i find it ironic that the word alcohol is derived from arabic.

and i was going to post this up a while back but i forgot: stephen colbert's bush-smackdown result really exemplified tom lehrer's position that you can't do political satire any more because it's all become true. like awarding the nobel prize to kissinger.

have thing in eye. may be scratch, may be foreign body lodged in there.

makes me think of spacesuits stuck in there in their classic stiff-spaceman pose. for some reason

learned new word: pranged. as in, "he pranged his mother's car, so they got a new one."

i love it.

and had so much fun playing uno and mad magazine game and i've never laughed so hard.

and um dad had his ear torn up. cartilage was showing. blood everywhere. i hear this from my mom. now his ear was cut and stitched up in such a way that it's pointy and smaller than the other ear :
go daddy.

mm sleep. want cuddles.

this kicks ass.

and whenever i see models i think - ribs. too skinny.

hur so chee siok chin is appealing the election results a la thailand on the basis that the elections "were not free and fair". hohoho. 100 bucks says they won't win. no, actually. 10 peanuts says they won't win.

and i will be leaving this shores on aug 22. gods. its not sinking in.

whatthesamhill. makes no sense. how the hell do people spam tag boards????

utilising little girls isthe most insidious and devilish marketing ploy ever known to mankind. you could avoid them by looking straight ahead, but they come up to you and go "please will you buy cookies??" and you go "crap. okay" and watch your cash spirit out of your wallet. in 2 meetings they cleaned me out of 25 bucks. power.

in other thoughts:

"Repression, Sir, is a habit that grows. I am told it is like making love - it is always easier the second time! The first time there may be pangs of conscience, a sense of guilt. But once embarked on this course with constant repetition you get more and more brazen in the attack. All you have to do is to dissolve organizations and societies and banish and detain the key political workers in these societies. Then miraculously everything is tranquil on the surface. Then an intimidated press and the government-controlled radio together can regularly sing your praises, and slowly and steadily the people are made to forget the evil things that have already been done, or if these things are referred to again they're conveniently distorted and distorted with impunity, because there will be no opposition to contradict."

--Lee Kuan Yew as an opposition PAP member speaking to David Marshall, Singapore Legislative Assembly, Debates, 4 October, 1956

hmm.

WA SI HOKKIEN LANG!!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA *falls off chair and dies laughing*

this so kicks ass.

i went home at three last night, wending my way through silently watching desks that waited for their owners to come and Feed Me, the hungry press. i padded outside in my slippers that muttered "tak, tak" with every two steps i took, i flailed for a taxi and gabbled my way home, watching light0dark0light flash past in the zoetropeic manner it does. i saw a police car, and idly wondered about sugarcoatedcandynights where people jerk around in mindless abandon, and get pulled over for weaving their way home. today i wake up latelatelater than i wanted to, and conspiracies abounded to keep my from my job, which when i got there i found i utterly didn't need. and my phlegm is back again, a product of late nights and later wishes (i did say three, didn't i?)

and so i'm sick and cold. i curled up in a vacated chair for the body warmth and breathed me in again and again, recycling air and taking up smaller space. and this feeling is fading and fading, in smaller circles, and i shall stop

wow. seems like even the party hates some of the top brass too. and i thought the mouthpiece of the party was anti-establishment.

elections five years from now will be very very interesting. VERY interesting. i think whatever they do now can't salvage the fact that they're slipping. slowly, but surely. the old guard is moving out, and the new cynical smart alecks are moving in.

but i'd only vote for the ssf really :D

i've never seen the sky roiling before, light grey upon dark, flaring white in nanoseconds that you can't really say for sure until it's over and your eyes hurt a bit. but when you're on the roof and you're staring at the sky falling over itself in fury and the thunder doesn't stop but keeps sounding like godzilla's on a rampage at the container shipyard and knocking over those huge iron boxes, well, you feel a thrill. and now i know why people are scared of storms.

i think the fact that i actually understand all this should probably make me more than a little worried. but its just so...ridiculously amusing. it's the kind of light humour you get when no one is taking the damn thing seriously and everyone knows it. kinda like casual dating or something.

truthsearch: As a Pastafarian I'm offended by this immitation of the Flying Spaghetti Monster. It's a blatant mockery of all I find sacred. I demand reparations!
----------
scooter.higher: But this is no mockery! This is an homage... a show of support from the scientific community that they too have been touched by His Noodly Appendage.

They just wanted to be touched more often :-)
----------
Winlin: While I agree with your sentiments, I believe you may have overlooked the most important word in the original post...'reparations' So let's see some outrage, now. I know I have been offended by this invention to the tune of, easily, $500,000.

i'm sorry, i'm sorry. i'll go back to work now.

have you seen what is happening in palestine? have you? because of your deep seated need to punish hamas, you've overreached yourself. because you think economic sanctions will hurt those who make the decisions, because you wish democracy to run your way and dance to your tune you cut off funding. and look what happens. the top brass doesn't suffer. it's the people. and you say humanitarian aid gets through, but you haven't told us what humanitarian aid is, and of course you're not going to any time soon, what with your domestic crisis and all.

and the supreme irony? you say this will force hamas to bow down and accept israel and stop terrorist attacks and this will be a panacea, a solution to all your problems. maybe it will. only then will it be justified, and even then only barely. but what if it's not? palestinians know they're being "punished for their vote for hamas", i quote, from mr ismail siam in the article. what if this only proves to them the inability of the world to accept them for what they are, for their choice? what if this turns them towards hamas? makes them more accepting of the radicalism and the fanaticism and the death that will ensue, because this is the only way they will get their voice heard, and their basic needs met? what if they accede to holding the world hostage? and they just might, because they have nothing to lose.

and yet, i suppose there's no other way, in the minds of our world leaders. apparently waiting it out is not an option, letting democracy and stability change the minds of the people isn't an option. second chances don't figure in the global world policy. everyone seems to want to go down in history as "the one who stopped the war", "the one who save the middle east and possibly the world", remembered for their peace efforts and get a nobel prize. this may not be true, but any surprises why i'm so embittered and cynical with the whole thing? like the recent elections and the night watch, truth, democracy, freedom and love are all very well, but i'm more sure of getting a hard boiled egg with soldiers in the morning.

thing you probably never knew before: rhubarb means altercation, fight, argument, tiff..

yeah, i didn't know either. that's what crosswords do to you. they're very intuitive though.

so i'm looking at the IN selection of letters that complain about the singapore university system. they're worried that foreigners are taking the places of singaporeans, what with the low fees they have to pay, the high proportion of foreign students in singaporean universities and whatnot.

while i can see where they're coming from, i can't help but feel uneasy at how they phrase this, and the ramifications of what will happen if they get their way and singaporeans get preferential treatment. i suppose that because we have so few universities, its kind of hard to guarantee tertiary education for everyone in singapore who wants it, but from their tone of voice, it sounds like they're advocating positive discrimination for singaporeans who want tertiary and post-tertiary education. and that's not always a good thing.

it's probably me, though. i can hardly refute their claims that certain schools have gone so far overboard as to reserve slots for foreign students...i don't really know, see. but that's up to the school, i guess. though i wonder what's happened to meritocracy - do we accept the best of the best, or do we practice affirmative action (either way, for foreigners or for locals)?

the reason why this is bothering me so much is probably because i'm having second and third thoughts about going to the us. of course i want to go. dammit, 3-4 years in the us is definately appealing, and studying with some of the brightest minds in IR? i salivate at the thought (metaphorically speaking). but the cost. the cost. i don't know if my parents really can afford it, or they're just saying it to stop me worrying, or something. it's scary. and i'm not exactly paying my way, as it were. i mean, i'll be taking a job, but how far will that help? and of course, no scholarship means they're bearing all the burdern.

and bloody hell, tufts is expensive.

