the desert, through no fault of my own. In fact, You let my ideals drive me to desolation.

Now, many years have passed, and I see what I see now. Know what I know now. The game that I must play.

It is up to me to distinguish real friends from the collage of faces I see. For the few, I shall trust them. For the many, I shall have them at my arm's length.

I see now that I don't need to compromise my values. I only need to know that my choice, my principles worth no less than any. I only need patience. My subtletly shall be guided by my understanding.

Regardless of how much I know the nature of people, sometimes I have to play You to a certain extent, from a distance.

Many are not capable of understanding their own insecurities, and some of them will pit others against a blacksheep. Ideally that blacksheep must be the embodiment of the better self they could have been, but they chose not to see, because they will not let go the certainty and stability that comes with not understanding themselves... their insecurities... and continue to play by the same rules that they're used to.

So it's better not to upset them, or their world. It's better to hold on to what I know and act accordingly, even if it means putting up a fascade. For it's worth it. Only then can I buy time to reveal my message.

I see now what You've been trying to tell me. And I thank You for that.

It's so worth it.

Amen.

The Height of Ambition and the Perseverance of a Dwarf

2009-07-04T04:02:00.002+08:00

Dear Iranians

2009-06-28T15:32:00.005+08:00

I share with you your pain, though I can only imagine very little of your suffering, disappointment and depression at this moment. You must have felt very lonely now, as if you are running into a dead end, when all you did was to fight for what is right. And with that all your hope and dignity seem to wither away.

On behalf of the world, I'm sorry.

You are neither dead, nor will you die.
You will always remain alive
You have an eternal existence.
You are the voice ("Neda") of the people of Iran

Simin Behbahani (June 2009)

Jeans and Broken Bricks

2009-06-21T17:36:00.017+08:00

There was a woman, in her late twenties. Yesterday morning she woke up, put on her scarf over her highlighted hair, her lipstick, her makeup. She pulled up her jeans, and slipped her feet into her shoes.

As she opened the door of her apartment, she saw thousands of her fellow countrymen, all streamed in the direction of the sunrise in the desire of a new hope and freedom. But today there's none of that hope for all of that had been trumped by a delusional dictator, all for the need to preserve power and control. His self-denial of their humanity and the modernity that surrounds him, where religion isn't in the driver's seat anymore.

She walked down the concrete stairs, and soon found herself with strangers of Tehran. "Assalamualaikum," she greeted peace to them in the fresh morning air. She heard news of police clampdown, scared she did feel but with the strong men in her company she has nothing to be afraid of.

Later in the afternoon, she was with them hurling rocks and broken bricks at the paramilitary troops. Cheers erupted as the troops retreated behind a corner a few blocks away.

But out of nowhere, a scream of gunshots streamed past them like a dashing furious river. And one bullet caught her, just below the neck...

And how shocked she felt that that will all be it. The dignity of her life that she stood up for, the conversations she had with friends in coffeeshops, the hand of her boyfriend she tenderly held under the eyes of the Basij.

A few men rushed to drag her away from the shooting scene but the world was fading, and somehow it presented more joy to her than the world she grew up in. But at the same time she could not be sure if her death would worth all that she and her friends desired.

One of the men frantically stanched the wound. But to no reasonable eyes did it promise any measure of success. The other men were begging her to not give up, to stay on. Her eyes wandered among these noble people that she was proud to walk with, with whom she had chanted and marched in defiance of the overarching theocratic regime.

As her wide shocked eyes lost their last visible sign of life, and rolled weakly to the ground, shrieks and cries of anguish broke out in her vicinity. Blood quickly flowed from her mouth and nose. And as swiftly her lifeless eyes were flooded with crimson red.

I mourn and stand at this moment with the Iranians.

Iran: A nation of bloggers

2009-06-14T22:19:00.005+08:00

I found this video from the Huffington Post page that reports on the riot in Tehran. It is happening now as we speak. My heart and prayers with the Iranians. I pray that they will achieve the freedom that they so deserved.

When it was all well

2009-06-13T15:04:00.015+08:00

Light bulbs of variant colours strewn below the starlit sky. Music, guitars and drums blasted the air as the crowd moved in one synchronised motion, up and down to the upbeat melody.The singer cried out the emotion in resonance to what they were feeling that night. Alcohol. Boys and girls. Hugs, kisses. Giggles and charming smile.

He made his way through them while flowing skirts greeted him along the aisle. Guys are dancing with light steps on the dancing floor while their eyes fixed on those of their partners'. The timeless ritual of courting, diverse and transcends all cultures and most creatures. The natural bondness between a man and a woman, across the divide of mutual differences, stays with them, from the dance floor to the privacy of their rooms. From their beds to the morning call for breakfast.

As the music stops, he finally saw where she was, sitting with her thighs held close together with her feet spread apart. Her dark green gown matches her perfectly tanned skin. With drinks in both hands, he introduced himself and so did she. And that was how their night began.

_________________________

They later got together again. This time with families and friends. On the shores of the famous Mediterranean beach, before the bright clear sky above the wide sea. With sea gulls dotting the landscape, the priest uttered these words:

"I hereby pronounce you as man and wife."

Clapping of hands then followed, both those of the young and the old. Popping of expensive champagne bottles, young couples held their hands even more closely, inspired by this newly-weds. The old ones leaned on each other, reminded of their own journey.

Amid the celebration, he felt grateful, heart warmed, to be the luckiest man to find the perfect woman. He stared at her, and whispered this:

"I love you. You have no idea how happy I am."

She smiled, and returned him with a stare that he would expect.

"I love you too."

_________________________

The days that followed went by like any typical newly-married couple. They soon greeted their first baby, and now they are a family for the first time. It was then followed by all the concerns and things that any family would be dealing with. From the purchase of diapers to a new baby crib. From taking turn to carry her to rearranging financial priorities.

However, just like some couples, difficulties soon arise until it was only the child that held them together. Without the child, things would have been disturbingly different.

He got home from work, from a stressful day, like any other working days. Door opened, and he saw his wife feeding their 5-year-old daughter. But the image did not present to him an unequivocal comfort. It was mixed feelings. Questions began to surface as to how he actually felt about her now but not alarming enough to preoccupy his thoughts.

Several steps to the child, and she did not turn up to look at him. The child did, and how glad she was to see him, smiling with her small baby teeth shown. And it was her that he felt unequivocal, undoubted affection and comfort. My daughter, he thought. But only if she had been our daughter too.

_________________________

A body fell heavily to the floor with a heavy thud. Sweat trickled down his temples, throbbing with uncontrollable fury. Moments ago, he had grabbed her by the collar of her blouse and threw her off. As a result her head knocked the night stand, the lamp on top shook and it almost fell on her, threatening to seal whatever damage he might have wreaked already. Before that, they had got home from his company's dinner party and both had settled into sofas, different sofas with some distance apart. Quarrels had erupted unexpectedly, and he couldn't understand how he got into this.

The body moved. She was still alive. As she rose up, he could see blood on the floor where her 'dead' face had laid. She quickly ran to the door, he tried to stop her, sincerely wanting to check on her injury. This time she did turn up to look at him alright, but her forehead was so seriously bruised that blood covered her left eye and all that made the bitterness between them more pronounced. What he saw now out of her own eyes was hatred and anger. It was an understatement that apology was not enough now. In fact not that it would be inappropriate, far more than that, it would only be cruel.

"Mommy, daddy?" he could hear his daughter through the door. She didn't hesitate, she yanked the door opened. No sooner had her hateful image dissipated than the person itself disappeared.

"Mommy..." This time the voice was clogged with tears and shock.

His right hand was now covered with blood.

What had gone wrong?

Iran's Green Tsunami?

2009-06-12T14:40:00.002+08:00

Moving on without Him

2009-06-11T08:25:00.004+08:00

Originally published on 25 July 2008 under 'Atheism', now republished in conjunction with the recent publication of Robert Wright's book "The Evolution of God"

A child of the mob once asked an astronomer who the father was who engendered him in this world? The scholar pointed to the sky, and to an old man sitting, and said: “That one there is your body’s father, and that your soul’s.” To which the boy replied: “WHAT IS ABOVE US IS OF NO CONCERN TO US, and I’m ashamed to be the child of such an aged man!” O WHAT SUPREME impiety, not to want to recognize your father, and not to think God is your maker!
- Barthélémy Aneau

The statement is an example of atheism's relation to immorality. Growing up in Malaysian society, I had always been used to the idea that morality comes from God, and with God only would morality makes sense.

However, most of our moralities today did not come from the Bible, or the other so-called God-inspired texts. On this I agree with Richard Dawkins, author of the book "the God Delusion". In fact, most of our moralities are shaped and formed by human experience, our rationality, our philosophies, our wars, our own sufferings, our history. It is guided today by our communities' sensibilities. I'd agree though that these God-inspired texts do inspires and motivates us to do the right thing. But I also believe that humankind will one day mature and be confident to rely on its own intellect.

I do not think that we need a God who in the past condones a mass rape of virgins, inhumane slaughter of the Jews who were fighting to defend their way of life or command you to kill your brother for his unbelief, and who seemed to only recently shares our compassion for human rights and religious plurality. I appreciate the effort done by millions of religious leaders in presenting this God as compassionate and merciful, benevolent, the teachers who appeals for moderation and sensibility towards others' rights, despite the persistent call from the religious text to feel contempt for those who do not believe.

We do not need God. We are made to think we are too weak to breathe on our own. In fact, we ought to know that, religious doctrines are not to be taken too seriously. It was never at one point in time that our forest-foraging ancestors could identify with this God. Humanity, in the early days, with its highly-evolved cerebral cortex could not comprehend disasters and diseases with so little the knowledge they had. So came anxiety and thus the need to appease the "spirits" wherever they are. Then animism cease to make sense to most of us, then we progress to polytheism and then to monotheism. Monotheism began with the belief of a supreme almighty God above all the lower deities, then progress to a lone personal omniscience omnipotent God with the deities 'demoted' to ranks of 'angels'. Today, with modern science that challenge traditional monotheism, it just makes more sense that we refer to God as a metaphor of the Universe and Nature itself, passive and stripped of his human emotions like anger, with which he was formerly associated with. And guess what, atheism, like monotheism, could be just another progress.

The fear of God doesn't go well with our modern conscience that places value on our freedom of choice. Our worldview has evolved with what we know today, far more than these past well-intentioned religious teachers. The Arabs in the Jahiliyah Age were stuck in their out-dated belief system and ideas. They invested all their resources and energy to no-more worthwhile customs and traditions, like tribe loyalty and honour-killing. Prophet Muhammad was determined to reform the whole Arabian society with new better ideas of monotheism that he gained from his business travel. That is why he placed utmost emphasis on honest knowledge-seeking.

However, if God needs to be displaced in the course of this seek of knowledge, so let it be. It's time that we shake hands with God and thank him for his security and inspiration, without which we wouldn't have made this progress. It's time that we move on, and not to desperately cling onto what's old and familiar.

A new friend

2009-06-06T00:30:00.011+08:00

Continued from 'And so it ends'

The digital display above the lift's door changed to level 12. Dennis stood close to the door, wanting to step out as soon as he can.

The lift stopped to a thud and a shiver, and the metal door slided open. The light of the setting sun blazed straight into his eyes, and against that sunlight, a woman was sitting on the bare ground facing the open air. A lit cigarette between her fingers, clad in black jeans and red spaghetti top, she appeared to be checking out on her phone.

Realising he had stood before in the lift for a second longer than usual, Dennis heaved his feet out of the lift, walked past her at a distance as he cornered into the corridor leading to his aparment.

With her tall slim figure and dark hair, she was attractive. With a pinch of regret, Dennis tried to walked at a normal pace to his door. The woman seemed sad, he thought to himself. Just as he was now. With a such a brisk end to their more than two years of relationship, their romance, their suffering and their affection ended like a cruel joke. No more the future they had tried to build together, no more the promise they made sacred before God, no more that sweet tragic past they shared... no more.

Pulling out the keys felt like summoning an absent strength, when the heart is heaving with piercing pain. Drawing a deep breath, Dennis turned away and walked back to the balcony.

She was still there, but no longer holding her phone.

"Hi."

The woman stared at the stranger and said nothing. Her heavy eyeliner and mascara did nothing but emphasised all the more her disbelief.

Dennis continued, "Can I have one of those?" gesturing towards the pack of cigarettes she laid on the ground. Without hesitation, she picked up the pack and flimsily thrust it forward like an offer of friendship.

Finding it rather amusing, he sat himself down beside her. With a stick between his lips, she tried to lit it with her lighter, held up eagerly with both her hands. Breathing in the smoke, he felt a surge of new warmth and calm. He turned to look at the open sky view. The KLCC towers soared high above the cluster of other skycrapers. Both stared at the same direction as the sun set behind the city.

As he puffed out the smoke, it diffused into the wide space before him.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Risha."

Jesus the Sociologist

2009-05-29T08:06:00.017+08:00

The more I read about social constructionism, and Durkheim's work, I can't help to draw comparison with Jesus' teachings and ask to what extent Christians today live up to his calling?

Beginning with the Sermont of the Mount, he declared the outcasts of societies, the prostitutes, the poor, the tax collectors, the lowlies, if you will, and by extension anyone deemed less favourably by society, as the blesseds.

Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those mourn,
for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek,
for they will inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they will be filled.

However, in modern conservative societies in America, we tend to see the reverse. The Republicans, most of whom are so-called pro-life, against gay marriage and against higher income taxes for the rich seem to go in every way against his basic teachings. When someone asked him if it's right to pay taxes to Caesar, Jesus answered that one should give what is rightfully Caesar's and unto God what is rightfully God's. In addition to associating himself with tax collectors (who are deemed morally inferior by Jewish communities at that time), he acknowledged that there is such a need as to pay tax. The face on the coin was that of Caesar's, and rightfully the government of Israel and the region of Judea was the Roman government; as such the citizens and subjects of the Rome, including the Israelites, should pay tax to the government.

In fact, while the Jews looked forward to the Messiah who they thought would liberate them from the political grip of the Romans, Jesus all the while led a rebellion against the religious elite of the Jews, the Pharisees, the Sadducees and the Temple elders and priests. He sought to empower and embolden the common members of the religious community, to worship God in spirit and in truth. He by extension sought to break up the monopoly of the elders of the moral discourse and spirituality of the people.

