[you deserve better than mainstream]

Rapture

2010-08-09T16:31:00.001+08:00

Quiet time is
sitting in my toilet
haunches flattened out against
white sticky yellow concrete
on a Friday night, 8 pm
buckets – red buckets with white or grey handles
it doesn’t matter
staring at the still water
deceptively still
soap bubbles lie in wait like
frogs, silent, calm, undisturbed
immeasurably
silent until the fuckin’ pressure intensifies in one swift moment and
explodes.

2010-07-14T15:48:00.005+08:00

I remember a story where

a girl pushed away all her friends
to be with the boy she liked.

It was an epic story
of loss of identity, emptiness, subsequent ennui
not for the girl, but for her insecure friends
and at such a sudden loss
sought to destroy
a beautiful thing in this world.

Isn't it senseless
to
pretend to understand someone
through the lenses of others?

This I fear, and very much hope
against so coming true
Don't let silence
fall between us two
Don't let the insecurities of
others
so cleave us through.

We have bedrock.

2010-07-12T14:56:00.002+08:00

It is silence, that scares the hell out of me.

Please, don't ever let it set in.

2010-06-08T02:47:00.002+08:00

Flagship store for upward mobility

Ah yes, sir. Right away.

Good day, sir. I see you’re

interested in our line of products and of course, services I assure you

will open up a brand new world of exciting possibilities and horizons

for your tired, but recently ascended being. I’m sure you

could already use a break since then and

hence, my very pleasure to assist you in an instructive manner.

Right around here, we’ve got our collection of elegant

consumables, designed and made with the newly-minted cosmopolitan in mind.

As fresh new additions to your current presentation, they

simply portray uniqueness and a certain level of depth

not quite like any other you’ve experienced. I encourage you to

consider, how well this collection will define your style in a long way

given your first foray into your new ascension.

And if you’d follow me now, here are some of our more defining

distinctives, specially crafted with the keen care and attention we offer

to all the splendid things you see here, ceaselessly without any discount

as it is.

In your necessary project to reconfigure your wardrobe, they will

immediately grant you a gravity, stature and sophistication

otherwise found so wanting in nouveau fashion.

I cannot stress enough to you

how these here are imperative to maintaining your disposition.

Ah yes, of course sir. At our store

we take pains to highlight that as our guest you mean nothing

short of exquisite and important, and we ensure you receive

the love and attention as we feel for you. Our surroundings

are designed with you in mind, yourself esteemed as it is.

Finally, we have a private showroom function where we unveil

our most treasured – exclusivities

uncompromisingly perfect, rarefied and absolute

Our guest dignitaries adorned with each

makes them luminous as they are celebrated

As their heels grace the white marble steps

we gape and adore in their distinguished gait

But pardon me sir, I beseech you, keep your fingers off the display set.

My short stories

2010-05-19T01:06:00.001+08:00

Over the years in my stint in university i've written quite a few short stories and two poems. here are some to share, as follows in the posts below.

The titles:

1) Rejection Letter (poem)
2) just a figment of my imagination
3) In the name of
4) Jojo
5) disturbing incoherence
6) Juck-Arse

Juck-Arse

2010-05-19T01:00:00.000+08:00

If the world
is made of two spheres of action
with a hole and a drill inbetween
then I and maybe you
are the forces in this world

If you think
that you might even constitute
even half of the action in this mutual whackdown
then I will think that
you are pretty useless

then of course, I and maybe you
are the forces of the world
but ever since
on your part
you decided to
mix powder from instant noodles
to bake our snow-white chocolate martini birthday cake
that sheer insignificant shallowness
nonchalance

You're pretty much done for.
I'm removing you from this world.

My World.

disturbing incoherence

2010-05-19T00:59:00.000+08:00

Johnny lies along the watchtower, quiet and motionless, piercing eyes, watching as someone lilts off the edge in the distance.

There's something about Johnny this day. He is possibly exploring the possibilities of possibly being anything but coherent. Of course that would mean that she would have to conceive what is coherent in the first place in order to counteract that and be consistently incoherent.

But that would mean that there's is some sense of coherence, for if you are consistently incoherent then it means that this frame of incoherence actually relates to the next frame of incoherence in terms of being incoherent. So in fact you're being coherent in your incoherence.

No reason to get excited, the thief he kindly spoke. There are many here among us, that feel that life is but a joke.

So now when he saw the figure in flowing pink satin and epic lengths of brown tresses engage in a bold display of bodily expression and circular beauty he couldn't help but think of the locks of hair that she would trip over and the stone walls she'd dash her head on. That'd would be more epic than any epic fail.

Businessmen they drink my wine Plow men dig my earth

In breakdancing, there is the high chance that you'd by accident break your spinal cord and sever all the bonds your nerves have with your brain and leave you decapitated. Otherwise, you'd probably just do the less dangerous stunts and call it a day.

Johnny realises that the tangerine plants he grew in the Octopus's Garden weren't really going to leave the comforts of the sea bed. He theorises that these tangerine plants were probably too comfortable sleeping in the sand of the garden floor to even want to go out and kiss the sun. Not that there wasn't light in the Octopus' Garden, hell you've got shade to block the sunlight out, and logically what does that tell you? But he had placed the tangerines in the shadows too, for he was afraid that the sun would melt them and turn them into speakers and disturb the Octopus.

Now he yearned to reach out and push them into the sun, for they were not really growing very well. That's what you get when you spoil and cushion your children don't you.

In the distance the pillar looked like an overwhelming phallus, towering over the sand. The figure was still dancing on top of the platform. Johnny estimated the platform to be around 3 by 10 metres.

So let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late

I'll not talk falsely now thus. That girl's gonna fall. She hasn't got much space to dance on and still holds that much passion and vigour. You know times like these you sit your arse down on the tarmac.

All along the Watchtower Princes kept the view

Johnny felt an icy sensation on his velvet shoulder. The ceiling began drip absinthe. The wind placed a contraption made out of a funnel and a tube attached to a needle and began to pierce Johnny.

Outside in the distance a wildcat did growl
Two riders were leaving and the wind began to howl

In the distance, the figure stepped closer, and closer, and yet closer, minute by minute, toe by toe, inching tortuously towards the nibbling edge as powders of concrete and pieces of rock eroded. Like stone butterflies they appear to be suspended in the air, dancing freely in the vindictive and biting wind that bite grudgingly at their disintegrating being, until the sunbeams on their surface contrast sharply with the dark chasm below, and they cease to exist in official documents and government databases and social being.

The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.

Jojo

2010-05-19T00:57:00.003+08:00

Somehow the day doesn't feel that bad today than it was yesterday. The rain had stopped, the clouds had dispersed and the lazy sun licked the lush surface of the earth.

I saw the vast expanse of the fields and the golden hue of the horizon. Birds flitting from earth to bush to branch to tree. As they made sound the fields reflected their dark noisy altercation and excitement. Then there were butterflies in flowers struggling for a piece of nectar with noisy houseflies and attentive lizards.

There was a bit of wind too, and I felt it softly nudge the feet of the rotting dog laying by a split mango and its tree. Dark Humour; shadowy figures stalked the premises, frequently thrusting their sharp fronts into the flesh. As they moved their heads bobbed, as though nodding to the easily welcoming sunbeams and fresh atmosphere.

The wind, floating, led a scurry of brown leaves past my gaze, as though on an excursion to some undetermined place. Then, like a maestro, he coaxed them into an elaborate, gracefully erratic display of whistling song and dance, first spinning wildly, then slowly transiting into a spiral, in a small circle, then bit by bit with more and more passion, swirling and swirling into wider and wider arc, before finally going out of control and crashing against the glass tinklers of the mouldy windchime hanging on the door of an oak cottage.

They looked up from their preoccupation in response into the distance, as though in fervent anticipation, before reaching down to pull off another morsel of fur and skin.

I saw the glimmering sun cast the tree's shadow on this house. Perhaps this was a trick to hide the intricate boreworm holes in the walls of the countenance, if you painted the house black then you wouldn't see the holes at all. Presently the door frame creaked under the restless pull of the windchime.

The windows were drawn wide in the open direction of the rising sun, who of course threw the mango tree's dark shadow into the house, and on the door lay a faithfully dusted but rotten wooden knocker. Two chairs sat at the front of the house, with the one on the right consistently clean and dusted, while the other grew yellow stains on its pink surface.

I saw a stir and a groan. Followed by a aching creak of a bed frame. Some feeble shuffling of feet and halted movements. In a moment there was the clinking of glass, the clatter of spoons, the rattling of tin pans - unmistakable sounds of breakfast. A long drawn-out and almost-grating painful drag of wood against wood, then all was silent again, for about 10 stanzas, before I felt the quivering lips and chattering plastic teeth.

Time could have passed quietly as the sun began to take a less compromising position in the blue sky. A nudge, a push - and the gentle tinkling of the glass chimes informed the opening of the door. I saw a further shuffling of feet, followed by a prudent step on the porch, as though in half-hesitation, before, shifting the weight a little, slowly brings decisive pressure onto the gnawing porch, followed by movement by the other foot, with the same intricate decision-making process, thereby moves down from the house.

The wind moves the shawl into flowing fluid motion as it unwraps itself from the pale and botched skin of the neck and flies disappear into the distance, while startled hands try claw at the last remnants of red woollen fabric.

I heard the shuffling of painful feet again, rustling the dead leaves by the house. Making its way slowly. But I could feel strong determination. For neither distracted nor divergent progress was made in an authoritative direction. Slowly but surely, I saw progress, and progress it was directed behind the cottage.

By now the sun had reached the height of its ascent, and its glimmer had turned into a strong glare down on the house. I saw a shadow thus formed on the sandy ground - weak in constituent structure and lacking credible support. Slowly in aching movements it began to stretch out horizontally left and right, like wings that do not have much width nor span to speak of flight. Where the shadow stretched furthest, an pebble was dropped at both ends, and they fell, giving up much of their imbued potential into the soft ground of the sand.

For a while there was silence, much withheld from the persistent glare of the sun. A glint, though, as the sand absorbed moisture into its dry crevices. The drops had navigated their way through complex and meandering ridges and rugged contours and parched facial features before dangling at the edge, at the mercy of motion, how slight and feeble.

I heard shuffling of feet again. On the sand, I heard the feet shuffle forth, hesitate, then shuffle back again. Another prolonged wait, followed by another round of shuffling feet. Another prolonged shuffling feet, another round of waiting. I saw a lines being drawn out of the sand thus, one interconnecting the other in an obvious but not very sharp pattern, sometimes the lines were a bit crooked, sometimes they veered off a straight line, most times they were not even straight to start with. I held the blazing sun from moving away from the shuffling of feet so that I could see clearly what was actually being formed; lo and behold, gradually and determined, a rectangle was formed.

In a while there was silence, the sand now left alone and undisturbed, and the house that had been quiet now livened with activity again. The same shuffling, and the dropping of pebbles, on wooden boards, the long wait, and then prolonged shuffling again. Same old same old. All same. No clinking of glasses or metal clatter. Only the annoying tinkling of the windchime at the door.

One of the birds had flown to the back of the house in search of seeds. When it had found one, it cawed out loud, and was soon joined by another. Then another, then another. Soon the back of the house filled with incessant cawing, and pecking on the sand.

A fearful choked cry rang out from the house, and like the urgency and haste of spreading heat, hurried steps and desperate shuffling, in startled fury and anguished passions like the sudden raising of hellfire on the back of the neck and then the pinpricks and needles on the spine, all in mournful anger and aimless despair and desperate rage - chasing away those pitiful birds.

Well the rectangle earlier outlined is indeed in a mess now. Still there should be no reason to scare the poor birds away. I watched as the same process of shuffling, stone-dropping, waiting and even more shuffling and drawing persisted. Somehow I'd wish the wind would just blow everything away.