man he could have just given it away. ah who'm i trying to kid. this is more fun ;D

polling day tmr, and i'm working w0-0t.

oh and the pap is doing their attacking of key opp figures while tackling bread and butter issues, says afp. so it's interesting they've not whacked sylvia lim, who would appear to be the biggest fish.

had interesting talk with nat about singapore politics and straits times and sph and things. just stuffing them here so they can ferment in my brain without being lost. it kinda included: sph and gomezgate, media control, opposition in singapore and their uphill playing field, the ministers with ears on ground and those without, those who can't touch bases with real people, and the poor and the destitute. hmm.

ogay screw this actually i do know i'm dissatisfied and just "notquitethere yet" and just perpetually sleepy and something and SHIT i know not quite why. i think its a factor of things. but i do know how to solve it.

unfortunately i can't quite solve it just yet. #@)%(&!(*@%^!&@%^)( @*%_*#)

so everyone thinks i'm sick or bothered or something's bugging me beyond belief. i dunno. i think i'm just in apathetic mode. i'm just cruising and wondering how i'll last out the week that comes.

ran today. feel better, a bit.

no-cake-week lasted all of one day.

no energy to comment on politics. suffice it to say i think pap is clutching at straws and wp is handling it not bad and sda is a one man party and sdp is a circus.

there is a tissue box stealer in the office. mine disappeared over the weekend. i assume if you leave them around they'll disappear after 3 days >.<

in any case. brought cheese dip to work today. in the immortal words of sam, he is going to "grow fat and die". hur.

does kueh lapis count as a cake or a "kueh", i.e. not a cake? this is for the purposes of testing sam's resolve (which has already failed so nyeh).

my goodness i have nothing useful to say. apart from the frisbee (WHICH PWNS SO MUCHLY) and the line tower wars (which others got pwned at) and the current multiple rallies being broadcast around the newsroom and the confirmed-guaranteed-plus-chop-situation which completely cracks me up. its gonna come back to bite me in the ass, i just KNOW it.

only one person is gonna understand this shit, which is kind of scary.

on a side note, two #%(*&!@ weeks, bloody hell.

musing of the moment - rallies on loudspeakers are noisy and indistinct and irritating because i can't understand. it's like english through the water.
music of the moment - oscar peterson - corcovado
mood of the moment - gwa?

i have officially confirmed the validity of the marking-point "when sonia knows". it just means when every damn body knows. i'm so blur i can't see jack shit even when it's wearing a bright fluorescent neon pink and green tutu and dancing the can can in front of my eyes.

wake up, sonia, wake up. >.<

you know what would be interesting? opposition contests tanglin and win, and our pm ends up living in an opposition ward.

but that's not happening. although he IS fighting a ward, so that makes for news.

as usual, mm doesnt have to fight. hur. :P

staying late again, hmm-mm-mmmm-mm-hmm (a la donkey in shrek).

i'm STUCK on CODE MONKEY!!! it's damn cute!!!
reminds me of someone :P

oh and i just found out the picture was drawn by jawboneradiodudes. they rule.

and no, the bolded lines don't mean anything. i just love them.

Code Monkey get up get coffee
Code Monkey go to job
Code Monkey have boring meeting
With boring manager Rob

Rob say Code Monkey very diligent
But his output stink
His code not functional or elegant
What do Code Monkey think?

Code Monkey think maybe manager wanna write goddamn login page himself
Code Monkey not say it out loud
Code Monkey not crazy just proud

Code Monkey like Fritos
Code Monkey like Tab and Mountain Dew
Code Monkey very simple man
Big warm fuzzy secret heart
Code Monkey like you
Code Monkey like you

Code Monkey hang around at front desk
Tell you sweater look nice
Code Monkey offer buy you soda
Bring you cup bring you ice

You say no thank you for the soda cuz
Soda make you fat
Anyway you busy with the telephone
No time for chat

Code Monkey have long walk back to cubicle
He sit down pretend to work
Code Monkey not thinking so straight
Code Monkey not feeling so great

Code Monkey like Fritos
Code Monkey like Tab and Mountain Dew
Code Monkey very simple man
Big warm fuzzy secret heart
Code Monkey like you
Code Monkey like you lots

Code Monkey have every reason
To get out this place
Code Monkey just keep on working
See your soft pretty face

Much rather wake up eat a coffee cake
Take bath take nap
This job fulfilling in creative way
Such a load of crap

Code Monkey think some day he have everything even pretty girl like you
Code Monkey just waiting for now
Code Monkey say someday somehow

Code Monkey like Fritos
Code Monkey like Tab and Mountain Dew
Code Monkey very simple man
Big warm fuzzy secret heart
Code Monkey like you
Code Monkey like you

music of the moment - jonathon coulton - code monkey (couldn't you guess.)
mood of the moment - hungryyy.

code monkey! another love :)

have new love: tommy emmanuel. because:
beautiful. i love the chords. and the harmonics near the end...
amazing. watch the right hand picking.

when looking in the fridge for fruits and snacks, i saw a box of what looked like fried cockroaches. turned out to be the strange fried thai shrimp thing that was going for 10 bucks at funorama and we bought from thailand. :\ weird.

with the pond up and the plants in we're being inundated by frogs. the lotus is blooming (beautifully), and the frogs keep going "krrk-krrk-krrk-krrk" repetitively speeded up like so many stutterers and then they stop, uncannily, just stop. and there is silence. for 1 minute.

and there's one who keeps making his way back onto the partition between the upper and lower pond. we have no idea how he gets there. he just does. bizarre.

my aunt put it rather succintly: "every time there's an election, we get lawsuits."

and it's pretty ironic that where i'm working, i get an inside view of the "pap's mouthpiece", and they're almost as anti-establishment as the normal man on the street or your average taxi driver.
and yet, i hear almost daily the diatribes on media control [hur]. not that i'm vituperous or anything. i just find it inherently amusing, for some strange reason. i realise i find many many things amusing, even though they may not be so. ok, ok, maybe more "ironically amusing", to quantify it better.

well, some of the taxi drivers i know and talked to, and the normal [perhaps bourgoise?] man on the street who doesn't have to worry about where his next meal's coming from and can afford to worry about such idea[l]s as truth, justice, and a hard boiled egg [pratchett, for those who didn't get it]. with soldiers.

how inadvertantly apt. and no, i don't know how to spell inadvertantly, like i don't know how to spell bourgoise properly [i needed help for this one]. on a side note, inadverdantly sounds like what you get when you don't tend your garden for a few years.

maybe i should enter that into the washpost invitationals.

remember, you saw it here first.

...such a fine sight to see:
it's a girl my lord
in a flat bed ford
slowing down to take a look at me..

i've always loved those lines Ü

hey babe.
take a walk on the wide side.

mood of the moment - cynically amused
music of the moment - the eagles - take it easy
- lou reed - take a walk on the wild side

go here and do somethingood. GO NOW.

new car! new car! so COOL!! :D

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA TEH WIN!!11 NO WAI!!111one

i have been slowly killing myself (in a good way) thanks to the marvels of the washington post's style invitational archive. some good stuff:

multi-purpose store names:
Optician/cleaners/shoe store: See, Spot, Run (Jennifer Lynch, Waco, Tex.)
Doors at a delousing center/oyster farm: Nit: 1; Pearl: 2 (Chris Doyle)
Singles bar and doughnut shop: A Toroid Affair (Douglas Frank, Crosby, Tex.)

