Passive Manipulation

 My last paper for this semester is in 2 hours. Don't be misunderstood; I did not wake up early just to do some last minute revision. In fact, I did not sleep. Lately, I have been having some conversations concerning the Christian life with one of my friends. As the 3 of us sat at Sahur yesterday, again, we were at topics which revolved around this.

To be honest, I'm no saint. To be honest, I'm a sinner. And maybe one worse than most of you out there. During my early secondary years, I mixed with a group of "heavy" Cantonese speaking friends. It was those years that I was a foul-mouthed little brat with a very enhanced and comprehensive vocabulary of vulgar words. As I grew up, my conscience prompted me to stop. I did in a way. I no longer use explicit foul words but retained milder forms of them such as "bitch", "asshole", and those within the same category. For me, it was, "Hey, as long as I don't use Cantonese bad words or the F-word, I'm justified." And so, developed a self-righteous theory which I lived with for years.

We all want to be Christians the easy way. We all want to be good Christians but retain some sins in certain respects of our lives. I give in a little, I compromise Christianity a little, and we have what I term a comfortable contract of living. Until now, I never realised I was setting double standards in my Christian life. Consider sin. What categories exist? Is murder any heavier a sin than theft? Is adultery much greater a sin than pornography? The truth is, categories don't exist. You don't measure sin. You don't compare one sin's sinfulness with another. Even we, sinners, are equal in the eyes of God. So, what makes one sin different from another? Going back to the issue, what makes one bad word less explicit than the other? What makes "bitch" a less vulgar word than "fuck"? At this point, I'm disheartened because I'm self-righteous. I'm an unworthy sinner. I'm a hypocrite.

It's this. Something happened of late. I witnessed how blasphemous and vulgar a Christian can get. In my somewhat mixed feelings of humour and disapproval at what I saw, I became disgusted with myself. Even though I was a witness, I couldn't bring myself to correct my fellow brethren. How can I remove the speck which is in my brother's eyes when I fail to see the log in my own? God reminded and I made a decision. I will to break down the distinction I set between vulgar words of seemingly varying "degrees". I will to remove self-justifying double standards in my life. I will to be a lesser hypocrite than I already am.

This tends to be a trivial issue to many. In fact, some couldn't care less. My friend argued and told me it doesn't matter because it's just a form of expressing himself when he's agitated or frustrated. He told me it doesn't matter because he didn't mean those things he utters. It was nothing but mere statements of exclamation. But out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks. How can we with the same mouth bless our God and Father, and with it we curse men, who have been made in the similitude of God? Does a spring send forth fresh water and bitter from the same opening? Can a fig tree bear olive, or a grapevine bear figs?

Yes, many may further argue that vulgar words are defined by culture. No matter how you look at it, certain words will always be vulgar words, regardless of the etymology of the word or its exact purpose, meaning, or intent. So why should I bother? In essence, it's not that wrong after all. "Fuck" is just another word for having sex. It's culture that defines it as uncouth, as vulgar. I couldn't care less about what people think as long as I know I'm right. But my brethren, we are called to be imitators of Christ. We are His walking and living testimonies. It shouldn't be so but people judge Christianity by Christians, not by the faith itself. As ugly as it may sound, we Christians are living under scrutiny. We cannot do what the society deems as morally wrong, unacceptable, or in a more generic term, sin; even if it means sacrificing some of our pleasures and earthly contentment. And only he who is stronger can give in to the weaker. May we be less, and let Christ be more, that people will see and believe. 

My Sister, Cheryl

Folks, click on the image to view the conversation in enlarged mode.

As promised, sis. =)

P/S: Oh, just in case some of you don't get it, Damansara Perdana's where my sister stays in KL and of course, Pasir Puteh's our hometown in Ipoh. She's the first person I know who doesn't know dp stands for display picture. LOL.

Dear Mr.W,

Grace and peace be to you in abundance! I bring forth rather unpleasant tidings as I stand before you today to speak on behalf of my people and me concerning a grave matter. I am not of the complaining type but it has been getting unbearable of late. I understand from my trustworthy sources that you are going through a rather rough patch lately but I myself am going through pretty tough times as well. Just for your records, it is hard to live in a harmonious relationship with you when your emotions fluctuate between two extremes. In the highly probable event that you disagree, I would like to quote an experience of my own for your kind reference. I believe today is a fairly precise example.

On a beautiful Sunday morning like today, it was cloudy. In fact, it started to rain in the eleventh hour of the day. I presume that it was due to your getting up off the wrong side of the bed. In utmost due respect and blunt honesty, I would prefer you to always get up off the wrong side because I have a personal distaste towards heat. However, as the day progressed, you felt better, again I presuppose. And so much better that eventually, the lovely day turned into naught but heatwave! Just in case you do not know, it is like living in a microwave; save the existence of a timer that indicates when the heat stops.

Being the helpless little creatures without much control that we are is the reason why I wrote this letter of appeal to you; to see if you may so willingly do something about this. But of course, considering that you are always subjected to Mr.E's conditions, we being the stewards of Mr.E, are in fact indirectly in control of the situation. This can be proven through a display of lengthy, algebraic mathemathical equations but I do not consider this course of action necessary as space and time consumption are two limiting factors that disallow me to thoroughly expound my theory. Referring back to the said issue, unfortunately, the joint effort of stewardship between man and man is known to be an irredeemable failed cause. This is precisely why this letter has to be submitted.