When the task was finally done, I observed the rectangle in the sand and saw that it was perhaps around the size of a sleeping bed. The kind that furnished certain rooms in most houses. It would be weird though, to think that a bed would be constructed on this very spot behind the house wouldn't it?

~~~~

The sun sets.

Marlene Dumas, Measuring your own grave

In the name of

2010-05-19T00:56:00.000+08:00

Dear Mr Cakes,

In heart and mind, in soul and aura, I pray that I might have the strength to be there for ppl who need someone, and still manage to support my intense endeavours and ambitions. May I find the strength to heave others into balance, the bravery to engage those who others will not, the clear head and mind for me to listen without preconceptions and biases, and a clear heart that grows towards genuinely wishing everyone well.

This is my way of thanking your support and quiet nudges all throughout my life. You know that as much as I am proud I can't walk this world alone. You represent the automatic walking shoes that assure my stability when I am about to fall or the jaw-and-mouth braces that prevent me from saying shit before I think.

You are I as much as I am You. You understand me as much as I understand you. If You are gone I shall be free but clumsy and tripping and damned, having lost half of my identity and self.

Remind me that we can never totally help people. We've tried to make some people happy but they'd just stabbed us in the heart. And I know you always shifted so that you got stabbed. Your analytical mind takes most of the blows that We go through in a single day. For that, I really thank you.

Granted, you're not really a very nice person. I've seen you do malicious things to other ppl because they disturbed us. And your words can stab and maim and kill when you want them to. Your motto is always, Treat yourself the best cos' no one else will. In some sense you're selfish too. I always have a hard time reining in your aggresively sharp and deviant impulses. Once or twice you trick me with common sedatives so that you can run more freely, but I always gain the upper hand. :-D

We are the best friends ever. An insult to you is an insult to me.

written on 2nd February, 1521 hours, in Central Library, while listening to Thee Michelle Gun Elephant

just a figment of my imagination

2010-05-19T00:55:00.000+08:00

Some people are meant to do great things and realise that they are supposed to do so from a great young age. But clearly I'm not. But wanting to at least achieve a decent level of proficiency I thought it was only cool to approach the divine for inspiration and guidance.

I climbed the marshmellow stairs up and passed the cloud barriers and saw the bright of day shining before me. I took a step forward and saw Mr Leach.

"Sir, can you tell me how might I work to achieve good rhythm timing and bounce?"

He glanced up from his sawdust-y table and scratched his gray hair with his powdery fingers. "Seriously, I have not the faintest clue! I'm not really that good with these things... I only listen! But I would imagine you would need at the very least stamina and a good ear... Now I think you can go downstairs and ask Grant how he does it. I think he'd have a better answer!"

And so i walked down the marshmellow staircase, down on to concrete ground, opened the black manhole and walked down some slippery sticky steps into darkness.

Suddenly I heard a spark and a immense sonic boom behind me. The steps roared with yellow-red flames that licked the orange sky that was the ceiling. I was trapped!

The terrain was rugged and scorching. I saw Grant pushing himself up and down against the burning ground with only his thumbs and index + middle fingers.

"Erm excuse me sir, My apologies for disturbing but Mr Leach sent me down here to for advice as to getting rhythm timing and bounce,"

For a while I thought he was going to ignore my existence and leave me stranded for all of eternity. But then he slid into a kneeling position and clasped his hands together. Then he got up and disappeared behind some caves. I followed him and faced his red arms cradling a blackish-red X-series. Without a word, he started to play and the whole of the land reverbed with his rhythm.

After that I thought it was about time to leave. "Eh Sir, thank you for your demonstration today. Could you let me out now?"

He held out his nail-less fingers and dropped a super-small plectrum onto my hands. It felt kinda warm on my skin, though it left no mark whatsoever. I took out a bundle that I previously prepared and unwrapped the cloth napkin.

"This is a token of appreciation from me," I said as I uncovered the box of chocolate muffins and placed them on a rock nearby.

Thereafter I walked up the dry stairs by this time and out of the manhole. After that I found the marshmellow trail and climbed up the stairs.

"So, what have u learnt from Grant downstairs?" Mr Leach put down his drill-saw and dusted his hands on his apron.

I told him that I thought he was a freakin' awesome player but a lousy listener. After all he never realised the muffins I gave him.

"Ah, but that's to be expected! Here, have a seat and give me a minute."

By heavens a minute feels like a passing of eternity. Finally he came out behind the brass door and handed me a hardcase.

"I made this just for you! Seeing that you're mild and much unhumourous person I didn't quite think you'd like one that was too bright. Likewise you have hot stuff in your underbelly, so I thought this suits you best,"

I asked him if he would listen to my playing and help me improve.

"Why of course! That's what you're here for isn't it?"

Rejection Letter (a poem)

2010-05-19T00:54:00.000+08:00

Hiya.

It's been a while since the last incident
after the long long time since we last spoke
I think you're probably still thinking that
the two of us.... aww nvm.

Isn't it amazing how we've come so far
from the rusty slides and the crummy see-saws
the creaking monkey bars and the abandoned
playground

below our crumbling pale grey flats
where the old mango tree hangs its fruits
We'd throw with concrete from the nearby site
against the ever-growing glass towers
and the numerous smooth pavements that cut

our paths to school where I'll just like die
under my heavy school bags while you'd breeze along
your torn-and-sewn polyester bag where your pride
and your excuse to relieve me lay
all through our velcro strap-ons to white converse sneakers

I've known you've always held a torch
in the nights we walked home after dance
But Saturdays you've always had part-time
And my Sundays are for church and shopping
You could've styled your hair a little nicer too.

I chased the paper harder than you did
And Dad finally moved us into Serangoon Gardens
I never understood why you could never catch up
Only clues are those bruises and heavy sleepy eyes
And an attendance rate of 34 over 95

Vaguely remember that you were cold and lonely
in a world that didn't appreciate your Singlish and Hokkien
But hey I'm busy and I've got problems too you know
like darn chemistry equations and stupid project work
and moolah for the Agnes b. sale coming in two weeks

I can't help it if we are drifting apart.
I'm flying so high now and the last thing I need
is for you to remind me of my rotten past
where the present is bleak and the future a luxury
Let's just say I've moved on; you stayed behind

You could have been the son of a rich man
or even a stylish trendsetter amidst
the swirling colourful neon and pulsing music
But what exactly I'd loathe to share
are the shackles around your feet and wings.

I'm no longer the person you threw stones
or played catching lizards with
There are so many possibilities overseas
more than you can ever imagine
Let's just say it's all my fault, it's not yours
I'm sure you will find a nice girl
to do your chores and take care of the house

I'm sorry but can I ask you not to bother me anymore?

Michael Hedges - Ragamuffin

2010-05-15T17:15:00.000+08:00

Thesis

2010-05-06T12:55:00.003+08:00

This paper seeks to bring forth the commonly held preliminary notions of social interaction before an individual enters a state of association as characterized by dynamics of the triad. I argue that because of the tenacity of circular, unprogressive and at times one-sided judgements on the nature of being, often understated and taken-for-granted simulations of associative behaviours, as well as the pre-associational, albeit socially constructed cognitive expectations of these generalized simulations of behaviour, societal interactions today in contemporary societies are almost all but hanging by vague and thin social strands that are typically produced, arranged, packaged and thereby signified to be "social" by symbolic entrepreneurs with vested interests in the symbolic economy of Capitalism.

Ultimately, I intend to prove that Baudrillard's schema of "death" of the social and meaning was, and still and always will be misguided, for the hyper-reliance of Capitalism symbolic entrepreneurs on pre-postmodern systems of meaning ambiguity in order to maintain systems of symbolic needs structured to force consumers to continue engaging in the satisfaction of these needs. Thus, Baudrillard's suggestion of "Seduction" to bring back systems of ambiguity only serves to maintain the hegemony and relevance of the Symbolic Economy.

This paper will then suggest that the key method to break this patterned hegemony of the symbolic/sign economy is to further engage in another of Baudrillard's suggestions, which is to push for an hyper-overloading of signified reality for all spheres of an ideal-typical social reality of the individual, where personalized structures of discipline, punishment and restraint help in dogmatically preventing the individual from any recognition, understanding or even curiousity towards any alternative interpretation of all social phenomena, reality and intrinsic being. In simple terms, this means the individual must personally institute cultures to stop oneself from actively seeking meaning to understand social reality. This paper will finally end off by "connecting the dots" to show how such a course of action will very quickly break the already-settling equilibrium characterized by the Capitalist Sign/Symbolic Economy, and further dissolve related institutions and structures and dogmatically force progress into fully meaningful forms of societal organization and human behaviour.

I am

2010-04-23T22:11:00.002+08:00

quite thankful for this semester actually. Note thankful doesn't necessarily mean "happy". But there were times of scintillating clarity, which, though immediately followed by crushing confusion, was in itself a refreshing change.

Ooops suddenly lost track of what I wanted to say.

But of course, it would probably include, the first half of this year opened my eyes, made me deeper, made me think more, etc...

Exams!

2010-04-18T20:39:00.001+08:00

IRON MAN 2 SUPER GOOD!!!! MECHA FTW!

End of Semester thoughts

2010-04-17T22:32:00.004+08:00

This blog entry should contain a reflection of the semester that's come and pass. It's very much easier to write without having to think about logical frames and references, cos' depending on how you see the world, your logic or unlogic will follow.

I probably haven't been a really good boy this semester. Haven't been on my best behaviour. Some regrets here and there, and quite a lot of stuff happening too. That I've pulled through is perhaps testament to my tried-and-tried flesh armour that has been keeping me strong throughout the long long years. However, it's only armour, and armour can't tell you how you should behave and act properly, and so I have ended up bumping around quite often, reaped some small problems here and there, some big ones, by my own hands made my own life somewhat more challenging - and that's a stupid thing to do too, but seriously, no one really knows what will happen when you do this or do that, and that's why people pray for miracles.

I'm halfway away from advocating the dynamism of "human interaction", or whatever that is. It used to be that I could say that we are all dynamic beings, that's why the world doesn't stand still, and that's why hegemonic homogeneity is bound to fail. Not that sure of that myself now. Cos' it seems that there are such patterns to how people will behave, how people will react to certain social stimuli and conditions. After a while, it gets a bit boring because you always come back to the same conclusion.

It's been 3 years now, and I have just realised that I've been asking the wrong questions thus far. In fact, I've been depoliticized myself, by the distracting character of the school institutions and its system. In fact, I've made it almost synonymous with my identity. And that's why I've been so insecure thus far. Johnson.... you need to wake up your idea!!

On an unrelated note, it's been 6 years since it happened to me, on that cold night in february in Thomson, near that well where we trainees were gathered for training. It's been 6 years since then... and I'm personally amazed that I'm still hanging on. Of course, the semi-unreceptive mind that is mine can always bring up a "Matrix" argument and say that I am already dead - that all this are just illusions that I am conjuring up as I lay flat, body rotting on some desert with my mind barely breathing in its crummy cage. But for the love of sophistry and convoluted logic, every passing day shows me stuff that I can never, in my wildest and widest imagination have come up with. Like, some of the most obnoxious people who might be better termed as "boozehounds" than elite, sociology students, the most outrageous ideas I've ever come across, the most unsettling music I've ever listened to, and so on and so forth.

So I continue to believe that I'm not dead - and there's a world out there, an objective reality populated by real-life, breathing people who have their own set of thoughts, emotions, insecurities and life stories; not just merely single-dimensional figures that hop around as cardboard signs in the drama that I construct. I have to believe that there are very real, and emotionally-penetrating consequences behind each action I'm taking, stuff I'm saying, people I'm judging, etc. There's only a fine line where on crossing, can actually have me believing that nothing else matters and I'm the only agent in this simulated reality.

There have been philosophers who actually grapple with such issues, so it might mean that there has been a historical precedent to this. Like I think there was Descartes who actually considered the possiblity of an "evil genius" deluding his mind and playing with his understanding of existence. Sounds like bullshit actually. Of course there's this thing called "intersubjectivity" where your existence is supposed to be linked with others, you share a common interactional space and stuff like that. But I still can't personally "believe" in intersubjectivity, I still can't personally "believe" that other people and things actually are alive - and there.

It's definitely not an issue of perspective, like something abstract you can think up and appropriate as your "view". See, that incident 6 years ago has had a very real, biological effect on my "receptors", if you'd have it. It's very much like, an illness or condition on your body when you're down with a flu or have a fever - you are aware of it and you know you're not feeling well. Well, in the same way, ever since 6 years ago, such a condition has been with me thus far. I remember running down Upper Serangoon Road, sweat dripping and tears falling, because I didn't know what to feel now that nothing feels real anymore. It's also hard to actually relate this to other people, like as it I have written quite a lot and still feel that you, the reader probably have no idea what I'm talking about.

What was that incident 6 years ago? Was it an encounter with what you'd term as a "ghost"? I seriously don't know. I do remember being under quite a lot of stress, cos' I couldn't fit in the training, and the people there weren't exactly friendly. But I also remember the well, and I remember a story about it, and I also remember walking near - but just short of peering into it. And then, there you have me.

Sociology probably helped m a lot, and in ways that other students don't get from the intense study. Sociology helped me come to terms with the effects of this encounter. You'd find religion to make sense of these things, and they'd try to help you with some faith or another. Well, it's the same it is with sociology - not that it can be a religion in itself. You start to see norms and not individuality, you don't see decisions but you see scripted behaviour. You start to see that reality itself is a construct, just that for me, such an abstract perspective is actually a substantial bodily experience. And you understand that people have to make sense of their everyday life. Then you also understand that these days, most people don't want to have to make their own sense, they want to buy signs to tell them what kind of sense they should make. And how all this adds up to a simulation of reality, cos' it's you're not touching reality, you're touching signified reality. It's like watching reality through a Disney animated screen.