new words:
Occupotion: That afternoon coffee that gets you through the rest of the day. (Michelle Stupak, Ellicott City)
Scienara: A rejection of reason and evidence. "The Kansas Board of Education said scienara to evolution." (Jonathan Guberman, Princeton, N.J.)
Oxymorose: Laughing on the outside, crying on the inside. (Stephen Dudzik, Olney)
Oopsnoxious: Said of someone who "accidentally" bumps into women at a bar. (John Shea, Lansdowne, Pa.)
Oppository: What a Labor Party MP calls a Conservative. (Marty McCullen, Gettysburg, Pa.)
Ostentitious: Having Pamela Anderson-size implants. (Chuck Smith, Woodbridge)
Ovareasy: A very fertile woman. (Jonathan Guberman)
Pachydermine: A fat lady in a fur coat. (Brendan Beary, Great Mills)
Placcid: Soft and limp, but okay about it. (Paul Kocak, Syracuse, N.Y.)
Parsehole: One who constantly interrupts a friend to correct their grammar. Excuse me, his grammar. (Brendan Beary)
Pastriarchy: The upper crust. (John O'Byrne, Dublin)
Punchkins: The little circles you pop out of paper to put it in a binder. (Ben Schwalb, Severna Park)
Perfidiot: Someone who's both a backstabber and a moron. (Brendan Beary)
Rabbinicate: When a Jewish mother lectures. What, you thought she'd be pontificating? (Peter Metrinko, Chantilly) - HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHAHAHAHA
Ragony: Menstrual cramps. (Tom Witte)
Remedius: The return of a driving salute. (Helen and Paul Stone, Silver Spring) - awyeah
Rectomb: A big soft cushion for parking your butt. (Stephen Dudzik)
Rhinoblasty: A punch in the nose. (Greg Arnold, Herndon)
Sabbratical: What a schoolteacher needs every now and then. (Tom Witte)
Shoddenfreude: The perverse pleasure one gets at seeing someone break a heel of her $400 Manolos in a heating grate. (Chris Doyle)
Sanitarry: To spend too much time in the lavatory. (Douglas Frank, Crosby, Tex.)
Snideways: How one sneers at merlot-drinkers. (Tom Witte)
Stirruptitiously: How a gal got out of trouble before Roe v. Wade. (Steve Fahey, Kensington)
Sudokuku: Addicted to filling in numbers in little grids. (Pam Sweeney, Germantown)
Swain't: An ex-boyfriend. (Tom Witte)

eulogies to:
Elmer Dresslar Jr., voice of the Jolly Green Giant
His ho-ho-hos were said with ease;
It's fitting that he rest in peas.
(Stephen Dudzik, Olney)

Robert Hunter, founder of Greenpeace
Bob Hunter has gone to his final repose;
From cancer his health had been failing.
His passing was marked by his friends and his foes,
Respectively weeping and whaling.
(Brendan Beary, Great Mills)

Robert Moog, pioneer of electronic music and the inventor of the Moog synthesizer
NnnnOOOWWWW
yyyoooouuuu'''rrrrrre
ddddEEEEEaaadddddd.
PITTI-pitti-pitti-pitti-pitti . . .
(Jeff Brechlin)

ahh just go check it out. its hilarious.
sam hates me now, for giggling at my screen and distracting him with stupid messages.

vicarious is such a strange word.

vi·car·i·ous
adj.
1. Felt or undergone as if one were taking part in the experience or feelings of another: e.g. read about mountain climbing and experienced vicarious thrills.
2. Endured or done by one person substituting for another: vicarious punishment.
3.
a. Acting or serving in place of someone or something else; substituted.
b. Committed or entrusted to another, as powers or authority; delegated.
4. Physiology. Occurring in or performed by a part of the body not normally associated with a certain function.

meh?

eeeyah. so i haven't been posting (in a dereliction of duty). just seems like a lack of things to post, so i shall put up LINGS, or links to things.

okay, okay. its a typo. in any case:

haveyouseenthisbunnyitisHUGE
till death do us PWN
REALLY big photoshop
go to the nodwick shirts. i'm in ur base killing ur d00ds. i want.
and the eyechart should be used in singapore. i mean, think of all the sudden decreases in myopia we'd have.

heehee what with all the stuff on taxis i've been doing, we should probably look to the economist for answers.

anyways. not much posts, because me lazy >.< about the few things i can think to post up right now are:
1. i lost and found my favourite pair of jeans. yes, i can lose laundry. rather i found it in my aunts car boot. *boggle* go sotong power.
2. we finally caught the shrew that's been hiding under the washing machine. i dont remember if i've posted this, but we failed to catch it the last time...this time i was eating dinner on wednesday, and suddenly i felt something scrabbling on my pantsleg. so i lift it up. and it goes "scweeek!!". i move it again and it scrabbles again and goes "SCRWEEEK!!".

so i grab my calf and yell for dad. who takes his own sweet time to get upstairs >.< suffice it to say it ran into the small bathroom and my dad pushed me inside, said "throw the towel on it" and shut the door. >.< i think he's scared of the shrew. i spun around trying to catch it so many times i got dizzy. in the end i dropped the dustbin over it.

and then dad had to release it out of the house. the last time us 4 kids did it we went all the way to the foot of the hill to release it near the drain.

dad just stepped out of the side gate and let it go. >.< and he calls us idle.

meh this is the first time in a long while i've not had to chase deadlines...i'm in the blessed state of limbo where i dont need to freak out, work late, or rush stuff. sure, i have work, but i just haven't started them yet so they aren't really hanging over my head.

bleah.

i don't know if you know this, but i never intended for it to happen. at all. it just did, and then it became a case of dealing with the situation, rather than stopping the avalanche. you know why it took so long? it's because i feared something like this would happen. ironic.

so d isn't going to continue with work anymore, because her family thinks she's wasting her time here, her boyfriend thinks she's wasting her time here, her old form teacher gave her a piece of his mind for wasting her time here, her friends think she's wasting her time here..well..i don't know. poor girl. she's too nice. it's bloody hard to do this job already, the hours aren't easy, but it must be so much harder to go to work each day with disapproval at your back, and come home to pieces of minds floating around unsaid.
so this is a hug for her *hugs*

i guess the job's ok. the people make it fun :D don't know how it'll be when we get back, if we get back. things change...i dunno. tufts looks like it's gonna be fun, if our theories are anything to go by. although it would be good to make a clean break from the past, i guess it's not so bad to have people i know, specially if i don't particularly want to break off.

its a good thing i'm not hormonal now. i've had to break off recently. i miss fudge. thursday was just...convenient. i became available. now...ahh. i don't know. i'm resigned to demonisation, gods know i deserve it. there're many things i could explain, but i can't now. you're not listening anyway. its all over, and its so ironic it's ridiculous. most of the irony lies with me i'm afraid. there are so many layers that i couldn't even begin to explain, because there's no starting point. so i'm resigned to this outcome, i'm not surpised, although i hoped. have cake, will eat.
on a side note, working here can screw your mind up badly:
after a phone interview:
"its not just that he's had sex. he was sec 2. and gay."
"i am really really really not listening to you right now." head under jacket, hands over jacket over ears and constantly fiddling with jacket so i really can't hear a thing
my head almost literally exploded. that horrific.

this hurts. i'm in the office, and by now i'd have called you and dragged you from your house and we'd be eating dinner and talking. but i can't.

how'm i supposed to survive august.

have you heard of the gospel of judas? not the damned novel, please. i'm talking about the AD300 one, copied down in coptic. the one that's part of codex tchacos

the one that portrays judas as human.