Therefore, in light of our plight, may you be so kind, Mr.W, as to show a little grace on your humble subjects by seeing to this issue and taking the appropriate measures of concern. This will definitely help erase the growing doubts among my people that you have become apathetic towards man and prevent our man-weather relationship from further breaking down. In the event that you fail to sympathise and emphatise with us, we will continue to pursue justice in a persistent manner. For even the unjust judge avenged the widow because of her persistency.

On a final note, in the event even our sincere persistency fail to penetrate your iron coated heart of ice, we will resort to more drastic means and violent measures to achieve our good intentions.

Sweating under shower,

Mr.C. 

A Walk To Remember

Class of 5sc1

Let me slip against the current.

This was bugging me so I thought I'd just blog it to get it off my mind. This will be a long one.

I lay on my bed and memories flooded my mind. I started recalling all the close friends I made along the walk of life. Friends whom I've lost along the way, and friends I'm still in touch with. I began to see the pattern which friendships take on. Different phases in our lives demand different people. As we move on with life, friendships move on too.

I took an elaborate step by attempting to recall all the close friends I have, starting from primary school. To my surprise, it wasn't difficult to identify them. Back in Standard 3, my close friends were Wong King Mun and Suen Whei Yeap. I still remember our obsession with comic books and drawing our own comics. I also recall the times we went to each other's house to watch Dragonball. Things changed when Whei Yeap achieved excellent results in PTS and went one year ahead of us. The bond was broken in the end. I'm no longer in contact with both of them.

Standard 4 was one of the best times in my life. This was the phase I discovered one of my closest friend, whom I'm still in constant contact with. I still remember Kumara and me being enemies at first because back then, I didn't like Indians for some unknown reason. But somehow, the teacher made us sit together in Standard 4 and so, a beautiful friendship was fostered. I still remember we had a comfortable place at the back of the class, where we plastered notes like "Clarence & Kumara's Territory" to privatize the zone. Happy times.

We move on to Standard 5. If my memories didn't get the time zones wrong, it was William in this phase. I couldn't really remember when this friendship occured but the fact that it has impacted me to a certain extent proves how important it was to me. William frequented my house, where we played computer games and football together. We also had a common interest in tortoises. In fact, he was the one who introduced raring tortoises to me. The interest has certainly lost most of its spark with time, but nevertheless, a dim glow of it appears now and then. After Form 6, we are not in contact anymore.

Then came Standard 6. I had a fairly mixed number of close friends in this phase. What I still vividly remember is the small group I had which comprised of me, Shafiq, Eddie Raj, and Stephen. This was multi-ethnic integration at its highest level. We did most of the stupid things together, like running around the old pondok, galah panjang, jengket, football with plastic bottles and collecting biji sagu. It was also a phase where bottlecaps were a trend, with batu seremban and sorts. There are so much I remember that I couldn't write it all. Totally lost touch with Shafiq after he transferred to Teknik school (or something like that). Same goes for Eddie after we moved into different classes in secondary school.

Well, I was also close to Khael and Andrew Wong. Andrew wasn't someone easy to get along with but somehow, there was a little chemistry between us. This friendship carried on right up to Form 3, as we were in the same class. Kumara was also in that class too. I still remember us going out together and sharing games like Pizza and Heroes of Might and Magic. We were also into guitars in that phase. Timothy also appeared along this phase. And together as junior prefects, we started to build a close bond together.

Timothy was in the same class in Form 4 with me. It was at this phase that I rebuilt the friendship I used to have with Stephen as well. Here, I made close friends such as Yohanand, Kok Chen, Seng Hoe, and Bernard. The crazy times in class were beyond anything that I have and will ever experience. Shit we did in Chemistry and Bio classes, during Moral lessons, plus football during PJ were priceless. I'd never trade those moments and memories for anything in the world. Recently, I've caught up with Stephen and Bernard. In touch with Timothy, Kok Chen, and Seng Hoe once in awhile. Gavin also appeared at this point. Every morning, he would walk to my house and I'd give him a ride on my bike to school. Because of that, we gradually became close and shared common interests in GTA3, The Rasmus, and the like. We also went to the same Add Maths and Physics tuition together. Again, I've yet to catch up with this friend.

Let's do some retro. Michael appeared in Standard 6. We went through ups and downs in our friendship. We went out together and also shared interest in comics and "hamsup" things. However, we fought over issues I could not positively affirm now and didn't speak for few years in secondary school. In the end, I swallowed my pride and approached him at the bus stop one day after school. We talked once more and rebuilt the shattered ruins of our friendship. It wasn't difficult; we succeeded without much effort. In contact with him, now and then.

Form 6 was great too. I was afraid I'd be lonely at first, as most of my friends were going overseas. Thank God, Yohanand, Bernard, and Kumara were all here. It was at this phase that our friendships were further strengthened. It was great to have Yohanand around, what more in prefects this time. The LTC song we wrote, jamming sessions, Sixth Form Night, ping-pong matches, CF; they were all good. Bernard was also my company when I was in LSS5 initially before I changed to art stream. Not forgetting Boon Ann, whom I met in LSS5 and gradually developed a good friendship. I will never forget watching Euro 2008 with him and eating "tong sui kai" food about 3am in the morning. Again, Kumara was around in Form 6, and we had alot of good times. He also tried to get me more into scouting but failed miserably. I just hope I do not lose these friends in years to come.