This blog is probably the best living record of my own thoughts, observations, reflections, etc. I wouldn't say that I'm writing on the assumption that no one is reading it (though it definitely feels like it), but at the same time I believe there's nothing to hide from the world that already knows you inside out, outside in. The consequences feel so minute to me, but all the same it's as though all this doesn't matter.

I'd like to actually go overseas. I'm intending to go somewhere explosive, and try to make it back here in one piece. I hope that the change in air will actually wake me. Am actually thinking of Indonesia, to take a look at their lived everyday lives. That's a plan worth getting excited for.

Oh shit

2010-04-15T17:48:00.000+08:00

Wait, did I even write that that in my last few posts?? Damn.

.

2010-04-14T01:40:00.004+08:00

Well that was quite some bits biting at your heartstrings. Perhaps this is as real as anyone can get to me. Anyway, here's a beautiful video.

2010-04-11T22:59:00.005+08:00

In the relationships of today,

it's always about yourself - how much you're getting out of the relationship. Never once about what the other person is going through. If s/he isn't able to give you what you want, then tell him/her to bunk off. Of course, that would surely make it obvious that you prize your expectations more than the other's going-throughs.

I've seen enough to know that I'm right. It's because of this consumerist society that all of us are living in. You're not in love with the person, you're in love with the mould you've created before - the person only fleshes it out. In effect, you're loving a simulation of your own mind. When the person uneasily shifts from that mould, aha - that person is a disappointment, so we'll break up. Either party can acquiese. The disappointment that hits you - is not because of lost love of someone concrete, but because of you've lost someone to fulfil that ideal mould. So the next step is to find someone else to fit that mould. It doesn't matter if it's a guy or girl, young or old, as long as you can materialize your ideal mould.

I've seen enough everywhere to know that I'm right. If you're young and educated, chances are you're consumerist too. Like me, you'd choose to look up those who fit your ideal mould, strike up a conversation, and try to win her heart. When you decide to move away from your ideal mould and start keeping an open mind, the end-result seems to prove to you that any other possibility is doomed to failure - and your ideal is the best.

How do you love someone without having first involving your ideal? How do you ask someone to continue to engage you even when their expectations are broken? How do you keep it real - and not love through silly smses, facebook messages, emails and phone calls? When you realise that the other person doesn't love you, but the mould that you are being put into, is it then time to set both parties free? When the other person can only understand the world naively in terms of good and evil, do you allow the other to portray you as the bad person so that both of you can move on? Do you have a fighting chance?

What do you do when you become so jaded with people? I've seen enough people to know that this is the right conclusion. I'm quite tired with these living grids we're in. It suffocates me, my being, and everyday, it embraces me like a phlegmy towel around my body. I carry this disillusionment - because I have given up finding resolution so that someone else can. These are words in me that I want to say, argue, fight back and make the record straight, but I have no more energy to. It doesn't make any sense now, and it doesn't mean anything now to make things straight.

I can only find solace in the experience of others - at least, I'm not alone. These people whom I've met, they only confirm to me that yes, relationships are just a sign exchange. I derive signs from you to put on my jacket, while you derive signs from me to pin on your dress. It doesn't matter who the person is - as long as you can derive the signs that you want to consume.

Like you in the back there, 2 seats from me - who tried to use me as a convenience friend once way back, I have no hard feelings. But don't you think I am so much more than that small portion of what you thought fit into the mould of your ex?

That's why anyone these days in this society who's jilted will feel jealous of any other couple. For the sole reason that they are blatantly consuming the signs that you can't consume. The grapes that were so near suddenly become yanked from you. You in the front row, you there in the back row, and you there with your legs crossed, and you there with your pretty makeup face and trashy fashion - all of you are guilty.

I've seen too many people to know that I'm right. Sorry folks.

Can't

2010-04-06T23:59:00.003+08:00

seem to be alright. It really feels empty now. You can be happy and go shopping. Now that's something to look forward to, the next agnes b or that pair of shoes. Maybe dinner at some restaurant and later mambo at zouk.

If everyone seems to think that such a life of flesh and consumption is best, then wouldn't it mean that those who strive for austerity for the sake of the soul are mistaken? If we can all live happily ever after in endless sex, drugs, booze, lots of neon, gossip girls, Juice, clubbing, then why don't we all just do it? Hedonism is the way to go isn't it? If you're feeling a bit empty, all you need to do is attend one of those hip churches and let the choir fill your veins for a morning, assure you that god still loves you no matter what you do, etc. and go back to your drinking that very night. Prozac for an irritating soul without messing your routine!

I remember someone whom I talked to through email. Hedonist through and through. Not bad, white middleclassbackground. In limbo. Hers was the perfect life, she said. Well, until she took the plunge and dashed her head on the concrete 15 below from some random HDB flat in Upper Thomson.

She didn't leave me anything. Didn't say goodbye or anything. Don't know any of her friends, only know how her soul is like.

Is there a hell? What happens when you don't take care of your soul? Is there a heaven? What happens when you have got a strong soul? Does it matter if you plunge into the gratification? Does it matter that, none of us want meaning, but signs, that tell us what to think? When you argue and say that we are thinking creatures, aren't your just thinking for the sake of consuming more signs? What is your thought worth?

In the workplace, you can sell your mind to the company. What is your thought worth? Is it a sign that you create and sell to others? When you write your resume, are you creating a business where the product is your mind and your resume is the price tag? In a similar way, why would your company makes such a beautiful website to seduce your mind?

Reality is dead. Truth is dead. Power is dead. In the ever-consuming mind, everyone is dead. Everything's a simulation. Simulation protects against death. Your body is dead. Because you dress it up with signs, your body is untouchable, untangible, unconceivable in any way but through your signs. You might not have become still or static, but there's no more sensitivity to your body. Your body is dead.

When s/he fucks you, both of you are consuming signs. Sex is dead because what you're doing is a mere simulation of the porn video you watched just yesterday. You are not fucking each other, you're simulating a fucking. You're disciplining your body to fit into signs designed to construct a fucking reality. Sex is dead. You're a pulp movie happening on your bug-infested bed.

So, consume, and consume ever more. We can do well without meanings, we can do just fine with signs. We don't need to give meaning, we only want to consume signs. I like shoes, I'm superficial, whatever.

Something to turn musicians into activists

2010-04-06T13:38:00.002+08:00

http://pitchfork.com/features/articles/7776-whats-the-matter-with-sweden/

"As American musicians wait to see whether Obama's landmark health-care legislation-- finally signed last week after a year of heated debate and concessions-- will do anything to relieve their worries about surging medical costs, countries such as Sweden, Norway, and Canada make it easier for bands to focus on the creative arts by providing not only universal health care, but often cold hard cash, too"

Hey, we aren't too bad. We have the NYC, NAC and MDA!!

Fuckshit

2010-04-05T21:47:00.004+08:00

It's not everyday you feel like you want to make an aggressive statement, so:

To all you fuckshit mainstream bloody asses, admit that you have no balls to take stifling, vein-emptying, brain-electrifying dissonance and deathcore music like a man. Sod off to 6 feet below where your fuckshit mainstream music will form maybe an insignificant appendix of the fuck world below. At least be useful - fuckin' feed them fuckin' worms that revolve the world. All of you self-assured and fuckin' sanitized asses.

Now, you'd agree with me such verbal abuse actually is therapeutic, don't you.

Stop acting so smart. Get off your apeshit "nouvelle" hip hop pedestal and join us.

2010-03-30T22:42:00.002+08:00

It's amazing how naivety and self-absorbedness can go so well hand in hand without anyone saying a thing.

2010-03-23T00:44:00.004+08:00

I've written quite a bit facebook these days. I don't know who reads this blog anymore. Some people keep their blogs secret and pray no one reads them. Some people deliberately open their blogs in the hope that people will fawn over their conjurations and glam presentations.

Some people deliberately open their blogs, and pen their most personal and intimate thoughts. Interestingly, no one seems to want to read these.

I confess. By a stroke of boredom and randomness I did encounter some sad things online. And yes it did remind me of my own very-recent experiences. It's a bit ironic isn't it? Everyone's going through roughly the same shit. It's just a different day.

Anyways. I wrote:

It's alright to be weak, to cry, to anguish, cos' sometimes there's no point in pretending to be strong. It's alright to be vulnerable, to feel insecure, feel like there's no one to hold you when you fall, head first. It's alright to look at others and envy their bliss, pray for the day they'd be just like you. It's alright to paint an ugly picture of the ones who let you down, even if it just completely distorts everything you know about them. It's alright to make them the bad guys.

It's alright, break down, bump around, malfunction. We're all human and we'll understand.

God.. what a long night.

2010-03-20T18:32:00.002+08:00

Couldn't do any work today. Well at least I've got a bit down. Am going to try later.

It doesn't matter who's wrong, who's right, what happened, or even who leaves with what impression of the other. What matters is that all this is just a time in your life, and it'll come to pass, and it'll look so distant as you look back to it. I could conjure up a wall of thoughts that are all mine and valid, but then there wouldn't be a point in that will it?

I'm happy for anyone in this world who can walk down the road sashay and dance after a long rainy day. Doesn't matter if you're doing it against the traffic.

2010-03-19T20:52:00.002+08:00

"People SHOULD be doubted. Doubting is simply a part of trying to get to know another."

Do you know how liberating this sentence is? All of me - judgemental, confrontational, doubting, over-sensitivity - all thrown into a new light.

The key then, is what you do with that doubt. Do you clarify it? I believe I truly want to. But then people will find you a bore/chore/insensitive jerk.

Which I already am. I'm the lousiest kind of social animal ever possible. So it doesn't matter if I add one more smudge to the glass you see me through.

So I'd guess - I'd just be all this that I've always been. And push for more understanding. I believe you don't mind.

Insanely true

2010-03-19T20:40:00.001+08:00

People SHOULD be doubted. Doubting is simply a part of trying to get to know another.

Alright

2010-03-19T15:55:00.003+08:00

I couldn't resist nailing down another post, seeing that it's 199 posts already. 1 more to make it round.

Of late I've been troubled by a realization of myself. I realise that for every idea I have, I find that it is more a construct of my imagination that teethers on the boundaries marking real-world, objective relation to the, well, world. In other words,

is it grounded? I know too little about the world in terms of lived experiences. I think it's becoming, albeit gradually, a big bugbear in my life. It's annoying.

I can be annoying when I don't wish to.

I

2010-03-19T15:48:00.002+08:00

do profess to digress from my daily routine by spilling some of my buzzing thoughts in this little democratic space I have here.

It's democratic because its representational tendencies and subsequent rights that come out of it remain mine and mine alone. There's also a subset of this democracy extended to anyone who wishes to be heard in the form of the chatbox and the comment box.

I could proceed with an autobigraphy of my identity construction and beliefs as well as my rationalizations for doing things the way I do them, but then I realise that that would be so boring - even for any form of voyeuristic adventure.

Perhaps, all that's sufficient to mention - one sentence to sum it up:

I'm in constant flux, and this flux defines me.

2010-03-12T23:18:00.002+08:00

Can I break down? for once? doesn't matter isn't it

2010-03-12T23:14:00.002+08:00

I wrote something new and blogger happily didn't upload it. Fuck you.

See you at the Lights

2010-02-24T15:57:00.001+08:00

Hi all, I'm going to do 3 separate things today: a) be frivolous, b) be frivolous, c) be semi-frivolous. In an academic way.

But really, this is for fun. Admins can choose to delete this.

So, a summary of what I'll be doing, each of which have nothing to do with each other:
a) I shall argue that there's no such thing as an "internal" body of science, and thus STS students are basically studying thin air (for fun),

b) I shall be arguing that the "internal" sphere of science which STS scholars like Yearley so dearly say is "untouchable" by the external milieu is in fact, grossly wrong - instead I argue the ALL the content in the internal sphere of science is ENTIRELY dependent on the External milieu (for fun),

and c) I shall say that maybe, the internal is not all that untouchable by the external (not for fun). We need to redefine the external.

Context: Yearley reading, page 35. "... Recent sociologists of science have not, however, wished to argue that internal factors are overriden by gross social factors. Science is very often a highly insulated pursuit... ... ... Increasingly, scientific knowledge is constructed by small numbers of specialized workers. They are often very effectively insulate from broad social forces."
For my tutorial this was the key thing you see. Dr Coopman explained that hey, with regards to science, there is a a really impenetrable barrier which defines the internal sphere of scientific studies, and this is the sphere that is untouchable by your external milieu. The understanding is that: the processes in scientific study is somewhat comfortably insulated from broader social forces.

Why? I think it's got to do with the nature of study: Nature itself. Nature, being the objective messy world out there, is not man-made. I mean, the processes in the science lab are social, scientists' interpretation is social, but because the research focus is on natural phenomena, that's why you can't really say that the external wider milieu affects your research process and stuff. By concept the natural world is a thing on its own - the scientists are said to be "in conversation" with nature - and not with the human sphere. When scientists study solar waves it probably is not affected by external factors like unemployment, migrant workers and decline in birth rates.
And when scientists replicate the "Natural phenomenon" in their labs and manipulate it, this piece of nature is divorced from the outside. When you cut a patch of grass and soil from East Coast Park and put it in your room for further study of radioactive messages from Mars, it is automatically insulated from the barbeque activities, the mythologies of ghost spirits, frequent smooching sessions and of course, anti-trespassing laws.

Yay! Now that we're in context we can start the ball rolling.

a) Arguing that there's no such thing as an "internal body of science" (for fun). There's a pool of theories that are termed post-modernism. Apparently there's the notion of Hyperreality - where in the highly-mediarized world we live in, we are basically living in the world of simulations. We do not need to go down to Haiti to know that hell's breakin' loose there - we just turn on the TV and the Haiti music video featuring Maroon 5 and Black Eye Peas on Channel 5 will tell us all we need to know.