""In the text, Jesus challenges his disciples to look at him and understand what he really is, though they turn away. In a key passage, he tells Judas that "you will exceed all of them. For you will sacrifice the man that clothes me.' ''


i want to read this gospel. i want to humanise the bible that i see.

so i'm up tonight, it's latelatelate, but as i told the Other Aspect in the depths of my mind, i'm up tonight to get things down, because more should come from my mouth than the mucoid yellow goop and blood and airy fairy blasteds, and things should be set down in pixels.

ironic. it starts in blood, swirls around in blood, and ends in blood. from the journey to my bed yesterday, that i was too tired to put down, to now. for one, i expected more relief when salvation came, but nothing. nothing. just a note, then nothing. a dot, a full stop. maybe because more important things had supplanted it, but.

other things i remembered on the road to my bed:
whenever i leave the office, i have to step out to the lift lobby. one has been shut up the whole day, for ever, and the air conditioning accumulates cold. the other has not been shut up, it's open to the car park, tucked to one side along the corridor from the slumbering autos like a lurking alley that never felt menacig. the air is cold there - something is cold there - and much of my subconscious teeth-gritting and shivering stems from there. and i grit my teeth to stop from coughing, from ripping the back of my throat out (as i do so often these two days), i do it so much i hurt my temples, i throb in mute and enforced repression.
but today, today, i failed, and i wondered at the gob of phlegm spat onto my fingers because i couldn't keep it in my mouth (like a live oyster it felt like). and it looked like a small yellow oyster, nestled between my third finger and second, a jaundiced rajah indicative of how low i'd fallen. too sick, too sick, i say, and it glistens at me in reply as i wash it down the sink almost reverently, never really seeing what colour it is.
and the next day, today, i cought up a bright yellow brain, flecked with blood.

too much bearnaise sauce, too much chicken, just too much. a waste, a waste, a waste screams my mind as the explosion of water blasts the clinging yellow mustard away into cloudy emulsions coating the sink and clogging the greedy drain that surfeits.


and then its the second day, and i wake up to find that blood has been spilt this night. funny how these things work out, no? i take off to take a break, and i merely become available to be the centre of the universe again, the dead, unshakeable centre.
and its tragic. its tragic that after ten years, one fucking aneurysm can stop EVERYTHING. it was supposed to be happy. good.

its not fair. its not fair. i DONT HAVE TO REMEMBER THIS SHIT BUT I DO. ninth of may. sixth of april. it'll push back, and back, and back until i back off the cliff edge, maybe.

i'm not going through it again. i'd take the pain, if i could, but that would make you less human. and hell, who am i to know what to do, to say, to act?

and one of the hardest things to ever say was to her, to tell her i betrayed her. it may not be completely over, but its a start.

perhaps once a month or so i get these poetic, word-dribbling spells. hypersensitive mode. maybe this was brought on by babel tower. its wearing off now though, it could be the sleep i need. i cannot remember what i was going to say.

but before i go, i know two things. one: that i feel again. the frisson, the life that i have been missing. i know i'm alive again, when i breathe and my breath catches, when i turn, and i see you looking at me in that way, when i stop talking because of that shivery cold mercury feeling [and cold mercury is right. its poison, what this feeling is], when feather-touches raise imaginary burns.
this is my religion, the one of three that few believe in, though many believe in its ideal, their idol. hah, i pontificate. but i believe now, i have balloon-wings, i touch the earth lightly, and only you can catch me now.

and leon put out a candle tonight, an almost-votive offering. to him it means something, to me, something else. i wonder: does he know why he put it out? did some sort of telepathy induce him to put it there? in any case, its one small light out there, beyond the glass, and it says more than any word could say about what i want and feel right now.

my words have deserted me. i feel numb.

i have heard it said,
that the coats were red,
so that the blood of wounds should be hidden.

""...because these wings are no longer wings to fly
but merely vans to beat the air..''
-Ash Wednesday, T.S. Eliot

i like his name. its so unpretentious, no double letters, nothing.

i will read this on ash wednesday. not for the religiosity [you (should) know me too well for me to do that], but for the poem, the words. you could create a religion out of words. spread the word, send it round.

it's good for your soul.

and now i leave the office. mindsouldrone,iam.

..because you have the capacity for forgiveness! for empathy! because you don't leave him in the lurch, because he's gone through so much more than you have! that's why you stand and clap and cheer for him, because you pity him. i wonder. how many clap and cheer because they feel sorry, and how many clap and cheer because they're inspired by someone trying to make the best of what he has?

because i remembered pablo neruda.

Sonnet XVII
Pablo Neruda

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

i'm sitting in the office and feeling ebullient, without the happiness. i feel heavy yet detached, the others sitting behind the partition and talking in a varigated liquid murmur of sound do not seem to register. i haven't been registering words. people talk to me, and somehow the words don't register. i hear the rhythm, the pitches, the syllables (if it's a good minute), but i cannot string them together into meaning. maybe i'm too tired. its scary, my brain is degenerating, i think. i don't know what i'm saying any more.

i'm supposed to write articles, but in the mood i'm in i cannot. i doubt they'll appreciate moody, melancholic, sardonic, cavalier writing, the type of broody writing you get when your face is locked into a ground state of blatant bored numbness. i've been grinding my teeth a lot today, inadvertantly.

and i doubt i've been really performing at work recently. i think the supervisors notice. i can't think or concentrate, i can't write, and the nyaa thing yesterday was a blur of pained speech. just now when we were returning from lunch across the road, i had the fingers of my right hand pressed against my forehead, like someone's hand gripping a basketball, to hold my face onto my head. i feel like how i think soumya feels when she writes, the kind of detached observation of the world that she pens.

i feel sick. not totally incapacitated, but just over the edge of wellness. as i yawn i feel like i'm breathing out armies and swarms of germs, just ready to infect others who breathe this recycled office air. air conditioning can kill, it's so cold.

the word "resuscitation" just occurred to me, i don't know why. as did "ambivalence", and "disparation" dropped in on me with the silence from across the white partition and the sudden shrilling of the phone next to me. i talk to people, it's my job.

i've been listing to moody music too much, perhaps. brought some from home, and playing it softlysoftly on the computer. jive bunny glenn miller swing medley didn't help with the mood. maybe it's the angry-girl music we listened to on the way to work, as dawn calls it. for some reason, i'm missing my earworms. i have had no music in my blood, in my mind, in my ears for some time, and it shows, it hurts. i miss piano lessons, even the shrill drilling of my teacher's voice when i don't practice and sometimes even when i do. i miss the caress of the white and black keys, the slow smooth soothingness of polished and varnished wood, the melody that sings from her piano (not mine, i don't have enough echo to smooth out the ends). i wish i could play effortlessly, make music, not play it. but i think making music is harder, much harder, and not as flippant as playing it.

and now it's 2, and almost strangely on cue everyone suddenly floods in, all these people suddenly, at this magic minute when people end lunch and begin work. suddenly, there's noise, there's sound, and the place lives again. phones sound, mercurial murmurs blend and die away, and now it's 2.01.

tonight, i think the world is gonna end. and i'm still waiting for bloody salvation.

lucidfiction is what my random ramblings and rants attempt to emulate, although i didn't know it until now.

and you say they're just words.

few things, i guess, i wanna note:
1. political blogging frowned upon here? at least, no podcasts, videocasts about politics, what with ge coming up and all. wtf. socialism democracy of one man one vote eh? the pm the man, he got the vote yah? not that we can actually have any democratic debate anyways. nothing to debate about.

2. france vs britain, both vs race mm? from some beeb broadcast. like i said earlier, france has screwed up its way of dealing with race. it can't deal with its issues, because it doesn't even acknowledge them in the first place. by claiming "everyone has no race", they're sweeping the whole race issue under the carpet and pretending it's not there. so how do they handle the problem when muslims feel marginalised and excluded and sometimes humiliated? they don't. and you get riots and calls for acceptance go unanswered.

anyways. feel emotionally numb and drained recently. stupid decisions come with Consequences. gods.

i'm waiting for bloody salvation.

well, didn't get amherst. ironic, no? shit lah. anyways, looks like tufts for me, or uva. just annoyed because i think i shouldn't have sent promo and prelim grades, and wondering if its because they didn't send my a level grades that i didn't get it. hate it.

just really, really tired. too much thinking at night really doesn't do well for the next morning.

alright, alright. so dartmouth and williams and johns hopkins rejected me. oh well. was nice to try, would have been a nice validation (yes, we all need ego boosts ne?). so georgetown waitlisted me. think i'll stay on? dunno. but i got uva and tufts. so. decision's made? not quite. amherst? would be ironic if i didn't get it.

i'll wing retreat tonight. and tomorrow afternoon.

hokay that was just me overreacting again. NO WORRIES!!!

on a side note: eating tons of plums and who the hell's giving out my number.