Adrian also appeared in Form 6. Surprisingly, he was one of the earliest friends I have since Standard 1. Although we were not close, I've always bullied him back then. And even now. Haha. In Form 6, the friendship was built when I changed to Arts stream. With the foundations laid long ago, and being the only few pure Michaelians in the class, it wasn't much of a problem to bond. Class hours, DotA times, songs we shared, chicks we watched, moments in tuition, and chuch activities will always be a part of me I will not erase.

Of course, not forgetting to mention, there's always the church bunch I hanged out with. The childhood friends of mine. Andrew Chun and Vincent were the closest friends I had back then. Almost all the weekends we spent together in church activities and the like; youth meetings, Sunday services, church slumbers, outreaches, our very own sleepovers and various activities. We worked together so often that there was mutual understanding between us. We knew each other's characters inside out. Andrew's in UK now, not hearing from him lately. Vincent, after going off to Nilai, was no longer so close to us. But every once in awhile, when I see him during his breaks, we find that the old is not gone. And when this group of close, childhood buddies moved on, new ones also appeared. These people are the likes of Glenn, Steven, Kian Aun and the bunch I hang out with now. Though we are close in certain ways, the friendship is still very different from the ones I've built long ago. But in time to come, they will also eventually grow to become like those; but again, I have to bear in mind that just like myself, the next phase of life is awaiting some of them.

I regret, I blame myself for not maintaining the friendships I had. As much as I try, I'm a person who lacks initiative. I find it hard to keep constant contact with people, especially if they are far off. However, I'm trying now because I do not want to let my friendships fall along the walk of life again. The few close ones I still have, I'll fight for life to keep them. So, do not be afraid, or feel weird, if I pm you often in MSN or you suddenly receive my SMS one day. It's just because I want to know how you're doing. It's just because the friendship means something to me.

And after all that has been said and done, I find myself alone right now. Yes, the few close friends I have are still close to me in certain ways, especially when we meet up. But they are scattered all over Malaysia, in fact, the world, and things are different when you don't get to see each other that often. Currently, I'm going through another phase of life. But unlike the phases of life I've passed, I'm not able to build any close friendships like I did before. Maybe (hopefully) when I look back in a few years time, I can blog about the close friends I made in university life. For now, I'm just another lonesome dude living in solitude.

And solitude is good...

Freedom Hangs Like Heaven Over Everyone

Try reading this. My attention span in studies is short; I couldn't spend more than 5 mins reading a paragraph. I'm going back to Ipoh soon (very)! I wish to express certain things bugging me but my blog is rigged; ultimate truths about myself often have to be supressed. Today will be history; it might be the only few times I ever step foot into Dewan Makan for breakfast. I would say it was a great week; futsal the other day was great and assignments are finally over.

Okay, that sucked. Sorry for the feeble attempt in writing a post with random sentences that don't relate to each other. Apologies for tormenting your weak minds. The blogging begins now. I couldn't sleep, didn't want to sleep, and so decided not to sleep. Tried reading Public Administration but I ended up here eventually. This is the first time I actually turn to my blog as the remedy for boredom; a fair remedy I would say.

The contents of this post were never intended. I had initially wanted to write a no-brainer. But I stumbled upon something intriguing as my post began to build itself with every sentence I wrote. These four sentences (including this) were written after the completion of this post, so here goes. As mentioned above, there are certain things I would like to blog about. But it is not within my capacity to do so. There is a misconception of freedom in blogging. People argue (and I for one argued too) that one's blog is entirely one's realm. What I choose to blog is totally up to my own discretion. Unfortunately, in the early hours of a Friday morning, I discovered it the hard way; freedom cannot co-exist with blogging. It's either or; one or the other.

I felt tempted, in fact, compelled, to write certain things but having in mind the people who might read this post and the consequences that might follow, my deepest thoughts, again, have to be bottled up. I did; I failed on countless occasions. Without taking into consideration the people who might be reading my blog, I exercised the "freedom" I thought I possess as the master of my blog. Call me impulsive. I made a stupid statement to my brother the other day. When we were discussing some of the things I blogged, I told him I never expected people to read my blog. It was only after that, that I realised how foolish I was in making a statement as such. I remember my other brother told me once, if what I wrote wasn't intended for anyone; if it's merely my self expressions, it would have been better off if I wrote it on a piece of paper, or somewhere only mine eyes would have access to them.

The blog is not an avenue for one to express himself. You can beg to differ, you can argue, you can justify your argument in many ways. But I will remain convicted; not budging; to this fact: Blogging comes with a price; and that price is the freedom of expression. A true blogger is a man in jail; he hath not freedom. Blogging is a public display of yourself. It's a declaration of your willingness to share your thoughts with the world. But the minute you begin blogging, readers that come with it have to be anticipated. And for every word you type, these people have to stay in the back of your sweet mind. In truth, the readers are the actual authors of the blog, in that they eventually decide the end product of every post. Blogging is, in fact, very much a performance. And like every other performance, you wouldn't want to disappoint your audience.

