Bad Luck...

Comes in threes? Never has a saying filled me with more dread than this one. See this month alone, I've had two brushes with bad luck. Firstly, I' had my handbag snatched off me as I exited from the bank. This guy ran up and literally cut the handbag off my shoulder and ran off into the night. I lost my wallet which held my credit cards, my ATM card, my membership cards, my little diary, my pill box, my compact mirrors, my anti-plastic recyclable bag, my money, my mother's cheque book request form, a bunch of cheques, my mobile phone and here's the kicker, my month old, barely used, birthday gift; digital camera! I'm still weeping inside about that. I barely recovered from that. I am firm believer in the Law of Attraction and being mugged was something I was absolutely certain would never happen to me. It happened and my belief system is now shaken.

When I told my mother, I was given the lecture about 'asking for it'. That's something else I don't believe in. Bad things happen and I don't believe in blaming the victim. No one walks around with a neon sign saying rob me, hurt me, hit me, rape me...whatever. That's not how it works. It's the law of the jungle. So I was upset that Iw as robbed and then I was annoyed that I was being blamed. It's only natural I suppose it doesn't make it easier. When something happens, it's human nature to want to blame something or someone. It was the reason religion got started in the first place. So in a case like this, the only person left to blame is the victim.

Things had just started to settle a little after the mugging and I had driven up to Penang with my father and then was driving down with my mother when it happened. We were just out of the tunnel after the Kuala Kangsar bridge, on a winding downhill road when we had come up to a traffic jam. I've traveled this road a thousand times and I've never seen the traffic stopped like that. I pulled into the left lane of this two lane highway and put the car into park and waited for them to let us on our way. All I remember is seeing this big blue and yellow delivery truck coming up behind me and for a heartbeat it didn't make any sense, all the cars were stopped and here was this truck moving. Then I finally realised what I was seeing, this truck was coming between the two lanes! I threw my arm across my mother in the seat next to me, slid down into my seat because my seat belt doesn't work, put my foot on the brake and braced my arm against the steering wheel. (And yes, I realise now that bracing my arm against the wheel like that was an incredibly stupid thing to do. A hard impact would break my arm. So for future reference DON'T DO THAT!!!!!) Anyway, back to the story. I feel an impact because the Toyota Unser behind me smacked into me. For two heartbeats I thought that would be it, but I was wrong because the car jolted forward and smacked into the Toyota Hilux in front of me. The runaway delevery truck had bounced off the Unser behind me and scraped along the Hilux in front tearing off a side view mirror and coming to a stop wedged between the Hilux and the little lorry in the right lane. Now I drive a dinky little Proton Wira Aeroback Sports Edition and both the Toyotas are big solid things. The impact on the front was especially bad because the Hilux is a huge four wheel drive with a high rear end. My bonnet folded up like an accordion and the inside of my car got pushed a good five inches from the front bumper. Stepping out of the car, I could the hiss of gas escaping. There was tow truck in the line of cars behind us who thankfully stopped, helped, got us out of harms way and towed us to the nearest police station and workshop and so on. Bottom line, I'm out of a car for about a month.

One of the first things my mother said to a relative that called us right after the accident was that it's 'my daughter's bad time'. Way to play blame game mom. After these two, I'm wondering what's in store for me. I am trying hard not to think about the dreaded third time but it's there at the back of my mind.

I am determined to look at this positively. I did not lose anything that could not be replaced. Yes, it will cost some money and possibly a lot of time but I'm safe and my mother is unhurt so thi was a good thing. There's also a saying that the third time's the charm...so maybe the third time will be a blessing or a spot of fabulous good luck. Here's to the third time!

Just Me.

Mugged

I went to the bank that was right around the corner from my home. It was late but I'd done this a thousand times before with no incident. This time I was not so lucky. I was getting into my car when I heard a shout. I made the mistake of turning and I already had one foot in the car. He ran at me and grabbed my handbag. I held on to it but thenI saw the knife. As much as I wanted to hold onto the bag I did not want to risk it. He grabbed the bag and cut the strap and he was gone. Running off into the night. It was 2 minutes from start to finish. I lost my wallet containing my credit cards, my atm card, my identification card, my driving license, my mobile phone, my brand new digital camera plus a bunch of cheques. It was one hell of a night. I can't get the face of the fat son of a bitch out of my head and I desperately want to put this behind me. Being as firm a believer in the law of attraction as I am, I do not understand how this happened in the first place and I do not want this miasma of negative energy attracting more 'bad luck' my way.
Ironically, had I been the person I was a year ago, I would have fought back harder. I had nothing to lose back then and no knife would have deterred me. The last year has been a turning point and I didn't want to risk being injured but really more importantly being disfigured.
I am upset. I have searched my feelings and I think I am most upset because of the way I reacted or didn't in this case. I have always prided myself on my street smarts, I have always prided myself on my spacial awareness. I have always believed that I would react better in this situation and I would handle myself better and that no pathetic knife wielding punk of a man would ever get the better of me. I behaved in the exact opposite manner. I screamed, I hung on to my bag ineffectually and I got mugged. I could have kicked him away, I could have shut the door on him, I shouldn't have turned when he yelled, a million things I could have done and yet nothing changes the fact that I behaved appallingly. I was the epitome of damsel in distress. It is a stereotype that I hate and I hate that I embodied it today. Once I'd cancelled my cards and my phone and my atm card, I am ashamed to say that I was actually in tears. So now I'm ashamed. It's another dirty little secret to add to my laundry list of dirty secrets. If I ever see the little fucker again I will fucking cut his balls off! I want my camera back goddamnit, it was brand new!
Fuck what a night!
Eshwari