ALRIGHT DAMMIT! ENOUGH ALREADY!!

geez. ah why do i care. couldn't even be bothered to leave a comment, if you're still hung up about it, man, whatever. and if you weren't even there, well, yay. HIGH moral high ground man. whoop de doo. feel self assured. as long as you're happy.

so, so ironic. barely a year after being ousted by the streets, the streets are putting yanukovich back in again. yuschenko is flailing, losing popular support, and ukraine wobbles again, trying to decide between the west and the bear. timoshenko i think will be a dark horse kinda player, power behind the throne and all. she's in second place, so surprisingly, which might provide some amusement. so there goes the orange revolution. i suppose it indicates the marvel of democracy and all, but it's just so ironically and tragically amusing. reminds me of pratchett:

"don't put your trust in revolutions. they always come around again. that's why they're called revolutions. people die, and nothing changes."
-vimes

i think.

in anycase, georgetown dumped me on the waiting list. one up, one down, five/four? shake it all around.

if i ever manage to draw properly, i wanna draw like banksy.

i get called by financial planners??????

and heh. coyote is amusing, and coyote + interns make for very hilarious...situations. and innuendos.

catching up with old friend, going home, and revisiting fresh fears. where did everyone go? drop me a note, sometime, even a whole jazz tune would be lovely.

i met my old lover friend
on the street last night
she seemed so glad to see me
i just smiled
and we talked about some old times
and we drank ourselves some beers
still crazy afler all these years
oh, still crazy after all these years

mood of the moment - fearful, pent-up prayer
music of the moment - paul simon - still crazy after all these years

wow. things happen so fast like raindrops pelting your skin. one down (UVa? should i go, or should i stay?), six to go, and fear of falling keeps me awake, amongst other things, fear of going too fast and tripping, fear of accidents. i'm going around, saying ""i don't believe myself, i don't believe i just did that'' [yes, remnants of work there] and then and then i never learn >.< the media is a bad influence, and yet, as she said, actions are amoral.

are they? is all that's saving me sophistry?

but hon, for you. the lesson of the moth, as promised. so apt, so apt,

so apt.

we are like human beings
used to be before they became
too civilized to enjoy themselves

i love archy. 'specially his maxims.

mm pirates of the caribbean is good for restoring humour.

music of the moment - rockapella - free falling
mood of the moment - swingingwhatever.

presupposition is such a wonderful thing. like suppositories.

>.<

guided missiles, and misguided men. where is the truth in that? and so i leave, in a cloud of whirlwind dust and feathers and shards, because there really isn't anything else to say. i'll implode on my own, because there's no need to take the world with me. knives in the gut, stabs in the back, trip and fall, alcohol, kitty has claws.

words drip from my mouth again, mucoid secretions that cling frantically to my lips before giving in to gravity and falling to the floor where they clump in a fragile attempt to preserve whatever small life they have.

now or later? i never wanted to pull and twist strings.

really. whatever.

wow. knife in the gut.

isn't it interesting how most of our lives are lived vicariously through pixels and bytes and text on the net. we communicate through flickers on our pale white screens, tapping emotions into keyboards, and these are things we never dare reveal to others.

like it or not, your life is ruled by others.

music of the moment - by the tapping of my thumbs/ something wicked this way comes.
mood of the moment - whatever. the cough/mucus generation is not helping.

i've blown my nose so much it's bleeding. i'm scared to do it again, lest i bust something more.

be careful what you wish for, please. there's a reason why you have to stick it out. and transatlantic rivalry right now is pretty stupid.

guh. cant say very much now, no incisive analysis (like i ever put one up). my life seems to be focused on the mundane, probably because a bad throat and bacterial thingy forces your feet back onto the ground like lead weights. i just wish the ground wasn't at the bottom of the sea, that's all. i'm not depressed or anything...just detached. or maybe still dazed and amazed.

meh.

oh gods what a weekend. WHAT a weekend. i've poured enough alcohol into my system to give my liver a workout for the next month or so, and this is the 5th week in a damn -row- i've been out late, and it just keeps getting more extreme. gods.

(on a sidenote, check out fancypants! best flash game evar. ok alongside foon.co.uk. and um, gee, this feels like playing rayman all over again Ü)

cjc thing was ok, i guess. taize and all. but throat got in the way of singing. and after that, we went out! and suddenly we ended up in zouk. as drea says: "wa. alive group. damn happening!"
which is pretty ironic. then again, we never aimed to be a church group.

and THEN. the next day, i end up playing battlefront for long hours again and end up with headache again. but btw mezebar 'sgood drinks. you pay for the presentation though. but there was a good saxophonist. after that. 9 damn drinks in 2 damn hours. ummmm...about a total of 1 shirleytemple, 1 vodkalime, 2 ginandtonics, 3 tequilapops (my new favourite Ü), a toffeetini and a half-pint of guinness. gurgh.

andthenandthenohgods.ineedsleep.

i don't want another broken body and ashes. is that too much to ask, to change your plans? must i remember another date?

sweetandsinful,you're.a.god.
you're my god. six ways to sunday, highway to hell.

well since i've just gotten most of my work cleared, let me just say i slept exactly 12 hours ago for a reason, and that reason was work. what sort of work, well, heh. *grin* it involved a projector, a xbox 360, hi-definition, quake 4, doa4, and a surround sound system. not necessarily at the same time.

SQUEEEEE.

and dad played xbox! everyone be astounded! hehe because it was need for speed: most wanted. so he got to drive a lambo left and right. very left and right :P we're borrowing a steering wheel for him :D

pity i had to return the 360 today though :( no worries.

I FOUND MY PLUM!!! hahaha well actually i forgot to eat it after my chicken dum bryani thing so now i'm biting it in place as i type. it's nice and sweet. the green plum type (i dont know what happened to the big ones, they're all hard now). nyum.

anyways. of all days to pile work on me it has to be today. xbox day. but no worries! i'm sneaking off once in a while for quake and doa :D

maybe i'll sneak more. there's the party tonight. see if alive ends soon enough.

interesting, that the most tolerant and stable of beliefs rejects beliefs. this is why i'm a religious humanist. yes, i've found my religion. nyah. and i am a defender of faiths. plural. not singular.

except for maybe one singular. the one of 3.

..six ways from sunday
and a million miles from it all.

I WANT THESE THINGS. they're just so funky.

and i'd do this to my thumbdrive only i figure it's funkier in its little rubber casing.

and they're taking the hobbits to isengard!

one tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor.
five tequila, six tequila, seven tequila, more.

wow. two bloodshot eyes were never more worth it.