This is just another one of those days where you stare at the screen and your mind goes blank.

Pinch Me

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

I Corinthians 13:4-7


Love defined who I am today.

Though I may no longer see, hear, or feel love,

Nor love, in return;

I will always remember,

Man is possible of love;

Because you showed me,

You were that love.

Dad

26.4.1938 - 5.4.2001

Always In Loving Memory.

d reluctant guitarist

jus a post 2 destress (altho ive oni spent 15 mins readin macro) n bcs i felt like updatin d blog. ntg interesting bt go ahead.

im a music fanatic. i love all (if nt, most) genres. mor inclined 2 indie rock, jazz, folk, country, reggae, classical, oldies, piano pieces, instrumental, rock&roll n funk. alternativ, mainstream, hiphop, n soul r alrite. nt a big fan of punk, sentimental, techno, boybands, or christian bands. currently, im addicted 2 metal. im obsessed. its various styles n myriads of techniques enslave me. im a metal whore. u name it, i hav it - metalllica, s.o.a.d, jimi hendrix, iron maiden, van halen, malmsteen, mastodon, pantera, rammstein, led zep, rise against, axel rudi pell, strung out, judas priest, elvenking, joe sat. metallica stil tops my list; yet 2 check out megadeth tho.

i started playin d guitar at d age of 13 n had alwis focused on rhythm (chords) n all. nvr reli learnt scales or theories. bcs of dat, i gt so tired of it; yet i contd playin even afta pickin up drums. twas durin d recent youth rally wher i was on d electric dat i subconsciously reignited my love 4 dis instrument. ive alwis tot dat d guitar's nt my passion. ive alwis maintained dat drums r. it's a lie. i was in a state of denial. 2day, i proved myself wrong. d guitar's my 1st love, my passion, n alwis wil b. i love tempo n beats, bt ntg beats a good guitar solo. ive wasted all dese years oni 2 discover now, im jus an amateur w d electric. im ashamed 2 tel ppl dat ive played d guitar 4 so long. n so, come dis sem break, im goin 2 work 2 gt my own electric guitar. it's time 2 improve. my electric journey began late 2008. dis baby wil grow; u'll c.

sidetrack, ive made a point nt 2 serve w my musical abilities as long as i don set things rite. if i cant play in d spirit, i shall nt play; until i learn 2 worship w an instrument. so, it's a sabbathical 4 me; wen guitars or drums r concerned in d spiritual realm. bt in d secular world, i can lose myself in d indulgence of pure pleasure, enjoyment, n self-satisfaction in music playin. i can unleash my hedonistic musical nature.

p/s: ive a habit of typin in proper sentences wen i blog/sms bcs i jus dislike d msn language thingy. weird, bt dats me. i took d extra effort 2 blog in dis style; trust me, it's nt easy 4 me. ive 2 go over d whole text again 2 make sur evryth's in msn language. it's horrendous; bt oh wel, it's worth tryin.

The Barter System

Barter is a type of trade in which goods or services are directly exchanged for other goods and/or services, without the use of money.


I'll trade my...

1) guitar skills for better drumming skills.

2) drumming skills for better vocals.

3) DotA skills for better 02jam skills.

4) 02jam skills for better Guitar Hero skills.

5) football skills for rugby skills.

6) ping pong skills for tennis skills.

7) sports abilities for the ability to dance.
 
8) agility for flexibility.

9) curly hair for corn-row, mohawk, or an afro.

10) brown eyes for bigger eyes.

11) tanned skin for some height.

12) 26GB of music for lessons with rock legends.

13) acoustic for an electric.

14) HP laptop for a high-end desktop.

15) Samsung U600 for an iPhone.

16) Converse shoes for two pairs of 'em.

17) F30 Adidas boots for a trip to White Hart Lane.

18) close friends for dad.

19) mom's love for me for more of my love for her.

20) girlfriend for my own band.

21) dog Sasha for a fat Persian cat.

22) 3rd semester for my family trip to UK.

23) academic success for knowledge.

24) ability to argue for a better listening ear.

25) ability to talk nonsense for the gift of an orator.

26) ability to write for longer attention span.

27) ability to know for the ability to do.

28) ability to stay awake for some decent sleep.

29) materialism for spirituality.

30) life for an eternal one.


Just needed to get away from the real life for abit.

Cheers.

Who Am I?

I looked in the mirror,
A reflection I see.
But things don't get clearer,
When who I seek is me.

Sometimes I wonder,
What lies beneath this facade?
If it was torn asunder,
Of whose image I am made?

'Tis a thinly veiled life,
When behind masks we hide.
But if only we were to realise,
That every face is far too wide.

Who am I?
I do not know.
This question,
Upon myself I bestow.

Hence, I searched high and low,
For more than a name or so.
And in that searching I found,
Something greater far is bound.

Who am I?
I still do not know.
But in confidence now, I can boast;
I am Yours.