"Believe me, woman, a time is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem"

"The Kingdom of God does not come with your careful observation, nor will people say,'Here it is,' or 'There it is,' because the kingdom of God is within you."

One cannot be wrong to say that Jesus did not even intend an organized religion, and in this respect he would agree with Abraham Lincoln. He did not found Chrisitianity. He sought a democratization, individualisation and liberation of faith from the rigidity of traditions and doctrines.

If one were to look through the gospels, no where did he define sin or set out the rules and customs to replace the Old Covenant. In fact, he sought to rely only on the underlying principle that gives meaning to the Law of Moses.

"The most important one," answered Jesus, "is this: 'Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.' The second is this: 'Love your neighbour as yourself.' There is no commandment greater than these."

Now why do the Christian conservatives consider homosexuality a sin? And shouldn't they deserve the same right to family as anyone else? The story of Sodom (Genesis 19) itself doesn't necessarily imply homosexuality as a sin, for could it not be the rampant acts and culture of rape, torture and violence was the real reason for the demise of the city? Jesus clearly considered the Tax Collector as more righteous in the eyes of God than the Pharisee who commits no 'sin' (Luke 18:9 -14). And it couldn't be more obvious that he calls on us to not judge another (Luke 6:37 - 42), and coupled with the fact that he did not define what he meant by sin, and the fact that he paid little significance to the state of sinfulness, surely he would not envisage a spiritual society that lives by rules that designate which acts or nature are sins, on which we judge others as sinners.

The Tax Collector was not in the state of shame of what he had done or who he was, but had arrived and embraced who he is and the reality of his relationship with God upon self-reflection, not necessarily within the context of religious rules and social conventions. The use of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector personas was Jesus' means of illustrating society's misguided labelling of sinners. For him, we are not measured by God in terms of sins or the reputation the society gives us depending on how well we comply with its social conventions. But we are measured by our love to Him, the effort we put in to discover God's call, the humility we clothe ourselves upon the realisation that we could be wrong, for the spiritual journey is not a sure route as the Pharisee would like to assume but mined with doubts and insecurities.

As well as the distance we would travel, to extend the hand of love and good faith to another as we would like for ourselves.

May there be peace.

Previous related entry:

Simple inspiration is all it takes

Painting titled "Sermont on the Mount" by Carl Heinrich Bloch (Wikimedia Commons)

To protect an ancient city, China moves to raze it

2009-05-28T08:13:00.007+08:00

I've just come across an audio slideshow that features pictures of one of China's ancient cities along the Silk Road, Kashgar. The far western city was inhabited mostly by ethnic Uighurs (pronounced WEE-gur). It is said to be “the best-preserved example of a traditional Islamic city to be found anywhere in central Asia." It is at least a millenium old city, with mud-and-straw buildings and donkey-cart alleys.

Sadly however, the Chinese government is now demolishing some part of the city and is beginning to replace some of the 13,000 local families. The reason cited by Chinese government offficials was to replace the buildings with modern ones that can better withstand earthquakes. The plan was to eventually replace 85% of the ancient city landscape.

According to the New York Times, it was doubted whether the compensation program for those temporarily displaced would be sufficient and the extent with which the locals were consulted before the demolition took place. One family were forced to move into a distant apartment and they had to close their shop, their only source of livelihood. Accounts by residents said that they were only invited to listen to announcements of compensation sums and eviction timetables.

Oddly enough, despite the officials acknowledging that Kashgar as a major tourism site, the government did not include the city as one of its proposed places to be designated a UN World Heritage site. One of the officials said that there was no archaelogist to monitor the demolition and to identify buildings and areas to be preserved. He said that "the government already knows everything about old Kashgar."

The White Whale

2009-05-23T02:03:00.002+08:00

On the tyrannical captain, Ahab. His motivation to kill the White Whale is as follows;

The White Whale swam before him as the monomaniac incarnation of all those malicious agencies which some deep men feel eating in them, till they are left living on with half a heart and half a lung. That intangible malignity which has been from the beginning; to whose dominion even the modern Christians ascribe one-half of the worlds; which the ancient Ophites of the east reverenced in their statue devil; -- Ahab did not fall down and worship it like them; but deliriously transferring its idea to the abhorred white whale, he pitted himself, all mutilated, against it. All that most maddens and torments; all that stirs up the lees of things; all truth with malice in it; all that cracks the sinews and cakes the brain; all the subtle demonisms of life and thought; all evil, to crazy Ahab, were visibly personified, and made practically assailable in Moby-Dick. He piled upon the whale's white hump the sum of all the general rage and hate felt by his whole race from Adam down; and then, as if his chest had been a mortar, he burst his hot heart's shell upon it.

Craig Ferguson's 'Oops I did it again'

2009-05-21T02:38:00.000+08:00

Presumption of good faith

2009-05-18T04:02:00.009+08:00

In between studies, I listened to Obama's graduation speech at Notre Dame University. And coincidentally I tuned in at the part where I'm interested in, that concerns abortion.

Obama maintained his position on abortion; that women should have the freedom to decide on their own health. But what caught my attention was the call for Americans from both sides of the divide, whether pro-life or pro-choice, to lend a presumption of good faith to another. It simply means this; that while we have every right to argue and defend our ideas passionately, we should not be too ready to assume ill will or bad intention on the part of those who differ from us. People with different ideas, may have them for the best of intentions. It's true how suspicion, and sweeping statement about those we disagree with could drive a wedge in any society. The irony was that while he was giving the speech to thousands of would-be graduates, about a hundred protesters stood outside shouting angry slogans.

He recalled during his Senate campaign when a doctor who described himself a Christian and pro-life wrote him a letter. The doctor told him that he'd like to vote for him, but found it troubling that one of Obama's website messages implied that those who are pro-life as right-wing idealogues. He pointed out that as much as he'd believe Obama to be a reasonable man, the words posted by his staff reflects anything but that attribute. He pleaded that he engage instead with fair-minded words. Not long after that Obama requested the change of the wording. He was humbled by the presumption of good faith that that man has extended to him. That, Obama said is what the American society needs in the debate surrounding abortion (in fact what every democratic society needs). More presumption of good faith on another and a conversation engaged wtih “open hearts, open minds, fair-minded words”.

All that can begin with us, if we choose to lend others a presumption of good faith, it wouldn't be naive to think that there'll be far less of those who'd refuse to return the same.

And so it ends

2009-05-17T02:21:00.016+08:00

Continued from 'Hell'

"SHUT UP!"

"Dear, please listen. How about your future? Your dad, your mom?" a girl pleaded from the other end of the line.

"Don't you understand?! I must do it. That has always been what is wrong with people. They just don't care. I need to stand up for those who are weak!" He could only get louder.

"Honey, you're scaring me."

"I must do whatever it takes! I don't care if it means my life. I don't care if I'm going to suffer or die for it!" Silence followed.

His heart throbbed uneasily. It made him felt so sick, because he knew what would happen next. I'm ready to lose anything to do what is right, even you, he thought to himself.

"Dennis..." The girl sobbed. Their relationship had been fraught with difficulties, hardly bearable for the young couple in their first love. Both aged 21, they were separated by distance for two and a half years, they'd only met for a few times, a total period of no longer than a month.

Lying on the bed, Dennis released his breath. He felt very cold inside. Hundreds of kilometres away, he was alone, he lost all his friends, he abandoned all that he stood for and that which he worked hard for. Four months ago, he stared into the darkness ahead, there was no one else except him sitting on a swing, in the centre of a park, lighted only by a dim lamp post. Sabrina had just cut him off, there was no way he could call back.

"Sorry the number you dialed cannot be reached. Please try again later." It had been more than half an hour, and he still couldn't reach her. When you felt like a total failure, your friends can't really understand you, betrayed and shunned, she was the only lifeline, the only thing that retains your sanity.

His hand holding the phone shook heavily, his breathing became rapid and deep. His back felt so heavy in the cold night, that he bent forward, rested his head on his knees. He looked up and saw only the starry sky, irresponsive to his crisis. Everything was hardly visible beyond the street light.

He fell on his knees. He hesitated whether to call his friend. No, he wasn't going to let his friend see him like this. Not after everything he told him, he would only ashame himself for not being strong enough.

Tears flowed incessantly until it dripped into visible spots on the ground. Cold sweat began trickling from behind his neck and he yelled in an angry roar, "Why God! Why did you put this baggage on me! What do you want from me! I tell you this, I hate you. I curse you!" Pain, nothing but pain filled his whole body, his whole being and consciousness, no space for whatever optimism he'd need to get back to his feet.

"It's just too much. Too much...

"I can't take it anymore! LISTEN TO ME! Leave me alone! Why do I have to be so different. Why do I have to sacrifice so much. What do I get. I got so misunderstood, don't you get it? Can't I just live a normal, happy life. I love her, she's the reason I can be truly happy."

"Dennis..." She found it hard to say what she had to say.

"What is it, Sabrina?" Dennis asked, his thoughts drawn back to the present.

"I... I... I don't think I love you anymore," she replied, quivering.

"Ya, I guess so. Let's call it over then," with a voice more sombre now. He hung up the phone.

____________

Class ended like usual. News travelled quickly about the break-up. It was obvious that his friends became so wary of him, out of concern. He walked in and out of school with a fascade like he hasn't been affected; in fact it was easier than he thought it would be. But going to class had always presented him a disturbing challenge from the beginning, something which he had to get used to; how he could not relate with his friends. What concerns him deeply seemed remote to them. Every time he entered class, he saw and felt only strangers. He could not participate in neither the fun nor drama of their lives. That made him feel distinct and distant from the world that surrounded him.

"Stesen Jelatek," announced the train's PA system. He would leave at the next station.

As the train resumed its journey, leaning against one of the poles, Dennis looked through the windows, and observed the speed at which the landscape passed. One thing comes after another, before you really fix your sight on the first view, buildings rushed in front of it and replaced with a different landscape.

He once imagined that he would be holding Sabrina's hand in the same train when she comes. He had hoped to let her lean on his chest, just as how their love had longed for, the physical closeness and the reassurance she needs.

"Stesen Setiawangsa." He walked out, together with some of the passengers. Now he could notice them more than he ever did. The world around him suddenly changed from how he felt it before. Every sight and sound magnified for him to finally notice. The short journey to his apartment now felt longer. Somehow there was no despair, nor an unbearable sense of depression that he had expected; only emptiness and his increased sense of distance from people but more tuned in to a myriad of their activities, and the accompanying emotions and the features of the physical surrounding.

Maybe it's because he was finally left with only his thoughts, when his feelings now are not taken up by someone else, when he became the sole protagonist of his own story, when it's no longer us, but me alone, before this big whole wide world.

Painting by Jean Jacques Henner, entitled 'Solitude'

Risha

2009-05-13T20:31:00.008+08:00

The day was bright at the outside. Still Risha couldn't find the will to get out of bed. She felt utterly worthless, she hardly commands any respect from 'friends'. That has always been how she felt, and for some reason she couldn't see how things could turn differently.

She hardly has the cash to 'stay in fashion'. Her wardrobe consists mostly of the 80s and 90s wear, some she bought herself after months of saving, some were given by her sisters. Talking about her sisters, unlike her who's still single, they've married wealthy men and have kids.

Risha works as a housemaid at a wealthy household. The place is near a beach. She knew she could feel better if she just rise up and take in the late morning breeze. But it's much more convenient if she could slide her hands down below, the sensation she needs, like a stick of cigarette to relinquish the regrets, the disappointments, the loneliness.

Bang! She quickly turned. It wasn't bang really, more like a hard repetitive knock.

"Mrs Yeo?"

"No, it's Gloria. It's nearly twelve. I helped you with the breakfast. They've all gone out". Mrs Gloria, who has been working at the same household for nearly ten years now. She'd been a great help for Risha, who only came just a few weeks ago.

"Thanks, Mrs Gloria," said Risha, barely audible and loud enough to transcend the wooden door.

"Now quickly get up. We need to prepare lunch. Mrs Yeo will be back by two."

"Okay."

Risha rolled lazily off her bed. The day's getting hotter, and it was hard to keep her eyes open against the blazing sunlight through the window.

She checked herself in the mirror, hair unkempt, with only a shirt on. Mother Mary, what have I gotten myself into, she thought to herself.

_____________

Mrs Gloria felt arms wrapping around her waist as she cut the bitter gout that the boys don't like. She turned around and saw Risha leaning her chin on her shoulder. "Come on now. You haven't brushed your teeth," she said.

"Lazy," Risha replied.

"It's already one. You don't want Mrs Yeo to see you like this."

"Okay" and Risha staggered across to the bathroom.

At least, her arms weren't as cold as when I found her, Gloria whispered in her heart.

_____________

The cold breeze caressed her face, causing more pain in some of the wounds.

Risha stood alone before the sea, looking back every now and then to make sure. The cold rocks on which she stood, wasn't as cold as the pain she was inflicted. Damaging, cruel. The one person she trust, in fact the only one whom she could really trust besides Jesus.

She turned again, the trees were getting darker. Is it safe to walk back, he might be hiding there. But there's nowhere she could go, she had reached the end of the world, in both sense of the phrase.

She clenched her fist around his necktie, determined to end it once and for all. She walked to the nearest tree, tied it hard to one of the branches, and formed a loop. There was a rock that could support her so she could reach the loop.

Nothing could ever be so more welcoming than knowing all this could end. She closed her eyes and put her head through the loop, while tears began to trickle down, her body's shaking awfully, whether it's fear or anticipation she couldn't really tell.

She opened her eyes to take a final look. But as she did so, there was someone standing at where she stood earlier. A sudden sense of familiarity and warmth she felt. She couldn't believe it, hadn't she passed away or so she was told. She held out her arm, trying to reach her, the woman she had been missing a great deal from her life.

The woman hurried towards her. But just as her arms held out, Risha lost her balance, her feet slipped off the rock and her neck caught strangled. A surge of regret and despair streamed through her whole body until there was nothing left to breathe. She struggled to break free, hanging on to her view of the woman as she approached her.