From wikipedia (for sake of simplicity): ".... hypothetical inability of consciousness to distinguish reality from fantasy, especially in technologically advanced postmodern cultures". An example: Pornography. Guys (and girls I dare say) watch this idealized version of amour, immerse themselves inside this representation which is grossly inaccurate (how can anyone position themselves in such awkward positions for 2 hours of video time?), and for this duration of viewing, this representation becomes something real on its own; viewers start believing that sex is like that. The content of the porn video becomes a form of believed reality in itself - and thus the viewers enter "Hyperreality" - where one's sense of reality is too immersed in simulated forms of reality that are too detached from actual reality itself.

Let's see if we can equate this to Science.... Scientists rely on lots of lovely equipment, visual imaging apparatuses, intermediary devices that "translate" nature into signs and symbols that become read as a representation of the real natural world out there. It's just a representation. The problem is when scientists themselves begin believing that this mere representation is indeed reality out there. If you've read Sismondo's chapter on Studying the Lab you'll see that scientists, once finished with all the research and having written the end result - the research thesis, remove the local conditions from which the research was done, i.e. they generalise it. These scientists thus believe in their findings as reality itself.

But it's only a representation of reality they have. As scientists work in the laboratory, they rely on their instruments to render simulations of reality - which they have come to perceive as reality itself. So, in postmodernist terms, they can't distinguish simulation from reality, and when they can't, they have entered a fantasy world, the Hyperreal!

ALL Scientists of Nature have been duped, systematically, into thinking that their studies are truth. Thus the whole internal sphere of science, which is totally predicated on this fantasy world created by inaccurate representations, is a sham. The internal sphere of science is Hyperreality. Their study focuses, their experiments, their interpretations and all, basically make up the internal sphere of science, which unfortunately is all fake because it's a detached world from natural reality. It's all Hyperreality.

Therefore, there's no such thing as an internal sphere of science! And studies on the internal sphere of science is basically, thin air!

b) Arguing that ALL content from the Internal sphere of science is ENTIRELY dependent on the External milieu (for fun). I understand Yearley’s point… Just b’cos Obama’s pushing his healthcare policies, doesn’t mean that from now on, all American scientists will start doing research on health diseases and start saying that all human diseases are increasing at an ungodly rate in proportion to the accumulated stress from exorbitant hospital bills.
Yearley’s reading has got really powerful arguments. So he says that the Internal sphere of science is not really touchable by the External social milieu. He even brought up the example of Newton’s law of gravity, pg. 35: “Hessen’s argument was that the agenda and contents of Newton’s work were determined by his socioeconomic environment. Early capitalist development required certain forms of knowledge and Newton supplied them… But, … it is an unfortunate representative for sociology to have acquired.”

He’s basically saying it’s a scourge of Sociology to have taken up the “external” focus with regards to science!! Like what?? I’m here to make things straight. You see, Yearley’s thinking through the professional perspective of science. But you shall see too, that what Yearley’s done is to seriously undermine and render invisible the numerous salient ways that Internal World of Science is directly affected by the External. Basically, your scientific study results on solar neutrinos is dependent on my mum's cooking.

I shall begin to clinch the deal: Look at i) Scientists and ii) Scientific Equipment. Scientists à Yeah they’re really cool in the lab in white. They’re smooth as grease in their profession. BUT how do you think they are able to go to work every weekday morning? Who feeds them? Makes their meals and sustains them? Without a supportive Family Ideology that relegates women to child-rearing, your male scientists can never expect to commit producing scientific content in the Internal sphere of science. Without the global care chain where women from SEA migrate to host countries to take care of your children, female scientists cannot expect to work in labs without starving their children. Without fiscal policies at the governmental level favouring attractive saleries for scientists à what convinces scientists to work so hard in the internal sphere of science?

The very dependence – of the very possibilities of existence and quality and character of the content formed in the Internal Sphere of Science – on the External wider social milieu cannot be any more emphasized. Even your scientific equipment: w/o socioeconomics & strong market-oriented state policy for science, where do you get your geiger counters, your automatic pipettes, perhaps even your computers? Without interior design & aesthetic concepts of form & function, how would your laboratory look like?

Ther Internal is actually supported by an entire network of the External. Therefore, ALL content in the Internal Sphere of Science is ENTIRELY dependent on the External, wider social milieu.

c) I think we should redefine the external (semi-serious). Ok I concede. I can’t beat Yearley. Science has its own durability – the internal world in science is what makes it so strong, durable, and not all fluff, not all social construction. Because it’s looking at something not man-made. However, I think that whatever things happen in the internal sphere of science, once this piece of scientific study “leaves the laboratory”, scientists no longer have any power over its proliferation – and its use. So, in order to account for this, a refocus of what to look at in the external milieu – has to be defined and operationalized. I think this is by far the most representative statement of my thought on STS – in order to reconcile the big dichotomous battle in my mind between science and society.

Thank you.

My reply to my Teacher's Reply to my blog post!!

2010-02-13T03:57:00.001+08:00

Feb 13, 2010 at 3:36 am

Heh heh heh I’m quite “classical” in view – so my analytical lens would be different from how STS ppl would look at things.

You know the first thing that hits me when you say that sociologists of scientific knowledge study natural scientists and their processes, it almost feels like we’re looking at them through a fishtank – they are the fishes. When you perceive to study another social “species” as it were, you inevitably wrought on the members of the social species some of interpretive power through the viewpoints in your latest bestseller. It’s almost akin to colonial studies of the sub-altern, where you have intellectuals like Ruyard Kipling analysing the other through his own subjective motivations and interpretive lens and then coming at a conclusion (The White Man’s Burden) which then becomes a form of imposed ideology upon the studied. Of course which in our STS case we do not actually wish to impose any form of ideology on them so that we can impose our will over them!

Foucault’s known to reject essentialist typifications of him – he’s been labelled a marxist, anarchist, and other political labels. Was he fickle-minded? Why does he strives so hard to struggle away from one stereotype, only to feel uneasy in another and move away again? Apparently, Foucault felt that if you become involved in a debate on how you should see yourself, you are already becoming subject to its definitive power. Say for example, society debates on how single mothers should be viewed. The individual who subscribes one’s identity to this debate will already become subject to the debate’s typifying power: on the 1st level, one has become essentialised as a single mother (when there are so many things one can be), and on the 2nd level, by normative statements saying what a single mother is. Even if you reject these statements, you are already sucked into the “arena”, and your identity will have to be contoured over what the others are saying about you.

So you’re saying something about scientists. Also saying something about their objectivity. Means we’re already taking the position of the disinterested observer – for us, their obsession with objectivity now becomes just another social artifact to be studied, not something that we acquiesce to be a belief that is inherent in our life-world. And because of the multi-disciplinary range of this academic faculty our journal articles might be deemed more “believable” than other perspectival schools.

This is actually fine, it’s just methodological technique. But I realise (I might be wrong!) that so far, a lot of the analysis is very specifically focussed on the scientists and the process itself, as you’ve succinctly written in your comment. Even efforts to expand the scope from micro to macro (through ANT, for example) still don’t seem macro enough w.r.t how society runs. Science Is Powerful. Every report, every journal article, every press conference becomes a social text that anyone can read, interpret and use (& abuse) for their own purposes.

We are immensely indebted to Samuel Morton, with his scientific use of bb metal pellets to measure skulls of various people, for showing that brain sizes do differ for people in different parts of the world, and for helping us understand why “negroes” are so backward. His work was undoubtedly definitely instrumentally important in crafting colonial social policy in the colonial times he was in.

It’s amazing how back then no one publicly asked, why the heck did he even decide to embark on exploring this form of natural phenomena? What made him so interested in measuring dead people remains? He a fetisher?

Are we thus depoliticizing science? Are we unintentionally hiding the Power Relations driving and defining our science? Why is scientific research on Climate Change so vaunted and powerful today? Why doesn’t the world worry about whether HIV really causes AIDs?

Very harrowing example: Hitler’s scientists were doing scientific, literally cutting-edge research on millions of Jews and marginalized peoples to get at some scientific objective. Now following your schema, an STS application would probably look at how the scientists are doing their work, how they’re interpreting the results gleaned from the screaming test subjects, how they are exploring natural phenomena by recreating conducive environments for their test subjects. Fair enough, we now know how they do their thing. But because of this somewhat single-minded focus, we are unable to consider the inherent socio-political background motivating these scientific studies. Like I said, we would have effectively depoliticized science. And because we are disinterested observers, it almost becomes a positive sanction to the social impact of the science of the Third Reich. It’s true that I’m not making value-judgements, but it’s also true that by not saying anything you can imply that doing the experiment is as moral as not doing the experiment. So, why shouldn’t we do the experiment, if we get paid to do it?

Is the systematic study of the Power Relations, constellations of interests, conflict and structure a mere studying of “what motivates anyone to do anything”? (If so I believe Marx, Gramsci and still many others would so be groovin’ 6 feet under.) Why study the subjective? Because the production of any kind of knowledge is definitely linked to the social millieu of the scientist, which is mediated through his interpretive lens. By studying their interpretive lens and the motivations behind the scientific question, we are able to account for the very salient Power Relations that background the whole process of science. This allows us to ask sneaky things like why did the natural sciences even want to establish their work as “objective” and through what powerful ideological means did they maintain their prime positions. So rather than asking how natural scientists construct scientific knowledge today, there’s equal merit in asking why and how did they arrive at these very methods of constructing scientific knowledge.

What power backgrounds led them to use such methods to construct their knowledge? Why is their knowledge so persistently prime? Why do some natural phenomena become studied and some neglected? We know that no one wants to fund the HIV-AIDs link research. Why is this? Whose interests are at stake here?

So! Whether this is a “Social Science of Science”, if all we do is study motivations. Well then we can say that Pasteur wasn’t exactly doing science because he looked at the natural, ecological background of the anthrax microbes and analysed why these critters wanted to hurt farm animals so badly. He should have just contented himself with analysing how the microbes “do their thang” and cut up steak, mutton and lions.

Ok I’m really sorry here, I couldn’t resist pulling off this joke! C’mon! But really, insofar as the Sociology of Science is studying Science, I argue that it is completely valid and meritable to study the driving forces behind our Science. Because the Sociology of Science is really a Sociology of Knowledge, not only is it cool to study the processes of knowledge production, it is also only logically rational to study how these processes came into paradigmatic being in the first place. Sounds like Kuhn eh? I never read his work, but I believe the lecture didn’t touch on the epic struggles in the underlying constellation of interests in society that perpetuated the shift in paradigm in the first place. The key here is not to negate the current methodological fields of STS, but to integrate with a clear appreciation of the background behind the construction of scientific knowledge.

Because science “produces too much hope or too much fear”, it’s only rational to understand why scientists study what they are studying. Very simply put, it’s a self-reflexive exercise that explores why we in our society are so hung up about studying stem-cell research and genetic influence on terminal diseases. And by allowing a better understanding of our own hopes and fears –> isn’t this something very valuable and very much relevant to our daily lives? We no longer take for granted why we worry about calories in Sunday’s breakfast or about the plastic bottles we drink our Coke from, we understand where our fears are really coming from.

Has all this been said before? I don’t know. I hazard a guess that Prof Volker Schmidt might have expounded on this in the days of yore given what the IVLE shows me. My knowledge is as wide as the 5 lectures I’ve attended, so as usual vote if this is junk.

Teacher's Reply to my blog post!!

2010-02-13T03:56:00.000+08:00

Catelijne // Feb 12, 2010 at 6:13 pm

Hey Johnson!

Now THAT is an dazzling post you wrote.

If I understand you correctly, you say that the process of knowledge production in the lab is neither the main nor the most obvious place where the social nature of science becomes evident. We should (also) look at what motivates scientists or lab directors to pursue certain topics in the first place.

Maybe.

But to me it seems that the sociologists of scientific knowledge are not very interested in the subjective dimensions of science. They are interested in the objective dimensions. So to them, it’s of minor concern how the person who initiated the hair growth study came up with the idea or motivation. What they want to know is how the team working on that study came up with “objective”, “factual” things to say about the biological mechanisms involved in hair growth. I am using the scare quotes here to indicate that, for the sociologists of scientific knowledge, the point is to try to explain how the objective-factual status of the results is thoroughly constructed (yet for that no less real).

To my mind, this approach packs more of a sociological punch, so to speak, than an approach that would focus on scientists’ motivations and on the subjective and intersubjective factors shaping those motivations. Why? First, because it’s more surprising and more adventurous: I mean, these people pushed sociological inquiry right into the heart of the most objective and apparently non-social procedures and practices we know! Second, because it is more specific to the topic we are dealing with. Sure, we can ask what motivates a scientist to pick a particular research topic… but how is this different from asking what motivates “anyone” to do “anything”? Would we simply end up with a sociological treatment of motivations and decisions in general? Then how is this “sociology of science?”

What do you think?

I swear

2010-02-12T15:36:00.000+08:00

that i didn’t mean to not find time to read the actual readings in time for discussion. It’s not easy dealing with the giants of our sociological past, one by one on a weekly basis. So I can only ask for forgiveness when I use non-module concepts to arrive at a new interpretation of the lecture. Hence before tomorrow’s lecture on actor-network theory starts and the lecture topic of the science lab gets cold, I thought the box would look good with my 2 cents in it. Oh and yes, this is a student-written rant, and has no link with the lecturer’s intentions.

