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Friday, December 31, 2004 If God is a Tsunami They're piled up like a heap of rubbish on their way to the incineration plant. Rafa: What is your opinion of God? Ross: Hmm....well sometimes I think God's playing games. Because if you're that powerful. That ever-present. What else could you be doing? If all that you ever want is fulfilled, won't you grow bored? If all that exists comes from you, you're all alone. All else you create is just a part of you. It'll never be equal to another individual. Not someone at your level. Rafa: What if God is a Tsunami? or an earthquake? Ross: Well I suppose anything is possible. But I refuse to believe it. If it's true then tsunami shouldn't be a random event. It should occur someplace where bad people die. Where arseholes drown and die a horrible death. Hah, I'm not much of a saint myself eh for wishing that? What if God is an atomic bomb? Man's capability to do evil personified? Won't that be ironic? If God can manifest itself in the form of a miracle (assuming there's one), can't it manifest itself as accidents too? Rafa: I don't want to die by a tsunami. Do you want? I don't want to die by anything Ross: Hahaha you just don't want to die Rafa: I don't fear death, she's always running in my shoes (I don't know if this is a Brazillian proverb of some sort or a figure of speech or a lyric to a song...sounds like something someone might sing in a song to me though) but I don't want to die. Ah, who wants to die? Ross: If I were to die, I think I want to choose my own timing. Heck, that sounds like a suicide. In any case I don't want to die now. :: Rafa: what's the difference between society and jail? Ross: Jail offers no freedom Rafa: And society offers? hahaha are you kidding? There's no difference Ross: There's a difference. Rafa: You are only free when you die Ross: assuming we go someplace else when we die. Assuming death isn't the end. Rafa: if death is the end, we are free too. Ross: but if death is the end, we won't know it, will we? So what's the difference? Live your life because noone will die your death. Raul Seixas said that. I haven't even met him and I like the guy already. Channel 5 won't be airing the new year's eve celebration at Sentosa in light of the recent tsunami attack. But you know what? That won't make a bloody ounce of a difference. The show's probably crap anyway. Eighty one thousands. That's a lot of bodies. Grinning Goat at 12/31/2004 01:18:00 AM pontificated | {buzzz out} Dedel is the man I receive this christmas card today. Probably my favourite christmas card yet. On it is written: Kartu ini bener-bener nggak bermutu. Gambarnya jelek. Tulisannya jelek. Kemahalan lagi. Kartu jelek -----cocok------orang jelek ......JAdi gua beli!!! Translated as: This card is trully substandard. The pictures ugly. The handwriting horrendous. And it's too expensive. Crappy card -----goes with------crappy person. .......so I bought it!!! And to add to that, Dedel wrote: This is a card i bought specially for you. Told you. Dedel is the man! Grinning Goat at 12/31/2004 01:12:00 AM pontificated | {buzzz out} Wednesday, December 29, 2004 God is Brazillian Something my friend said today: No earthquake ever hits Brazil. God must be Brazillian. God is Brazillian. God is Jew. God is African. But is God a christian? Is God a catholic? Is God a moslem? Is God a buddhist? Until that becomes clear, noone is to point any fingers. Keep your fingers to yourself. That's what pockets in coats are for. Anybody ever tells you that? Grinning Goat at 12/29/2004 04:51:00 AM pontificated | {buzzz out} Owlie and her blabber Yesterday we were at Mc. Donalds (Owlie had one of her cravings for unhealthy, artery-blocking food). Owlie: You cleared the whole table? R: Yea, it's the civic-mindedness thing... Owlie: No, it's your maid-instinct thing... Grinning Goat at 12/29/2004 04:36:00 AM pontificated | {buzzz out} What happens at the kitchen Jamming can lengthen my life span. And I'll live to a ripe old age. A couple of things I'm looking forward to. Not in that order. 1. The gig at the Munchie Monkey. It's postponed to 6th of January. 8 pm. Be there folks! (They have a very valid reason for the postponement but we were just being dumb, knowing it at such a late date) 2. New Year's eve party at Ben's house. I don't like parties in general but I think it's going to be a blast with my siblings and neighbours around because they aren't exactly strangers. Third floor flocks rocks. (Ha! it rhymes) 3. The Hall Production. I think I'll sit there like a proud parent on his son's first day of school. Sitting on the fence until the security guard frowns intensely or the fence collapses, whichever comes first. Yeap, it'll probably feel like that. Okay after going round telling you stories I should probably be out with it. I'm here to sell tickets. Hall Production tickets anyone? Saturday, 29th January 2005 Morning Glory - A Kent Ridge Hall Production $15 (inclusive 5% GST!) University Cultural Centre 7.30 pm There's nothing like it. Okay I'm not trying to rip you off here by bulshitting my way through because I think it's going to be good. The music is original down to the very last background music. And the musicians are all talented people. I have to give it to them. And my pitch-perfect neighbour, she's superb. (And no, I don't bootlick - I have no reason to, heh - read the scroll on top of this page) As for the cast and ensemble, some aren't born singers. But with some polishing they'll do fine. We just need to wait until they get real sick with the songs and everything will be alright. Because that's when they remember every single notes, rhythm, beats and expressions. Your $15 bucks would be well spent. No money back guarantee because noone will want their 15 bucks back! Grinning Goat at 12/29/2004 04:06:00 AM pontificated | {buzzz out} Tuesday, December 28, 2004 What it shouldn't be What it shouldn't be: The death of one man is a tragedy, the death of millions is a statistic. Don't talk about millions, talk about 23000. Talk about the 4500 people in Banda Aceh alone who won't make it for tomorrow's breakfast. The number of mourners who probably more than doubles the number. Death is death. The pain will always linger regardless the death toll. The death of millions may be a ststistic, but it's a tragedy too. In fact, it always is. Holocaust. Natural disaster victims. The death of one man however, is not always a tragedy. Calling a deserving death a tragedy is hard. It's hard to swallow. Joseph Stalin is wrong. Grinning Goat at 12/28/2004 02:48:00 AM pontificated | {buzzz out} Sunday, December 26, 2004 The source My friend's translation of something he read about the birth of Jesus. I shall make no attempt to correct it for you, for fear of distorting anything unintentionally. It is said that: It seems incredible, but the choice of the date does not have nothing to see with the birth of Jesus. The Romans had used to advantage an important heathen party carried through by return of day 25 of December and "they cristianizaram" the date for the first time, commemorating the birth of Jesus in year 354. To such heathen party, called Natalis Solis Invicti ("birth of the invincible sun"), it was a homage to the Persian god Miter, popular in Rome. The commemorations happened during the winter solstice, the day shortest of the year. In the hemisphere north, the solstice does not have fixed date - it costuma to be next to 22 of December, but can even fall in day 25. The origin of the date is this, but it will be that Jesus really was born in the period of year end? The specialists doubt. "Between the scholars of the New Will and the origins of the Christianity, it is consensus that it was not born in 25 of December", he affirms the scientist