XBOX 360!!!!! quake4deadoralive4needforspeedmostwantedperfectdarkzero *gasp* ninetyninenightse-mtomclancy'sghostrecon. so i started out monday with playing all those, and somehow or the other i've ended up reviewing the first 3. woah. i foresee my lunch hours receding into the far, far distance as we spend hours at the xbox360 corner in the office. hurhurhur Ü

and the best bit? it's all under "work". *does very happy dance*

and then it was all the way to admiralty (in woodlands!!) for debate stuff, then it was all the way back to serene for APPLEPIEICECREAM at island creamery. good grief it tastes like the apple pie leon makes at home. AWYEAH. with DIGESTIVE BITS and frozen APPLES. bliss. then it was to adam road for food! ok, so we did it the other way around, dessert before dinner. but it was good stuff.

and then it was chillout@tcc. with a honey latte, because my throat had been getting steadily worse for some unknown reason. yes, they have honey lattes. 'sgoodstuff. and then bumming around and pottering around chip bee gardens.

i perpetually get lucky >.< ran into a recovered birthdayboy+friends and a llama. the whole world seems to be at holland v.

excluding the fever, a good day. murrr.

on other notes, bush's finally turning internationalist . maybe a case of too little, too late, but at least it's started.

we have a POND. Ü

and two koi

because i don't want to do any damn psc essay because they're so damn annoying and i dislike it intensely.

so dxo was surprisingly good - the music was r&b and the company was fun :D although birthday boy passed out because of all the liquor poured into him, and skullboy was totally totally smashed and hence pervy, though the nice boys took care of that. and there was the table occupation. else all fun :D so many familiar faces.

and i discovered the value of dancing with elbows ^^ if guys get too close to you hur.

anyways.

today as i was barely listening to the sermon and the homily (which was rather amusing, at least the bits i caught where father o'neill slyly chided the sleeping), i thought: the ancients had it good. there was no room for doubt - when god spoke, it was with the works. fire and brimstone. how easy to believe.

and then after that, when there was the mass mumbled generic prayers for souls, father o''neill dropped a bombshell on me.

"let us pray for the soul of slobodan milosevic, who died last night."

milosevic is dead. it's almost the passing of an era. the old guard is dying out, the faces to the horrors perpetrated against humanity (such a faceless term to our collective soul and mind of society) and instead we look to terms and shroud ourselves/ourselfs in words to try to identify a blank threat that we've written a blank cheque for.

where are we going?

let us pray.

mood of the moment - wondering pensively
music of the monment - goo goo dolls - acoustic #3. and u2 - stuck in a moment

well since sarah tagged me, here goes:
1. i'm written into a book. well, not intentionally at least, but i'll leave you to find out which book.
2. apparently i'm slimmer when i don't exercise. so that means my fat thighs are because of muscle mass, dad!! >.<
3. in explanation of 2., my dad will periodically come up with comments like "your thighs are fat" out of the blue. i love you dad >.<
4. if i don't sleep enough, my nose starts running.
5. my past seems to be composed of closed doors. or at least jammed ones. i can't seem to come up with any interesting snippets of my past on demand. so this is the last thingy you're gonna get.

i'm not gonna tag anyone, because that would mean they have to go through this torture :P

well, dp world is now "selling off its leases to a us entity", "primarily to salvage the UAE's relations with the US" [quotes courtesy of bloomberg and other wonderful news people].

..well done mister congress. your partisan fears have chased away potential cooperation with the middle east and [since you're so economically-founded-and-grounded] possible economic tie-ups in the future. all for nothing, really, because your port security will remain in your hands, and you don't seem to realise that dp world simply has no interest in blowing up a port that it manages.

those of us out of america just shake our heads in befuddlement. i suppose the amount of paranoia is understandable considering what america's been through, but if you count dubai as one of your allies in the "war against terror", and then you turn around and say "you can't be trusted with our ports!", what does that tell them? sure, they were nice enough to back off on the deal, but you can bet this isn't doing your image any good down the middle east. general john abizaid is right. this really does come down to "unneccessary arab- and muslim-bashing". are you so myopic to be unable to see that the muslim world isn't monolithic? that there are moderates within the extremists?

arg.

anyways. interestingly enough, we're mentioned in the same vein as myanmmar, "arguably the most repressive regime in the world". ain't that nice.

so the last of the hamsters has snuffed it. >.<

fraility.

i'm tired i'm tired i'm probably most definately pms-y because i'm so irrational and emotional and annoyed. i can't possibly be physically tired because i slept till 10 today, but i am, and it's probably mental and emotional drain. i ache for no reason at all, i can't think straight, i couldn't even be diplomatically alert today, i couldn't ask the questions, i'm tired, i want a hug, i'm drained. i want to cry i just want a hug and a back rub what the HELL is going on. this is so ridiculous. *%#(ing hormones. where are you c'mere.

sarah will love this. hear her squeal.

on other notes, i just discovered IRAQ THE MODEL. very interesting insights. good stuff to chew on. does anyone know more about these guys?

this is why i don't understand the printed mind. it's why i can't understand why people would deliberately print the silly cartoons just to emphasise "freedom of speech". freedom of speech can go stuff it if you ain't got stability. freedom of speech, well, you have the freedom of speech to say "bite me" to a gun-toting murderous robber who's holding you up, but you don't. this is what we call self-preservation [you fools]. and they who print inflammatory remarks don't have this instinct because they're merely part of the mindless mob that rants and raves from the safety of orthodoxy, dogmatism and ossified tradition. there's no self to preserve; there's just the safety of the mob, the false stone walls that you put your faith in.
but stone walls crumble. and then, where will you be?

stupid stupid fools.

so i'm walking around j8 because i'm trying to exchange a defective top but that's not the point. the point is i see one of those coin-operated machines where you put in like 50 cents and the thingy starts moving and playing music. all well and good..i used to love playing on them even though i didn't always put in coins. was more fun anyways. you could imagine you were riding a motorbike, rather than a tacky yellow and pink horse >.<
but in this case, they put a monitor in front of the kids, so they play a road unwinding when you put in your coin, like some of those digital exercise bikes. which is a pity, because there goes imagination. instead of looking ahead of you and seeing curious shoppers and getting embarrassed, you look at your screen and lose out the world around you to the world in front of you in line-y pixels and bytes, tacky though it may be.
it's like ipods. the music of the 70s to 80s were public music. boom boxes blasted beats, speakers shouted songs and anthems were audible. now people sit at bus stops, on trains, in lifts like granite statues, silent and staring, listening to their own little private world of music. the only sharing we have for music is when someone blasts their music so loud it becomes hello-and-goodbye-mr-eardrum.
a pity.

i read this and actually felt physically sick. partly because this is absolutely inhuman. do you have no respect for the dead? is the coffin only temporary, a mere comma instead of a full stop? don't you feel nauseous, taking out a body for tendons and trauma? is the need for research and transplant so overwhelmingly great that you must desecrate the dead to sate your phoenical hunger? and what makes it worse is that you are depersonified. they probably saw it was alistair cooke. they probably didn't care. to them he was just a slip of paper. the alistair cooke. how could you do this to him? how could anyone reconcile that genial voice with someone who has been brutally and clinically sold as spare parts? you can't. there is just no way that someone who is immortalised in thousands of tapes and rambling but subtly pointed letters could be reduced to a victim of such depravity. there is just no possible way. but it has happened. how do you deal with it?

so today mom's got people over. and she roped us all in to help. which we promptly did, singing loudly. she called it "chronic". and so she was forced to bribe us to shuttup ("the things i do for peace and quiet"). so leon gets a new thumbdrive, and i get to go out. hur.

in any case, this is what i came up with after peeling godsknowhowmanychestnuts.

do your ears hang low?
do they wobble to and fro?
can you tie them in a knot?
can you tie them in a bow?
can you swing them over your shoulder
like a continental soldier?
do your ears hang low?

do your ears stand high?
do they stretch up to the sky?
can you signal far-off ships?
if you flap them will you fly?
if you're an armless defender
can you signal your surrender?
do your ears stand high?

do your ears stick out?
do they shiver when you shout?
can you carry twenty shirts?
can you skewer lazy trout?
can you semaphore your neighbour
to divide up garden labour?
do your ears stick out?


turkey in the straw...