To my wounded mind, one of the key take-aways was that those guys working in the laboratory could be re-interpreted as social agents – as opposed to being mere droids of the “objective” scientific paradigm. They do their thing in white coats and face gear – collecting data and “inscribing” stuff for their future analysis. What was of immense interest though, was the notion of these white-coaters not actually dealing with the natural world itself – they look at the natural phenomena, take many pictures and reconstruct things into an ideal-typical model in their very comfortable lab.

Notice any familiar term? Yes, I used the term “ideal-typical”. Which means Weber is now in the picture. Why bring him in? Because his idea of ideal-types is very helpful to the messy fray at hand. Where’s the mess? Look – while these “natural” scientists claim that their empirical snapshots are needle-point accurate, and from this claim therefore proceed with reconstructing that particular natural phenomena in their labs (as with our poor C57BL/6 lab mice), the lens and angles through which they take their snapshots are definitely their very own. Who defines what is to be studied? These so-called accurate reconstructions of natural phenomena – are they just ideal-types?

Dr Coopman’s argument (as derived from Lynch) was that the post-data collection, interpretative process – using human logic to link all the inscribed artifacts (did I get it right?) – is what gives the social flavour to the scientific process. By distinguishing what’s natural – from the artificial – can they arrive at a truth, and this very distinguishing is what’s social about the scientific process.

But what’s neglected here, is the pre-scientific process question: through what processes did these “natural” scientists themselves define the scientific problem? As much as you can argue that the formulation of the scientific problem has to go through some upper-echelon ethics committee to check for adherence to empirical rules in the natural sciences, the original decision – why the head scientist prefers one problem area over another – is most definitely a product of his/her subjectivity. Maybe s/he was more interested in researching hair growth due to personal insecurities. Maybe the market for hair products is booming and s/he wants to tap into the industry quick. Or maybe out of all the research proposals the head scientist sent to his superiors, only the hair one got approved – and thus the scientific problem is now birthed from the subjectivities of the bosses. The bottomline is, you see, we don’t know.

Go a step further: your subjective desires and interests is in a strong sense, derived from your social millieu. Because everyone who goes to the corporate networking parties you always attend are now jumping onto the hair-loss solutions bandwagon, you, as a boss feel that yeah, maybe that’s the way to go in your next quest for that new lamborghini gallardo. So, due to the life-world you’re in, you develop business interests which then define what’s most relevant for you – and then you commit yourself to rational action to bring thse interests into plans and into reality.

Yes, I have, in the same sneaky manner, sneaked in another social theorist in my previous paragraph. He’s none other Weber’s all-time fan, Schutz. Ok, maybe Schutz wasn’t totally Weber-lovin’. But what I described is probably how Schutz would describe it. Schutz is this really cool guy who conceptualizes rational human action as the result of socially-influenced individual interests determining what’s most relevant to the individual oneself. Because we are not living alone on an island, each of us forms an intersubjective world with other individuals which is termed the “life-world”. So we are influenced by this “life-world” as we influence it through our individual subjective interests.

Can you already see the rise of the subjective? For Schutz, the scientific-empirical process for social scientists involved replacing your own subjective interests with the formulated scientific problem -> and now with a scientific interest as your background you begin to explore only those things that are relevant to your scientific interest. It’s definitely the same for “natural” scientists as well, cos’ their research area will determine what aspects they look at and what they discard. But as I have expounded upon in the previous 3 painful paragraphs – what processes determine their scientific research problem is inherent from their subjectivity. We’ve got to recognize that the research problem does not come out of the objective world alone. It’s bizarre to think that Lady Gaia slipped into a science lab and wrote the research proposal for the scientists while they were having breakfast coffee.

The last lecture argued that scientific knowledge is a social construction. Yet I wasn’t really satisfied with the term “socio-technical” – it was basically dealing with the scientific process. Like, for me it doesn’t seem to account for how the “objective” truth of the natural sciences is really inseparable from the subjectivities of the scientists doing their work. To be fair, the model reconstruction of the natural phenomena they were studying is indeed objective, because everyone from the marketing department to the cleaning auntie to Barack Obama can look at this model. But the motivations behind the science is not at all objective. At best, it only makes sense to speak of the objective-subjective, or to steal from Schutz, the intersubjective. There is no pure, true objectivity in science, and anyone trying to impose that should have their motives analysed.

An attempt at making Sweet-Sour Pork

2010-01-17T12:20:00.001+08:00

Ok, who am I kidding. No way I could make sweet-sour pork. But I did come up (with some help of course) with what feels like pork pieces with pineapple + sweet n sour sauce. Quite unfortunate (or fortunate) that there're no first-hand tasting, but do look at the steps taken.

We used:

Pork pieces, marinated
Flour
1 can of Pineapple cubes, drained
Lee Kum Kee Sweet n Sour sauce
1 bulb of onion, sliced

Well, first thing we dusted the pork pieces with flour.... I probably left them there for around 10 minutes.

I used a normal pot for deep frying - oil just enough to cover the pork pieces. So into the pot to fry... Apparently I was told that there are three steps to controlling the fire:
1) lotsa fire to make fry it for... 5 minutes?
2) when it feels cooked, turn down the fire to minimum... to allow oil to seep into the meat...
3) then when it's cooked enough, max fire... to whack the oil out of the pork pieces.

I did so for the second round too, but the difference was that I shortened the time taken for the 1st firing. We basically had two different bowls when we done, each done with different sauces.

the first bowl felt a bit hard to chew, while the second one wasn't that bad. I was suspecting whether it was because I didn't use any egg-white in the dusting.

So when that was done, we prepared a new pot, oil just enough to cover the surface, and in the onions went... after a few minutes, then the pineapple cubes... then, the Lee Kum Kee sauce... Stir fry... then pour over the first bowl of fried pork pieces.

The second bowl we made our own sauce - same thing with the onions and pineapples, but before that we used ketchup sauce and hot water, like 2 parts ketchup to 1 part hot water. This we poured over the 2nd bowl.

Later we felt that the first bowl seemed a little dry... like the sauce wasn't seeping into the meat. So we tossed it into the pot to cook for 20 seconds... then brought it out. I put it in a tingkat container, closed the lid and shook it furiously :D

When it was time to eat, we realised that the 1st bowl was, while being the harder to chew, had more flavour. The 2nd one had quite a bit of gravy, and primarily because of the way I fried it, and also of the ketchup sauce we used, the tanginess was stronger. But under both counts could we not taste any hint of onion.

We cooked a bit of vege to complete the dinner meal and served. Simple fare, but I thought it could have been done better.

Any thoughts? And yes, I did photoshop the picture.

HOKKIEN SONG FTW

2010-01-15T15:03:00.001+08:00

This pretty much takes the cake. Profuse sorries to those offended.

Today

2010-01-08T11:44:00.010+08:00

.

we look at just some of the numerous comments posted in response to my blog posts. I've decided to take just a small snippet of the entire population of comments so as to give a quick and convenient, and very representative look on what people actually think about my posts.

I'm really heartened to see that over the past few months, I've received close to a hundred comments to my blog posts. This is proof that out there, my blog is gaining popularity amongst netizens and blogcrawlers alike. If this goes well, I might be able to push forth with putting my own handsome photos and aesthetic contributions on this very blog, so as to share with all my loyal readers as well as carve a niche for myself.

When I started this blog, there wasn't the intention to acheive fame, or popularity, or notoriety or whatever recognition for my immense talents. I just wanted a space for me to express my thoughts, my ideas, my quirks, and sometime along people started reading my blog, friends and non-friends alike. It has been hard to go from as little as 2 comments over 3 years to the whopping 100++ comments on my blog on such a regular basis, and I think finally I'm being heard by a wider audience. To be this-honest I actually feel lighter, happier, more self-assured, confident that I can take on anything in the world, and maybe even capable of wooing one or two girls I happen to chance upon.

Ah I guess I shouldn't be taking up too much time detailing my innermost thoughts. Without doubt, these comments really prove that my blog is finally getting read by a wider audience. And that is something that makes me proud, of myself, my talents, my quirks, everything about me that is invested in this blog, and of course, you, my loyal reader. I thank you for sticking it out with me for the past 3 years, on this anniversary of my blog.

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I feel so sorry for myself.

There's something sinister

2010-01-01T02:03:00.002+08:00

about this particular year end season for 2009. Somehow, people are starting to draw up lines demarcating their own personal space too clearly which results in incompatible desires and the reduced will to compromise, leading to lots of relations breakdowns.

It's really terrifying to think that, with all our free will and dynamic nature, large swathes of us can be silently but surely coaxed into becoming more assertive of our personality and less tolerant of others - and actually finding very very good philosophical reasons for being like that. It seems that with a flick of the weather we could all be induced into doing lots of strongarmed stuff without much thought to sensitivity and tact.

In drawing clear lines to mark your own personal space as a product of your inner strength and personality, you unwittingly become exactly similar to those who made you angry and bitter in the first place. Because what they did was to also define which groups of people they wish to hold on to ultimately - and maybe you didn't happen to fall into this circle. And so what you do is to create your own circle with multiple safeguards to prevent anyone, anyone on the face of this world, to take these new relationships you've found away from you - a form of jealous guarding of your own security blanket you'd be so nakedly bare without.

Because of this sinister turn of events, many people are going to feel lonely and left behind, not because they're not exciting people, but because they don't think it's right to actually deadlock people to yourself just for your own selfish personal preservation.

Just like how the Christmas season so becomes.

Soup

2009-12-28T01:54:00.003+08:00

I'm souped to really get down to doing the stuff that I want to do:

-- Learning how to make chicken stew + dinner
-- Dealing with Syinconnect stuffs
-- Actually practising what my teacher taught on guitar
-- Going out and have fun.

I couldn't really blame the guys who put me into 14 days. I needed it. The experience was far from primary but the money was the key. How else do you think I was able to get the Zoom H4N so soon? And that Duncan Distortion? I love my guitar even more now by the way.

I wonder how next year's going to be like. Not going to be easy. It gets harder one sem after the other. Doesn't help that ppl are trying to outsource and avoid dealing with you. Hmmph.

Oh yes, my hard disk fabulously crashed on me - thus as of now I no longer have my extensively-stale collection of music in my possession. It's interesting how something as semi-tangible as music can be rendered non-existent with just a press of a button. Can you imagine how it'll be like if someone pressed a button and your hair just disappeared?

I'll need all the resources I can get to get back my music collection. Chang?

I'd like to have some campbell's soup right now. With peanut butter bread. Maybe with some chwee kueh. I think it'll work.

The Fall of Troy - Straight Jacket Keelhauled (live 2008)

2009-11-28T13:21:00.001+08:00

Contrary to what spammers and pornbots say on my website, this blog is not dead. It's just in hibernation. Today I happen to accidentally dig my toes into its soft belly and it's woken up to growl at me. Naughty dog.

Exams 3/5 down. Can't wait for life-course and human rights to be here and over with. Thereafter, I can bring my brother out and have some fun.

Ok that sounded very wrong. I mean my good brother, in all flesh and hair. Ok even wrong. I mean my good brother, in all excitement and boredom at the same time. Oh my god this is not going where I want it to. I mean my brother, Dick.

WAT THE HELL!!!!!!!!

I mean, my kin. My brother who's the other son birthed of my mother and my father. Yes. He's excited because Big exams are over for him. And he's bored cos I can't bring him out to play yet.

Been enamoured with scale patterns and the acoustic lately. I realised you could actually not know any single 7th chord and still play like a freakin' pro. All you need to know is your entire scale pattern, start on the low string anywhere in the scale, and play a corresponding string of notes/melody on the first few strings. You can become Tommy Emmanuel without having to have a teacher! Somewhat.

Been tussling over getting a pickup upgrade Vs. getting a new pedal. I love my current drive, tone really rocks, and with the equalizer it's just-so-boomz. Wow boomz. But there doesn't seem to be enough grit, my chords doesn't sound clear enough on full distortion, and shit happens when I twist the volume knob. Poor Judy is falling apart!! Ok maybe all we need is a pickup upgrade. Then I'll save my money for the Zoom H4N to record our demos and save on millions of jamming money.

And also invest in some clothes, food, and most importantly, with really important people. I wonder. You never know what she's thinking. Friend or foe? Acquaintance or something else? I don't know, and maybe I don't care. I'm enjoying time spent like that as it is.

I wonder if I'll be able to come up with new material with the band soon. Phaedre, I really want to finish the second song - and write a third one. Then we can thup 2 more covers, and we can go whack the stage already. Wow.

Damn, with so many things in mind, I've become something close to a scheming planner and then a mechanical automaton that carries out these plans with clinical precision. Yeah soon I might need to go to the clinic to ask for sleeping pills. Can't sleep well man. And yes I've got to see the dentist to fix my bleeding gums. With bleeding gums you find that your health becomes seriously compromised in some positions. Not that I know what these positions are.

I've got many interesting dreams lately. What have I been dreaming? I dreamt I saw a lecturer making out with a secondary school girl outside my secondary school staff room. Another one I saw someone peeing into the swimming pool of some really high class hotel. I know Phaedre's got some really weird dreams but it doesn't beat mine. The nightmares of a creative mind.

And The Fall of Troy has got another NEW ALBUM!!! Sounds pretty much like Manipulator!!! And that's really Boring!!!

Sigh. What happened to the chicken squawks.

The Fall of Troy - I Just Got This Symphony Goin' Live

2009-09-20T13:00:00.001+08:00

Just totally what I mean.

Oh Gosh.

Inspiration must come after despair

2009-09-15T15:09:00.001+08:00

It's an issue, always an issue - how do you run a three-people band?

One bassist, One Drummer, One guitarist.

Someone has to sing!

I've come to the level when I can sing to simple syncopated rhythms. Like let the chord ring and you sing over it. It's the easiest way to sing, play, and dance at the same time.