of the religion Carlos Caldas, of the Mackenzie University, in São Paulo. In the Bible, the evangelista Lucas affirms that Jesus was born at the time of a great census, that compelled the people to leave the field and to go to the cities if to sign up. Only that, in December, the winters in the region of Israel are rigorous, hindering a great displacement of people. "Also because of the cold, it does not give to imagine a boy being born in one would estrebaria. Exactly there inside, the cold would be mortal in December ", says Caldas. The most likely one is that the birth has occurred between March and November, when the climate in the Middle East is more hot. R: So where do you read that from? Rafa: This magazine. Mundo Estranho. Strange World Ah, the world's strange indeed. Wow three posts now. Must be very very important quote! Grinning Goat at 12/26/2004 02:55:00 AM pontificated | {buzzz out} Correction. It was Louis XVI who said that, not Henry-no-number. Two posts just for that quote. Must be some very important quote! Grinning Goat at 12/26/2004 02:47:00 AM pontificated | {buzzz out} All the wise man Okay. A clarification. According to a friend of mine. 25th of December WASN'T the day Jesus was born. That's a false belief. (Heh but I don't know if that means Jesus was born on the 1st of January. Wait, does Jesus exist? Murdering someone for having a different opinion is not a religious act. Heh) 25th of December was a day designated as a festival to celebrate some God (he forgot what God). Not Jesus. How it ended up as the birth-day (birthday just has this inappropriate connotations I think) of Jesus, it baffles me too. A saying by one of the French King, Henry__ (he forgot what number - yes, that was exactly what he told me.) Listen up, because there might just be truth behind it. "All the people need is bread and circus" Grinning Goat at 12/26/2004 02:22:00 AM pontificated | {buzzz out} Christmas speciale? I don't think Christmas is about the birth of Jesus. See, the A.D and B.C dating system, that is based on the birth of Jesus. So if 1st January 0000 i.e 1 January A.D is the day Jesus is born, and hence the end of the term B.C - before Christ , how can 25th of December be the birth of Jesus?? Is 25th of December but a random date set for the sake of convenience? Or should the 25 th of December be the first A.D day?? Hmmmm... Nobody was asking me if I should do a Christmas special here. (not nobody as in noone but nobody as in my reader who's linked on the right) You know, now that he mentioned it, I am going to try something, just not today. (which hopefully doesn't defeat the purpose, but then again I don't even believe Christmas is about the birth of the Holy One) Christmas is just that time of the year when we ask, would everybody make it for dinner? The asshole is screwed up, isn't he? Do you think we should just leave the mess for a while and worry tomorrow and the answer is yes, yes and yes. No unwanted guests (I don't invite assholes, I invite their maid to come and cook. Haha. Just kidding). Decent music in the background. Plenty of artery-blocking, diabetes-inducing heart-attack precursor that probably destroys your liver too. Yeap, plenty of reasons to be full and happy. Yet no reasons to get fat. We ate anyway. The first Christmas with just the four of us on the table. With a couple of friends who helped to brighten things up, not that the four of us isn't noisy enough. One thing about my neighbour. We didn't really talk to them much. But there's this one time the auntie sent us chilli sauce she was making because she made too much of it when mom wasn't around. And yesterday, Wedy thought it'd be nice to give her some of our log cake (one of the sinful things we engage in). Ono: Ci, say happy new year too... R: Okay. :: R/Wedy/Ono: Here's a little bit of something... Merry christmas! Auntie: oh...oh.....thank you.... :: Ono: You didn't say happy new year R: Well so didn't you Ono: I thought you were gonna say it. R: Does it matter? :: So yea, HAPPY NEW YEAR everybody. {with the emphasis on the happy and not the new year because that's the least of our problems :) } The auntie might look all dazed yesterday but wow our well-wishing speech must be awesome (or the cake superb - there's that too) that she got us curry puffs today. Home-made. Fresh from the oven. Without the recipe. Family secret. And the debate over whether the yellow stuff on our fridge is margarine or butter, on our last ditch attempt to whip up some apple pie for desserts. It says, "I can't believe it's not butter" on the cover and kaka thought, then it must be butter. As in, it's so -oh my my - healthy that it couldn't possibly be butter. But nah, shouldn't it be margarine? As in, it tastes sooo like butter I can't believe it's not butter. Heh. What do you think folks? I think the next time some smart aleck in the advertising industry comes up with something like that, they should just choke on a pretzel and take the last train home. And the card game. We call it tepok nyamuk (which literally means hitting a mosquito). They call it heart attack. It's comforting to know that someone out there in this universe is slower than me in reaction time. Haha. The last time I played this with Buika and Dedel on movie marathon night (and the loser drank a dozen gulps of water) I ended up busying myself with my own business, I didn't know what really happened to Ryan except about him being saved, in Saving Private Ryan. One of Kaka's friend was such a great hit with the game - excuse the pun - that the game ended the moment she came out of the toilet. As for tomorrow. Tomorrow's the Rocker's gathering. I decided not to come. The least thing I want to do on Christmas in to try to fit in. Or watch people trying to fit in. It sickens me. Water will always be water. Oil will always be oil, eh? There'll never be a carbon on H2O. Pigs'll never fly. Owlie said, but there are cliques wherever you go (and whether I like it or not, I presume is the appropriate ending for that sentence) True. But I am in the position to choose. Whether to put myself in that situation. And if the alternative is lazing around, putting my feet on the table, screaming to Ono, will he please please hit the referee in the game so he can be disqualified and end the game so I can play something else, then hey I'm more than happy to pick the latter. That was no option. Because the latter would always look better to me. Even with instant noodle on the table. Especially with instant noodle on the table because then I don't have to drag my ass down to buy em. We felt like karaokeing too. Except that the mic is busted and Owlie thought Nobody (not nobody nobody...heh this is hard to explain. Why did you pick that name, Andre??) was singing the song when noone was because the mic's busted. I'm not talking in circles. This is the most unhealthy Christmas that we have. Ah but what the heck. I'll worry tomorrow. Grinning Goat at 12/26/2004 01:04:00 AM pontificated | {buzzz out} Thursday, December 23, 2004 Three chords and the truth Went jamming yesterday with Rosli and Ad. And holly cow, we were quite quite efficient actually. (Hmm..maybe Dang was too playful to do any serious practising) And before Rosli came, I tried my hands on the guitar. Vocalist-rhythm-guitarist. Heh. Ad playing lead. Ross: hey don't mind me, I'll probably be crap at the singing or the playing. Can't do both at the same time. Ad: You're crap at both. I have to admit I am. Heh. Either the strumming went berserk. or my singing went awry. But I suppose with someone who said something in a matter-of-fact way, it didn't offend me. In fact, when Ad told Rosli that I can sing soul (although he's never even heard me sing a single soul song in his life), it was quite flattering. The best compliment