But before she could really see her face, everything became dark.

(Painting by Edward Hopper, entitled 'Summer Interior')

Hell

2009-05-09T12:24:00.012+08:00

Somewhere in the centre of the earth, there was a giant hot core of molten lava and fire. Suspended in the centre of what seemed like a large cave, lined with barren yellow rocks, it grew larger as the boy descended downwards. The surrounding was no doubt eerie, very scary in fact for a little boy at the age of six. But something about the core drew his attention. It seemed to be alive, there was movement, like somebody was trapped in it, bulging at certain places.

Without warning, the core erupted, there were screams, very loud and high. There were millions of them, anguished, tortured voices. Hands were reaching out from every surface to this boy, one naked skeletal figure looked at him with dark hollow sockets where eyes used to be, and the empty mouth hollowed wide howling for the boy to pull him out.

He stepped back, stumbled and fell to the ground. He was too scared to know what he was actually seeing.

___________________

A short while ago, "Come on, Dennis. Put all your stuff back now. It's getting late!" commanded his mom.

"I don't want! Heehee..." the boy replied, giggling.

"Alright. Any idea where the bad guys go if they don't change? Somewhere really bad. If you don't change, one day you'll go there too," warned the mother.

His jaw dropped, so did the ball he was holding.

"Now if you promise you'll be good, I bet you'll be somewhere else where all the good people are, people with wings and shining faces, with sweet voices, forever and ever. Remember those beautiful angels you saw?"

The boy asked, "But... Mommy, will you be there too?" as she carried him to his bedroom.

She nodded her head, kissed the boy on the cheek and as she tucked him into bed, she whispered, "That's where we'll be if we're good to eachother. Love you baby."

"Love you too, Mommy!" and she switched off the light.

___________________

He cried at the horror of these dead people who suffered and seemed so hopeless. Was this just a dream, he asked himself. This may be the place his mom had just told him, this is where bad people are and they are punished for not being good. Still the punishment seemed too much. He felt very sorry for them. "Take them out! Give them a second chance!" the boy shouted to the space above covered by a roof of unusually numerous stalactites, one of which was very long and it hover menacingly over his eyes.

And that moment, he sensed voices that suddenly grew stronger, it had only been at the background, drowned out by the louder screams. This time he could recognize these voices - that of his mother and father.

"Why?!" the boy cried out, his tears burst out in salty gentle stream over his face, as his small shivering body approached his parents' half bodies which struggled to climb out. Despite the shock he could still see his mom's beautiful eyes with her curly hair in flowing white nightgown, the woman he loved so much, but this time she's very pale and weak. They were there because they were each a non-baptized Christian and a Buddhist. It doesn't matter how good they were or what they have done. Before the helpless child, his parents would suffer like this for eternity for something he cannot understand, and it seems there is no way they can escape. Nothing this child can do to help them.

Eternal damnation. Our cruel imagination.

That we call time

2009-05-08T17:19:00.010+08:00

We know that light travels at about 300 000 km in every second. But if you have a spaceship and a torchlight, and your friend fly the spaceship at the speed of 150 000 km/s, which is not impossible, and suppose that you switch on the beam of light off your torchlight only later, would the light catch up with your friend? Well definitely, but more than that, if he has a light speedometer or some way to measure, how fast will that light pass him in relative to his spaceship? It will overtake your friend by 300 000 km/s, not 150 000 km/s (in usual circumstances if Car A and B drives in the same direction and at the speed of 40km/h and 60km/h respectively, Car B will overtake Car A by 20km/h). And even if your friend rev up to 300 000 km/s the light would still overtake him by 300 000 km/s. Well, it's a trite fact for scientists that time has no effect on light.

But time has tremendous effect on us. In fact there's no way we can control time. But we take for granted, in fact it's so entrenched in our outlook that time is always moving forward, and it will not stop. So if we to reexamine this concept of time, and begin asking questions about the fundamental characteristic of time and question why it shouldn't be so-and-so, we would wonder if time is merely an illusion, that it could be like a cartoon animation, which is composed of different frames and pictures, and we see them moving because we are flipping from one frame to another quickly, thus the effect of time for the cartoon characters. Maybe for our world everything that is past, present and future could similarly be coexisting at the same 'time'. Birth and death may be coexisting, that as soon as one of us die, he or she, or rather his/her consciousness would 'wake up' from some dream and find itself being born again into the world in the same circumstances, growing up in the same life, making the same decisions, very well seeing his or her life progress in the same way, assuming there's a way to retain memory after death or unaffected by time. Perhaps Jesus and Mohammad are 'now' preaching at the same time in the truest of meaning. Declaration of Independence could be drafted now at the same 'time' as Tunku Abdul Rahman declare independence as the Hindraf 5 were detained under ISA and al-Qaeda crashing two aeroplanes into New York WTC twin towers.

When I say 'time', I'm not referring to the time that we find out through our watches. For the convenience of making my point here, I'm just assuming that there is some 'higher' time that affects light, and in that dimension of 'higher' time, you could see our human time as non-existent, an illusion to us its slaves and creatures, and all our events, past, present and future laid out before you. As you sit down there enjoying your supra-natural popcorn you see an endless cycle of 'animation' of all these events, all these of course are beyond the reach of our human mind and perception.

So, peace! :)

Quinn Walker - My Road

2009-05-04T14:36:00.000+08:00

Changing the world is stupid, making a difference is noble...

2009-04-29T14:40:00.003+08:00

To those folks out there, and to the terrorists bent on forming a global order;

Changing the World is STUPID! Totally stupid you get it? CraZy... This is a land of more than 6 billion people. Because even if it's left just the two of us in this world, I will always have it my way.

Instead focus on just making a difference, in your life, in your friends' life, for your family, for your community. Leave us alone, alright you freaking fanatics.

I don't need no preachers at my door. Nor do I need you to point a gun at me and expect me to change the way I live... or blow yourself up - instead of 72 virgins, THoUSANds of DEMONS awaits you :>

But there's no stopping to how many you can kill right, there nothing you can do when people get really angry. 'cuz they ain't listening if you piss them off, if you kill their brothers, and sisters, mothers and fathers.

Let people mind their own business, and go f*** yourself. The world isn't black and white, nor is it grey. It's colourful, deal with it, accept it. No such thing as good and evil either. There're only people, and we are people, all kinds of people, no evil people, just us.

Remember, changing the world is stupid, but making a difference, now that's noble!

Chronic loneliness

2009-04-26T22:40:00.003+08:00

The phrase chronic loneliness seems to sum up the human experience that I have been exposed to lately, both in my own life and through the lives of others. The emotion which shadows most of our moves, our behaviour, our tendencies. The most confided emotion, yet the least talked about. Hardly anyone will openly admit the extent of their loneliness, but yet seems to be the common pain that could unite us. What troubles me the most personally, is how little we stood up against it, or prevent it from taking its toll on our decisions and our behaviour.

How desperate we try to make up for that void with whatever is available to us, and pretend that that's what we want, like getting into the wrong relationships. For most of the part we give up who we are, and can't helped but be swept and drawn into the bliss that all of a sudden enwraps our lives, a huge leap from the state of misery to where you finally feel appreciated and loved.

Some of us uphold our own excessive vanity; where our happiness matters more than anything else, where it is inconceivable that others' needs could deserve the same attention, where our own beauty and the pursuit of its perfection are the pillars of our happiness, though a bristle one. We sweep under our consciousness pressing moral questions of our excessive spending, our greed and the little respect and thoughtfulness we have for the perceived lower class. But there's one fear that they will not dare to look, their youth would eventually come to an end. Those who can afford it, would artificially maintain it with Botox or go under the knife.

But this loneliness is not manifested only in expressions of vanity. Some boys, when they fell in love for the first time, thought they found all they need for the rest of their life. It was their ambitions to become the best of the bests for their significant ones. They also thought they could share intimately with her just about anything, their dreams and their deepest problems. Most of them became disappointed at how wrong they think they were about the latter, the girls were perceived to be never emotionally prepared to carry their baggage. And so they broke up, moving on to the next relationships, feeling that they were not good enough, from one to another, with one new precaution in mind; never to open up, or to share your problems. Some instead learn to embrace cigarettes and alcohol, their substitute for true friends who could listen and absorb whatever that these boys want to confide. They can't confide these to the girls, maybe some of their good buddies, but not to those who could be their wives, who they think dreams of solid armoured knight, strong and secured. Some men, in the middle of the road, found themselves helpless, with broken dreams, disturbing soul and restless desire.

Some convert this emptiness into worthwhile pursuits and ambitions, some become better at what they're doing, however mundane they are, some adopt huge dreams, in a way that make up their own insignificance. Being busy has become in a lot of ways helpful, it does effectively keep the minds off. I wonder how far can it go? How far can one doggedly chase after the wind and not stumble upon the rock in the ground? How long can we keep our eyes off the ground and focus on what we desire ahead of us? Before reality finally caught up with us.

I read that there are things that are part of the price of our humanity, and this loneliness is one of these things, just as fear and grief are the common conditions of our human experience. But it's chronic in a way that it seems pervasive and permanent, across society, across age groups, in the eyes of people you see everyday, the strangers you run into at the streets or your friends you think you know well, and even in those who you used to regard as your role models.

No god but God: The Origins, Evolution and Future of Islam

2009-04-22T06:46:00.005+08:00

Here's a speech by Prof. Reza Aslan based on his book, "No god but God", presumably dated around 2005 when George W. Bush was still the American President, when the rhetoric of War on Terror remained the order of the day.

His speech lasts about 20 min followed by 40 min of Q & A. Here he briefly argues about how Islam and democracy can form a single phrase despite the skepticism surrounding Islam's compatibility with democracy. The basic premises of his argument is that democracy is not necessarily secular, but essentially pluralistic. He then proceeds to point out that Islam envisage pluralistic egalitarian society as opposed to a monolithic society. This is supported by Muhammad's message in the Quran and his promotion of progressive rights which were very radical at that time, rights like female spouses' inheritance rights, which took Europe a millenia to follow up.

He advocates the promotion of democracy in the Muslim world, even if it won't be in the same fashion of a strict secular model, but with Islam as its foundation.

As you turn to her

2009-04-19T02:20:00.004+08:00

In the weary night,
As the clock ticks away.
She, with you at your side.
Holding your arm tender,
Her head leans on your shoulder.

As you turn to face her,
The whiff of her hair preludes,
The peace in her eyes that you'll see.
How it soothes your soul,
How the sight of her sings serenity into your ears.

As she raises her head,
As gentle as she opens her eyes,
Her serenity takes backstage,
Her love, her affection to the foreground.

The space around becomes cool and calm,
And silence gives way.
To our intimacy that's bridging us,
From the opposite sides,
Between the stream, in which carries eternity and rhythm
As our love takes over,
Just us and no one else.

That, how it mysteriously sustains a man,
And endows the world a chance of peace.

Situation in Afghanistan

2009-04-02T11:20:00.002+08:00

Part One

Part Two

One does not meet oneself until one catches the reflection from an eye other than human

2009-03-11T21:10:00.007+08:00

"One does not meet oneself until one catches the reflection from an eye other than human"
- Loren Eiseley

In the span of a billion years,
Men is but a tiny twig of the enormous tree of evolutionary history
Why we men are so egoistic,
That we killed brothers for trivial idealogue disputes,
Over resources and enstrange our families,
When we could choose reconciliation and understanding.
Why we had been so stubborn to accept the fact that neither we nor earth is in the centre of the universe
That there's no esteem or special status in the place of humans,
for it is useless to beat the drums of the pride of our tribe,
expecting the thundering sounds to drown the voice of our humility.
Let pride be drawn from our understanding of this humility,
for this tiny twig of ours have only existed for the last 200,000 years
when this earth belonged to the beasts and plants for almost a billion years
Now we think we have the right to poop the waters, fell the mighty ancient trees, wreak havoc on our weathers, irreversible extinction of species.
So desperate are we not, that we cannot, that it is impossible to say to ourselves,
There's no heaven reserved for us.
There's no god
There's no guardian angels
But really there just ourselves, this humble us that existed in the microscopic corner of that huge galaxy.
We the brotherhood of humanity
we have only ourselves, we should be aware of our humility, that neither of us hold the key to the gates of heaven.
Drop the books, drop the robes, drop the sacrifice
Drop your sword, drop your guns and hate
Your anger, your bigotry
For if you live by it, you shall die by it
It is just us you see, not the mighty Zeus that you've been looking for.
Because the God that you're looking for ain't in the clouds above
but in us
Our hearts, our love that we share with people we don't know
That kingdom of heaven you call
That afterlife you work yourself towards to
Exist neither in the time after your death
For it is timeless, it is here, right here,
now.

Mythology

2009-03-08T00:59:00.006+08:00

Staying up late into the wee hours as it's becoming my custom, I retrieved my rosary. I hadn't used it for a long time.

Everybody was asleep, and it was just me in the living room. I set myself in a kneeling position, before the open dark sky beyond the balcony, resting my hands on the back of a chair, I closed my eyes immersing into a deep meditative state. As I count the beads in my right hand, I delve deep into the mysteries. It was effectively Saturday so the mysteries that Catholics are expected to recite are the Joyful mysteries.

Recalling on the Annunciation of the birth of Christ, I wrestled with my doubts as to the authenticity of the story. Did an angel really appear to Mary? Was Jesus really born without a biological father? Were those the exact words that transpired in that encounter? As I move from one small bead to another, reciting the Hail Mary prayer, I recalled Reza Aslan's suggestion in the first chapter of his book "No god but God" that religion is firmly rooted in mythologies.

For example the story of a cloud hovering above Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) while he joined his uncle on caravan trip to Syria. A Christian monk, according to Muslim traditions, was said to have discovered an ancient prophecy that a prophet was to come. In his monastery he noticed the cloud hovered above one of the members of the caravan, the young Prophet Muhammad. He invited all of the members of the caravan to meal in his monastery, and he made it clear that everybody was to come, masters and slaves, adults and children, no one was to be excluded. The members were surprised because eventhough they had passed the monastery many times in their journey to Syria, they had never been invited or even greeted by the monastery. When they arrived in the monastery, the monk was angry that they left the boy behind. The members reasoned because they needed the boy to look after their stuff outside.

