Saturday, August 29, 2009

Too short for bullshit

Life is too short for bullshit.

I was 14 when it dawned on me that people DIE. Not that I haven't always known what death means. Cockroaches die (and I'm not at all sorry- serve them right). Ants die. My pets (five chickens, a LOT of hamsters- not my fault really, they were practically cannibals- and a couple of terrapins) died. It wasn't that kind of death that dawned on me. It was that sinking realization at the pit of my stomach that people DIE.

When people have to go, they go.

I think that's what makes Final Destination so scary. Not so much the blood and gore (because it's just so stupid in that science-defying way when blood splatter when some got hit by a bus. Ask anyone on forensics and they'll tell you that the blood oughta POOL, not splatter) but the concept. That when you have to go, you have to go. That you can't cheat death even though you know it's coming for you. As sneakily and ruthlessly as cancer.

You can die anytime. While walking. While sitting. In your sleep.

Never mind that you die, if that's really the end but it's just that much of an excruciating heart break to be left behind, not really knowing if it's really the end, finally understanding the true meaning of the word forever and hating it at the same time.

Grinning Goat at 8/29/2009 12:37:00 AM pontificated

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{buzzz out}

Thursday, August 20, 2009

BLOODY PEST

One can only hope that the smell of a crushed cockroach under a newspaper is enough to warn all cockroaches to never step foot on my kitchen again. One can only hope.

Grinning Goat at 8/20/2009 12:33:00 AM pontificated

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{buzzz out}

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

The beginning of bigotry

What is it about people and imperfection? I'm sure there is a very sound reason for the impossibility of perfection. To begin with, humans are much too arrogant imperfect.

I'm not going to go grandiloquent on you and use fanciful terms like racial profiling. Because it isn't about that; it is about something much more basic. Physical profiling. Hell, I can even argue that physical profiling breeds racial profiling. Any scientists out there can tell you that they can't define race in the context of genetics. That race is very much a social concept. In other words, invented by men.

If you want to get personal, you can say ANYTHING about EVERYONE and EVERYTHING. But how is it that ANYONE can be guilty just by doing nothing? Just by BEING, through no fault of their own?

So some people are shorter than others. And how does that offend you, really? Do they exhaust the air beneath your chin and suffocate your legs?
Some people are less fine looking than others. What, do they give you sore eyes you need eye cream for it?
Some people are bigger than others. What, do they invade your space so much you gotta go to another galaxy just to breathe?

What? What is it?

Just exactly what is it about physical imperfection that is worthy of reproach?

Isn't it always the case that there's a parallel of others' imperfection in you? One is only so short as the other is ugly. One is only so big as the other is tone deaf and the list goes on. If men were to have any say at all in their physicality at the point of conception, everybody would probably look attractive with no blemish whatsoever. Perfect. And equally bland.

The merit of having imperfections is that it eases your learning of the concept of humility.

Are you sick of all the rhetorical questions yet? Because I am. Rhetorical questions are rethorical not because they don't have an answer but because answering them would be uncomfortable and therefore inconvenient. I'd like to think of it as the hate in your love-hate relationship with yourself, if you aren't too narcissistic to realise it.

I would be dishonest if I say that the thin air inspired me to write this (and I would be hypocritical if I say that the national day rally speech was what inspired me). It was nothing so meaningless nor so grandiose and at the risk of sounding pompous, I'd say that it really IS quite beneath me to be in the presence of such a bigot.

Grinning Goat at 8/18/2009 09:35:00 PM pontificated

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{buzzz out}

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Me boys

Someone told me once that it's only natural for parents to be partial to one/some of their kids. And even though nowadays I'm beyond getting surprised, I was appalled of course. It was a little like admitting that you are a racist. Being a racist or not notwithstanding, acknowledging it publicly would be equal to an admission that you find no shame in the fact that you are one (if you are one). Not that I am a big fan of political correctness. Just that I find it a bigger sin to not know your sin.

Nevertheless if I were to apply this person's mindset in the context of rat rearing, it would provide me with sufficient permit (though in principle,it's still thoroughly distorted and morally perverted) to display my favouritism. To like one more than the other. Here goes.

S1
Don't remember him much. He was perhaps a little fatter than the others

S2
The fur behind his ear near his whiskers was tainted red. And the stain didn't go away. A constant reminder of a fight from a long time ago. Too much testosterone this one. Probably.

S3
A weakling. A little blue pill and he died at the operating table. And not before you collected his blood too.

S4
I didn't realise it til today but he was probably the most resilient of the lot. Steady blood pressure 4 hours into surgery. Didn't come out of anesthesia so quickly either. I love this rat.

S5
A gourmet at heart. His taste buds are probably more refined than the rest. Them taste buds probably found dry pellets the very thing that they are: uninviting unappetizing constipation-inducing health bars minus the health. That would explain his below average weight. Everytime I gripped him by the head, my grip always didn't have a solid feel to it.

S6
The little tiger. He's a little on the heavy side. When you tilt his head up, he could actually pass as a mini tiger. Well, okay maybe the snout looks a tad wrong. But you really can't be that fussy to know what I mean.

S7
S7 is Mr.Jumpy. The labeling on his tail came off once so there was a possible mix-up with S6 since they're both living in the same house. But nah, if you know Mr.Jumpy, there's no possible mix-up at all. Where S6 is a tiger-look-alike-bully, S7 fits the description of his species. Timid. Cowardly. Restless. And jumpy. Touch his ramp once and he will jump. Touch his ramp twice, well it's pretty hard to touch his ramp twice because once you touch his ramp, his head will constantly turn at your approaching hand with suspicious eyes, hell-bent on avoiding another tackling by the human hand.

But he is most definitely the best looking of the lot.

R: this one is handsome
M: why? cuz of the whiskers?
R: no, it's the angle of his jaw.
M: uhhh lemme see
R: do you see his jaw? it's less angular and more streamlined
M: looks the same to me

=,=

Some people just can't appreciate handsome rats.

Grinning Goat at 8/12/2009 04:21:00 PM pontificated

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{buzzz out}

Not for

I was over at the YIH today and I picked up a copy of the Ridge. The chief editor and the editors of each subsection have changed. The quality of the publication has deteriorated I must say. Well, to be fair I haven't read the entire thing but like with any book I read, all you need is some sampling. If you can't get past the first 15 pages, what makes you think you can get past the 30th or the 100th for that matter?

There was this column though on page 4 where a student wrote about how being stuck in NUS for so long make her cynical. How seniority corrupted her.

"I was happier in my freshman year, I think. Not the jaded self that I am now, and not for any flamboyant reason besides the fact that I was fresh and optimistic and therefore also blissfully ignorant"

I have graduated. But now that I'm back in, I discovered that the same thing still applies. I'm sure I was a better person 6 months ago.

Grinning Goat at 8/12/2009 03:58:00 PM pontificated

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{buzzz out}

Monday, August 10, 2009

Bah

I hate goodbyes. It reminded me of a saying by Frank Mc.Court's mom "your bladder is too near your eyes for your own good"

Here, Wedgie look what this says. Even I didn't know I had a tassel and a dewclaw.


Grinning Goat at 8/10/2009 11:13:00 PM pontificated

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{buzzz out}

Saturday, August 08, 2009

How stupid is that

I got seasick at the swimming pool today.

R: I got seasick
DJ: but why? there's no sea

You know, he is right. There WAS no sea, my brain had no right getting seasick and nauseous. I might as well get seasick in a bathtub.

Grinning Goat at 8/08/2009 12:26:00 AM pontificated

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{buzzz out}