is never intentional. Anyway, the Munchie Monkey created quite a ruckus because people always get it wrong. PJ, for one thought all along that it's the Crunchie Monkey. Never name a cafe something weird. Or rather, name a cafe something weird that people can relate to. I mean, munchie monkey? Munching monkey? Oh and we'll be doing Downtown too. The original version without the background vocal. I suggested Velvet Revolver's Fall to Pieces but Rosli was like, what?? Obviously he's more of a Petula Clark kind of guy. That was quite a fun song to sing Downtown was. Somehow I thought it has a certain Julie Andrews quality to it. Like something she'd sing, but a little more on the funky side. Right. As for the fourth song, I was suggesting to Rosli - through sms - that we do Uncle Cracker's Follow Me. Ross: Hey I just thought of something. Let's do Uncle Cracker's Follow mE. What do you think? Rosli: Alamak. I never hear the title before. Ross: Hahaha. I'm sure you've heard it before. It goes, "Follow me and everything's alright. I'll be the one who tuck you in at night..." Rosli: Wow. A singing sms hahaha :) Just lacking in the sound amplification department. Grinning Goat at 12/23/2004 04:38:00 PM pontificated | {buzzz out} Wednesday, December 22, 2004 When the choice is no choice at all For a country that denounces monopoly and is promoting free trade, Singapore the pot isn't doing all too well in the calling-the-kettle-black department. Tv stations. You have plenty of options what..., so said the idiot. Channel 5. Channel 8. Channel Newsasia. Central. Surya. Except that they are under the same parent company. Channel U. Channel i. Except that with the merger with SPH, they would be under the same parent company. Alright, tv station is nothing much eh? Moving on... Newspapers Today. Streats. Except that with the merger, the Streats would be incorporated into Today so they would be under the same parent company. You see the pattern here? Not exactly checkered or polka dots but clear enough I believe. So saying we have an option is just silly because the choice is no choice at all. You ended up watching the same thing. It's like asking Africans...so do you wanna eat the hamburger, chicken or oats ? when there's only oats. And the danger with this is that, it's easier to brainwash people. Not everybody's sharp enough to read different newspapers at one go much less foreign publications, so it's easy to control public opinions once you control the mainstream newspapers/newsbroadcasters. Well of course technically, you can subscribe to foreign publications here. You can subscribe to cables. But that, not surprisingly at all come at a higher price. Am I detecting an attempt at social engineering here? The poor - probably the most unhappy lot around - would, under normal circumstances not buy the Time magazine or subscribe to HBO. Keeps them in line, doesn't it? Brilliant I'd say. Much as we proclaim otherwise, we can't handle competition all that well. A rival company comes up with something smart. Imitate! A rival company gaining more favour with the consumers. Buy it over, Merge! Of course I don't major in Business nor did I take econs (3 months of econs shouldn't count I think) so what I say may be entirely false. But hey, surely you're not blind enough to the fact that some form of monopoly is still quite quite prevalent around here? Grinning Goat at 12/22/2004 04:24:00 AM pontificated | {buzzz out} Tuesday, December 21, 2004 Superficial Confidence is superficial. You can be crap at something and still be confident. Are you confident of winning the race? Yea, I'm very confident. Very confident my arse if he's in a shitty form. Not that winning or losing has much to do with being confident. It's not the result that counts, it's the probability of having a certain outcome that matters. Problem is, sometimes it's not even proportional to the level of confidence. If anything, it's an indication of how big an ego you have. You know people can tell me the wrong notes and sounded like Pavarotti giving me free tuition. Whitney Houston in town. Heh. It's smart-asses like these that make public opinion has a new ring to it. Majority synchronises. Who are you to say it's C when almost everybody else tell you it's C#? Get your note straight, then come back to me sounding like Pavarotti. Grinning Goat at 12/21/2004 02:52:00 PM pontificated | {buzzz out}
It's just going to be the four of us this Christmas. And that's what makes it crappy. Not that they're not great or anything, but it's just crap when only two out of six is here. It's all wrong. Some seats are empty. I probably shouldn't whine at my age. But I'm actually a chicken shit. I don't like them travelling back and forth. Murphy may be one pessimistic assholic bastard but he can be right sometimes and that scares the hell out of me. And unlike anger, fear can't be dissipated just by writing. If it's down to them or me, let me be struck by lightning. I need some optimism in my life. Grinning Goat at 12/21/2004 01:38:00 AM pontificated | {buzzz out} Monday, December 20, 2004 Boys and dinosaurs I just got a hair cut. It was one of those hair-cuts done by those eccentric-looking hair-dressers who just snipped your hair without the slightest hint of doubt, like they're so sure that their haphazard handling of the hair would leave their clientele feeling nothing less than satisfied. Hmmm I was, for a start. Because for once it looked different from when I just went in. He did some serious cutting so my head doesn't look as flat as it was. is. Heh. A hair-cut that Biwi would tell me is worth spending my money on, although I'm not so sure. The last argument we had on hair-cut was about whether anybody should look different after a hair-cut for the service to be worth the money. She said it bloody has to look different. I told her what's the point of cutting if it makes you look different, look silly. And she ended her argument with a Don't waste your money, Ross. Anyway, have I told you how much I hate the Saturday and Sunday crowds? The street's suffocating enough for an asthmatic to drop dead. And perhaps it's the suffocating environment that made us have such weird conversation. R & KK: Ono, don't behave like a girl Ono: I'm surrounded by four ladies everyday, what do you expect? R: Well, it's not our fault if you grow up to be a sissy. I'm sure he won't, by the way. For a start I don't show him how to play with Barbie. And the shoving competition when we're about to step out of the MRT. There's this stinking old bloke who blocked the door. He just stood there, unmoving, oblivious to the traffic. And my mom was all ben dan ben dan after that. I love it when adults call names. You cuntface. You asshole. Okay, maybe ben dan isn't half as bad but it's a start. It dissolves the boundary. Parenthood meets normalcy. (I think it's normal to want to curse someone and to actually do it. Better than murder eh? If anybody who feels like killing someone just swear his breath off, he wouldn't end up with murder on his hands) I just finished reading Divorcing Jack by the way. And if you must know, Divorcing Jack has nothing to do with Jack or a divorce. It has a lot to do with a hearing problem, if you believe that. Again, I need to commend Colin Bateman. His plot may not be as brilliant as Michael Chrichton or as full of action as Matthew Reilly but it's full of wit - not in the Shakespeare's kind of way. Couldn't stop laughing. Maybe I was rather bias but I'm starting to think that Irish make fine writers, at least in the humour department. Frank Mc.Court. Colin Bateman. Hmmm I am way way off from what I wanted to talk about today. Let me start over. Ono's obesession with the X-Box was almost almost like this guy's obsession with dinosaurs. When I was in primary school and