hehehe class bbq was quite the..experience. thank you to all those who helped me get the stuff out and put them back...and for those who didn't come, >.< @ you. heh. oh well. twas fun and all's good :D

woah. so my grades aren't perfect, but they'll do. like the Os, i'd like to think they make me more human. i can't give you perfect scores, i may almost perpetually be the underdog, but i guess i'm fine with that. amplicity - ample time to do what i want, ample space to underachieve/slack..heh. see how that goes.

i think too much sometimes. my brain is so fried on occasion you're never gonna get anything more sane out of me than little ramblings and occluded mind's-eye-views.

but there are some things i KNOW, dammit.

tomorrow belongs to asia.

off from the economist, a prophecy that would probably mean many things to different people. for the US perhaps, and europe, that would be a prophecy of doom for quite a few. for asia, southeast and otherwise, it's a foregone conclusion. we're just waking up, we like to point out. we're just getting started. wait till you hear us roar.
and for some others all around the world, it's no surprise. the few demographically sustainable countries are almost all in asia. of these countries, those that have the most potential (obviously china and india) are in asia. investment that goes into these countries ALONE could power a no-kid-left-behind policy for the US and then some.
maybe that's why there's a boom in such cross-country mergers. you see big companies getting bigger, and government companies becoming privatised and you think, wow, progress yay :) i dunno.\\gosh i'm sleepy and i have work. will continue this train of thought later.

the 5 of us in the newsroom are absolutely unable to work. this is probably gonna persist for the rest of the week, especially when results come back. so. (#*%&(@#&%( i don't know what i'm gonna do when i find out i dont have to go up on stage...shit now i'm speculating [sounds like scapula, but only less funny]. thank you very much, my colleagues.

grrrrrr.

my dog snores. it goes "snark snork hnnnng". it sounds like dad does. which is one of the reasons i keep giggling.

dad's being dignified about it.

w00t 2 days. hahaha..
i'mgonnadiei'mgonnadiei'mgonnathrowUPandTHENi'mgonnadie.

caught in the act.
oh gods.

just visited the blog and saw this on the quotes:

"Instant idiot - just add alcohol."

hurhur how apt :P

in any case i've resolved the Issues, and it basically goes along the lines of f*** this i care not. i have what i want, and for those that matter they don't care. and those that care don't matter.

tired.murr.

heyyyyyy lyla...

fairly..disturbing events hath come to light, in a way. i guess now i'm kinda stuck trying to figure out what i'm portraying myself as, and its leaving a rather bad taste in my mouth. have i changed all that much since i went into ac? have i pandered to popular opinion so badly? i dont know. they [the ubiquitous they] say you shouldn't bother about what people think of you, but i'm sorry, i can't let that go. it matters to me. and even actions matter, because people keep taking things the wrong way. all the time, without fail. its like it's inborn in us to think the worst of the rest, and never the better or the best things you could think of.
thank you.
/end existential angst.

music of the moment - oasis - the importance of being idle
mood of the moment - disgusted/guilty/disturbed/inadequate

and yet and yet i can condone belarus. why? is there a particular reason why i can actively believe i should give one party a chance, while the other should be brought down by all means necessary?

perhaps it's because one is so entrenched in hopelessness that any chance is welcome, while the other never really got a chance at all to prove their mettle.

too tired and unfeeling to post much. shall move on to mundane things that orbit my brain.

got back late last night after having to port the windshield-shatterer into his room >.< i thought maybe my zoukout-alcohol-competition-win was due to me drinking less than the blur one, but last night proved otherwise. or maybe not. lets see...6 of us. 2 jugs of weak-ish long island tea. 2 more jugs of rather stronger long island tea. 1 vodkaredbull each. tried the cage, realised we were tooo sober ("i'm still registering things! more!" and "you're the hottest girl here but i'm sorry that's not a compliment. it's because the girls here are all fugly!") so back for tequila shots, found a jpflug who bought one more round (thankyou!) and back to dancing and watching the blur one's eyes roll up in his head. *mutter*

but fun all the same. and while waiting for the blur one to come back from the restroom (he didn't, he went out so i waited in vain) an italian guy tried to pick me up 0.0 thoroughly interesting :P

results are on ash wed, 2 pm. this damn wed.

holy mother cow.

we're having panic attacks in the newsroom. i'm breathinging in jacket.

i have never felt this scared in my life.

holy monkey cow.

i'm riled again. it's interesting, that people can become a statistic, that people can be blown up and yet i don't feel as thoroughly annoyed as i do when i find out some irreplaceable part of human history and culture is attacked. perhaps it's because masonry cannot fight back, perhaps it's because humans have been blown up for so long in iraq i have become inured to them. and this is a scary thought: that we have seen such violence for so long and in places so far away that the deaths of many doesn't move one because it doesn't strike home.

maybe this is why those in the united states are so..self-absorbed. they know huge, momentous things are going on in the world around them, but to them these are not huge nor momentous because it doesn't touch the little orbit of their lives physically or on some deepseated, close emotional level. so they trundle along their little ellipsoid, orbiting themselves, dismissing these explosives as "oh some disagreement over some cartoons" or "another suicide attack" without ever -knowing- what they mean, merely verbally purging what they heard on the television, mediated masses that they are.

but back to the point. i am upset that people see fit to strike at people through their beliefs, or symbols of their beliefs. i am just as unhappy over the double standards posed to the muslim world via the cartoons of their prophets while the denunciation of auschwitz is a crime [denouncing that is stupid by the way. are those gas chambers you see in there supposed to be showers?], as i am over the blowing up of the golden dome in iraq to destabilise the shi'ites. its such a puerile way of showing your defiance, like vandalism on a grander scale without the artistic value of graffiti. i'm angry in the way i'm angry over the theft of priceless artifacts from the tombs of dead kings - i'm angry over the loss of culture, the loss of a part of history, the diminishing of who you are and what you are through someone's culpable stupidity or greed and absolute cowardice at attacking people who cannot fight back. and with each life you take, with each monument you bring down, you're reducing yourself [though you can't see it, myopic zeal blinkering you like so many flies during australia's summer], you're losing your cultured mass[es] to the anarchic chaos of warped idealism.

and i am angry over the myopic view of your little, little mind, that you cannot see past the cycle of violence you so cheerfully buy into. and i pity you, that some of you -can- see past that, and yet are trapped because you can see no way out. turning the other cheek in this day and anger will get you killed instead of merely hit, because no one who should subscribes to that view, or if they did, it's long gone now, buried under layers of despairing cynicism and heartbreak, because that's the only way anyone can survive now.

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my life is words, i know now. i depend on words, who flow and shape the world, my world, who weave into a tapestry that lulls me to sleep with its sussurating silence. so when i say those things to you, when i cry and breathe you in with every damn breath because it's never enough, tread softly, because you tread on my dreams

so on to more prosaic things, on to my little orbit of my life because i promised and some people monitor my blog >.< yes, i pulled a 14hour-er, and i pulled a 9-hourer last night as well. catching up on sleep on weekdays...what an impossibility! but nothing's impossible here mm? 'sides, when you're cheerfully nursing a fever at the workplace and falling asleep in front of your comp a la school-wise, sleep is good. murr.

and i thoroughly recommend "rumour has it" simply because shirley maclaine is absolutely hilarious. we nearly died during the movie, and she's just so deadpan about it while delivery absolutely saucy lines. like how she evicts jennifer aniston's fiance from the room after whacking him in the face with the door[i'm not gonna tell you how she does it. i'd spoil it for you]. we were giggling throughout dinner and ben&jerrys. hur.

yes, i know i used "we" in that description. don't practice journalism on me. no, i'm not gonna tell you because i'm feeling mischievous today. (and i keep thinking mischievous should be spelled mischievious because that looks more shneaky. like sneaky. with extra shneak.)

and my previous post was not so much anti-american as anti-absolute-stupidity-and-ridiculous-culpability. i'm not anti-anything except ridiculous lacks-in-judgementitis and blind-zealotry and evangelism. 'specially evangelism.

and i'm moving to neurovore.blogspot.com. starting next post. because discombobulating is fun, but neurovoring, especially creating other neurovores, is better.