Reza Aslan contended that stories such as these didn't happen as a fact. There was no cloud hovering over Muhammad, and when he rested below a tree, the tree did not bend over him to protect him against the torching heat from above. The monk probably didn't exist, and there was no such invitation at all. He said what was important was that these were mythologies filled with important spiritual symbols. It is to convey the message that the Prophet Muhammad's significance and his mission was preordained, before the angel Gabriel appeared to him. It points out to an important metaphysical aspect of the Islamic theology, the thing about fate, about God's will, that he has identified his servant in a very early stage, and held him in high regard to even command the cloud to shield him from the sun's heat without the boy's knowing. The mythology of a young boy's significance in relation to the adults, points to the lessons of humility that adults cannot disregard a young boy's worth and that God did not measure a man by his age or his strength. It's the message that matters, religious stories are so to speak not to be taken as literal facts.

Reza Aslan was not the only one who think the stories are mythologies (which are not necessarily false for it intends to convey a spiritual message and not as historical records, much like parables). It seems that this has been the attitude of some scholars of religious texts. Of late, in some of the masses I attended, the priests seem to me were wary of treating the Gospels as literal facts. In one of the small leaflets they distribute at the entrance, it warned of treating the Scriptures like some Christians do, when they relied on certain passages in the Revelation or the Gospels to support their claim that we're nearing the end of the world. The argument seems to be that by doing so one is diminishing the spiritual value of the Word's symbolisms, as if the Word is more of a literal objective historical document.

In sermons, the priests seem less inclined to treat the Gospel passages as statements or reporting of facts, as much as they rely heavily on the significance of its symbolisms. For example, yesterday's reading was the Jesus' transfiguration on a hill. He relied on the symbolism of Moses and Elijah as representing respectively the Law and the Prophecy, the transfiguration on the hill and their later descent from the hill as representing respectively the experience of God's glory near the heavens and the need to go back down to earth, to the realities of life and the community. This attitude to the Scriptures underscores the significance of the Gospel's symbolisms and its usefulness as an inspiring mythology rather than as historical facts. Mythology must be noted are not to be automatically characterized as a myth in a modern sense. Mythology is more like a parable, it's never intended to be a 100% true story but a story created to summarise a set of complex events in the perspective of the sum of a group's individual experiences, a story to convey a truth.

So that was how I decided to approach the Five Joyful Mysteries. The Annunciation seems deeper now and more meaningful, more reliable as a story, now that I appreciate it more as a mythology rather than to force myself into believing that the event has happened literally. A great deal of this comfort is due to the fact that it makes so much more sense and the honesty in the approach. Because there's more richness in knowing that the story means God can see such high value in a woman in the days when women are ranked second class and can be treated as property. There's more joy in knowing that the story means the mysterious God do not malign the lowly and the poor. That Mary personifies the underdogs of society, the poor, the uneducated, women. That in the greater scheme of things, people like her can be chosen for the most important mission, who in our limited wisdom least expect. That her humility opens the gateway to her becoming the agent of His grand plan.

These stories were not written with accuracy nor with best memory-recalling skills after almost a generation of the man's death. These stories did not concern itself with accurate dating or as an objective report of facts. These stories were intended as parables, parables that developed and evolved in the conversations of the early followers against the background of Jewish and Greek thinking, subsequently settled into the Four Gospels. Their symbols are clear especially to those familiar with the Jewish traditions. They are perhaps written with the foresight that its meanings will transcend across time and different levels of the communities, of different learning backgrounds, age, intellect and culture.

We need these stories because of what they remind us. Even if we are not able to prove the authenticity of their 'facts', or if they were to be later disproved, it doesn't matter. Because trying to prove or disprove them misses the most important point. For it shouldn't matter if they were true or not, what matters are that these are stories that has become the parable and fable of our communities, bringing us closer together, reminding us of our responsibilities, our values, our spirituality, our position and our role in relation to the whole world.

Constellation of Fates

2009-03-04T02:29:00.002+08:00

Dear God,

Staring into the blank space of stars,
I see the reflection of my life and the events of this world.
That like the stars, events are spread far and apart in the space and time of meanings,
each of these events are defined in relation to another.
Zoom out, one sees their connection, even with the most distant of stars,
forming a constellation of fates.

The meaning of events, the purpose of our ordeals, our sufferings, our joys, our triumphs, our blisses. Their true value cannot be discerned instantaneously.
Will only make sense as we cruise further into time, looking back, staring at our space of events, that affects us and others, we see how they interrelated,
the constellation of our fates, gradually mapping out our destinies, with open-ended lines and blurry contours that are yet to be refined.

Such is the constellation of our fates.

Pain is meant to wake us up

2009-02-17T04:08:00.007+08:00

"People are afraid of themselves, of their own reality; their feelings most of all. People talk about how great love is, but that’s bullshit. Love hurts. Feelings are disturbing. People are taught that pain is evil and dangerous. How can they deal with love if they’re afraid to feel? Pain is meant to wake us up. People try to hide their pain. But they’re wrong. Pain is something to carry, like a radio. You feel your strength in the experience of pain. It’s all in how you carry it. That’s what matters. Pain is a feeling. Your feelings are a part of you. Your own reality. If you feel ashamed of them, and hide them, you’re letting society destroy your reality. You should stand up for your right to feel your pain"

- Jim Morrison

I first posted this quote on my Facebook note. I was surprised to find unprecedented number of 'likes' and comments to it. Well, just the 10 of them responded but it's really unprecedented for me.

But I'm actually surprised how this quote strikes the chord with more people than I imagine. It says a lot about the truthness of the experience of pain. Most people I know in my lifetime, especially those closest to me had been sending me signals that pain are to be shamed, swept under the carpet, that we weed out the painful visions before our eyes and embrace the idiom of 'ignorance is a bliss'.

An idiom that I cannot personally accept. I witness how internal pains are rejected and not adequeately addressed, only to be followed by enduring endless series of inactivity, spending hours and days engaging in unbenificial 'past-times', for an over-long period of time, in a false hope that it would slowly drift us away nearer to our fantasy, release us from the troubling grip of realities, to a state we dream for ourselves. A sorry state of bliss. That time, that energy could easily be translated to productive activities and pursuit, that would better guarantee progress and happiness.

A son whose mother selfishly ignored him, refused to reach out to him the love that is so essential to him. She behaved that way because she had recently divorced from the father, and the father chose to please himself with a younger wife, a way to fill up the void in his ego, a way to reassure him of vitality and youth, to distract him from death. That son grew up devoid of a sense of belonging and care, whose mother spent most of the time sitting in her rattan chair, yelling out orders and lectures that seem to aim everyone in the house. That son could only depend on the elder sister's love, her diligence in taking care of him is the closest to a motherly care he ever had. The sister had swore herself to a lifetime commitment to him.

The son grew up to be a father, a father of a friend of mine. And he's always angry, bad-tempered, but just can't seem to find the reason why. He has come to accept that that's the way he is. He can never be the understanding and emotionally secure father, he is just incapable, he doesn't know how to reconcile his insecurity with his conscience. So everytime he comes back from work, he lies down in bed, plunging deeper into that hole of looping confusion, the horrible feeling of less-worthiness. He tried hard to win the affection of his son.

Some men like him ended up as beggars, some had affairs with another woman. Some resort to extremist beliefs, some refused to love.

It's an example of the kind of pain, how it hurts from underneath our consciousness. We are ashame of it, we refuse to acknowledge what the emptiness within us represents.

The quote presents a challenge for each of us, not just for the man. It invites us to turn our pain into our strength.

One Woman's War

2009-02-16T00:43:00.004+08:00

About a woman's transformation into an Al-Qaeda living legend.

Finding Jesus, the Faith that we need

2009-02-04T23:32:00.006+08:00

You know the thing they say about religion being like opium to people? How it shuts one's mind, wrapping you in scriptures, in some part you might see the light of the world shining at you, define the world through its letters, where it's dark, you don't see anything, you're completely cut off from the world, in the safety of the bliss of ignorance.

Did the man named Jesus whom most also called the Christ, actually profess the message of love and compassion? Or rather we should ask, how much emphasis did he put on the message of tolerance and unconditional love than his message of repentance, to which the alternative is damnation? Or was the message of redemption did actually come from him? Bearing in mind that the gospels are most probably written a few decades after his death, how sure are we what he actually meant when he said the lowly will be lifted, when he said the last will become first, the weak will be strong. Is he referring to us, those sidelined, those marginalised in societies, who needs more attention, or his prediction of his own death and the subsequent resurrection? It's an existential question, but one thing is certain is that we have come to interpret it his message that way.

After he died, it never occured to us immediately the nature of his death and its purpose, it was mind-boggling that someone as good as him could end up dying that way. In the early years that followed, there wasn't a complete agreement or a general consensus in that respect. One group thought it was an act of sacrifice to appease the vengeful angry God. The other believed it was an act to substitute in our place and take up our punishments, so that we don't have to suffer the penalties of our sins. We know now sins or wrongs are culturally relative and there is only a few number of sins that we can deem as universal and absolute, that as serious as murder, rape or corruption. So what kinds of sins that needs the solution of a once-for-all act considering the fact that the list of 'sins' evolve over time? Aren't these wrongs or sins are better dealt with by continuous reconciliation and forgiveness, with each individual human beings doing their part in one huge ongoing grand campaign than a guy in history to wipe away sins from the face of earth in one heroic act? Do we need God more in our salvation or our continuous faith in generations to come that there'll be a better world for us and it's our hard work in building that groundwork that matters more than just faith in the continuity of traditional time-warped rituals based on the death of one man or God to save us? Recently there is a group who propose the "Christ Victor" theory, that his act of death was an act of victory to conquer our anxieties, our fears and our limitations of humanity, meaning to say his death is like a flag for others to rally behind the motto "those who do not fear to lose his life, will not lose it". The kind of spirituality where nothing stands in the way, where you won't kill another, but let be killed, so that you won't end up saving your own life and other interests but sacrifice the sanity and life of greater humanity.

The question is not which theories are true or whether there are all true and reconciliable; there's no way to answer or prove any one of those. But take a step back, we should ask this question, did Jesus come up with that or was it us, through generations of eager folks eager for a better life, a better world, by intellectual quest, based on experience, reflecting on that mysterious persona of spiritual man named Jesus.

Are we ready to drop doctrines and dogmas, and ask the real question; what does he stands for and why does he means so much to us? Not who he is. For there's a reason why Christianity is the largest religion in the world. Maybe it's the questions and debate that revolve around him, instead of him per se.

We have been asking those questions and have been pursuing the ideals that we thought he represent; simply because we pursue these ideals in everywhere else, in Buddha, in Hinduism, in Sikhism, in Islam, in the Declaration of Independence. We have been pursuing the ideals of universal happiness, but most important of all, we are more astonished by the message of acceptance of all than the selective damnation based on creed. The promise of a better world, and the hope that all the children of humanity that has spread far and wide will come back home and be family again.

Bubbly - Colbie Caillat

2009-01-10T01:10:00.001+08:00

In the last night of 2008...

2008-12-31T22:57:00.016+08:00

... I went down to a makeshift nasi lemak stall opposite my apartment, just across the road. They had very delicious fried chicken to go with the nasi lemak. As I was on my way, I was licking my lips already with the thought of having the breast meat, deeply fried in curry leaves and something else which I think maybe curry flavour. It's really something nice to look forward to after having achieved earlier this evening 20 laps of swimming which I promised to myself (no big deal actually, each lap is 15m only).

However no sooner had I reached the stall than the Malay hawker quickly apologized to me that the chickens have run out. I looked into the rattan basket, and there on the banana leaf there was nothing left. Clearly the chickens were gone, for the second time in a row whenever I come to this stall. The man was very apologetic, so he offered me to give me extra rice together with extra ikan masin and a whole boiled egg and priced it at just RM1.20. I was glad so I thought with that amount of money I saved for my dinner I can buy a stick of chicken frank with cheese inside from 7-eleven store nearby. (Oh crap I forgot to thank the man!)

As I pushed open the door, with the usual "ding dong" to announce my arrival, I saw a familiar face. She stared at me for quite some time before she said, "Hello." I couldn't remember where I can place her in my memory, could she be one of the activists I met before? If yes, then how should I address an activist, what's the correct word to call her? Hey activist friend? Wouldn't that be weird? While that still transpired in my head, she suddenly said that she works in the 'linik'.... Obviously my eyes couldn't help showing how bewildered I am at the word 'linik' and the confusion that ensued because she was kind enough to repeat the word several times for me. Well folks, because I still had something going on in my head, it usually took me some time before I realised that she was saying 'clinic'.

Oh well, then it followed with a usual "Oh ... (hehehe)" from me whenever I feel embarrassed for having taken so long to recognise a familiar face, especially when they seem to recognise me very well (I also developed a strategy where I don't have to greet by their names whom I feel very familiar whenever I see them to avoid the awkwardness of not remembering the names, only to struggle as soon as the encounter finish as to who they might be). But what soon amazed me and prompted me into writing this entry for my blog, was that as she left the store she said aloud 'Happy New Year!' to all of us in the store, with her hand open near her mouth, in a very jolly manner. It was a refreshing sight, for you see people in KL usually pretend like they don't know anybody at public places. It's almost like a big no no to start a conversation with stranger in a public settings like at bus stop, lining up at a fastfood restaurant or train station, which makes it practically harder for you if ever wish or fantasize about striking a conversation with that attractive (hot) girl you're interested in. So I was there, holding my stick of chicken frank awkwardly in the same hand that's carrying my nasi lemak and my wallet. I struggled to come up with a response, in the end I whispered "oh... (hehehe)".

But I'm very grateful for my last night for 2008, I'm grateful for the kindness and humility of the young Malay man who gave me a generous fat pack of nasi lemak at a very low price. I'm grateful that someone would be so at ease with strangers and to be generous enough to wish "Happy New Year" instead of the shy downward quick glance to the floor that KLites tend to do every time when they run into familiar faces.

I hope in this year 2009, I may measure up to their kindness and humility. The very human touch which I feel very important for me to learn and appreciate. Perhaps for a start, I shall try with smiling more often and be more gentle (the significance of which I am reminded of a few days ago). We all have a choice, to be bitter-or-cold-looking or to spread joy and love to all we meet in our lives.