the teacher made us sit with people we couldn't really talk to, just so that peace prevailed you understand. My bench partner was this guy named Eric (yea, spelled just like this guy in Owlie's class she said looks like me. So I look masculine? he looks feminine? I haven't got an answer to that up until now. Her last line was if that makes you feel better. If that makes me feel better. It doesn't.) Well, to say that Eric was obsessed with dinosaurs was quite simply put, an understatement. Everytime I couldn't read something on the board because I was under the delusion that I had a normal eyesight when I didn't and looked over my shoulder to see what he's writing, I would see a dinosaur doodle. The next minute, I would peek again and saw a different species of dinosaur. Over time I just had to come to terms with his doodles and squinted my already-small-as-they-are eyes to see the board. And I refused to learn all the names he had for all his doodles. I wondered if those were the real scientific terms although I probably wouldn't know the difference back then. They all looked the same to me. So, Eric what do you want to be when you grow up? A paleontologist, he said convincingly. Hmmm, I nodded my head. And as soon as I got back home, I took out my dictionary to check what it meant, except that I forgot the word and ended up eating bread with strawberry jam. I loved strawberry jam. And there's this one time when he asked me in the middle of class, out of nowhere. If God can give you a continent for yourself, which would you pick? I remember answering Asia. Why? Because it's the biggest. He picked Africa. Why? It has the most animals, so it must've had the most number of dinosaurs back in the old days. Obsessed I'm telling you. I was obsessed with size. He was obsessed with his dinosaurs. I don't really know the point in telling you all this. I think it's passion. It's good to know what you want to do at such tender age. And to doodle peacefully, not bothering to squint to see the board. Good doodle, Eric. Good doodle. I wish I save some of his doodles. The dino looks the same. Only he thought they're different. Ah, bringing a new meaning to the phrase beauty is in the eye of the beholder isn't it? Grinning Goat at 12/20/2004 03:09:00 PM pontificated | {buzzz out} Saturday, December 18, 2004 New uploads I'll be busy today. No decent post. But, there's something new at SneakPeek. Do check it out guys! And oh, one more thing. I am considering putting songs to my blog. But that's not a very good idea, is it? becase it always irritates the hell out of me when someone do that and I ended up rushing just so that I can get out of the webpage/website/blog fast. What do you think? We probably won't ever agree on one thing on the choice of songs anyway. Grinning Goat at 12/18/2004 02:44:00 AM pontificated | {buzzz out} Friday, December 17, 2004 They look dumb You know how some people just look really dumb? They sound dumb too, until you get them to talk about something they're really acquinted with. No, I am not writing this post to rant, in fact I'm here to praise. Cheers for me everybody. Heh. When I said something they're acquinted with, I'm not saying something stupid. I mean something err...constructive. A field, if you can call it. But see, the problem with sales assistant looking dumb is that you don't really talk to them much, you just go buy your stuff and move on. You're not there long enough to listen to them giving you long analysis of a film, a football match or whatever. You just ended up thinking they're dumb, especially when they give you the wrong soup when you're done ordering. Heh. Grinning Goat at 12/17/2004 04:14:00 AM pontificated | {buzzz out} Thursday, December 16, 2004 Gunbound fever starts again? It wasn't my fault, really. See...Owlie asked me if I had any game. And I said yea, so can she please borrow the game? That wouldn't be possible. Why? Because it's stuck in my notebook, I just downloaded it and left the CD at home. Huhh?? (her characteristic huh) what does that mean? That means I can play but you can't, unless you play in my notebook.... So do you know of any online game?... And that was how it started. So. While I was playing in my notebook and Owlie was playing in her notebook which was very near since she stayed exactly opposite me and we were shouting instructions at each other over who to kill first, Ben came along. Owlie: (shouting of course) hey ross, Ben's playing as me. Ross: whoaa...okay :: :: Owlie: (strolling into my room from the toilet, catching me snickering over my notebook) What happened? Ross: (pointing at my screen) look at that, rach228 suddenly becomes somewhat erhh...unladylike... On the screen : Rach228 :HUAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA Ah. This fever will pass soon. I think. Grinning Goat at 12/16/2004 04:13:00 AM pontificated | {buzzz out} Tuesday, December 14, 2004 The origin of prejudice or the origin of religions? "Every major religion incorporates the blatant discrimination of women into their beliefs. If God, Jesus, Allah, Muhammad, whoever, made only MAN in his image, and decreed the other gender to have less worth than the gender made in the deity's image, then all religions who have their GOD figure represented as a male, are bigoted religions." "If your GOD condones the subservience of one gender of human being, to another gender who has different body parts and a slightly different DNA code, then why wouldn't it be acceptable to expect subservience from other people with slightly different DNA codes? Why wouldn't that initial concept of subservience apply itself to those who have different lifestyles? Different styles of dress? Different religions?" Medbh wrote that. Do read what she wrote because it's going to be relevant to my post here. I thought that's an interesting concept. But the concept is explained under the assumption that all religions have a "male" God. Which may not be true - it depends on her knowledge of what encompasses "all religions in the world". Secondly, it kinds of absolve free thinkers - who believe in a faceless, nameless (and sexless) God -from prejudice, which is not true. I believe it's only human nature to want to distinguish others from ourselves because our sense of self-identity is often built upon that distinction. And once we start distinguishing others, it just becomes easy to start judging and once the judging starts, it becomes easier still to like or dislike someone. But that's just my opinion. Okay, going back to this concept of origin of prejudice, I think we need to factor in saints/prophets as well (after all the Muhammad she mentioned, is a prophet, not a God) and we do have female saints. She's saying that the image of a male God projected by different religions is the origin of prejudice, that we have this tendency to discriminate against others because our religion has a male God and not female, that God condones gender discrimination. But God being projected as male is a far cry from God condoning discrimination. (check the holy books). Some religions teach that we need to respect one another for example, and I don't see how 'one another' excludes the females. And what if, prejudice comes first? What if it comes before the emergence of religions? What if people in the past projected the image of their God as male because their society was patriarchal? In a way, God was presented as a 'male' for the sake of convenience, because it was the most logical way of doing things at the time? (There aren't really explanations for prejudice). The concept is intriguing nonetheless. Something that got me thinking. Grinning Goat at 12/14/2004 06:40:00 PM pontificated | {buzzz out} Monday, December 13, 2004 Bloody shit don't worth a damn I had a hard time, truly I had. And all I had