Between the pedestals of night and morning,
Between red death and radiant desire,
With not one sound of triumph or warning,
Stands the great sentry on the bridge of fire,
O transient soul, thy thought with dreams adorning,
Cast down the laurel, and unstring the lyre:
The wheels of time are turning, turning, turning,
The slow stream channels deep and doth not tire.
Gods on their bridge above,
Whispering lies and love,
Shall mock your passage down the sunless river,
Which, rolling all it streams,
Shall take you, King of dreams
- Unthroned and unapproachable forever -
To where the kings who dreamed of old
Whiten in habitations monumental cold.

-James Elroy Flecker

i will greet you with poems, and put you to sleep with dreams. you will wake with butterfly kisses and haunting refrains in your eyes.

Estimated amount of glucose used by an adult human brain each day, expressed in M&Ms: 250
-- Harper's Index, October 1989

and the best thing is, that's just your brain! ^^

i slept for 14 hours yesterday. more on that later.

what angers me is that brazen headline announcing that the us and israel are making no effort to hide the fact that they are plotting the downfall of hamas. set aside the israel-palestine issue for the moment - what i have to say is not about who's right and left and running down the roadmap, but about who's trampling on the vintage of the grapes of due process and international law. and it's not hard to see who that is.

for the purposes of this argument, i don't care who blew up what and who killed who [sounds like the holy grail, monty python or otherwise], but its just that if you so happily encouraged democratic elections and yet hoped that the people you like come to power, doesn't that put you along the lines of somalia and congo and other rigged election states? if you say, yes, we support democracy, but you turn against the people who came to power by democratic means, aren't you turning back on your word? does your word mean nothing, your plaudits and pundits who laud your move into iraq and planting of the democratic shrub mere background noise against your own petty will?

evidently yes.

and the best thing is that you style yourself the "bastion of freedom and human rights". i just read this transcript of a bbc interview with mary robinson, the ex-un commissioner for human rights, and she notes that what the us does, the world will follow because they think that that's the new standard, or excuse themselves that way. but it's not. it's just that the us binds itself to international law, but these paper chains only hold when they suit the us. otherwise they are summarily disregarded, like in the case of guantanamo. the problem arises when others cheerfully ape these new "standards" and point to the us saying "but the standards have changed". they haven't. and neither has the us. they have never learned that while you may be above the law in terms of no-one-can-force-you-to-do-anything, you aren't above the common law, the law of the people, the law of the street, the land of public opinion. and, usa, you've condemned yourself there. you aren't the knight in shining armour, you aren't an inspiration to cast off the chains of dictatorial oppression, and you sure as hell aren't making any friends. your duplicity is the fodder for dictators, your plotting the fuel for frenzy, and you've given yourself the slack to hang from the scaffold of troubles you have aggravated.

why can't you wait? sinn fein managed peace in ireland, after the democratic process that ran its course. why can't you wait? when it's entirely possible they could discredit themselves. yes, you want them to discredit themselves, but your haste to help them will trip you. they can blame it on you, and they will. and it's back to square one, back to the drawing board, back home to die.

so this is your legacy. "you will have democracy, but democracy on my terms." and that is no democracy at all.

we're building spaceports. we're building spaceports. i can't believe it.

and all you disgruntled people who whine about cross-compatibility, you win. i have to do it anyways so i can see it from work >P be gruntled.

things to do today: click on your archive links, and read a few of your old posts. quite fascinating.

and OOH OOH CHECK OUT FOR2008!!! ON TEHCLASSBLOG!!!

..take me down to the paradise city
where the grass is green and the girls are pretty
oh, won't you please take me home..

music of the moment - guns n roses - paradise city. the guitar.
mood of the moment - phwaorexhausted. MRAOWR.

well since i've managed to get the damn thing up and running (and bugger off if you're complaining that it's not cross-browser-compatible. i'll drown you in wood shavings until you have a hernia.) i should probably post something.

how about: i haven't seen my family for dinner for nearly this whole week. work et al. hazardous pursuits...and tiring too. how about: i stayed up till 3.45am on sunday getting this right? and woke up 4 hours later to go play at church! w00t! ohshitimgonnadie.

valentines day was thoroughly amusing/nauseating. if you look at the escalator to the esplanade, you see people walking off the escalator in twos. and if you go onto the rooftop or walk down by the esplanade near the water, you can't move for couples. at least, there's 1 pair at every metre of wall. bleargh.

and yes, i went to mos, and yes i got thoroughly sloshed. in my defence, it was tzesiew's jug of "negotiated" long island tea that did me in. 2 people sharing a jug of extremely strong long island tea is impossible. never again. i never never want to lose control again. not something i'm proud of. so now you know.

incidentally while i was coding the damn thing, this quote came up:

'The fascination of shooting as a sport depends almost wholly on whether you are at the right or wrong end of the gun.'
-- P. G. Wodehouse

considering cheny's adventures with potshots, this is thoroughly apt.

murrrrrrr.

oh nevermind solving these problems is supremely satisfying hur

btw if anyone can fix the overflow problem i'd be really really grateful

cessante ratione legis cessat ipsa lex

sunday morning rain is falling
steal some covers share some skin
clouds are shrouding us in moments unforgettable
you twist to fit the mold that I am in..

its jazzy. great chords. probably the best maroon 5 song. our song, mm?

music of the moment - maroon 5 - sunday moment morning
mood of the moment - mm content.

i went through my old stuff, and gods i didn't know i could write like this. it's like when you go through your gp essays after the exam and go, i wrote this?

in a good or bad way.

btw. stuff to know:
gelem - "raw material", in hebrew, the surmised root word of golem.
zeroth - the absolute first, ultimate
myelin sheaths are the fatty insulation around the nerves and neurones, that facilitate the transmission of impulses along the nerves


somatic markers
your generation is fed
on birth control, rock and roll
and bytes of a bygone era
when gripping trees was the only exercise we had for our
fingers, that now grasp canes and tremble
helplessly, in the face of the internet.

you say you know of iraq, and reel
off statutes, figures and names on your
fingers that wave so confidently with your
arrogance (it seems almost blinding,
your transition from gelem to golem that
i bet you can't see the gleam
you have become of a machine)
it's in your eyes.

i bet you can't feel when the images
flicker past you like so many pictures
you see in the papers (but you always turn to the funnies
don't you?)
carnage flickers past quickly, filed into storage, ready for
recall, but really, they mean nothing to one accustomed in thinking
in ones and zeroeths. (the computer thinks not of its files, it just
is).
emotions, hah! an anachronism
in the 30th century! and the world today is
fastfastfast, we want speedspeed, more t1, t2, t3
gigabytes of information pouring down thy eyes -
from truth to death,
you know everything, and yet you know nothing.

you know not of the rain on your face, or the joy it is to
run free, or the power that a tree's crown can give you.
your sunlight only falls on your face, only your mind runs
free[d] in your mind on the information superhighway,
and your thicket-thorn of viruses stops all traffic.
progress is a good thing, we shall not miss the old,
you say, with quiet confidence
and who are we to argue with the future?
your jungle is concretized, your seabed electrified
we are interconnected
and that is good.

you will not miss us, we are the misshapen clay.
creators shall go back to the shadows, you are the next
step in a world that cloned dolly,
you myelinated sheaths overrule our emotional heartbeat,
cogitational machinery rules the world.
we are your fastfast-frankenstein, your stitched-together zombie
we are what you made us,
and we will rule the world we built,
plugged-in, spell-bound,
and numb.


music of the moment - gavin degraw - chariot
mood of the moment - mildly pensive. mm. it's the musick