Happy New Year! :)

Waltz with Bashir

2008-12-27T15:20:00.000+08:00

Ari Folman, a former Israeli soldier, had lost his memory about his involvement with the massacre that occurred in the Lebanon invasion in 1982.

He couldn't even remember the slightest of the horror that he might be responsible for. So he brought along his camera and set out on a journey to visit friends, former comrades and war journalists, those who will never forget.

He recorded those interviews and later hand-drawn all of them in four painstaking years. He had them later illustrated and turned into an animated documentary.

The result is "Waltz with Bashir". A masterpiece, it's a movie that's not be missed!

John 1:1-16

2008-12-24T23:19:00.008+08:00

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning.

Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it.

There came a man who was sent from God; his name was John. He came as a witness to testify concerning that light, so that through him all men might believe. He himself was not the light; he came only as a witness to the light. The true light that gives light to every man was coming into the world.

He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him. He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him. Yet to all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God - children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband's will, but born of God.

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.

John testifies concerning him. He cries out, saying, "This was he of whom I said, 'He who comes after me has surpassed me because he was before me.'' From the fullness of his grace we have all received one blessing after another. For the law was given through Moses, grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. No one has ever seen God, but God the One and Only, who is at the Father's side, has made him known

The first two paragraphs describes who Jesus really is. That before the baby boy was born in humble manger under the brightest star over two thousand years ago, he had already existed; since and at the very beginning, before time even start clicking. He was with God and was God, one and the same.

Men altogether had sinned greatly, and will continue to sin far greater in the future. And the wages of sin is death for sin cannot coexist with God, and whatever entity, whoever that still harbours sin, must die, perish and cease to exist eventually. It is only fair, it is only just because the very nature of sin is destructive, it is a nature and state obtained by choice, by free will, and that choice comes with a consequence which is death, not just in a physical sense, in every meaning, and not just destructive of itself but also everything around it. Like a blackhole, in its madness it absorbs everything, setting off an unstoppable chain of events that affect those close and far away, as well as the innocent ones.

God had to put a stop to this. He created Men for a meaningful existence, for a meaningful relationship with Him, to enjoy His creation with Him, not the destruction of his own creation. But God faces a dilemma, they are creatures of sin, and so they must be eliminated. But He loved them so much, and He knows there's nothing that the children of Men can do to save themselves from the consequences of the sins of their own, their forefathers and their future descendants, no matter how innocent and noble they may be. Actions and morality alone cannot save them.

And so it has been decided, that God himself must carry out the rescue mission, for only He can, not the Angels nor any worthy creatures below that may exist. And so the Son, the Word, came down and became man, stripped of all his divine prerogative, he lived, eat, slept, enjoyed and suffered among us, experience the first-hand taste of what it's like to be human in all its joy and desperation.

But he lived mainly to die, for all of us, past, present and future. Reason is by dying on the cross he took upon himself all the consequences of our sins. He suffered no ordinary death, by all means it was a death that no men can ever comprehend. This was the Son of God, who was with God and was God since the very beginning. Powerful, and death used to mean nothing to him, the possibility of ceasing to exist, the possibility of death was impossible for him for he is almighty.

But at that very last moment, he suffered till the very last thread of his own existence, completely naked, completely human, without his divine prerogative. Up there on a hill, in one gloomy afternoon, God was finally pinned down and displayed in the most humiliating exhibition before his enemies, Evil. The Son of God was also completely cut off from his Father, physically and spiritually, how can anyone be able to imagine the unbearable sorrow of that separation. At the night at Gethsemane, he had already cried to his Father, begged him if he could save him.

But the Father remained silent, even when the Son cried "Eloi eloi, lama sabachthani" (My God, my God, why have you abandonned me?), and who was cruelly nailed to that cross in that cold gloomy afternoon, blood all over, open wounds, in the most sad state. Then the Son asked for forgiveness for whoever did this to him, and he also asked the Father to receive his spirit, and then his eyes closed. Sadly though when he opened his eyes, he was not in heaven, what he could see was the fire of hell.

So that was His rescue mission, to become man, lived among us, died for us. But he did not just die, a single ordinary death would not be enough to ransom the death of the whole of humanity. So the Son suffered a complete cut-off, physically and spiritually, from the Father, become like mortal, completely thrown off from the face of heaven and earth and descended to the deepest pit of death. He did no wrong, but he had to suffer all this, all so that we don't need to pay for our sins anymore, we don't need to die an eternal death for our sins.

But his death was not the end of the story. In recorded history, he came back to life. He appeared to his disciples and returned to the Father, in body and in spirit. And he also promised that one day when the time comes, he'll come down again, to, once and for all, renew the world, bring the Children of God back into life and restore them a life on earth of eternal happiness, where all evil and suffering will be brought to a final end, everything will come to past. And perhaps at that time too, we'll all know that all the suffering in our previous lives worth it, and then we'll be glad to be reunited with our families and friends in love and eternal happiness and peace, forever and ever.

This vision is what most profound about this faith. I'm not sure if I had expressed myself well and accurately of that vision. But then again this is a very profound vision, most intriguing element of the Christian faith such that my language capabilities cannot measure up to.

My only desire in writing this entry is so that I am able to share this vision which I have only recently begun to appreciate with my readers.

Merry Christmas everybody!

(Inspired by Timothy Keller's book 'The Reason for God', a must read book in this day and age)

Christmas

2008-12-24T18:42:00.004+08:00

C.S. Lewis said this,

"Love anything and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries, avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket - safe, dark, motionless, airless - it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation."

Merry Christmas, may everyone have the courage to love and be loved again. More importantly may we be more willing and open to love Him especially in troubled times to come, and by that I mean the recession. Cheers everybody!

"Your Honor stands between the future and the past"

2008-11-23T08:29:00.002+08:00

"I am pleading for a time when hatred and cruelty will not control the hearts of men. When we can learn by reason and judgment and understanding and faith that all life is worth saving, and that mercy is the highest attribute of man...."

I found this quote in this website. It comes from Clarence Darrow, an attorney representing the defendants in the 1924 Leopold and Loeb case, who succeeded in the impossible; sparing his clients from death penalty despite them being convicted for murder.

The Bound Man

2008-11-17T19:05:00.009+08:00

Once, a very good friend of mine put this question to me; what freedom does a man, bound, beaten and tortured, still have?

I can't really remember now, but my answer was that he has a choice to give in to that suffering or to persevere. To be honest, I think the first image that came into my mind was James Bond (played by Daniel Craig) in Casino Royale when he was tied to a chair, completely naked. There was nothing on him save his raw ego. The base that supports his buttock was torn off, making that part of his body exposed and vulnerable.

There's nothing he could do, there's nothing I can do if I were in the same position. James Bond showed defiance, he smirked, he laughed when the villain whipped it. For a man who believed he could do anything, survive anything, he had to face that pain, the scarring of that part of his anatomy. I suppose if I were in his position, I would say to hell with you and your whip, I don't give a damn of that scar, funny that the world knows you're the one who did it, but as long as I'm alive, you'll have to reckon with my madness.

But to that question, I have a second answer, that man, and James Bond, have another choice, to forgive or not to forgive. Jesus chose to persevere, but he also chose to forgive. Indeed one of His last words, was to pray for our forgiveness, including those who whipped, pierced, tore and torture His body, those who abandoned Him, those who mocked Him and those who betrayed Him. For a man who could do everything, who could raise the dead, who was a widely-respected spiritual teacher, who knew or believed, depending on your point of view, that He is the Son of God, He had to suffer such humiliation to be hung next to criminals. Yet He chose to move higher up another level, that is to forgive.

When I came to that answer, I was preparing myself for my turn to speak in a moot competition that day, I was struck by that answer, and the solution it provides instantly to almost all my questions and dilemmas, which range from questions like how we can bring about greater happiness into this world, can justice play that role, to how can I attain confidence and certainty about myself, the calmness and focus I need.

Forgiveness is a very familiar concept for me, and so for everyone else, but I could not believe that I have overlooked, such a simple answer, and yet so powerful. Justice cannot and will not bring about the holistic happiness that the world needs when it choose to be blind to the conditions that force people to commit crime like poverty, lost of loved ones, the lack of love, the emptiness of soul and the society that chooses not to understand nor help, and more often than not discriminates against them, and when justice tries to achieve its version of balance by retribution. It deplores a murder by one man when its own hand has far more blood than that of a murderer's.

Before I took my place at the rostrum, I also realized the power of forgiving myself, forgiving my mistakes, forgiving those who wronged against me. When I did all that, in a few minutes before I begin my speech, I attained the clarity of thought and the confidence of myself that I need to push through the challenges of life and its vicissitudes. That, I didn't know then, was the start of my journey back to Christ.

And so I propose to the whole world here, that let us restructure our society, slowly and gradually, to one which lives not on justice or debt, but on the full embrace of every human being, through forgiveness. Amen.

Prayer

2008-10-26T23:33:00.005+08:00

Listening to One Republic's "Say (all I need)"

Dear God,

I kneel before you, in pain of heart and eyes. For these eyes sees more despair than hope, and this heart is filled with overwhelming sorrow and salty tears.

God,

Last Saturday, while returning from lunch at KFC, I came across an Indian man lying on a bare dirty pavement, with only his blue worn-out bag as his pillow. He was wearing blue shirts with brown and white stains on them, I wonder oh Lord when was the last time he had someone to wash the shirt for him? His slightly short black pants revealed his old dark ankles, marked with sands and dirt for having walked in the city too long, and not having washed his feet. Where are his children? Isn't that man supposed to be with his wife now at home? What happened? Is he going to spend the rest of his life like that, and die that way?

God, deliver us! I pray.

Amen.

Grace

2008-10-16T07:23:00.000+08:00

When Adam and Eve ate the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, what did they acquire besides the state of a sinner or sinfulness? Was it just disobedience that cause the fall of Men? Would they also have acquired the knowledge of what is Good and Evil?

The Garden of Eden was where Mankind is said to originate. The moment we were first created, we are endowed with Free Will. Despite the fact that humans are created in His likeness, would we have been thought by Him as incapable of deciding what is Good and Evil because of our own nature? Was it foreseen that to be completely like God, to have a higher conscience than mere obedience and able to decide Good from Evil, would be beyond our nature?

I wonder if humanity is like Pinnochio. Adam was created just like any angels, meant to be God's servant, loyal and obedient. The benevolent Father will take care of everything, Adam would have nothing to worry. He's in the Garden of Eden, with abundant food and wealth. He has no need to struggle or suffer but to just live out God's labour. Like a child who is kept safe at home, playing with his toys, enjoying his mom's tasty apple pie. The joy that God wants in return is to see His child when he comes back from work. Nothing more, nothing less.

Perhaps it's God's will, that Humanity is to be cast away from the comforts of His grace. That the decendants of Adam shall venture and be His presence in another world. The world which He created but lack His Grace, His perfect Harmony.

So perhaps it is willed, I say perhaps for I cannot be sure. That Adam's children are to be sent far away from His Grace, so that he may be more complete, enlightened and mature. Just like how one African nomadic tribe would let their sons join the adult men to survive in the desert's wilderness once the former has come of age.

Now with the Knowledge of Good and Evil, with our eyes wide open, we are no longer the child who just sits and play at the Father's house. Here we are, alone. With that knowledge, with our Free Will, we strive to achieve what is Good. We reach out to people and try to help them, because we believe it is the Good thing to do. We do it out of love. We want them to have a better life, a happier and more meaningful lives like us, who happen to be fortunate. We want to lift them up from the desperation and despair that cause them to lie, to deceive, to commit wrong. We know that this sort of behaviour would slide them into further state of sinfulness, would distance them from the rest of society, plunge them further into darkness. We know we just can't stand by and see them falling further below. We know we just can't. God just can't stand to see us fall further down, so He sent His Son.

But perhaps we need reminding, that we were created for the Garden of Eden, not for Earth. We may not have the ability and power to deliver them from this fall for our ability cannot completely make up for our Knowledge of Good and Evil, a knowledge and the conscience that comes with it, which is said to be possessed by God alone, and no one else (before Adam ate the fruit), and only God who has the means and way to utilize this knowledge. Pinnochio was created as a toy, but as soon as he was granted life like other human beings, he wishes to be like human, but he's made of wood and is fragile, he can never completely measure up to human capability.

He called us to Prayer, and He called us to look up to His Son there on the Cross. I guess, that He says that we should search for His Grace. It is said that His Grace not just sanctifies or beautifies the soul, it equip us with the intuition and will to do what is right, to do what is rightfully our place to do. We know that there are a lot of things that we want to help, we want to influence one way or another, but it is just simply not our place to do so. We do not have that ability, though we have the conscience. This is the area where we ought not to deal with alone. And this is where our conscience surpass that of our ability and limitation as a mere creature. This is where He called to us to seek for His Grace.

And I also believe, it is only by His Grace, that His Glory will manifest in us. Amen.

Immanuel

2008-10-01T16:48:00.013+08:00

Last Saturday, I thought of joining the Anti-ISA vigil march from Central Market to Dataran Merdeka. On my way to Central Market, which is supposed to be the starting point, I came across a group of people distributing free food and drinks to the homeless. (Didn't join the march anyway, because I thought the police were going to catch everyone, which they didn't :P)

So there I was thinking, what can be an ideal society? And how can we achieve it? Society exists for the benefit of human beings, for the benefit of all and each of us. It's because we can't neither enjoy the fullness of life nor aspire to greater heights if every man is for himself. On this basis, a society is a collaboration of humans much like a pack of wolves or flock of birds. Besides, it also must ensure that every man gets to enjoy the best out of life and has the opportunity to excel to greater heights. For this, every society in the world aims to be fairer and more prosperous to better achieve that aim.

One way to achieve that aim is modernity, the era where we are bold to abandon unreasonable and oppressive old traditions and practices, and form new ones, new way of thinking, new structures and systems of interaction and businesses that defines a modern society today, who we are and how we do things, built on the ideas of secularism, democracy and capitalism. By stripping away superstitions and rituals, we can focus more of our resources, energy and mind on what makes sense, what would really turn this world a better, fairer and more prosperous place. We want more money, innovations, better economy, a bigger pie for everyone to share, so inevitably we focus on what is tangible or yield actual returns, we put our whole sight on the physical achievements, we become more materialistic.