to do was translate. Something which I have to do continuously, unconsciously in my head when I switch language. And it's signed of by the Managing-fuckin-director. When I had a hard time it's possibly because: 1) the language is too deep; 2)the language is too poor. And I had hard time convincing myself that it's the latter. Horrible horrible language. You'd think a managing director is capable of something better. Okay, take it that the secretary wrote the letter. It wouldn't improve my opinion of him because: why would he hire an incompetent secretary in the first place? For one thing, writing in a such horrid way can cause misunderstandings which, need I remind you, may cost people millions in a business dealing. You know with a bad writer, it falls on the interpreter's shoulder to set the record straight, try to fathom intentions, read between the lines if you will (although I wonder what is there to read sometimes) and avoid sounding derogatory or stupid to the listener when the writer doesn't mean to (but he did). The thing is, when we start to change those things, we tend to focus on the linguistic aspect too much and the message the writer's trying to convey is changed. Now, that's not interpreting anymore, that's what I call: a mixture of vocal plagiarism with a personal opinion injected unintentionally. Only one thing to do to get things right: Get a new managing director. Everybody agreeable? And oh first swimming training today and my muscle's aching when it's not supposed too. This can only mean: I've had a good (too much) bumming around. Time to work out those muscles. Heh. Grinning Goat at 12/13/2004 03:09:00 PM pontificated | {buzzz out} Munchie Monkeys I think I have a thing for writing at ungodly hours. Heh. I just finished figuring out this song for tomorrow's vocal practice. You know how some people just think they're smarter than you and have this air around them? Well, my figuring out the song is to squash what resistance those air-heads put up. And no, they aren't THAT smart. Yet. I'd acknowledge one when I see it. My PC has its way of screwing up too, which is why I have to reformat it ever so often. No more junkies. I'm downloading anti-virus now, firewall and all. Heh. Anyway, for the new year's eve, I'm going to be performing at the Munchie Monkeys, for you monkeys who wonder where on earth is the munchie monkeys, it's at the Yusof Ishak House - yes, that'd be at NUS. You're welcome to watch. Although I doubt you will because it's the new year's eve and what would you be doing at Munchie Monkeys -such a sad place? Okay seeing how this download is still 24% - still a longgggggggg way to go - i might as well tell you this story. An acquintance of my father was asking for suggestions from my father. Err..since I didn't hear it first hand, this conversation is actually imaginary but you'll get the gist of it(or if you don't, you can go back to kindergarten for your long over-due reading class) AP: My son's sitting for his A Level this year. I'm sure he will be able to go to the university, so I'm wondering which university to pick. What do you think? Dad: Well, personally I........ AP: I told my son 'Whichever university you go to doesn't matter, what matters is the people you spend you time with while you're there......you know, friends who have some backings.....Those of a different breed who don't just blend with the common people...' Dad: Hmmm.... AP: Yea, connections are important. A degree means nothing if you can't find a job because you don' have enough connections. You need people in high places, people whom you can ask favours from - valuable favours, just not ay favours- people who can get you the job you need, and advance significantly too....... In other words, let me simplify it for you: RICH PEOPLE. Make them your RICH FRIENDS Heh. I think after this it doesn't matter what my father say anymore. Make rich people your friends.........Oooohhhhhh this is the kind of thing that will kill Oprah -although she's probably a pseudo-philanthropist herself. What say you, my dear readers? With people like that you might want to pretend to be living under some bridge just so that you can shake them doggies at your feet. Jesus. It's not like you can separate the rich from the nots, unless you happen to meet those kinds who think they're above everybody else and hence above reproach and above the law - pretty obvious to our naked, myopic eyes. But if you do, why would you think they would want to blend with us the common folks? Unless we're not common folks -I'm pretty sure the son of this particular acquintace of my father is a common folk like the rest of us - but if we aren't, it would eliminate the need to blend in the first place. So why bother? Heh, what am I saying? It's a foolish thing to be teaching your kids. The value of his advice? I shall leave it to your discretion. Some of you might think it's brilliant. By all means, adopt his advice, it's none of my business. But to teach your kids that? Hah that can be the death of you, mark my words. Imagine my father's acquintance declaring bankrupcy (hey, that may not be such a bad thing, it has a certain entertainment value, don't you think?) and the son thinking "Gosh, daddy's going to surrender his money to the government...no money....no assets...A money-making daddy is useful but a money-less one? one without the look, without connections -imagine where they all go, the way he's picking his friends like he did - time to go and say ciao" Let's just wait til that day comes. Good show must not be missed. Okay well, it's 98% now. Time for me to go. See you at the Munchie Monkeys. Grinning Goat at 12/13/2004 03:25:00 AM pontificated | {buzzz out} Saturday, December 11, 2004 AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH You know how a paint brush look like after you dip it in ink? Well, that's the state my head is in now. Like I've been dipped in a jar of ink. But, hey someone did it for me so I'm not complaining. And no, I'm not being sarcastic. Really. Grinning Goat at 12/11/2004 11:01:00 PM pontificated | {buzzz out} Thursday, December 09, 2004 A trap I wrote this some time ago but I didn't publish it because it was written in a moment of frustration and I publish it now with slight modification that comes from a clear head and an insight from the discussion that's going on in a friend's blog. I can be struck by lightning for this. But then again if it does happen, I'd be struck a hundred times by now. See I was talking about religion with my neighbours just now (when I was supposed to be studying for tomorrow's test) - one was a moslem, one a christian. At least none are fanatics - or I'd have moved out/moved floor/escaped etc. Or if they are, they don't preach to me and that's good enough. In a moment of philosophical finesse, I asked my neighbour, what's the purpose of living? Heh, actually I was just asking more out of curiosity as to the angle she'd use in her answer rather than her absolute answer. And I'd vomit blood before I can swallow this: 1. To fulfil God's will 2. To be happy (corny as it may be, I can accept this if only they stop there) but no...it's "to be happy because when you fulfil God's will you'll lead life with a sense of contentment" This is not acceptable because: 1. It's ambiguous and hence tricky. What if God's will to me is to shoot down fanatics with an arrow? (That'll be poetic justice) 2. Since God isn't making an appearance as we speak, people would have to be the one interpreting God's will (I was writing His will but somehow I feel like it has a negative connotation). The interpretation, technically would then be subject to human error. Even Einstein miscalculate sometime. (There was this scientific article sometime ago alerting us of the possibility of the speed of light