1750. 240309. Fish.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Casting Crowns - Who Am I

Who am I, that the Lord of all the earth
Would care to know my name
Would care to feel my hurt
Who am I, that the Bright and Morning Star
Would choose to light the way
For my ever wandering heart

Not because of who I am
But because of what You've done
Not because of what I've done
But because of who You are

I am a flower quickly fading
Here today and gone tomorrow
A wave tossed in the ocean
A vapor in the wind
Still You hear me when I'm calling
Lord, You catch me when I'm falling
And You've told me who I am
I am Yours, I am Yours

Who am I, that the eyes that see my sin
Would look on me with love and watch me rise again
Who am I, that the voice that calmed the sea
Would call out through the rain
And calm the storm in me

Not because of who I am
But because of what You've done
Not because of what I've done
But because of who You are

I am a flower quickly fading
Here today and gone tomorrow
A wave tossed in the ocean
A vapor in the wind
Still You hear me when I'm calling
Lord, You catch me when I'm falling
And You've told me who I am
I am Yours, I am Yours

I am Yours
Whom shall I fear
Whom shall I fear
'Cause I am Yours
I am Yours

The Chronicles Of Wadeland: The Hedonistic Wades

It is with much sadness and grief that this epic tale is recalled. This happened before Wadeboyboy's betrayal of Wadeland, leaving for greener pastures, to another land faraway.

It was a cool night, the skies were starry with a full moon beaming overhead. 4 Wades got together for a bachelor's night out. Wadeboyboy drove his red Ferrari and picked the remaining 3 Wades up. Little did they know, it was going to be one wild night.

The following part of the tale will be recalled in dialogues.

Wadefish: Bro, where we going lah?

Wadeboyboy: I know good places around here. We can have some "fun". *evil grin*

Wadecool: What??? I'm scared lah, I'm underage. LOL. Jk.

Wadefrog: Eh, let's not go back tonight lah. We go overnight at Wadeboyboy's house.

Wadeboyboy: Cannot la bro... You see... (blah blah and gives stupid, lame excuses).

Wadefish: Wth man, I have to be back early then. We can't have a wild night. Or my mom will butcher me.

Wadeboyboy: Hmm... kla... Er, I think you guys can overnight at my place lah...

Wadefish: Deng!! Stupid la!! I packed my stuff edi but just now you say cannot I didn't bring. What am I gonna wear??

Wadefrog: Pinjam Wadeboyboy's lah...

Wadefish: Cannot lah... His one too small edi. LOL.

Wadecool: Eh, I found this good place with Wadeboyboy that day... near the bus station.. (goes into whispers).

And so, the night began. In preparation for stimulative activities later on, the Wades ate 6677 at a stall by the roadside. After filling up their blackholes, they proceeded to slay zombies for some warming up action. Then, they got on with the real deal.

Wadeboyboy rounded the streets of Yang Kalsom. Shadows lurking in dark corners could be seen beneath the shoplots. That was the prize. The fabled aquas. They were beautiful. Wadeboyboy pulled his bright red Ferrari up right next to the women. And so, the Wades were ensued in long, dirty talks with the aquas. One or two even recognised Wadeboyboy as their regular customer and asked:

Aqua: Ehh, you. Kenapa sudah sombong sekarang?

It was a breathtaking experience as the Wades even had minimal (I stress this word) contact with the aquas. A few hours later, the Wades felt no more steam in what they were doing. They decided it was enough for one night. Wadecool though, didn't seem to get enough. However, after much dispute and disagreement, they settled for beers in Polo Ground; with the exception of Wadefrog, who felt Coke alone could get him drunk.

It was about 5 in the morning. Morning joggers, mostly old folks, stared at the Wades who seemed to be drunk by now (but perfectly conscious). And they gave not a few looks of disgust at these seemingly troubled youth. Little did they know, the Wades are well disciplined, God-loving citizens of Wadeland. What's more, they couldn't recognise Wadefish, the founder of Wadeland, in that dim glow...

After settling the beers, the Wades decided to vanquish the whisperings and stares of the old folks once and for all. So, they threw the beer bottles high and far up in the air (Wadeboyboy had a very bad throw; almost killing himself and the other Wades). Upon touching ground, the bottles smashed to pieces; the piercing sound of glass shattering broke through the night. The joggers jogged faster, murmurings ceased, for fear of their lives. The Wades could not help but laugh at the sight of the scurrying dogs, for they meant no harm at all.

The Wades, guilt conscious of threatening the old folks, decided to redeem their Wade-sin by doing something which they would never do under normal circumstances. And so, the wild night ended with a mild activity. The Wades ate dim sum; the favourite sport for old folks after a good morning jog!

To be continued...

Rorschach's Journal

I beg your pardon, I don't mean to blog with such consistency. But after an encounter with Rorschach in Watchmen, I felt compelled to write. Such truth in Rorschach's words; they were in line with the thoughts in the book "Satan & The Problem Of Evil", which I'm currently studying.

For some, the movie Watchmen was a total waste of time. I, personally, felt it was a good movie, excluding the gore as I'm no fan of extreme violence. It was a little draggy, and certain parts were illogical if you were to reason, but hey, it's a movie after all, right? The music was also fantastic. The movie opened with Bob Dylan's "The Times They Are a-Changin", and tracks throughout include Simon & Garfunkel's "The Sound of Silence", Nat King Cole's "Unforgettable", and Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah". It cuts, therefore, as one good movie on the whole.