We are in the age that embraces a structure of society that is unimaginable to our ancestors. Remember the customs and social hierarchy that defines their lives. Each and every one of them knows their place, and that place or niche defines their whole life. Hardly any social mobility, but still it tells us who he or she is, and also who we ourselves individually are. So there's a strong sense of self-identity.

Henri Comte de Saint-Simon said this in the 18th Century:

"The Golden Age of the human race is not behind us but before us, it lies in the perfection of the social order. Our ancestors never saw it; our children will one day arrive there, it is for us to clear the way"

So here we are. We are proud to freely express ourselves, through words, fashion, graffiti, songs and behaviour. Just jump into one of the subways, you'll see people of different colours, styles and behaviour, some you may call cool, some you may call weird or disgusting. But that's modernity, no longer we are donning pigtails that China's father of democracy Sun Yat-Sen might get embarrassed about. Every man and woman in HSBC can equally expect for a top job as long as they have the skills and is willing to work hard. So here we are, living out the values of freedom, democracy, meritocracy and diversity, that the Enlightenment thinkers think are what should measure the success of any society, not the blood in your vein nor religious purity.

But on the other hand, we are also becoming increasingly insulated as an individual. The spirit of community, or as our locals and Moral teacher would have it, gotong-royong, is becoming lacking and we are becoming man or woman for ourselves. Go into a modern city like KL, if you have been spending most of your lives in villages or nomad tribes, and you'll see how lonely each of us is. Robert Bolton in his book "People Skills: How to assert yourself, listen to others and resolve conflicts" said that despite all the technological advances that are supposed to bring us closer together, needless to mention the Internet, the most serious disease of today, is not cancer or heart disease, but loneliness.

Unlike the past, dubbed the good old days, everything was certain, they all knew their place and have strong personal identity which culture had branded on them. Everything was much simpler, and the community of a village is like one whole big family.

But no, not today, almost everything is measured by your skills and the money you have, or the people you associate with. So in order to fill up that void, you had to move and move up quickly. Your worldview becomes pragmatic, and at times over-pragmatic, where you are at the centre of the universe. You slowly become more and more isolated from the rest of society and trust only the one closest to you, your lover perhaps or your best friend. The world has become a battlefield, where it's "me against them" or "us against them".

Hey wait, the last time we check, there are about 6 billion people on earth, and we're just these tiny human creatures in that enormous mesh of humanity. Are we not born into this world with value equal to the baby born in the next room? But a materialistic life, a life of just money and all about survival as well as getting ahead, without sufficient meaning and purpose that is greater than our own needs, a life of "How is that fair for me?" or simply "Me, me, me!", would push us to become more self-centred and that is very tiring indeed, it's like spreading a little piece of butter to cover a large piece of bread.

I guess we need a focal point that lies above us, the point at which we can all see together, that can keep our eyes above ourselves. A goal or direction which all humanity can share and by which we can call ourselves brothers and sisters. We need God, whether He exists or not, or as to His precise nature, we can never know... now. But if you can feel His presence, His work with fate and destiny, His lending of His hand to you as you go about your daily tasks, is there any harm to trust Him? If by trusting that there is a being higher above us, greater than us, who calls for each of us to do and sacrifice out of love and compassion, and that makes you a truly happier person, would it hurt to sow a little faith that He exists? If you think you can trust Him, wouldn't it be nice to know that there's someone who would look after you and shoulder some of your burden and worries?

Christianity, Buddhism, Hinduism, Islam and Judaism are examples of many ways that humanity tries to tap into that huge potential that exist beyond our mortality and limitations. It brings about a strong cohesive society in the past, and accords meaning to every little thing they did or embraced, albeit oppressions and superstitions. But it's for a better post-modernity, that we all must renew and reconcile our diverse faiths and gather all people, whether atheists, agnostics or religious, in reaching for that destination; God. Renew the journey for all mankind, know that it's still worth believing that destination point still exist, then we all will do our parts, no matter how little or materially insignificant they may be. But the ship must sail now, and sail with its fullest confidence for now is not the time to say if our beliefs are true or self-deception. Only when we finally got there, then it shall be revealed to us, whether that God is indeed God, space-faring aliens or no god at all.

So now, all nations and faiths before God.

Dan-yel is revisiting his former faith Catholicism and believes that God is by his side. Immanuel. Salam Aidilfitri!

Read also:
Atheism

Carry you home

2008-09-26T00:15:00.001+08:00

Some lessons are just too hard for some people

2008-09-13T02:41:00.006+08:00

Dear friends,

Only desperate situation calls for desperate measures, true or not? If a dog can't bark, it'll bite.

With just three days away, they have no choice but to play by the old book.

Sure, it's very terrible that they get locked up incommunicado, into that dark cell room with no way to plead their defence, no way to call up their loved ones, no way knowing if this is just going to be a brief nightmare.

But guess what, there's no way the they can come back to us and say "hey, can you elect me again?". No no, that's practically the last nail in the coffin of their political career. They're not looking so good at all to the alternative that we have now, oh no, not at all.

So guys, let us remain calm and let the deadman die peacefully. For their benefit, go make your point loud and clear, AGAIN.

Come on BN, don't say we've never told you so.

Update:
Now that both Teresa Kok and the Sin Chew reporter are released, this blog now join the call of my fellow Malaysians that RPK and the Hindraf 5 be released.

Elevator Psychology

2008-09-07T03:11:00.002+08:00

Our evolution

2008-08-22T17:01:00.007+08:00

(Image adopted from http://www.mass.gov/envir/forest/)

I've been in excellent boredom this lately, oh there's absolutely nothing for me in Brunei here!

Reading Michael Crichton's Prey, a thought occurred to me, are we really at the finale of the evolution process?

Some would have it that humankind, with biotechnology, computer technology and soon-to-come nanotechnology, is at last in the driving seat of our evolutionary process. With the principles of justice, compassion and equal opportunity, human rights advocacy, every human individual, despite their traits, would have the opportunity to pass on their genes to next generation. Thanks to the environmentalists and the animal rights groups, perhaps the diversity of our natural world would also prevail, or at least some of it. With increasing agricultural activity, maybe only the genes that benefit mankind would dominate. Generally however, we can safely say that the evolution of life on earth since 4.5 billion years ago has finally concluded!

Maybe it's the evolution in the most natural sense that stops, but would it be foolish to think that human activity as distinct from nature? We'd like to think our decisions as exclusively ours, that it wouldn't make sense to say they come from Mother Nature. Meaning that the decisions to go to war for example were said to be made by humans alone, and only humans are responsible for these choices and their consequences. To hold an individual or societies responsible for his or their actions may be convenient to maintain peace and social cohesion of our pack.

Among the reasons we go to war are to protect our culture, our identity, our way of life, our democracy. We'd like to think our culture as superior to others and it would be blasphemous to suggest that we accept change imposed by another community. We fight to gain control over resources for the betterment of our nation at the expense of others. We form prejudices against the despots of others so we can mask the wrongs that we did to them earlier. We call it 'manifest destiny' when we steal the lands from its original owners (the founding of USA). Self-interest is what nature has programmed us to uphold. Values and moralities are always just aspirations, and used more to justify sacrifices of others then our own.

Prejudices has always been part of our nature because we need them. We need to generalize and form theories so that we can predict behaviors and reactions of people, animals and natural phenomenons. When we are drunk with self-pride, we tend to ignore behaviors contrary to our ideas about them but that invite us to better understand our enemies. The Qing Emperor who called himself divine and supreme, flatly rejected trade with the British who could offer priceless exchange of technology and science. Alexander the Great lied to his men about the barbarism of Persia when it's Persia that tolerated and encouraged the diverse faiths and cultures different from his own, not the Greek's Hellenism. We call another the blackest possible to rally the mob, though we knew better. We generalize because we refuse to acknowledge the behavioral and thinking patterns of people as unpredictable, so we can know ourselves as different from the Lazy Joe and Slutty Joy. We labeled people so we can deal with them accordingly to further our interests and avoid (or in extreme case, annihilation thereof) people who are detrimental. When such labeling or generalizations became horribly wrong, we call them prejudices and pride ourselves liberals as having none of the conservatives' old-fashioned thinking.

Sometimes, when we talk, we thought we disagree though we could have been agreeing on the same points all along. Just how we phrase it, or how the other thinks of us that stands in the conduit of communication between me and you.

All these shortcomings come from no other than our own biological limitations that nature has grant to us. We generalize too much because the brain was evolved to cope with only so much. We have conflicts because our communication abilities were just one, but not enough, a giant leap from the gruffing ancestral primates' achievements. Ego was designed to protect our own genes and refuse to recognize the value of the greater good of the bigger community. Our brains were outdated for this level of civilization that we replace actual reality with our own simplified version which differs and contradicts from the other people's versions, which later stir violence.

If one day, with our increasingly advanced technology, when we are able to manufacture self-replicating DNA, 'artificial' intelligence that could learn on its own and with the intelligence prowess that could cope with far more complex information without reckless generalisation and prejudice, with communication systems far more effective and accurate than our languages today with its cultural barriers, would we let ourselves be extinct and be replaced by our creations far superior and better tailored to ascend to higher civilization?

World Peace Day

2008-07-28T00:22:00.001+08:00

Come this 21st September

Atheism

2008-07-25T06:34:00.007+08:00

A child of the mob once asked an astronomer who the father was who engendered him in this world? The scholar pointed to the sky, and to an old man sitting, and said: “That one there is your body’s father, and that your soul’s.” To which the boy replied: “WHAT IS ABOVE US IS OF NO CONCERN TO US, and I’m ashamed to be the child of such an aged man!” O WHAT SUPREME impiety, not to want to recognize your father, and not to think God is your maker!
- Barthélémy Aneau

Temperance

2008-07-19T04:31:00.007+08:00

Just how often you actually decide on how you think and behave?

How much of the human behaviour can be attributed to rationality? Meaning to say, to what extent, are we really, as the envisaged homo sapiens ('wise man' in Latin), really act and think for reasons that we have thought through. Just how different are we from animals who seem mostly to act and react on instinct?

Imagine this scenario. You're standing before two shops, one McD 'restaurant' and another famous local nasi lemak shop. You're a local, and this is your town. You know the nasi lemak shop and have been its regular customer, and you know the food's good. You're running short on money and you haven't had McD for a really long time. You could easily decide for the local shop. But if you're not familiar with the shop and you're not local, assuming also that no one has ever verbally recommended it to you. You spent time thinking, standing there and thinking, but most probably to eventually decide for McD, even when you're on a tight budget. Why? Or say if you didn't spend time standing before the shops mulling over the decision, in fact you only thought of the choice when you reach there and make a quick decision which you think is very objective in nature, but still end up lining in the McD restaurant for your order. Would anyone can objectively say that this is a rational choice? You see, for many times, we do something because we feel like doing it, we never really weigh our choices, and it make us so susceptible to what I'd like to call here, our temperance.

When you talk, do you actually actively recall experiences, informations or ideas? I think, if you monitor your own thoughts the next time you talk to someone, , you'll find that most of the thinking process starts off with a spontaneous spark. That something just comes into the front of your mind from behind, without you making an effort to collect that piece of memory. The only actual mental effort you are aware of is the one that builds on that spark.

I'm beginning to think that the majority of our cognitive process actually occurs within the subconscious. Built and shaped by experience, this area of our mind will shoot ideas or suggestions into our conscious mind, (registered and felt as instinct), but for most of us who enjoy a social place as a 'bright student,' a 'lecturer', a 'respectable lawyer' or the 'wise guy', we tend to (not so truly) credit it later as part of our own intellectual innovation or creativity, as if we actually thought it out. The process is like a waiter who knows you well and serve you the dish without you having to decide on the menu. You might not have even decided on what you want.

So, if you agree with my observation, just how much are we in control and aware of our own thinking? If you care to now recall your past experience, when we were defending a certain position or opinions, was it an attempt to safeguard our ego or really an effort to discuss in good faith?

The past few weeks has offered me the opportunity to look into that aspect of the human behaviour, testing my hypothesis as I went along, with yours truly as one of the subjects of this observation. None of us, virtually, knows exactly why we behave in a certain way, for most of the time we tend to only rationalize our choice of behaviour or action a posteriori i.e. that we didn't decide and then act on that decision, but we act and then decide on the possible reason.

This is perhaps why there is a tendency that we as a society in labeling or categorizing people based on what we know of their background and their temperance that we have observed. For example, we look at a politician's background, education and his manner of speech, to choose who we would have the most confidence in, or the one who would make the decisions in the betterment of our interests. We think a human being is as predictable as these data could tell. This practice or habit of judging someone and predicting his or her next move is what essential for our survival as biological species with our own interests to preserve and advance. From our own experience, we know that gauging a person's temperance based on what we know is practically useful.

We know that when we decide on a particular action or choice, it's very much due to our experience and temperance, rather than on a set of reasoning. Perhaps it's also because we don't have much time to think about it and it would be counter-productive.

But then again, even the judges who are supposed to make the fullest use of their reasoning faculties cannot escape perceptions and labeling that makes them conservative, liberal or pro-Islam.

Johnny Lee and his Wii

2008-07-19T02:38:00.001+08:00

Johnny Lee demos his amazing Wii Remote hacks, bending the $40 game part so it powers a digital whiteboard, a multitouch display and a head-mounted 3-D viewer. A multi-ovation demo from TED2008. (Recorded March 2008 in Monterey, California. Duration: 05:40.)

Motion #1

2008-07-13T23:04:00.003+08:00

A volatile household impairs a child's ability to relate with another?

Social Psychology : Power of the Situation

2008-06-30T18:03:00.004+08:00

It's a 25-minute video on how social context and physical surrounding and circumstances influence our behaviour, for some of the time against our own better judgments. It explains how when in a group we tend to follow the majority's decision although it's wrong, or how Adolf Hitler could move a mass machine of troops in the 2nd World War to commit the most hideous crime, eg. the Holocaust. A question mark on to the extent of our free will.