varying as time goes by instead of a constant as is currently believed. This piece of information if proven to be true may mean that scientists need to throw the famous E=mc square to the rubbish bin. Is that too much information? well I have to be convincing in case of some die-hard Einstein believer is here to bash my mouth) 3. Which God are we talking about here? And as was brought up in the discussion in Fr0'sblog (It was a very interesting discussion, go see it) Buddhism isn't actually a religion (Buddha -formerly known as Sidharta Gautama- isn't God), it's more of a way of life. Although I'm very skeptical about the claim that Christianity isn't a religion. The claim that it's erhh.."a relationship with God" Look it up, Definition of a religion: a)Belief in and reverence for a supernatural power or powers regarded as creator and governor of the universe. b)A personal or institutionalized system grounded in such belief and worship. And if Christianity is defined as a relationship with God. God being a presence of a supernatural/creator of the universe, how can Christianity NOT be a religion? Not to mention the hierarchy system they have with the Pope, Bishop pastor etc, there's no way that's simply a relationship with God. It's more like an organisation i.e an institutionalised system. Fits the definition? But then again you can argue that we're the ones who come up with definitions in the dictionary in the first place and it's subject to change as society's perception changes. So why debate in the first place? Does the voice of the majority the only thing that matters? I believe by the time society's perception about religion changes, there will be sufficient fundamental change in the way religion works/affects people (afterall, definition does have to ring true at the time it's published) therefore it doesn't really matter that we're the ones that come up with definitions. Definitions evolve as we evolve. By sufficient fundamental change, I mean changes that are radically different. But seeing how fanatics are still running rampant, how religion is still a sensitive topic to broach (as was warned by my dear editor in The Ridge) and hence it's quite safe to say that the environment we live in now isn't exactly a conducive environment for any constructive discussion- that might lead to this change in perception -to take place. Not to mention, a change in mindset starts with a considerable degree of acceptance of the differing views that exist within the society, including those that are deemed radical at the time. And as long as people are still resorting to -as Fr0 put it- making justifications that are based on self-reference, this change is unlikely to take place. People are too rigid. This is true as I experienced it myself. When asked the critical question of, How do you know the bible's right? and If your bible's right, is the Koran and other holy book wrong? I don't get satisfactory answers from my neighbour. There's this tendency to point out evidence from the bible as proof of its fidelity. But that's -to put it bluntly- cheating. It's almost like saying a boy is a boy because a boy is a boy. It's a tricky cycle that's hard to break. In science (since I'm a woman of science), this is a fatal error. Scientists must be careful in that a definition cannot be used to explain the concept. The two needs to be mutually exclusive. Male is defined as sex that has organs to produce spermatozoa for fertilizing ova. In explaining the concept behind we can't use this definition. Why is a male male? It's not because it has organs that.....bla bla bla. It's because (at least in humans), male has the characteristic XY chromosome pair. Definition and explanation of concept has to be different. A boy isn't a boy because it's a boy. In all fairness, this should apply to religion as well. Something that my neighbour said get me thinking for a while though. It's something along this line: (I shall rephrase what she said into something more tangible so it's easier for you to accept) What if you don't see that apple on the table because you refuse to see it? That left me speechless for a while. Because in a way, I can be quite vehement in saying no to preaches. Okay, that's an understatement. But if I re-think her question, I can ask her back, What if you see a non-existing apple on the table because you're so convinced that it's there? Sometimes the best answer to a difficult question is a question. All that said, I have no problem against religions. I believe they all teach the same thing (tell me if I'm wrong, I may not know enough about certain religions to make an objective observation; this is open to discussion): How to co-exist with other people. But if I'm right, most religions fail in their mission then. Because we can certainly make do with a more peaceful world where people don't kill/badmouth one another over issues like racial/political/gender/or even religious differences. Why are there religions? I've come up with several suggestions. You can disagree, but you can't kill me for disagreeing. Extreme views are everywhere if you only know where to look. So here goes. 1. Once upon a time there's this brilliant person/bunch of people who came up with the concept of a religion. Well maybe they don't call it "religion" at the time but it was basically believed by many. And perhaps their theories/stories - which would be the basis for this religion - were so convincing, it got passed down to the subsequent generations. And as time progresses, this concept of religion evolves and with it, the concept remained convincing to whatever generation it was exposed to until it reached a stable state - a state of equilibrium if you will - that persists now. It may be ironic to say that this, to me is quite an optimistic outlook because if religions evolved in the past, they can still evolve now if the environment changes. All it requires is a catalyst. Come to think of it this resembles Darwinism. 2. Out of fear. Belief in the supernatural - definition of a religion - comes when we fail to explain certain things. Well, science certainly has laid to rest some fear, fears of thunder for example by providing explanations but it doesn't explain everything. Neither can it. The existence of earth is still an enigma in itself. The big bang? Arguable. Perhaps we take comfort in believing that there's a reason for everything and that we just don't understand them. 3. To give life more meaning. So that life isn't all about eating, shitting, aging and die a biological waste. We can then take comfort in believing that whoever that precedes us in death will have someplace to go. The idea of reincarnations or that of heaven and hell in different religions should reinforce this concept. Don't the christians say Let .....(the deceased) rest beside......(some God/angles) in heaven in a funeral? I need to emphasise that my tendency to use Christians as example is in no way affected by my sentiment towards that religion. I use it simply because it's one of the religions that I'm more familiar with. I was raised in a catholic school- if that helps to clarify things. And it isn't all bad that religion makes people believe in the sanctity of life. If peace is ever to be achieved, I think that's where everything should start. As Supernova put it, "An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind" But if that brings peace, I think it's worth the trouble. Blinding the whole world. Heh. Okay that's a pretty long entry. Hopefully it makes sense, aye? Grinning Goat at 12/09/2004 06:50:00 AM pontificated | {buzzz out} Wednesday, December 08, 2004