I used to attribute all kinds of suffering, evil, mishap, accident, and sorrow to God. I believed that there is a divine purpose for all these to happen. But after reading (still in the process of) the book "Satan & The Problem Of Evil", I realised that Augustine's blueprint worldview (the view of the world rooted in the assumption that behind every specific event there is a specific divine reason as to why it was ordained or at least allowed to take place) may not be as flawless as it seemed after all.

For how can we attribute that which is evil to a God who is good by nature? If all kinds of evil are part of God's divine plan, how can we be blamed and be justly punished for them? If it's so, God is the author of evil, and therefore we are absolved of responsibility for all our actions, because it is God who ultimately determines what we want and what we do. And so, I began a quest to look further into this matter, as I've always questioned the origins of evil, and why we're morally responsible for it.

Rorschach was a sociopath, a lunatic, branded by people around him who don't see life as he does. But I see Rorschach as more of a Christian than a psycho. Rorschach believed in moral absolutism and moral objectivism. In his world, good and evil are clearly defined, and evil must be violently punished. For this cause, he alienated himself from the rest of the society. From his words, it was also clear that he held the postapostolic father's views concerning evil. He believed in incompatibilistic freedom. God created all of us (even Satan and angels) with a free will; the ability and self-determining freedom to choose. We are the ultimate cause and explanation of our actions. In one scene, Rorschach said that it wasn't God who made the world the way it was (referring to the war-torn world with constant nuclear threats). He said it was us, humans.  

And as I read, I came upon the trinitarian warfare worldview, which combines belief in the Trinity with a recognition of the war-torn nature of this world. It's a view of the world that understands that there are good and bad spirits significantly involved in the affairs of the world. It argues that the scope and intensity of suffering and evil we experience in this world are only adequately accounted for when viewed against the backdrop of a cosmic war between God and Satan. Satan and his angels have their free will and therefore, they have the ability to thwart God's plan. But God will always work with his people to bring good out of evil, often with such effectiveness that it may seem that the evil was planned all along. [Extracts from Satan & The Problem Of Evil]

This is a huge subject to cover in a blog post. My attempts in elaboration are futile to a certain extent I believe, but nevertheless, they are essential. I've only covered a chapter of the book, but I've gained new perspectives and insights concerning the problem of evil. It is time we break free from the cliche of comforting ourselves that it's part of God's divine plan when things screw up or when evil occurs. The fact that this world looks like a warzone is because it is a world at war. Therefore, we as Christians, are all in this war together, to defeat the evil forces of Satan.

Let us stand firm in our beliefs, as we strive to battle against the formidable opponent, Satan and his angels. We may fall, now and then, but as Rorschach's final words go: We should never compromise; even if it's Armageddon.

In the quiet of my 3 walls and a door, I ponder. It was the first night of Fragments, a production of PKVUM. Everything went well, except for a few technical flaws which displayed how human we all are.

The last few days were exhaustive. I skipped the whole day of class today and slept till 3pm. But after so much has been said and done, the only thought I have is: What was I doing?

Now it happened as they went that He entered a certain village; and a certain woman named Martha welcomed Him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who also sat at Jesus' feet and heard His word. But Martha was distracted with much serving, and she approached Him and said, "Lord, do You not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Therefore, tell her to help me." And Jesus answered and said to her, "Martha, Martha, you are worried and troubled about many things. But one thing is needed, and Mary has chosen that good part, which will not be taken away from her."

Luke 10:38-42

It's not that I'm questioning anyone involved in Fragments or the production itself. I'm not implying that Fragments isn't necessary and we are all to pray and go for bible study on a Tuesday night instead. Because we are also called to make disciples of all nations, to preach the gospel of good news. I'm questioning myself.

I can't seem to worship when I serve. What's worse, I'm a more severe case of Martha. At least she was busy with serving because Jesus was there. I'm involved in Fragments, but just like any other production and events I've been involved in, I find it hard to get myself spiritually involved. I have time for many things, practice and all, but I don't have time to even say a simple prayer (excluding corporate prayers). Even right now, I'd rather blog than read the Bible, after a long day. It is so that I question myself, what am I doing all these for? Is it a showcase of talents I have? A mere responsibility, because I'm a PKV-ian? A duty because I've been asked to help out?

Well, I don't glorify myself, I don't gloat in the spotlight. When I play the guitar, I just play the guitar. I enjoy it but nothing else. I try as much as possible to worship, to sing with conviction. But with the guitar in my hands, I find it hard. I don't understand how people actually worship with an instrument. Consciously, I cannot. And partly maybe, I have not spent enough time with my God. I have not taken time to sit at His feet, to listen and not talk, to stop being distracted with serving for once.

I do not want to stay Martha. I want to be a combination of Mary and Martha. Maybe it is only good that I lay down my guitar for some time after tomorrow's Fragments. I should not serve, unless I get it right.    

Of Writings, Fat People, And Change

"You couldn't effect change with a song. You could only write about what was inside you. And folk music was, fat people."

Jack Rollins, I'm Not There.

In the 1960's, Bob Dylan sang songs of protests against the Establishment. His songs became anthems of both the civil rights movements and of those opposed to the Vietnam War. Above, was a phrase taken from the biographical film of Bob Dylan's life. Jack Rollins, in the film, was a metaphorical figure of one aspect of Bob Dylan's life. By the end of 1963, Bob Dylan stopped protesting. He felt manipulated and constrained by the folk and protest movements.