I thought I was getting somewhere lah, and yes I'm getting somewhere, if not for the 7th month processions going on. Readings and projects automatically fill that void, if not for a fervent desire against symbolic violence against children. It's largely their fault that children all across the world do not have very bright futures, and they deserve the upheavals against child labour. Unfortunately no one mainstream enough seems to understand that it's really their politicians' fault that there's so much sand and grime in our children's lives.

Heck, even the term "Child" is a intrinsically violent term lah. Who is a child? Who is not? If I label people from other countries as "Others", can I avoid calling them "Children"? That way I do not have to extend the children rights in my country to your country.

Sometimes common sense is not enough. If you're advocating/campaigning/mobilizing a cause, and if you're using the tired rhetorics that the bigger, 'global' NGOs are using, and you seem to feel like you're doing the world a whole lotta good, then chances are you're doing negative stuff man. The need to inculcate personal habits of critical thinking and deep reflexive rationalization of your cause, WHY you are fighting it, and the reasons you give - are they sound? Read up more, incorporate a wide base of diverse opinions on the matter. Don't get bought into some flimsy pamphlet printed on 'green' paper. It's your responsibility to reflect on what kind of social change you want to see - and to do that you need to expose yourself to wide range of diverse, sometimes even opposing views. I personally believe in the dialectic practice, clash two opposites together you know, and the end result is something much stabler than what you had previously.

That's why I find it imperative that in this period of my life, I listen to radically-different music that is at once quirky, progressive, sometimes very funny too, and all capable to cover at least 2 or 3 of human emotions. I'm listening to The Fall of Troy now, and damn.... I've never come across anything so smooth yet so radically-prog. Here's a video, but you know you can always listen in the player at the side, provided they dun give you a stupid 30 seconds preview.

I mean, how in civil music society does the bugger do it?? Sing and play such complex lines like nobody's business. If you can teach me how to do it I don't mind being your sociology tutor for the next 2 sems.

I feel I've fallen to the deepest darkest despair after looking at the trio play. Three-people band leh!!! And it's not like Breaking Benjamin the kind of ring-the-chord-and-sing-over kind leh. Wah lao.

On a lighter note, there can only be Inspiration after despair. This promises to be the next level I'm getting to.

What would you fight for?

2009-09-07T17:32:00.002+08:00

Our lecturer asked us whether we felt Singaporean today. And if you did, what was it that made you feel Singaporean? A slight paraphrase later the question became, what would you fight for?

To me, the answer is as clear as daylight. Thou shalt fight for your country simply for the Singaporean girls here.

Not just any girls. Singaporean girls.

They're worth fighting for.

2009-08-15T00:50:00.001+08:00

I went to Borders today.

Zooming through black concrete and finally stopping after a flurry of moving tv screens, I moved out of the train and into the underpass. Amidst gaudy flashing images that threatened to make one feel inadequate and pseudo-human cultural samples that promised a commercially better identity, I climbed the escalators one, two and three before catching the faintest smell of paperback through the chilly aircon. Raindrops stippling down the cone.

Boy was the place big. Been years since I last went. "The Shock Doctrine" - a book I've been reminding myself to get. Check. A little further down I saw Iris Murdoch's The Sea, The Sea. A bit too long. No idea who that is too. Down the shelf came Toni's Sula. Now that's a favourite! The Bluest Eye. Paradise. Make a mental note. Dragging my feet around the next shelf. Jiang Rong's The Wolf Totem. Reminds me of Gao's Soul Mountain. Hide one copy in the gaps of the topmost corner.

The Devil wears Prada? Eew. What's all these Chinese writers using sex to sell their book? And science fiction is not Star Wars. What happened to Ray Bradbury? What's with The Unofficial Biography of Obama appearing in the social science section. Whatz.

Milton's Paradise Lost. I start wondering why I keep walking around in circles and not choosing anything. My hands slide in and out crevices between the plastic covers, gasping for air and hurting at the nail folds. My right foot starts aching in the arch and I start to limp. My back feels numb from the squatting I've been doing. Then I realised why I had been so troublesome. Perhaps I wasn't looking for a really interesting setting. Or a twisted plot. Or even Naipaul's House for Biswas. I knew then, that I must be desperately searching for time.

Sigh. The magazines seem much more appealing. Short reads, easy digestion, captivating images. Ooh there's Top Gear Singapore now. Torque... Guitarist magazine. Ah. Kerrang. The truth behind Michael Jackson's death. Hmm.

Time to go! Bassist is waiting at Dhoby Ghaut. Oh Aravind Adiga's White Tiger. Hmm.... maybe next time. Perhaps next time, these books wouldn't look like white elephants anymore.

2009-08-08T15:59:00.000+08:00

Eh, here's an update.

But I've got nothing to say.

But I want to complain. Complain about the swimming pool I frequent. In mock complaining style often used by bitchy girls and disgusting guys. I think it'll be fun pretending to be someone else for a while.

- I seriously DON'T KNOW WHAT THE FRIKKIN' HELL the people at my swimming pool near my house are doing. It's so damn old, you can just smell the shit's that been piling up in there. And the lockers too, it's so difficult to use, I don't see how ANYBODY can actually learn to use it within 3 seconds flat. I think I'm about the only one smart enough to understand it lah.

And the changing rooms, it's like OMG FRIKKIN' iikky!!! Like, the floor tiles are like, yellow?? And everything is like, so open, there's no privacy! Sure, you can go into the cubicles and change, but when you step in it's so EEEEWWWW inside!! Like, strands of hair clumped together to form a ball, plasters swimming around, and in the drain, you see what resembles like a dead rat with some sharp pointy tail at the end. EEEWWWWWW!!!!

I really can't stand the pool also! Why can't these people, who are living off our taxpayers' money, seek to renovate the stupid place?? The pool is like, contaminated with all these plasters flying around in the water lah. Like seriously, so many people cut the fingers in one day? Or is it accumulated over ONE FREAKIN' YEAR???

There are like, so many old uncles and aunties swimming around in the pool everytime I go lah. Like, so old already still want to swim meh? Can they just swim somewhere else? And also, there are always SOOOOO MANY PRC nationals swimming in the pool almost EVERYDAY. And they just stand near the side of the pool and make so much noise. And you know what's the best part? Some of them can't swim!!! Like wat??

Then on alternate days there's this woman who swims in the evening. She has to swim in that butterfly style all the time lah. I tell you, there's nothing graceful about "Butterfly Style" The woman just practically splashes water on EVERY SINGLE DARN LIVING THING in the pool. Talk about social consciousness!

Can't stand all these people lah. Only know how to spoil my day. I feel like I no longer have any space or privacy in this world lah. Sometimes I feel so depressed that there are so many stupid people around me. Haaaaaaiiiiizzzz. -

On a side note, I think there has to be some mechanism for people to express disgust and nausea in a funny and entertaining way that is socially acceptable. Can you imagine bitching about something in a deadpan manner? Might be possible. But then again, it really depends who you are with. Can't complain like that to your favourite girl eh?

things I'm really proud of

2009-07-04T22:02:00.010+08:00

and of course things that I'm not really pleased about.

It strays far from what you think you should be, what you want yourself to be, when your demeanour is taken over by your overwhelming individuality such that you become stuck in yourself for a while.

Then you do things that aren't really cool.

So you should take frequent times to meditate, set yourself in a state of stasis, and just let the warm aura shroud over your body and being, calibrating your image and your form with a balance found in your innermost being.

I need to affirm my being again. Away from over-individualistic properties.

Thus, I have taken up swimming.

It's about the next thing I'm really proud of after the guitar.

No fixed teachers, no instructors to guide-you-as-you-progress. No. All learnt from observation, reasoning, intellect and many youtube videos.

After around 14 years of learning how to swim, I finally learnt how to swim 1 fortnight ago.

It's really something I'm proud of.

At first you can't just take your eyes away from the numerous bikini swimmers in the pool next to you, coming towards you, behind you, at the far end of the pool, at the audience seats. Then you suddenly realise that the pool is also filled with over 5 groups of 8 kids each, already moving like fish inside water despite being 1/3 of the height of the pool. When the instructor gives the command, suddenly the horizontal traffic starts and a school of mobile young tots forms a barricade between you and the really sexy girl at the opposite end of the pool.

The entire swimming session becomes fruitless instantly. With so many kids swimming around and diving around and also adults swimming butterfly style making fountains out of the water beside your face, you really wonder if all this is a cruel joke set on you to drag your animalistic impulses. Grrrrrauww.

Which brings me to my solution. Change my idea of what swimming sessions are about. Because it is a time when you commune with an aspect of nature other than air, never-mind the chlorinated garnishing, it is the perfect time to also commune with your soul and being. Once you recognise how wonderful the water is for spiritual realignment and meditation, you will never see the swimming pool near your house in the same way again.

It's about the best thing you can do in the pool. Let the ephemeral images of sexy women and pretty PRC babes pass you by, like a fleeting existence that will eventually slip away from your mind. Beauty is not found in looking at bikinis and swimsuits and butterfly-style swimming patterns. It is found in the frogstyle swimming technique, when you seem to be working a heck lot outta your muscles and joints but nevertheless only move an inch a time. Isn't that amazing?

I was told sometime back, that the vocalist for the grindcore band Napalm Death was seen running on a treadmill in a gym in KL and going, "Rrroooooooorrrrrrrrrrr. Rrroooooooooor. hnnnnngg - Rrroooooooooooooooooooooorrrrr."

I was tempted to try my swimming-zen version of vocal training. So balancing myself on my feet, I dived into the swimming pool, and Rrroored.

I choked.

I'm about the last person to understand this concept

2009-06-22T17:38:00.002+08:00

http://www.intology.com/business-finance/how-economic-bubble-builds-up/

Updates

2009-06-11T21:32:00.003+08:00

Am doing calligraphy again.

It's a good way to ensure you dun go berserk when you can't play the guitar nor use the comp for too long because of your left wrist.

Because I am right-handed, it's cool.

I've made significant progress: I can do 'heng', 'shu', and the 'dian' on the top of certain worrds like "千".

Check out Chang's latest song on his blog, the one with "the machine". I really think it's a sign of old age, cos apparently my guitar teacher who's 31 years old, also likes to do this kind of songs, aka Mandopop style. But of course, my guitar teacher is more zai lah. More tricks up his sleeve.

I on the other hand, am entering the "music that doesn't bore me is good music" stage. And also at the "there are so little songs that actually excite me anymore" stage. I wonder if my own songs will turn out to be boring songs themselves? I think that'll have to rely on Shan and future other members.

Calligraphy is wonderful. It calms the mind.

Oh I think the first thing I'm going to do after my wrist heals is to pick up the acoustic and learn some Bob Dylan songs. Chords might be simple but it's all in the lyrics. Maybe I'll pick up one thing or two.

I need to write some lyrics too. Cos I figure if I dun then I can't attract drummers. I also need a advertisment-template maker to post on soft. Shan!!!

Prison Break is wonderfully exciting.

Does anyone know what Accountancy entails?

I need to practise with Shan.

2009-06-10T01:17:00.001+08:00

This one is pretty simple. Name 15 (or so) books that have been important to you in your life. Don't take too long to think about it. Tag some of your friends, if you feel like it. If I'm tagging you, of course it's because I want to see your book list!

[Tagged by Kevin. For the sake of understanding I've included short reasons to why these books I deem important to me. If I tagged you it means that you should probably think about this too. Good reflection.]

1. Enid Blyton's story collections
This is way back in my childhood but these were the very books that got me into reading in the first place. And early moral convictions too, cos Enid Blyton had many moral "case studies".

2. Sherlock Holmes detective stories (Sir Arthur Conan Doyle)
This introduction of books was probably wat sparked my mode of thinking and got me into the whole British literature thing. Also was the collection that found me some common friends

3. The Lord of the... Flies (William A. Golding)
My very first, serious literature text. This has got to be one of the most important books in my life because it exposed me to issues of human nature, the question of society in life, developed in me a hunger for more literary works and burned my innocent being.

4. The Da Vinci Code (Dan Brown)
Important not because it was a bestseller nor due to its content but because it led me to find out more these claims to Christianity and religion. Could have been the book that sparked my religious orientation

5. NKJV The Holy Bible
Naturally the next relevant book would be the Holy Bible itself. Was my reading companion during my lazy NS days. Was the book that set me thinking about God and others. Was the book which after reading I made myself a religious 'deviant'. My religious views are wholly mine and mine alone.

6. Brave New World (Aldous Huxley)
I didn't realise it then, but on re-visiting it recently this book stand a very very high chance of being the book that sowed the seeds of interest I now have for Sociology, as well as my hardened views on character types and material consumption. The utopia that the protagonists live in disgusts us and looks more like dystopia to us, even if the daily-desired material wants in society today are all catered for in the book. Scintillating and so relevant to our lives even after 7 decades.

7. Sociology: The Compass for our new world
Enough Said

8. Tonnes of journal articles
Enough said

addendum

9. Fahrenheit 451 (Ray Bradbury)
I can't believe I didn't include this book in list previously. Ray Bradbury has got to be one of the writers with the most influential works on me. This book I picked up when I was in Secondary 3-4, and the dystopia inside probably was a precursor to my interest in Brave New World.

I can't say how much the idea of dystopia - or simply the idea that a lot of things are warped and wrong in the world today - has planted my thought bearings and my life-world perspectives (did I use it right?). It sounds scary but I have formed my own notion of dystopia - and the elements are all right in the world that I, and maybe you live in.

Am still thinking for more books.

2009-06-08T21:22:00.000+08:00

Disappointment and Anger do not mix well

First

2009-06-08T11:29:00.001+08:00

slight sore wrist, then numbness in pinky and hands, now complete quarter-blown pain. I think it's confirm carpal tunnel.

Cheebs.

This is the result of practising running scales backwards for 1 week straight. Fucking heck. Was it too fast that I nailed my legato techniques? Now I'm set back by 1 or 2 freakin weeks.

Da fudge.

Grrrrrrr. Going to UHWC later.

Please take care of your digits n wrists.

Damn depressed now.

Ok la not that bad. There's always the PS2.

Zum zum zum Zum Zum tZuum Zum Zum Zum

2009-06-04T17:06:00.002+08:00

It's a new radical way of transcribing guitar riffs. Because when it comes to death metal most of the time they open palm mute is -always- used it is only wise to leave out what note is being palm muted. Instead, we focus on the rhythmic beat that is being given here, and by giving a generic name to the palm mute, and by using the same phonetic consonants we have for pronoucing languages to articulate the rhythmic nuances that appear in a guitar riff, we pretty much eliminate the need to have to write in standard music notation.

I'm good eh?