I just watched this segment of a documentary in Channel News Asia about this cobbler. After saying something along the line of it doesn't matter if the shoes are old or new, cheap or expensive, it's how precious the shoes are to a person, which made me very very skeptic, he went to telling this story about how one day while he was out in the street, a mother pointed her finger at him, telling her son If you don't study hard, you'll be like him. Him being the cobbler of course, because the next thing he does is critisize the mother for teaching such a young child the concept of what jobs are lowly and what jobs are not. Does it matter when he learns it? The child is going to grow up learning the same thing anyway. That any jobs lower than a white collar jobs are lowly. Isn't that the sentiment society instils in us? Look at the number of youngsters choosing their jobs. Do any of them ever take up toilet-cleaning jobs or rubbish-collecting, the likes of which people think are beneath them? Reminds me of what my Malay teacher in the leaf school used to say. A fact that's hard to swallow but I think is true nonetheless. She asked, Ross do you know why the government resorts to streaming, why students are divided into class. Special, express, normal, technical? Of course there can be a dozen of reasons. It's just a matter of where you turn your head to. But she somewhat shocked me then when she answered bluntly (she's one of those rare breed of teachers who don't succumb to political-correctness bullshit, except during a debate of course) that the government doesn't just need people in high offices, there's got to be people cleaning up the streets too. There has to be someone out there doing our dirty jobs for us. And since some people are complaining about the import of foreign workers who're willing to do those jobs, I suppose the logical answer would be for Singaporeans themselves to get down and scrape their knees, wouldn't it? Grinning Goat at 12/08/2004 08:07:00 PM pontificated | {buzzz out} Go and read it you guys Okay I loveeeeeee Colin Bateman. And I've only read ONE of his books. Shooting Sean. I just hope the wall around here is thick enough. Don't want to have neighbours complaining I was disturbing their beauty sleep with my laughter, you understand. One hillarious guy. Wherever his talent lie, it's not in writing anything melancholic. I mean, check out the ending...it was all sad and drama...and then. 'Come home now. She won't let you bury little Stevie until you come home.' 'Why?' 'Because he's your son, Dan.' 'No, he's not.' 'Dan.' 'She had an affair. He wasn't mine.' 'Dan.' 'He had ginger hair. Did you ever look at him? He looked nothing like me.' 'Dan, don't do this.' 'I like it here. It's sunny. Let Tony do it. He's the dad. He can hold the coffin. Little white ones, aren't they? They're always little white ones. Like shoe boxes. I bought him shoes. Do you know that? I bought him shoes once, and they had Winnie the Pooh on the side. He said, "I love these so much," and he wouldn't wear them. They're too small now for him now, Mouse. They're too small.' I looked at Mouse, and there were tears rolling down his cheeks. It might just have been the sand, blowing up. There was a lot of sand.. I love Colin Bateman. Grinning Goat at 12/08/2004 04:25:00 AM pontificated | {buzzz out} It's curable, isn't it?? Isn't it?? I've always been a firm believer of the incurability of the horrible horrible disease that is tone-deafness. But now whatever slim hope I have in making the Hall production a big success (yes, I'm an ambitious bitch) relies on its curability. Please please let it be curable. "Yes, it's curable" "Really??" (with two big shining hopefull eyes) "In maybe three, four years?" Try TWO MONTHS. The Hall Production's in January... My head's filled with scales now. Scales and more scales. Follow me anyone? Do re mi fa so la ti do... Lalalala............ By the way do you know what does two people singing the same notes their voice not blending mean? (Of course it means I'm screwed, I'm failing as a vocal director etc etc etc but that's not the point) It means there are vibrations... Two days since the beginning of training and I'm picking up their lingo already. Aren't I brilliant? Heh. Grinning Goat at 12/08/2004 04:16:00 AM pontificated | {buzzz out} Sunday, December 05, 2004 Overactive imagination It's been really long since I cycled. To the market. See, if it's not to the market it won't be fun. At least going there with my mother gives it a sense of purpose. I carried all the stuff back home on my back and cycled home etc etc etc (my mother's quite a shopper- just that it doesn't really rub off on me). Where else can i go? Well, I suppose I can go to this small complex with a lot of houses but I can't try to get myself lost forever - to give it a sense of adventure a little - because after a while it's just pretense. You keep telling yourself in the head that you're lost and oh man how to go back how to go back??? when all the roads look familiar... Of course you can't tell me to draw maps. Ask any taxi driver around to draw you a map and they'll frown at you. Intensely. Because knowledge of routes are just there, somewhere in the folds of your brain but you can't really extract it out in the form of a map. So how does anybody come up with maps? Beats me. So, I cycled and she walked. The other bike's tyre just went all limp after one month of abeyance. And that's after I worked out some sweat pumping some air into it. Damned tyre. Of course I needed to look back once in a while. Or cycled back to accompany the queen. One can't get too proud with the speed that doesn't come from one's two legs can one? Then the queen wanted to make a stop at the ATM machine so I had to keep an eye out in case some funny fella came around. Heroes protect their queen. That's what a bike's handle for, to knock some sense into people. And the bike isn't even made of Titanium unlike the other one whose tyre gave up on me. It can't do much damage, that metal. Robber-knocker should be made of more serious stuff. Like iron. Although I doubt it's iron either. Didn't rust. I know probably horses make for a more novel feeling but bike will have to do. Then she crossed the road. Busy roads. I can't do much here. You can knock some sense into robbers but cars? Cars knock you out. My bike wouldn't do much too. It'd probably just crumple. The market. The supermarket smelt like bleach. I pointed out if a murder had taken place here and they're using bleach to clean all the mess and keep the smell away. She rapped my skull with her knuckles. I know it's probably not my skull she's rapping but the sound that was produced? That's got to be something solid and I think I have a soft brain. She took a trolley and put some jellies inside. Are we buying those? I brightened up. Then she shook her head, moving on to more important stuff like apples. Don't be silly, boy! I put it there to prevent some itchy hands from taking our trolley - together with the bags in it. Ah so apples it was then. She took three then four then five then... Are we going to feed the whole world? The art of apple-picking: pick those that are red. Bruise-free. And of course: pick those that are big. It's serious business, the whole world it might be, but the whole world won't take it, us giving them crappy apples because of our incompetence in apple-picking. When we're finished with apples and moving on to pear fragrance, this puny woman asked, How much is one kg of pear?. Pear fragrance, not pear. What??? Never mind. The lady obviously had a hard time figuring out the metric system. It said there, 23 cents for 100 gram. So I did the maths for her. 2 bucks 30 cents, lady. I didn't know heroes have to do sums like that too. To help poor aunties having troubles with the metric system. And it was pear fragrance, not pear. Leaving the bleach-smelling supermarket it was time for some dirty work. Shoving aunties at the wet market. The