Malaysia is in a severe political turmoil. Perak is in a state of impasse. Politically motivated blogs, bloggers are everywhere. I'm guilty as charged; I feel like one too. There were times I felt tempted to join the crowd, to write anti-Establishment posts, to speak my heart out on the political situation in Malaysia.

But how much change could we really effect with what we write?

It is sad to see our country in such a political crisis, as never before. What more, when it's happening in my own state, my hometown. Each of us can blog all we want about corruption, power abuse, and money politics. We can hurl and heap insults on the government, the ruling party and specific worthless leaders. We can write about what is inside us. But that is all we can do. At the end of it, we are all just fat people.

And even fat people varies one from another. Even in Perak, legal experts have different opinions on which party is right, which is wrong; which move is constitutional, which is not. Yes, we are not satisfied and we cry out for justice. But justice doesn't come with writings, blog posts, or articles. We can read, be informed and that's about it. We are an impasse ourselves.

We are desperate for change, for political redemption in Malaysia. But change doesn't come in form of songs. Nor writings.

Just Another Song Stuck In My Head

Blue October
She's My Ride Home

We talked
Together sharpening the knife
Like killing partners for a life
Hey we can hide the bodies on the ride home

Now here we are
We're licking skin to wipe us clean
Strike a match, pour gasoline
Ditch the scene and watch this city burn
Asleep, my life will be a pillow steering wheel turn

I'll be reaching for the stars with you (honey)
Who cares if no one else believes
So I, set fire to everyone around
But I told you
I told you
I told you

So ha ha ha ha
Ha ha ha ha
Yeah we won

We drive
To leave the past and clear the mind
To watch the sunset set it's time
I swear you'll find
I'm your ride home

Now close your eyes
Its' getting dark and the highways clear
No sign of life from front to rear
Its just you my dear
On the ride home
We're going home

I'll be reaching for the stars with you (honey)
Who cares if no one else believes
So I, set fire to everyone around
But I told you
I told you
I told you

So ha ha ha ha
Ha ha ha ha
Yeah we won

We talked
Together sharpening a knife
Like killing partners for a life
Hey we can hide the bodies on the ride home
Cause we're going home

I'll be reaching for the stars with you (honey)
Who cares if no one else believes
So I, set fire to everyone around
But I told you
I told you
I told you

So ha ha ha ha (we won)
Ha ha ha ha (oh yeah we won)
Ha ha ha ha (we won)
Ha ha ha ha
Yeah we won
Yeah we won

You; You You You You You

I've always maintained that I'm a moderate person, who takes moderate measures, and live with moderate decisions. But I realised now that I'm not. In fact, I'm an extremist. I can change in a matter of a few days. I take risks, I make extreme decisions. For example, at times, I feel that I can do anything, and everything, to the point I tell myself I'm "perfect". Yet, at times (like this), I feel like a total failure. I'm intimidated by people, things, and everything around me; losing grip on how "good" I am.

For someone who thinks he is perfect, coming to terms with reality that he is not, is not always easy. But I admit that, yes, I'm no God. I'm nothing but cells and water.

It has always been my stand that blogging is no place for any relationships stuff. It makes the blog all jiwang and mushy and yeah, you get my drift. But because of the extremist nature in me, I'm hopping over to the opposition party; just like the corrupted politics in my beloved country. Yet, I cannot be despised for not having any ideals, and betraying my voter's trust and confidence in me because I'm no politician. Change is certain, and change is good; especially when you see things from a different perspective and with different reason.

Today, this post is about my relationship with you. I'm sorry that it has to end this way, but even right now, I've no regrets on the decision I've made. I'm sorry, because I'm temperamental. I'm sorry because I thought I can commit to a relationship only to find myself unable to give the commitment a relationship requires. It's never my intention to hurt you over and over again, or come and go as I please. I'm sorry that I'm an extremist. I'm sorry for saying I love you when I'm not capable of loving. I'm sorry it's back to square one.

You've never said you're unhappy with me. At least not to my face. But deep down inside, I know better. Even in your writings, it's clear. I'm a selfish, self-centered, bad-tempered jerk. Yes, I am everything that you say I am. You've given much in this relationship, I have not. It's not going to work that way, I know. You said that breakup is not a solution to you, but to me, it's the only and the best way we both can take. I'm not taking the easy way out, but because of who I am, I have to make certain decisions.

Someone told me that maybe I have to learn the lesson of commitment before I can be in any relationships. That God wants me to solve this issue I struggle with. I know to you, all this is a load of crap, because you have heard it from me before. The response you gave me was, how come I never thought of or deal with this issue before starting a relationship? I'm human, I'm flawed. I make mistakes. I took the risk, and put your feelings at stake. Again, I'm sorry. For who am I, to gamble on people and their feelings, just because of my own feelings? I'm selfish.

Not everything that happens, happens with a specific divine purpose. I have my self-determining freedom. I am the ultimate cause and explanation for my behaviour and decisions. Nevertheless, it will be good, in the long run. God is working to bring good out of everything. And when the war is over, and God is victorious, everything will be good.

But for now, we're all in this war together.

Shadow Of The Day

Blogging comes upon me in waves. There was a period I was a blogging enthusiast. There was a period (and still having occasional periods) of blog-suicide contemplations. My soul, my spirit, speaks naught of the state in which I currently reside.