I realise that the Hangman on this blog is addictive to my 10 billion readers-population. I think that's a wonderful thing, and I shall be putting up more games for your entertainment.

I realise exchange is an unstable see-saw: your life can go either side, for or against your intentions, but nonetheless does little to provoke a large scale war with your current circumstances. I wonder if exchange is really more fun than a 3 month holiday. Then again, heh heh.

Saturday's the second jam since new band. I wonder what we are going to do. Me wondering is a bad sign.

I am indeed wondering if I can bring anyone to Blujaz tml for Synq's event. Syahms would be playing. I wonder. That guy has more positive energy in him that Comte does in his positivism, and much much more than the optimism we all have for the economic recession. I really cannot fathom the extent of this person's positive psyche. He's a great guy. Nope, nothing wrong with a bit more positivity than normal. Just that I'm much more negative than positive. Hmmmm.

If Chang happens to have more positive energy than negative, I wonder how he might turn out? For all you know, neo-Chang would be the energetic, can-do-no-problem guy, sunshine-bright person everyone can turn to.

"Ah johnson... dun be so emo!! Life is full of bright colours and bursting with opportunities all around! You can do it man! If we put our minds to it, we can surely see it! Your future girlfriend that is!"

"Hey my beloved and dearest honey spoons! Come check out my new song entitled, Sunshine You're my Lover on Soundclick! I wrote it specially for all my friends and family to tell them to continue pursuing their dreams! You should too!"

"Dear blog, when I first started out playing guitar, I was lost and confused and didn't know what to do. Then I saw this really wonderful person called Beez, and we had a very good time playing guitar together and talking about our dreams... All the good times... I want to write a song to commemorate the good old times! Who'd have thought that I'm managed to come to this level of guitaring today! I'm truly proud of myself!"

Lyrics to Sunshine You're my Lover
You and me, meant to be
together forever never leave
Strawberry shortcake and pineapple tarts
I'm your flour and you're my egg

Oh~~ Baby Honey, don't you know by now?
you're my, my Baby Honey-
B-baby, Baby H-honey
you're my, my one and only
Dun you, ever ever doubt me

I wonder. Really.

Twitter Expanded.

2009-05-31T00:49:00.002+08:00

I do not have access to my computer because it has surely hung on me.

It doesn't help that Acer's technical helpdesk is not very forthcoming.

I'm using my brother's computer thus for a very short while.

Weather is damn friking hot. It's not that hot to require the use of straight up expletives but yeah, all the same it's bad.

It's also the best situation to fall sick. Kevin, Pam, and some others have tasted it first hand. Take care guys and girls.

U can't go wrong with fruit juice. It's about the best thing to health.

Weekdays are horrendously boring.

Was to meet with ww and shawn but had something at the last moment. And was not counting that ww had to wake early too.

Can we meet on a sunday instead then? OR Friday night? I think Friday night is best cos Saturday no one has to go to work or school.

As you can tell I have nothing much to write. This is my version of twitter. Expanded.

I'll be reckless this time

2009-05-25T14:10:00.003+08:00

Yes Phaedre I can't wait to jam again.

---

I'm just wondering how am I going to tell Jh that I'm seeking to change direction. My own direction. I'm leaving Car burns Friday behind because it's really bad luck. And I really want to do something that is closer to what I like.

I wonder if he minds if I find another guitarist. I would like Jh to stay the way he is, cos he's just amazing - but all the same i want to open my mind and engage in experimentation. Something beyond the comfort zones. And I've found just the drummer and bassist to do it.

What I need then is another guitarist who is on the same wavelength as me. I can't say that Jh and I are really on the same tracks, and though I think he's a blast, I can't seem to reach out to him. Music to me is about getting someone excited through beats vibes and sounds, and I dun seem to be able to excite him more than Jimi Hendrix does.

I really think that his other band really defines him. Single guitar, all the funk and beats, lots of space, I think he really enjioys himself with the other band. I cannot say the same for this one.

So, I'm being reckless here by posting my thoughts on this blog that millions of readers frequent, because I Don't Know how to explain things to him. Maybe someone will read this and direct him to this post, and he wouldn't be angry or anything. I really, really want to break free from my drudgery and try something new, something that excites me. If I've got to hurt a few people I am sorry, but that has to be done.

I'm disbanding Car Burns Friday, and am taking the bassist away with me to form a new band. May we have a new beginning and fresh experiences.

2009-05-20T21:01:00.005+08:00

I just had a mug of the best, wholesomely thick bittergourd soup that money cannot buy.

When poured from the pot into the mug one can only faintly smell the hint of familiar herbs. Stirring a little, the steam uncovers a bit more of the contents of the soup.

And when I introduce it to my lips, there is all of that wholesome thickness of bak kut that fills your taste buds. Gently, as the soup slides past my tongue and into my throat, the inevitable bitter quality rolls onto the sides and back of your tongue, and the bittergourd seeks to cleanse your tongue of any traces of salty potato chips or sweet chocolate stains that you so engagingly gobbled one day ago.

Compared to eating, drinking is a refined act of elegance and good-mannered social posture. And what you introduce to your lips is a reflection of your being.

Money cannot buy that bittergourd soup because it simply cannot replicate the feelings and love of my mother who took pains to make the soup. Using yang sheng herbs she arrested the stark bitterness of the bittergourd fruit so that it would only come in ebbs and flows, as opposed to a raging washing flood.

Words cannot say how much weight my mum was on my life.

A pillar of inner strength and iron will, she shielded me from life's flagrant attempts to numbify and break down an innocent young soul. Always the stalwart, she took by the horns the challenges to my soul and obstacles to my being. Always the silent supporter, standing two steps behind me.

The same person who also damned me into eternal social awkwardness and impasse, never to be part of any social circle, and to always be mindful of my lingering solace in individuality and deep analytic thought. Unable to fully participate in the highly-complex and many-multi-level-symbolic game that peers engage, inside out, prior to their impending march into the cogs of social machinery and office drudgery.

I am not in self-pity. No, for there's no objectively written rule that says that not being normal is abnormal. Huxley quotes Fromm, where he points out that in a rationalised system of impossible ideology and unfulfilable social standards and immensely irrational expectations on the individual , the person who appears most normal is in fact, the most abnormal. Cos the system is not natural at all.

Some people suggest that I break away from my mum's influence. You've got to be more you, you know. More like the you that is supposed to look like everybody else who's your age. Well, which parts of me are my mother's?

Why do I respect my mum? I think we have to go beyond the usual Confucian fillial piety rhetoric and all. When you enter into relations with a person, you either like or dun like the person. Simple as that. If you like the person, you respect and treat him/her well. If you don't, well there's always the due respect that he/she is entitled to.

And I enjoy my time with mum. I do even today. She's a hard-bitten woman with a list of wisecracks that Homer cannot fathom. When I play too much guitar and wear black clothes she hides them and expects me to find it myself. And then there's that wonderful bittergourd soup that she makes.

I think few relate to my mum as well as I do. That's a fact.

Love your mothers.

I Am Emo. Yes.

2009-05-11T22:05:00.002+08:00

It's been a while since anyone looked straight into my heart and really understood.

It isn't everyday that you get people who see right through you, and know the world of pain and agony that you're going through inside.

I marvel at these people who are able to see beyond this facade that I put up, day in and day out, just to conceal the tumultuous experiences I go through in my days.

I don't know why - everytime I try to open up and let something in, I always feel that feeling of caution. I do not want to be hurt again. Cos when it hurts, it hurts really badly and I don't want the pain to interfere with my daily proceedings.

I want to open up. And I force myself to. Because opening up and letting things in is supposed to be good for me. But everytime I do so there is a high chance of me getting hurt, at the sides.

When I get hurt, pain comes - then I feel anger. Anger swells in me everytime it hurts when I open up and let things in. Anger against the pain. Anger that the stupid wound is not healing.

When you let something in something's got to let that something in. The spoon that you use to let food in can hurt you too. I've learnt that when it hurts, that I should never, ever, let too many things in. They hurt more and aggravate my feelings even more.

Lately I have a discovery. It seems the act of opening up, wide, makes my wound even more vulnerable to the air around. You never know when there are critters hiding around waiting to rub onto your wound. It's like a reflex thing - your body hurts you to let you know that you're too open to the outside.

I've tried many ways to stop the pain and heal the wound. I've tried everything from salt solution to mouth gargle to bonjella cream to eating more fruits and drinking more water, to not taking in big-sizes of food pieces and cut down on sweets. Some work, some don't at all.

One thing's for certain though. When a pain like the pain of a mouth ulcer kills your emotions and makes you angry all the time, as with previous mouth ulcer experiences, time is the only platform that allows your mouth to heal itself. Meanwhile, you'd only do well to cover that ulcer well!

jsut a figment of my imagination

2009-05-07T23:03:00.000+08:00

2009-05-01T01:57:00.003+08:00

I can't help it if this blog post has no point.

Bounce! has been on my mind for sometime. Yes, Bounce and timing. Even if just playing simple chords, i want to have that bouncy quality in my playing. It's going to be fun to have that.

Can't find anything else to talk about.

2nd last exam was over yday. I have 4 days before the next.

I have no idea what to do for the holidays. Don't want to turn it into another slacking 3 months. last 3 months was really shit. Tch.

I'm going to think about stuff. probably. But then again i've always been thinking abt stuff all my life.

i'll try to learn palm reading. I'll probably get that elusive bounce once more.

But really, I just want transcendence.

commentus Regurgitation

2009-04-19T23:31:00.002+08:00

Exams are coming - that's an understatement.

There's a risk that I might be going through burnout, thanks to the intense long nights for the last JS essay. For 30%, and with so many restrictions, as well as the promise of a strict marker, I wonder if my brainfuck was even helpful.

It doesn't help that Durkheim is another brainfuck too. That guy starts with a long line showing his argument, then in the next line he will include a disclaimer line, like "That is not to say that we are assuming that..." It seems like half the time he's trying to frikkin' cover his ass first, Before making his point. Like frikkin' lay down your argument first lah.

That said, he's dead, long long ago. I can't help but think how he would see the world today. His theories are just so phenomenal, I think he'll get a heart attack from seeing our world today. At least Marx will say something like, "100 years and still not in Utopia yet??" and Weber probably "Nothing has changed since I left... everything is the same!"

Shrugs.

I guess I want to apologize to Chang for being emo the other day. But it seems to me that people with the same emotional configuration will say things like, "... but I wouldn't give this song a second listen". Emotional states meaning their ways of carrying themselves, reacting to the world, their psychological makeup, as much as the term itself means! Cos there was someone who said the same thing before... and he is those quite stable, strong inwardly, confident and "planner" kind. Meaning a very zai personality, difficult to sway emotionally.

These people, I realise, tend to require less "support" from music in terms of stabilizing emotions. Some people identify their emotions with certain songs and music genres to kinda affirm their own personality and all. Like how angsty kids might identify with emo or death core music. Or how u feel that a band captures your spiritual state and all that. These confident and internally strong people seem to be able to renew themselves from within, or from some other source, like maybe their friends, church, lovers, their place in society, etc.

I think there are different things people get out of music, jus that what they get out of music reflects their personality too. That's all.

I jsut changed back to 011s. the feeling and sound of Curt Mangan's is really different now comparing with my previous set. It's more... raw and steel-like, quite mechanical. I really really love Dunlop strings actually. But what to do, can't find Dunlop 011s. IMO they sound best.

And Curt Mangan is not totally breakage free lah. I just broke the second string 2 days after installing it. I think i gotta have to really find a pick that'll allow me to whack as I do and still save my strings.

Tch.

Today's really not a study day.

For some reason, I really want to break out.

I'm dark and brooding, I have issues....

2009-04-13T22:57:00.003+08:00

Remove

Johnny Mess Heh heh heh.

Johnny took the What's your Key Signature? quiz and the result is B Minor (Bm)

The rebel of all key signatures. B Minors are melancholic and dark like E Majors, but they turn this trait inwards and expresses this through violence and deviance. B minors are the most in-touch with reality of all key signatures, which is probably why they see the shit in this world more clearly than any other key signatures. They are the face of rock, metal, grunge, and (eww) emo bands, as well as troubled poets and other artists everywhere. Because of their dark and somewhat violent nature, B Minors are usually misunderstood and have few, if any friends. Healthier and more stable B Minors can resemble E Majors, which are also their closest friends. B Minors can help A Majors snap out of their delusions. B Minors should learn to lighten up and not keep themselves in the dark.

We're Recruiting!!!!

2009-04-11T01:05:00.001+08:00

If you're a drummer, don't tell me about structure and all that shit

cos' music is so drab. Every damn thing sounds the damn same. Everything must have a A B A B C B B structure and chord progressions are always the same they never freakin' use anything out of the major/minor modes. Everything must be made in accordance to what is the surest way to make money - structure and same old canon in d and happy songs and other stuff.

If you're a drummer, you'd better be jaded with the music that's going on today. Indie's dead; indie ghosts have no where to go. I want to create a grand big house for them to rock all day and night, complete with a full museum for them to wreck.

I want to house The Indie Ghost. I want to transcend all notions of music. I need a drummer who can deconstruct all structures of music and realise that we need fresh ideas and music.

For starters, be super in your timing. For second, be jaded. For third, be friendly.

Let's do hard-indie-rock-dance with a flash of funk and metal.

2009-04-09T20:42:00.005+08:00

Through my many years of getting burnt by the soldering iron, I've realised that the soldering process of earphones is fraught with a pertinent issue: if u're not good enough, the heat from the soldering iron is going to demagnetize the neodymium in the earphones and the sound quality will then suffer, which includes loss of bass, volume, and power.

And I'm not good enough. I believe that purchase of electronics and peripherals are concrete affairs that involve moving a clear identifiable mass from the stores into your house-your room, and thus should be abstained from generally to prevent piling and excess

but it's not serving me well. When earphones get whacked like the way mine do, you really have no idea how to not engage in material consumption.

Doesn't help that Kevin's excited me when he talks about his new earphones. Its bass response is apparently so good that Kevin's so wowed over it. Riffs suddenly become crystal clear, and basslines appear to have been given a silver tinkling.