It's not all bad of course, this aspect of human behaviour serves many good purposes, for example the strong solidarity of civil movements, the goodwill of the general mass of people, how people obey authority thus maintaining society cohesiveness, teamwork, battalions of army taking orders mostly at the risks of their own lives, it promotes cooperation, and establishes coherent social and political norms.

Your good life, my bad life

2008-06-26T11:20:00.011+08:00

Oh such life, for its being easy and free, is we all would want for ourselves once in a while, isn't it? That we can just hop onto a random stranger's car and join the rest of the fun that comes. That we are not restrained by our self-consciousness every time we talk to friends that we are not that used to. That we don't need to care of what's coming up, and just take things as it is. That we are not wary of whom to trust and those that we mustn't trust.

You'd say;

Are the complexities of my life, and the simplicity of yours, my own fault? That I fret upon even the most trivial matter, that I shut myself from the wholeness of my reality?

When I wanted somebody to talk to, you sounded like your life's just perfectly so fine, that I felt guilty to even have intruded your life with that call and hated myself for being foolish in the first place to fall into the arms of that stranger. I was desperate, and I know these three words would not justify the foolishness of my youth.

That in the middle of our conversation, you mentioned about my boyfriend's name, that you made it sounded like our relationship ought to be a smooth one, a happy one, an ideal match, that a mention of his name would send me into a blush, or freckles of my longing for my lover's company.

At a dinner with you, my best friend, both you and your girlfriend were poking at each other, and laughed tenderly before my person who had just been swept away from the embrace that flows out so much dream and hope, the expectation that we'll grow together, make this time our good old moments.

That I struggled to look fine, that it had not mattered so much to me, and you were being just plain cool and funny. When would it be a time that I could just move this weak me before a good friend like you, that I won't feel like my vulnerability doesn't worth your time.

I'd say;

None of these went indiscernible. That I saw the fleeting struggle in your look as you try to pass the moment when your lover's name was mentioned. That when you called for a company that afternoon, I felt sorry that I didn't take a minute off to call you back to check if you were fine. Your foolishness is a flip side of your idealism, that in this world we could all do with some faith in that things could be better. That sometimes the display of affection of your best friend at the dinner's table was just a mask or a counter-effect of what's been going on backstage. That I don't just look fine, that I'm always on a constant struggle to meet my ideals with reality.

Sometimes when it happens that we see our friends having a fine life, it won't take long for as to realize that their deep desperate struggle are not so different. That they may have been living on the surface of their automated-self-deception that below that fabric lies the dark matter of insecurity and desperation, threatening to float up anytime should you lose the rein.

That what becomes complex and difficult are the products of our humanity, constantly making up for what we lack and what we don't have. That perhaps a life will only be good, once we've finally come to terms and coexist with our humanity.

That even the most superhuman element, the prerequisite of a good life, such as faith, is not the absence of doubts nor is its opposite. Without doubt, there's no faith.

Note: The persona 'you' do not refer to anyone in specific. It's a hypothetical persona that represents some of whom I've crossed life with. Much of what happened to 'you' seems to me, happen to just everybody else, and ya which is precisely the point of this entry.

Before the turquoise mosque

2008-06-22T19:40:00.009+08:00

It was 12.40pm, Wednesday 18 June, and I was waiting below a flag post in front of the High Court Complex at Jalan Duta. Not so far ahead of me sat a magnificent mosque, in resemblance of Hagia Sophia, against the hazy sky of a sunless noon, with occasional spurts of wind, sweeping mightily across the wide expanse from the horizon on far-reaching right.

The mosque, majestic, telling of a tale of an Islamic conversion of a loner city, isolated by its walls and riches, on the western coast of the Mediterranean Sea. A rise of that fortified city from the ashes of Byzantine era, into an era of which I have yet to make sense.

However, as I sat there, peering at the mosque, taking in its curve, and the symmetry of its domes, I was recalled of Baghdad in the height of the Islamic civilization. A taunting of the colourful times of festivals, wisdom, spices, wealth and wine, whilst Europe was, forgone from Pax Romania, apparently forever lost deep in the shrouds of superstition and irrational misery.

That was a day where Islam brought enlightening relief to Arabia, a rescue from its Jahiliyah shackles. When Islam means bliss and freedom both in the material world and the unknown afterworld, when Islam was close to its ideals albeit the preoccupation with dynasties and family lines that was still prevalent following the fall of the Rightly-Guided Caliphs. With treasures of philosophies and libraries of poems, as well as the richness of trade, everybody in Baghdad had what they needed, and as an European Crusade war prisoner would describe it as a city without poor and beggars.

More than a millennium has passed and I was standing just outside the chamber of Mahkamah Dagang no. 7 with my master Mr Jimmy Liew. Yang Arif Dato' T.S. Nathan, senior High Court Judge of Malaya, was a very pleasant gentleman, eloquent in his speech and delicate in his art of courtesy and empathy. I would imagine him as the kind of the highly-learned men that make up the revered and envied Palace of Medieval Baghdad. I could extrapolate that he's God-fearing man of the Hindu faith, knowing full well matters that man are capable of judging and the rest which are best left to God alone. The very purpose of a secular civil courts system and the idea of the separation of Church and State.

Sitting next to His Lordship was his secretary, a traditional Hindu woman,with the thick red bindi, in a modern office outfit befitting of an English lady who you could expect as an English librarian, thick-rimmed old-fashioned glass. Funnily, she somehow reminded me of Professor Umbridge whenever she laughed, but the difference is that she's very likable.

Heeding my master, the moment I stepped into the packed chamber, by convention, I was not allowed to talk... at all. Several times that had been his warning lest I forgot. For the next few minutes, I would find myself consciously shut my lips tight, into a form of a smile, before the judge's enormous figure, mitigated only by his courteous nature. As my master set out his submissions, in fluency and brevity perfected by experience, caution and his dedication to the job. Anyone would admire the urgency at which he grabbed the doorknob, or the way he lifted his fingers swiftly as he makes the food order at the Court's cafeteria, converting every second into a productive output, making for a winning habit for a successful career.

For my learning benefit, the judge remarked to me about the chamber matter he just had with a senior lawyer. Apparently the senior lawyer stated as-a-matter-of-factly that he could just faked his client's signature. Whether that is a hushed reality or not for a practitioner, but it's sure clear that it does not go well with both the judges and the other lawyers.

A moment later, after a breakfast of iced coffee and roti pisang, I would join the same courtroom for a trial, anticipating the chance of seeing how witnesses are cross-examined where a jury-less excitement would lie. But that was not to come, as the matter had to be adjourned to make way for compiling the plaintiff's witness statement. The trial proceeding would not resume until September.

Having returned to the chambering pen, I sipped a nice cup of hot Milo prepared by our Auntie Coffee, who would sometimes wield more power than a chambering student.

Iqbal and Afiq shared their frustration with me on the lack of equitable distribution of wealth among Malaysians, regardless of race. They are remarkable Malays, Iqbal, UIA graduate, an opposition supporter, or rather who supports a better check and balance in our democracy, and Afiq, from UiTM, who is dubbed an 'UMNO strongman'. Both, despite their differences in political support, share the same degree of fair-mindedness, free of racial stereotyping. Back in the courtroom earlier, one Mr Zul, as if to attempt to please me, make a general statement as to how Malays are generally less generous in parting with their moneys than Chinese taukes who would insist his Malay chauffeur to keep the change after buying their pack of cigarettes. I remembered how a Penangite Chinese friend of mine, who insist she hates Malays. I would not take that seriously though, but when I got on Penang trip with her recently she briefly remarked how amazing Penang city is because there were no Malays!

To be honest, I spent the next few hours trying to ignore my frustration that would usually follow whenever my friends mention something that smacks of racism. But that was so blatant! What I appreciate of my attachment experience at this particular law firm is that I see no racial barriers, that the working culture is less guided by racial stereotypes. In fact, Iqbal is easily one of the most hardworking chamberee. And one Malay female UiTM graduate in baju kurung and tudung, enjoyed as much as the next Chinese woman in poking fun and being naughtily manja with the guys, well at least in my own point of view.

But that's besides the point. Both Iqbal and Afiq thinks the KOMTAR demonstration is a nonsense, both believe that the NEP is smeared by the misdirected implementation, both believe that the right direction for Malaysia is equality for all, that we guide this country on this basis than to engage in meaningless squabble for the share of the pie.

Nevertheless, when I looked at the race that makes up both sides of the courtroom, a Malay company against another Malay company, I appreciate what NEP has brought about, something that was unimaginable right after Independence.

But the politicking between Pakatan Rakyat and the BN government takes centre stage, and how Anwar Ibrahim seek to topple the BN government without respect to our democratic institutions. Should his attempt be successful, it would set a bad precedent for this country, and anti-hopping law would be too damaging a solution. Both Iqbal and Afiq do not have a favourable view of Anwar, I wonder how Anwar's political legitimacy goes with the rest of the Malays.

The whole political arena are zoomed in on stories of possible power grabs, but not on the prevailing issues more close to the Rakyat, our public debates are not on how to best deal with the increase in fuel price, how to improve the public transport system, how to curb bureaucracy, corruption, on the allegations and cause of the immigration problems, the widening of the rich and poor gap, on how to best steer the nation's economy, on what measures best constitute the most equitable distribution of resources and how best to deal with our educational systems and improve our international competitiveness. Instead, what you see as major highlights on the papers and blogs are about the political chess-game that is wearing the ordinary people out.

Perhaps the legendary enlightened oligarchy of medieval Baghdad would serve us better but such structure of government won't last in the face of human inherent frailties, even if it does happen to exist. It is still everybody's guess whether the democratic prospect in the wake of March 8 would turn out as another fallacy, further reinforcing the skepticism of most average Malaysian voters, as reflected in the cynicism that usually accompany the term "Malaysia Boleh".

During the conversation, Afiq described most of what I said, that politicians should cooperate rather than attacking each other and to do that, they must see the light of all things and the far-reaching common goal of our present realities, as being idealistic. Are these expectations too much to hope for? Let's wait and see. =)

Picture of Masjid Kuala Lumpur from Nazley's photopage.

This morning at the St John Cathedral

2008-06-15T21:51:00.006+08:00

"They want a sense of purpose, a narrative arc to their lives, something that will relieve a chronic loneliness or lift them above the exhausting, relentless toll of daily life. They need assurance that somebody out there cares about them, is listening to them - that they are not just destined to travel down a long highway toward nothingness"

- Barack Obama in "The Audacity of Hope"

Adapted from Wikimedia commons.

This passage prompted me to visit St John Cathedral today, months after I had left Christianity and Catholicism altogether.

The congregation was still aplenty, though slightly less than the last time; considering the fact that I could still get a seat in the middle pew. The priest, elderly, Indian in his late 70s or 80s, one whose eyes has seen the violent and shabby days of pre-independence, those days when hard work and discipline was everything, making both ends meet was the sole mission in life, hardly any space for an awakening of liberal political and religious thought.

So as I observed his feeble walk down the aisle towards the altar, I thought to myself that there could not have been more apt a time; that I might listen to a wisdom from of old for guidance of this new future.

It was a hot morning, sweat began to form drops on the edge of my fore hairline. Steel factory-fans were buzzing thoughout those old white arched halls. Looking around I could see some cooling themselves with hand-held fans; both the Mat Sallehs and the Africans alike.

A woman in front of me flapped hers on her newborn baby, in the arms of her husband, couldn't recall her nationality. But as I wrote this draft while most of the faithful are receiving their communion, she and her husband might had left already.

Apart from the Catholic Church's long tradition and the historical architecture of the Cathedral, what appealed me to a great deal was the congregation itself. You could see not just a cross-section of the Malaysian society, (including a few Malays back in my hometown, an acceptable scenario rather than a scandal of the most preposterous kind), you'll see other nationalities as well, of almost equal proportion. It's the kind of cultural atmosphere that I enjoyed being part of, the kind that I grew up in as a teenager, when going to church was still a routine.

You would not see just the Chinese like you would if you were in Chinese Methodist Church, nor would you be surrounded by fellow Malay villagers who think alike, like you would in a rural mosque or surau. As I was sitting there, on my left is a Filipino, on my right, well, another Filipino; she's a housemaid to an apparently Chinese couple and their newborn baby. But something about they dressed stood apart from a typical Malaysian Chinese, the woman was wearing a long-sleeve red shirt with small dotted patterns all over, her husband was wearing a chequered shirt with a distinctive gentleman demeanour; he courteously asked that I move ahead of him to receive the communion and would look eye-to-eye when I talked to him. As I later found out from the wife, she's a local Chinese but her husband came from Singapore.

But as I wrote the paragraph above, a big stocky African young man in his 20s went past in front of me, draped in a typical American hip-hop fashion, a few seconds later as I talked to the woman, an African woman in her 30s walked past from the opposite direction, similarly sturdy and big in size, proudly stomped by in her traditional dress that I saw before from watching the CNN on Zimbabwean protests.

Sitting there still even after the mass has long ended, writing furiously this draft, I was reminded of the awe that I had missed and my eagerness to reach out the diverse blend of culture and continents, that paint the hall of this magnificent church. Frustrated and disappointed I felt of the priest's sermon for its detachment from real social and life issues (it spoke of mysteries of Christ and the belief of the fellowship of Mary and the disciples), I was glad to be back again with the universal reality that I saw before me. (As much as I believe that we should not impose our values and belief system on others, I'm much thankful for the early missionaries' effort in bringing these diverse people together in one common faith). The observation and the presence among them carries me away from the pop culture that usually dominates my college life, and away from the comfort zone of my mostly-Chinese peers, of middle class and English-speaking. From hot chicks to foreign maids in their cheap heavy make-up, and from decently dressed geeks to boys that a school principal would lay his eyes on, all followed the religious ritual in piety and respectful silence.