queen went to buy some tofu. The man was selling some bean sprout too. And they looked all fat and long, not wrinkly and smelly the way mine always turned out everytime I tried to grow some. I remembered my sister telling me, you soaked them in water for too long. And of course I didn't believe her. Next stop was this stall selling smelly chinese vegetables. Ah how does anything that putrid ever taste good? But obviously you just drink the soup, you don't eat the foul-smelling thing. Perhaps that's why my head's slightly dented from all the skull-rapping. You're supposed to eat your vegetables. Fetid or not. And we bought some black, suspicious-looking eggs. So suspicious they looked, I forgot my duty in carrying the stuff around. The queen is to carry nothing. King's order. I kept watching my feet lest some aunties stepped on them. The queen then decided I was too much of a hindrance and should just wait at the side with the loot. It's not loot loot technically but calling them tofu and vegetables is just no fun at all. Obviously the queen is to have no knowledge of this or I'm in for some skull rapping and I value my head too much. There sitting at the side too was this man. Or was it woman? He/she was spewing out white curly fumes. A smoking machine. In chimneys, this is tolerable but in human this is just plainly irritating. Especially when the smelly fumes blew my way. Sick sick smell. Suffocating too. Smoking machine should be banned. It spreads foul smell and polutes the air. I was thinking perhaps I should go upwind but then I was reminded that I was at the wet market and there's probably not much wind here. Look at all those shoving aunties. Sweating. I was then saved when the queen came back with her loot. You want some corn? Corn's good. So she waited for this woman at the front to finish picking. The corn was placed in this big carton on the floor. And when the woman bent down, she almost knock down the queen with her butt. I gasped.....Okay I didn't but still... How dare she butt the queen! When it was the queen's turn to pick the corn on the floor I stood behind her just so that there's no more knocking around with butts happening here. On our way back, we saw a bunch of people shouting at one another. The queen shook her head. Hot weather, the weather's too hot, she said. Ah it's always the weather. It's always too hot or too cold or too windy. When you're sick, it's because of the weather too. Then she allowed me to go back first with my bike (and the loot on my back) while she walked. I started to refuse. Heroes aren't to leave queens behind irresponsibly like that. But then I remembered my sore butt, which undoubtedly would get even sorer with the heavy sack on my back and even sorer the longer I was on the bike. Besides, you're not supposed to defy the queen. So I went back first. Speeding. My butt aching to get the load off. When you're bored, you make movies in your head. Then you play them over and over. You just have to ignore all my silly babbling and that's exactly what happened the day i went to the market with my mother. Which was yesterday. (which also happened to be Ono's birthday. Happy birthday, bro!) Oh and I mentioned the word boy up there. That's part of the story too. If it's the story of a girl, it'd have to be something more ladylike. Which would kill me. Not that a lady can't be a knight, yes? Read Tamora Pierce's book. And if my mother sounded a little off in the head, that's probably because she said none of those things. It's all in my head. It's all in my head. Grinning Goat at 12/05/2004 11:08:00 PM pontificated | {buzzz out} Friday, December 03, 2004 If I'm the judge I watched a couple of the performances by the two idol-wanna-bes on the bus yesterday. It was horrid. And the way Dick Lee (and the rest of them bozos) kept praising the two of them left me banging my head on the wall. To be fair, (see? I'm always fair. Heh) they have the voice. It's techniques they're lacking. No, strike that. It's technique Taufik's lacking. (The oher guy can drop dead on stage and I couldn't care less) Taufik lacks the vibe. I don't want to resort to psychological bullshit but groovy songs aren't groovy anymore in his hands. And perhaps powerful songs lost some of their charm. His singing doesn't send us shouting and wanting more. It was just a good song. And that's as far as it goes. Dammit let me resort to psychological bullshit : His songs don't touch people. Pity. As for the stupid cat. I think he brings shame to even the cat who loves to eat Tweety the bird. Heh. He practically, single-handedly destroyed Bon Jovi's It's my Life. The transition between keys were all screwed. The pitching unstable. The shouting unbearable. And someone actually said "It's like you are born to perform" True. If the stage is one big toilet with sound proof walls and a very very tolerant neighbour next door. With a lock that can only be opened from the exterior if you can help it. Let's hope Bon Jovi wasn't there tuning in across the ocean. Treatment for heart attack is very costly you know. They have a lot to learn from this Pakistani guy on my band. They can't beat him. Technique, texture, style. Yes, I have a low tolerance level for bad singing, do forgive me. But when I say someone's good, make no mistake. I mean it. I mean every single word. He's the man. You guys should listen to him sometime. I can maybe try smuggling some of you to the hall... Grinning Goat at 12/03/2004 01:18:00 AM pontificated | {buzzz out} Thursday, December 02, 2004 Galilee I didn't come home empty-handed the other day. When the library was being all crappy and ran out of even the classic collection (amazing, eh?) In fact, NONE of the books in my friend's list of recommendation's even there. Or the books I wanted to read. Heh. Right. Clive Barker's Galilee is one strange book. (and it's even stranger to read it in Cafe Galilee -) It's not really romance. Nor is it really horror or fantasy. It was a little of each. Barker likes to do this, I observed. Blurring fact with fiction. Like how in the middle of this bizzare twisted story of a family of Gods there's suddenly the name Thomas Jefferson being mentioned. or the civil war. Barker's trying so hard to sell his story that he gave the impression some great events were about to unfold. The suspense was there, he's good at doing it (although I was somewhat irritated -him trying to sell his story didn't go unnoticed) So good in fact that when the events did unfold, it was almost anticlimactical. And the ending kind of spoils it all. Like what was said, it is easier to write something sad, a tragedy if you will than to write about something happy. I guess that bit is true because the ending is a bloody spoiler. Grinning Goat at 12/02/2004 11:48:00 PM pontificated | {buzzz out} You can get killed for staring like that We were minding our business at the hospital yesterday (I only wrote this today because bloody blogger refused to cooperate yesterday and I discovered some of my anger has dissipated a little, perhaps for the good of everybody) when this bunch of people walking up the stairs were staring. What, they've never seen anybody with crutches before? Yea that can be it alright, after all we're all living in this silly little place where everything is safe (and so who's use crutches right?) Seeing is alright. But staring? You'd think people have more decency. It's as though there's something fascinating. Entertaining to look at. Go get a life, for goodness sake. I thought you get enough of that from televisions and movies. Obviously Hollywood hasn't produced enough pity-inducing, violence-filled movies. Heh. Grinning Goat at 12/02/2004 11:11:00 PM pontificated | {buzzz out} |
 "Stupid is as stupid does" Forrest Gump
Archieves for the-nothing to dos
SNEAK PEEK |