Nevertheless, after spitting out fireballs of posts without much meaning, my system is cleansed. Even so, the cleansing is temporal, for as much as sense lives in me, nonsense lives in me like a conficker worm in an external hard disk: it cannot be removed. (now for those more technical, of course the worm can be removed by formatting the external but putting it in equal terms would mean brainwashing me)

Thus, having said that, I proceed now with this post.

Of late, I feel like a ghost. Given, I would have chosen a word less spooky and with more elegance but sometimes, the basic term is the best expression of the mind. Eating is a routine, sleeping is unnecessary, living is labour. Under normal conditions, I eat in a no holds barred manner, to the point of abnormality. I have lost this passion. Eating is to me a duty. Each spoonful of stuff I put in my mouth is just because I have a responsibility to my body. To not let it wither. I love sleep, I still do and always will. But I find it becoming unnecessary and that I can do without pretty much of it. I can stay awake till 5am, sleep for near 5hours, and go the day without naps. I find it hard to sleep. It's like; fear of sleep. The human life is a labour. Don't get me wrong; Lord, I know I still have You. Yet, tis' so hard to live when living is a routine. I refuse to be a machine.

Stop these thoughts in me. Yet, as long as I live, my thoughts live with me. However, I figured out that my thoughts can be alive, but not living. And so, I shut my thoughts up in the prison of my mind, choosing to live each day with blankness and simplicity. And without living thoughts, I'm naught but flesh and bones. A physical body that I do not own, preserved by mere humanity. No, this is not a severe case of boredom, nor depression. Talk to me; you'd find me perfectly happy, normal, and myself. But yet, I ask this question:

Who am I?

My existence ceases with each passing moment. And I question, what is my existence? Why do I exist? Yes, I have heard much; so much, that the answer becomes the problem: it becomes routined. Therefore, I'm no longer seeking for the answer in your mind, one which you want to comfort me with. I'm seeking for something more. Something more than an answer..

The Chronicles of Wadeland: His Story

Once upon a time in a land unbeknownst to man, lived a breathtakingly beautiful Wade. His name is Wadefish. He was the only creature in the land that has sense, enough at least to cover the entire Wade population. Now, I believe you may be asking questions as such: What is a Wade? In a coconutshell, a Wade is basically a creature that exists. Therefore, a Mathematical equation will be as such:

Wade = Existence

Therefore, none can truly say, "Look, bro. I'm no Wade. I don't belong to your stupid story.", because etched deeply inside everyone one of us, is a Wade. Now, that brings us to the next question, which would simply be: What Wade am I then? I, for one, do not yet know exactly the nature which determines one's Wade, but all I can say is, it's pretty much up to the Fish.

Back to the story.

Now, one fine and bright morning, Wadefish was taking a stroll along the river when he noticed aimless Wades sitting around the banks of the river. They were not doing anything at all; and if you know the exact definition of doing nothing, you'd pretty much get the idea that these Wades were as good as dead. Wadefish, overwhelmed with compassion for these helpless, useless Wades, immediately decided to do something. And so, he formed the Wade Clan, recruited all these Wades, and called each one of them by name. His purpose was to give them an aim in life, something which they can live and die for. And the land which they dwelt in was given the name - Wadeland.

To be continued...

Will.I.Am:
I'm S S S Sorry
I'm S S S Sorry
I Didn't Mean To Break Your Heart
I Didn't Mean To Break Your Heart
I'm S S S Sorry
I'm S S S Sorry
I Didn't Mean To Break Ya
B B B B Break It Baby
Look Baby
I'm A Heartbreaker
I'm A Heartbreaker
I'm A Heartbreaker
I'm A Heartbreaker

Cheryl Cole:
You're A Heartbreaker
You're A Heartbreaker
You're A Heart

Both:
A H H H H I'm A Heart
A H H H I'm a

Defence of the Ancients

There exists a computer game. A game by the name, Defence of the Ancients. I am made of flesh and spirit. While my spirit is the Sentinel in the game, my flesh is the Scourge. They are constantly at war.

5 heroes aside, the battle begins. Sentinel has Christianity, Will, Conscience, Family, and Friends. Scourge has Movies, Games, Computer, Sleep, and Enemies-With-Undisclosed-Identities. In me, Sentinel is always fighting a losing battle.

Sentinel's towers and raxes are always down, and Scourge are always inside the base, waiting outside the Fountain of Life . Most of the heroes in Sentinel are weak and their levels are low. Only Will and Conscience are weakly resisting. Most of them have no items. If they do, the items would be basic items to lengthen their survival by a few seconds. Everytime they respawn, its an almost-immediate death for them if they don't stay near the fountain enough. Any attempts of resistance will result in another tens of seconds of respawning time.

So, why is Scourge so strong in me? Why are they overwhelming? Because I have fed them, and they have farmed and grown very fat indeed. They have reached level 25. Their items are godlike. Most heroes have evasion, critical strike, cleaving damage, lifesteal and permanent stun. Given enough time and rematches, they'd probably be able to even break the Fountain of Life, one day. The Tree of Life is a goner.

What do you do then, in these situations?

I'd say, QUIT THE GAME.

I am no leaver by nature, but if certain circumstances prevail, nature may change. - The Great Clarence