Later my friend Janice joined me, and over claypot lau shu fan and old-fashioned bottled-coke, we shared our common observation of the racial reality of Malaysia today, and its prejudices, evident even among our own ring of friends. We talked about the significance of the Obama phenomenon, and how it would be similarly possible for Malaysia. We both appreciated the fact that having lived for a considerable time in Brunei and experienced cultural differences between different geological places, though relatively closed by regional standards, had helped shaped our worldview. We cited Mr Wai Nyan, our lecturer as an example, how his early life in USA, his travels in UK and Nepal had helped him to escape the communal inward thinking that identifies most of our societies today. As a product of globalisation, we had the opportunity to be different and better than the previous generation, and Barack Obama is one such example. My Dad gave me the name Zhen Hua, which means "Majukan Cina" or something along that line. He entered into adulthood in the 70s and 80s when the Chinese are reclaiming their dignity in the post-colonial age. I guess the name would forever find its irony in me.

As I cruised back to my condo in the LRT, I was standing in front of a Malay guy with his girlfriend in tudung. He fashioned himself like a rock fan, with leather bracelet, jeans and t-shirt as well as unshaven beard. So when he started singing I thought it was just another Malay rock song until I heard the word "Allah", how wrong I was.

Guess people are just as unexpectable as they are diverse. Would there be any reason for us to think in racial terms and proclaim sweeping-racial stereotype as absolute truth? I come to slowly realise that even the word "Malay" find most of its use only in this country's national political language and in conversations in colleges, and NGOs. Wonder how often the common Malays actually identify themselves as "Malays" in their own daily chat, I heard some suggested that in Johor they are more likely to think themselves as Bugis, the Acheh fellas as Achehnese rather than Malays, and the Jawa folks as orang Jawa I think. Anyway, that's a story for another day.

As for my Dad, I wish him Happy Father's Day!

As his child, he came across as hard disciplinarian, with bad temper, unreasonable and unfair. But that's precisely what you'd get from a man who've been in uncompromising times, who did not have an opportunity to further his studies as a sacrifice for his brother to work and study abroad. As a result, he's the kind of man who's ever wary of the dangers of falling in life, the state where you just give up at everything and decided to risk your values for both purely selfish-gains or for an intricately noble objectives. From him I learnt and continue to learn a great deal about not giving away your values and stand in exchange for a fast gain, and always strife to aim for the perfection of these values no matter what, that you do not make way for others' to undermine your dignity. That you be tough and hold strong and stand firm between whom you hold precious and the one that threatens it. Being a teenager I admit I had several occasions of bitter quarrel with him, but I learnt that despite our differences, we both see eye-to-eye on the sacredness of integrity and dignity, which I inherit from none other than him, my father, who is also my role model of manhood.

Unusual Thunderstorm in Miri

2008-05-14T20:38:00.009+08:00

(Would be glad if someone could help to explain this satellite image dating today that I got from CNN)

My mom just called me a few hours ago to tell me about an unusual weather in my hometown Miri. According to her, it happened about 8pm last night and lasted for a few hours.

It was raining heavily, and the wind was unusually strong, so massive that it led to many residents including this blogger to describe it as a 'typhoon'. Apparently it also stretches to neighbouring Brunei. From what I gathered, trees were uprooted in the roads of my residential area in Permyjaya. Roofs were blown off too.

And the blogger here had this to say, it led to many streets within the resort city covered with fallen trees! Here's an excerpt from her blog;

Everything was going well till when suddenly the door behind me burst opened and a standing lamp almost fall on me! It was all because of the unpredictable typhoon which happened last night...

...On our way home, we passed by loads and loads of tumbled trees and the road was a mess!! There are traffic jams everywhere because of the trees and part of it was, everybody's trying to go home because of the weather. It took us an hour to reach home from cocos' to senadin and to pujut! I was actually quite nervous and afraid to drive home ALONE.

Al-Gore's documentary "An Inconvenient Truth" had me really more worried about our climate. And with what's happened lately, unprecedented hurricane in New Orleans and recently the Nargis cyclone that killed more than 70,000 in Myanmar, and close at home with the unusual intensity of our thunderstorms and the ever rising oven-heat, isn't it time for us in this country to seriously get to the table and discuss what to do in case of a huge disaster? Spare us from the politicking, the least that the ailing BN Government should do is to pressure the Myanmar Government to open up its borders. Or else do not be surprised of a major humanitarian crisis right next door! It's going to affect us as well, do not take security and peace for granted.

But that's not it, with the unusual thunderstorm in Miri, does anyone ever wonder why it never get the headlines? It's enough that a blackout that lasted for days in Sabah only got a small column in the mainstream papers, maybe it's time that the Sarawakian MPs follow Anifah Aman's steps eh?

The climate becoming increasingly unpredictable , or in my eyes at least, I wonder if meteorologists had seen the Nargis coming. But then again, would their current methodology be even reliable to predict disasters and evaluate accurately weather conditions despite the increasingly extreme climate elements like the temperature, the sea currents, the air pressure, etc. Like physics, some laws may not be useful in extreme conditions.

But that's not the point now, it's imperative that the Government take precautionary steps or at least someone in Parliament initiate an emergency motion on preparation for possible disasters. More than ever, we, though of different political convictions, must stand united and work together for a disaster that doesn't seem impossible anymore. More needs to be done, we need to rev up our conservation efforts and our eco-friendly policies, as well as join the rest of the world and advocate for anti-global warming campaign aggressively and pro-actively, as seen in the days when we were harsh advocates of third world countries.

Global Warming is more real than we'd like to imagine.

Exam around the corner

2008-04-19T00:25:00.003+08:00

Hi,

With exam around the corner, I would need to stop updating my blog for awhile. May resume the hobby on mid-June.

In just one month away from now, I'll need to be more focused as the past month didn't look good, sad lack of progress.

So do wish me all the best.

My apologies to my frequent readers, who, though are few but had been the reservoir of my thoughts and inspirations.

Yours truly,
Dan-yel

The Coming Collapse on the Middle Class

2008-04-11T14:03:00.004+08:00

American middle class in a (I quote) 'constant debt treadmill'?

Take some time to watch and listen to this lecture by Elizabeth Warren, Harvard Commercial Law Professor. It should take about an hour.

Found the video here.

I'm concerned of how it will affect the American democracy, a return to feudal society? Does it also mean that political dominance may one day fall into the hands of the few corporate giants? Aunt Jamy had a lot to debate about the current economic state in the US, can't really follow her, but this lecture make a lot of sense to me. Her lecture interestingly points out how healthcare and mortgage are burdening the middle class, and towards the end she said about how the American society would slowly evolve into a two-class society and where the poor may no longer be able to escape poverty itself, considering that the next level is engaged in endless battle with debts, bankruptcy and costs.

Because the thing about the American democracy is that the group that has the upper hand in its political bargain is its enormous middle class, effectively taking away political monopoly from the rich few, the secret recipe to its democracy success. The same way how industrialization has democratized Europe, and possibly in many countries to come. But looking at the trend that America is experiencing, I wonder how effectively can this once strong enormous group hold on to that political dominance.

Could the middle class there one day find itself in a deadlocked mercy of the capitalists, thus no longer can they stand up for the poor and for equity?

Antara Mahathir dan Abdullah

2008-04-07T02:22:00.003+08:00

A while ago in msn;

Dan-yel دانيال بونغ says (2:02 AM):

i tengok political porn

abdullah sama mahathir

AudreyW says (2:02 AM):

habis crita abt porn

HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHHA

OKE!

AudreyW says (2:03 AM):

nice!

lol

Dan-yel دانيال بونغ says (2:03 AM):

dua dua

asyik tikam

bukan aje tikam lidah

mahathir terlalu ghairah

tikam sini

AudreyW says (2:03 AM):

then

Dan-yel دانيال بونغ says (2:03 AM):

tikam sana

AudreyW says (2:03 AM):

lol

Dan-yel دانيال بونغ says (2:03 AM):

then abdullah tak tahan

jadi TIKAM balik

AudreyW says (2:03 AM):

lol

Dan-yel دانيال بونغ says (2:03 AM):

khairy mahu join sama

Dan-yel دانيال بونغ says (2:04 AM):

tapi abdullah kata

"jangan bagi dia masuk"

AudreyW says (2:04 AM):

hahaha

Dan-yel دانيال بونغ says (2:04 AM):

hanya atr kami dua aje, katanya

AudreyW says (2:04 AM):

and

LOL

Dan-yel دانيال بونغ says (2:04 AM):

tak lame kemudian

dekat gua musang sana

Ku Li namanya

bangkit

Dan-yel دانيال بونغ says (2:05 AM):

katanya

jgn baik dgn Melayu aje

AudreyW says (2:05 AM):

hmmm

Dan-yel دانيال بونغ says (2:06 AM):

malah 'baik' lah dengan SEMUA org-org Malaysia

byk lagi variety

byk lg 'keseronokan'

AudreyW says (2:06 AM):

aduiiii

Dan-yel دانيال بونغ says (2:06 AM):

faham?

AudreyW says (2:06 AM):

fahammmm

End of story... Good night!

Umno - soon to be a multi-racial party?

2008-04-04T15:39:00.006+08:00

I read the piece about Ku Li's speech from Malaysian Insider here. In the Gua Musang EGM today, Tengku Razaleigh (aka Ku Li) proposed, among others, that Umno opens up its membership to non-Malays in an effort to reinvent the party as relevant to all Malaysians. Too little too late?

Dato' Onn Jaafar, the founder of Umno and one of my favourite historical figures, was the one who pioneered the idea of a multi-racial Umno to its members but only to meet with fervent rejection. It was a recognition to the importance for all races to come together for the betterment of the young nation Malaya, and a foresight of the mischief of racial politics in future. He then left the party, griefly disappointed perhaps, and went on to establish the multi-racial Independent Malayan Party (IMP) - correct me if I got the spelling wrong because I'm writing this entry all by-heart.

It was very unfortunate for me that IMP ended up in extinction after its ally MCA and its president Tang Cheng Lock opted to side with Umno instead for the General Election, a betrayal of some sort and a delay of the profound benefit of non-race-based politics until the rise of Parti Keadilan Rakyat in the recent election. PKR was like Anwar Ibrahim's attempt in resurrecting Dato' Onn dream to me.

Now with all the revolt that's been going on within the Malay ruling party, will Dato' Onn's last wish finally come true?

I'll personally be following the updates closely.

Update 8.22pm:
It seems that the Malaysian Insider has removed the link above and replaced it with this report. It might have been that they might have misreported Ku Li's speech so forget about what I said of Ku Li's intention to open up membership to non-Malays. However I'd still like to see Umno will re-entertain Dato' Onn's proposal for its transformation into a multi-racial party.

The Virginity Suit
To digress a bit, check this out from Borneo Post, I find it particularly amusing. Apparently a wife is suing her 'husband' for her loss of virginity. Now if she succeeds, I think girls these days would have more in their hands if the guys they 'surrendered to' decided to go back on their promise.

KUCHING: A school teacher has brought a civil suit against her husband claiming for a few million ringgit damages over the loss of her virginity.

... She was still a university student when sometime in 2006 she met a man (now her husband) slightly younger than her.

After a few months of courtship, they decided to become husband and wife in the future.

... The plaintiff claimed that it was her first sexual experience with a man and she had surrendered her virginity to him that night upon the promise that the first defendant would be responsible for his act and marry her.

... The man allegedly broke his promise a few months ago (despite the fact that they had registered as husband and wife at the end of last year but without going through the Chinese ceremony).

Stroke of insight

2008-04-01T09:15:00.004+08:00

From ted.com, transcript here.

Neuroanatomist Jill Bolte Taylor had an opportunity few brain scientists would wish for: One morning, she realized she was having a massive stroke. As it happened -- as she felt her brain functions slip away one by one, speech, movement, understanding -- she studied and remembered every moment. This is a powerful story of recovery and awareness -- of how our brains define us and connect us to the world and to one another. (Recorded February 2008 in Monterey, California. Duration: 18:44.)

Media , Cognitive, and Values

2008-03-28T01:10:00.008+08:00

"Today's child is bewildered when he enters the 19th century environment that still characterizes the educational establishment where information is scarce but ordered and structured by fragmented, classified patterns, subjects and schedules." - Marshall McLuhan 1967

Got it from a friend of a friend of mine.

I'm new to Marshall McLuhan, I'd quickly skimmed through his life background and his works in his Wikipedia entry here.

I haven't really got the real hang of his famous "the medium is the message" proposition, but I could still somewhat able to relate to what he thought about the effect of technology on human cognitive and how it affects values such as Protestantism, nationalism and democracy in our country.

Anybody familiar with the European history? Remember how the whole continent plunge into the Dark Age after the fall of the Roman Empire? Remember how feudalized their community had been? The Roman Catholic Church had enjoyed uncontentious grip on European politics and culture back then, as well as economic wealth.

That only last until people over there learnt how to print documents in mass amount, especially the Bible. Since then, the priests cease to be the 'privileged few' who could access and interpret the Bible, and from then onwards, as more people learn how to read, more people start to discover and question the discrepancies between the Church's teaching and that of the Bible. Hence the Reformation. The 'Kingdom of God' was literally split into two; the Catholic Church and the Protestant.

Interesting isn't it that we are seeing the same trend here in Malaysia? What the internet has done to Malaysia is exactly what printing presses did to Europe ages ago. With more and more people having access to unfiltered information, Malaysians has become more independent and more confident as well as individualistic. As for the Malays especially, the 12th General Election has witnessed them breaking away from the Umno feudal chains into a more Protestantismic freedom. To look back at it in a bigger picture, together with related events around the world, I cannot be any more amazed at the wonder that comes with unrestricted access to information; how it affects the growth of participatory democracy.

Now, I'd like to take it further; what would come after full-fledged democracy? Anarchism? Anarchy is not necessarily a bad thing though; you can see it as a condition where humankind has become very developed and advance in conscience and reasoning where we need very very little rules to regulate us and intervene on our behalf to resolve conflicts. Imagine a world where there is virtually no rules, no laws, but freedom and willing participation in advancing a society's cause.

Already now we are entertaining the theory that our consciousness amount to nothing more than just an illusion or perhaps an exaggerated by-product of our survival instincts, where we realise that there's no such thing as 'you' and 'me' and it would be primitive to think 'me, me, me'. Alright I think I sound a little too complicated. But if you're interested, I recommend you to read 'The Mystery of Consciousness' by Steven Pinker (TIME Magazine), published on Jan 19 2007.