I tried to do the same earlier, you know, get a pair of new earphones. But I realise while in the massive shopping mall I have begun traversing two different and very conflicting worlds: the world of frugality steeped in anti-mindless-material-consumerism, and the world of physical and spiritual pleasure.

I don't invest much into my body, I don't go gym, I don't swim (I can't swim), don't go to spa, don't suntan, the only things I do that are pleasurable to my body is limited scopophilia the pleasure in the gaze on monitor screens, the simple food and tea my lips smack, also I ________.

But really, the largest part of bodily pleasure really rests on aural pleasure. I really, really, really get excited listening to music. It fills me like nobody's business. Then when a song hits you drums, the spiritual connecteth - and like Mr Sim Wong Hoo would have it,

"AURVANA!!"

If you can anticipate my direction you should know that I have a conflicted personality. I'm so stingy when it comes to buying stuff that second-best doesn't even get acquired, it's usually the 10th-best or even 50th-best that gets bought.

So I usually "lower" my expectations n try to "get used to it" this pair of crappy earphones that lets all the pneumatic noise in the whole wide-very-big agglomeration of beds get into my ears. In simpler terms, I buy lousy shit, I compromise with lousy shit.

But honestly, I'm tired of compromising. Really don't want to compromise anymore. Cos when it comes to the aural, my ears have become so sensitive that it needs the best treatment. Think of it as a side-effect of being a budding musician.

So, the point is, if you drink beer with me regularly or if you see me in the corridors and wave to me and/or if you are a good friend of mine or, shamelessly, if you are interested in me

you'd better learn how much I need a good pair of earphones, pronto X 2.

cos it's probably about the first thing in the world that's going to keep me in balance and on rhythm.

Interestees please ask me for my birthdate.

2009-03-26T18:48:00.001+08:00

I realise

that if I do not make clear what the hell I was doing for the first song for Open House performance with Car Burns Friday,

I might not be able to sleep well.

The answer is in the latest song uploaded on the blog. go figure. Phaedre!!! Junhong!!!

Thomas?

If

2009-03-17T14:34:00.002+08:00

the significance of me studying

is to become closer to myself

then

is it alright if I just

ignore your markers of ability?

Today's gig

2009-03-14T23:34:00.001+08:00

was the first time I ever performed onstage.

Ignoring the pressures that Thomas and Norman put on me, especially with Thomas commenting on my choice of fashion and rambling discourse, I stepped up with the fantastic 3 (Jh, Phaedre, Daniel Tan) and pinged out a funky riff.

Finally, a space where I can be myself. Throughout my life this was the kind of arena I had wanted to be on. The wait was for people to hear my self-expression, on an elevated stage where the attention balance switches to me, with my bandmates going through the same expressive experience.

This is me being myself. This is me reaffirming my identity.

Chess and Jesters

2009-02-22T13:20:00.002+08:00

Apparently our bass-inspired friend has a new interest. If you see my blog roll you can see, right on top of the links, is the link to his 'memoirs' of his latest endeavour.

Yeap, he's into chess, and out to make a bang. This guy's on a recreational mission to revitalise the chess scene in Singapore from the parent-induced-glory-in-mind-child-takes-chess-lessons-at-age-10-just-like-any-other-ballet-or-piano-course.

He's going out onto the streets to play speed chess. You've had a hard day at shopping? Sit down, rest your feet, and engage in a game of organic chess. Guaranteed 100% natural, you don't even feel like the next move is going to make you scream out in painful vexation or agonising regret for having made a false move, nor do you feel like you're going to have to lose some cash losing the game.

This is because our friend, Kevin, is going for a feel-good, casual, one-to-one (or two or three if you have spectators) kinda playing experience. I can forsee him telling you when you've made a potentially false move, and also forsee you telling him what his strategy is going to be, and also forsee the fun that is going to come out of the obviously dialectic but interestingly amiable atmosphere during your play.

And what's more, Kevin's not playing for cash. This is a bold statement towards what might just be the true nature of chess: a clash of wits and grit and slick smooth moves, all with the playful and jovial feeling of friendly and amusing swashbucklery.

So, roll over his blog and take a look. Updates come twice every two weeks.

I love Judyguitar

2009-02-21T00:04:00.003+08:00

Just came back from a jam today. Was really looking forward to it, until I saw the signs that maybe it's going to be otherwise. You can really feel it somehow, when you hit the first note and it's kinda quite cold.

The drummer just got his chops and feel back, so naturally he played better. And of course becomes legitimate to make opinions and criticisms.

Now, if the jam with Kevin was the first light of the truth, this jam is the patterning of light particles into a coherent track with direction. Translation? This time round we began to be able to identify where're the sucky parts.

This guy's good by local music scene standards. But we are not anywhere near local music scene standards. I'm the kind of guy that wants things to be adequate and decent-at-least before going ahead and doing something out of it. So we have some time to kickback to ourselves.

See, you konw what's my worry? I have a reason to be uptight. I have a creeping apprehension that somehow, this band's lineup has a tendency to not be a long stayer. Jason's departure, to be honest, was really a big blow to us. And to me too. We lost someone whom we could grow with. Someone, after playing together for 2 years, whose feel and patterns and quirks we can catch, such that, "Tom, Tom, Snare, Snare" and we all instantly know what antics this guy is going to pull off.

For our latest drummer-audtionaire, I intend to ask him to see his role as a mentor instead as a confirmed drummer, until Iliyas comes back. That way the three of us can become better within this year and bring ourselves onto another level of understanding of band dynamics and music. Then when he has to leave we'll be better off to bargain for decent drummers. I'm thinking of Corny at the moment, cos he's got potential. Hopefully by the end of our internship he'd have learnt to listen to others? Cos he haven't played with a band yet to understand band dynamics. And I don't konw how to "train" him to listen to your bandmates. This kind of thing have to go through the mill one. Like the three of us.

When I see Junhong play 12 fret I know he's going to do a syncopated Eminor triad. When Phaedre plays in E I can roughly guess the next two notes she's going to play will somehow involve an A, C or D.

I've been quite shagged over loads of stuff. I wonder if I have time for personal growth? I dunno how Jh finds time to play guitar, cos I can't. I'm really lagging behind.

I need more time, and less pace.

2009-02-15T18:55:00.003+08:00

I was told

that

a friend of mine had a jrock vocalist as a group mate.

I was told

that

chess is apparently not under NAC's approved busking-activities list.

I was told

that

my project mate has church and tuition today so I'd have to wait for his email.

I was told

that

there are apparently a string of words that you say when you have a bad dream.

What I have not told anyone

the details of my latest nightmare.

And before that happens, I have no ability of understanding what you say to me.

2009-02-14T02:13:00.003+08:00

I think it's time I updated this blog.

I seem to update my Facebook more often.

I'm not free on Valentine's Day.

I think I have no more reason to be interested in subscribing to the conventional idea that we should dress up to go to school.

I don't want to have to upkeep an image for everyone to consume. Take me as I am. Though I may get a little lonely, I dun want to define myself with my clothes and hairdo.

What defines me?

I think I make a decent leader. That's one.

I think I am talented. That's two.

I think I can constantly take blows. That's three.

I think I am in control of myself. That's four.

I think there are so many possibilities that I am capable of. That's five.

I think I rule.

2009-01-21T21:58:00.002+08:00

been quite thoughtful these days.

if what we love about a person is his/her personal culture at this point of time, then when their culture changes, will we have any reason to love the person anymore still?

Will we say, I no longer know you

or will we proceed to understand this new change and accomodate this person who has changed?

Personal Culture refers to the person's character, habits, ways of looking at things, rituals, all the things that make the image of this person in front of us.

Then taking it a step further, what happens when we do not engage in the other person's personal culture, but instead look for archetypal models churned out by popular culture? Instead of going further to understand a person, we look for people who fit popular culture's image of "male suitor" and "female chic", or perhaps "emo boy" or "indie girl"?

And if that's so happenth, what happens when, after finding someone whose consumption patterns and culture that fits these archetypes, we continue to expect that this someone adheres to this model totally? What happens when we expect someone to be "normal"? And what if being "normal" is but an ideal?

Who are we falling in love with?

2009-01-11T22:23:00.000+08:00

Nothing to blog. Tml's sch reopening.

On the contrary, the band has lots of stuff going on. And the nagging doubt that the drummer will stay for long. Shitz.

I think I need to start praying.

2008-12-31T13:30:00.000+08:00

I busted my finger again. Playing Rockin in the free world.

As if that's not enough, I bought the wrong strings. Now bending at fret 2 double stops is impossible.

Plaster it is.

Shitz!!!

I

2008-12-21T19:07:00.002+08:00

just broke my faithful mug of 8 years. Was watching Fight Club on the computer when I had a sudden flurry of energetic inspiration and tried to spin myself up from my bed and swept the poor yellow bugger off the plastic stool beside me onto the floor, exploding it into a dozen pieces.

See it as the going of the old and the new possibilities of the new. Of course, it's not easy to find these new possibilities, some work must be done, and I intend to visit some nice porcelain shops to find a new mug for the next 10 years.

Do I feel pity? Not when I've taken it for granted for years. But then the resulting inconvenience will most probably remind me of its past presence for a while, until I move on and find another mug.

Does this sound like parallel to relevant human-to-human interactions?

2008-12-16T23:26:00.000+08:00

Jojo (A Short Story)

Today at 12:52am | Edit Note | Delete

Marlene Dumas
Measuring your own grave

Michael Hedges All Along the Watchtower Live

2008-12-14T21:47:00.001+08:00

This is the best version of his rendition of Bob Dylan's song imo.

Good Day

2008-12-14T21:37:00.001+08:00

Am rediscovering Michael Hedges' Spiritual Music all over again. Hedges is the epitome of the calm and Zen soul, religiously devout and yet thrilling at the same time.

Am obliged to share his music.

God rest his soul in heaven.

Nice shit Today

2008-12-11T23:29:00.002+08:00

Today marks the first jam Car Burns Friday has after the exams.

I'm so tired now, but I'd just say it's

Damn GOOOODDD LAAAH!!!!!

Flight of the Conchords - Hiphopopotamus vs. Rhymenoceros

2008-12-10T00:46:00.001+08:00

OMG!!!!

Flight of the Conchords- Business Time

2008-12-10T00:37:00.001+08:00

I LUUURRRRVEE THIS ONE MAN. Oh please someone please play guitar with me to do this.

Andy Mckee - Guitar - Drifting - www.candyrat.com

2008-12-10T00:08:00.001+08:00

see what i mean?

Justin King

2008-12-10T00:07:00.001+08:00

nice. but why are there so many such people?

I found an absolutely awesome game

2008-12-08T17:51:00.001+08:00

http://www.newgrounds.com/portal/view/472520

Somehow

2008-12-08T00:05:00.002+08:00

I need to condition myself to "wait it out". Cos while I have all reasons to believe something will happen as such or the situation is as so-and-so such, sometimes it jsut comes up as the opposite.

Most of the times it's me thinking something's probably fucked but then it turns out it is fine, or I am mistaken. Like the drummer episode. It was his mum who rejected our offer. Not him.

then again, I can't be too happy too soon.

So what else is there?

I thought that we had something going on, and that this was it, but it turned out otherwise. Yes, I'm still a bit hung up on it.

But then again, I can't be too sad too soon.

And then again, it probably doesn't mean a thing to be happy or sad. Just get on with life, like you've always have, johnson.

Oh btw today's OMS retreat was fabulous. I tot it was going to be crap but it turned out well.

2008-12-06T21:02:00.000+08:00

Re: Juck-Arse (A Poem)

Today at 9:13pm | Edit Note | Delete

sian

2008-12-06T01:25:00.000+08:00

Sian.

Blog Post.

2008-12-02T18:20:00.002+08:00

Blog Content

Really, Nothing to blog about today.

Let's see what has happened over the past few days:

1) Esplanade gig + Butterfactory excursion till 4 a.m

2) Shopping-turned-window-shopping-trip-after-realising-how-low-on-cash-I-am

3) Band Meeting at City Hall followed by Guitar in Peninsula

4) Frenzied efforts to beat the God level in God of War 2

It's getting boring seriously. I would really like to have more of the kind of experiences last Saturday, outside the club, chatting with friends and strangers (although one of the latter could go fuck himself off), sipping beer and smoking cigarettes that are intangible.

I guess clubs are most shallow places ever. Naked Men wear masks and smelly modern clothes and go to the floor to "express" themselves, but really they are just trying to look cool enough for them to snag and score a nookie with an equally shallow Women in equally boring fashion styles and personalities.

It's a place where one looks for the physical touch. When you invite a girl to dance you engage in physical contact with her that is approved in ways you can't do at the crossroads at City Hall.

I'm looking for the spiritual touch. No on gives this these days. Even the most innocent girls no longer engage in meaningful conversations anymore. Everything is related to the consumer world, where we construct out identites on flimsy and unstable trends and fads that threaten to disintegrate when we look away. Thus we keep on buying, consuming and eating fabric and wearing our food practices on our faces so that we will always remain relevant. Cycle after cycle and season after season.

What's your soul based on?

I used to love her

But I had to kill her.

Zen post.

2008-11-29T15:38:00.004+08:00

Some people go to Waterloo Guan Yin Temple to seek divine advice. Now that's like a parallel with speaking to god.

To my mind, you should just ask for a clear mind and clear heart to guide you around your life. Asking for advice means asking for instructions on what to do, or some excuse to give yourself a break.

You should just be Zen.

I'm taking requests for zen counselling from the start of next sem. Interested people in listening to my analytical interpretation of your problems are free to msg me.

One session one cup of tea.

My life in Brown

2008-11-27T16:04:00.007+08:00

There's a band called Shoe Size 9. Shall I call our band FONT SIZE 36?

I thought since I messed up my exam schedules by choosing modules so close to each other, now with so much free time and so little time to waste,

the recorder distracts me from studying.

instructions include, "... Please do not use Yamaha recorders for ANY OTHER PURPOSES other than those purely musical. Any occurrence of mishap due to negligent use is not our business."

Night time snack. It's no longer Maggi-in-a-Mug.

Sabrina I know you remember this one.

I brought this caterpillar back to the leaves after it annoyed me so much being unable to navigate through raindrops. Then I realised they just keep coming.

FOOOOO BEER!!!!!!

My side project. Growing Chillies. Apparently they are a hardy buynch. Made them go without soil for like 2 weeks due to the Term Paper period. Now it's fine. Next time anyone mum needs chillies, can try calling me.

the one in the middle is the strongest, and also my most favourite.

Yes, I want to do calligraphy again.

Localised Japanese English, Globalised Humour

2008-11-27T12:15:00.004+08:00

Before you start having alternative thoughts, this is a video I chanced upon about English teaching methods.

Please.

See more funny videos and funny pictures at CollegeHumor.

It looks stupid as the most recent post of my blog though.

2008-11-27T10:32:00.003+08:00

Thanks to all who think and wonder that I might be on my way to trouble, rest assured that I'm only on my way to blistered fingers and painful wrists and lots of music.

I think I'm more capable than anyone to take care of myself.