Birthdays

My birthday came and went almost a week ago now and I am still feeling the effects of it. I do not know when exactly the melancholy kicked in. Was it when I woke up and felt alone? Was it when I went about my day alone, whiling away my time before the birthday dinner? Was it the day itself when I thought about how life has passed me by? I'm a year older and what have I to show for myself? Was it when my aunt called to wish me a happy birthday and then choked on her tongue when she realised my age?

Truth be told, I am not too unhappy with the way things are. Maybe that is the problem. I am content. Although complacent would be a better word for it. I am not where I want to be but I don't know where I want to be. I am constantly hoping that the right thing will come along and but despite my talent and skill (which are more than adequate) I have find myself in this stagnant pool where I've lost my motivation, I'm constantly looking to escape my responsibilities and more often than not, find it in frivolous things.

The truth is, there is no better cure for lethargy than hard work. The problem is inertia. A body in motion wants to stay in motion and a body that is not in motion wants to stay still. Enough with the procrastination, I have decided that I will buck. I know age is but a number on a card somewhere, I know I have skill and talent and intelligence to spare. I have decided that until I find my passion, I will work at whatever comes my way.

Hopefully I will find my passion before work bloody well kills my soul.

Just me.

Stupidity...thy name is Religion

I have just been reading the newspapers and I'm disgusted. Absolutely disgusted. Some stupid fucking idiot of a priest wrote an article in a church newsletter and then translated it to Malay. Incorrectly! Apparently, this idiot used the word Allah as a translation for God. This has stirred up a hornet's nest of trouble as can be imagined. I mean, of course the Muslims are pissed off. I would be pissed off. Well ok, maybe I would be a little confused but ultimately I would be annoyed. I respect the religious views of others so long as my own religious views are respected.
It's one of the edicts of Christianity that God's name is not to be taken in vain and the fact of the matter is, Allah isn't a translation for God, it's the name of God!
I don't know that I would be pissed off, truth be told because having some guy from another religion professing admiration or adoration for your God would be a good thing. Unfortunately that's where the press comes in. Our country is in the beginning stages of some kind of political revolution. The youth of the country are becoming more involved in politics, it's beginning to look like everyone has an opinion about everything. We've gone from having the Asian mentality of keeping our heads down and getting our work done to speaking up and expressing ourselves. The downside is of course that the empty drims make the most noise. So of course the ones garnering attention in the media are the morons with abso-fucking-lutely nothing to say!
I swear if I get my hands on the jackass who wrote this article and started this mess, I'll give him a swift kick up his backside!
Just ME!

Friends

It was 2.00 o’clock in the afternoon on the 28th of August 2001. I sat in the front row of the classroom, waiting for the lecturer of my Constitutional Law class. Most of my classmates had assembled. A little later, the door opens and in walks this tall young man with, what to me, seemed like a girl on each arm. He was a young Chinese lad with a really thick silver bracelet on one arm, eye catching silver rings on the fingers of his right hand and sunglasses on. He didn’t remove the shades even though he was indoors and I was struck by how incredibly ‘dangerous’ he looked. Now had anyone asked me at that point whether I would be anything more than a classmate to this young man, I would have laughed. Truth be told, I was not planning on forming any lasting friendships. I was in a bad place in my life at that time. I was planning on completing my studies and being done with it. No attachments, no strings, get in and out without getting involved in any way. Eight years on, that young man is one of my closest friends. I just attended his wedding and he married another classmate in a beautiful ceremony that was followed by a splendid reception.
It has been a long and adventurous journey and I wouldn’t change it for anything. In fact, I even welcome the events that led up to that fateful meeting. I cannot regret the awful events that led to my presence in that classroom. If I were to regret the path I had chosen, it would mean regretting the friends I have made in that time. I could never regret the friends that I have made, not even inadvertently. Two friends have been polarizing influences in the last 8 years and both of them I met that day. The first was not the young man that caught my eye in class. The first was a sweet, young, innocent of a girl, who like me was nervous enough about being unable to find the classroom in time that she, like me, had shown up a full thirty minutes before class had begun. It is perhaps unusual that in a class of only 18 students I had found not one but two kindred spirits. I did not know it then but that meeting marked the beginning of a journey that is still ongoing today. A journey that I hope will last our lifetimes. Though we have each embarked on routes and pathways that vary and at times we meander through life with minimal contact, yet our hearts and spirits are always entwined.

God Grant Me Patience

This is an update about the planned trip to the US that my family was supposed to make. Unfortunately because they spent so much time ‘faffing’ about the details of the trip, it never happened. So it fell to me to plan a mini vacation for my mother and sister in lieu of the US trip.
The downside of that plan was of course the fact that I was still planning this mini vacation for the same fickle, hard to please, bunch of people. Needless to say, I faced the same problems. I finally settled taking them on little two day breaks to places like Lumut, Genting, and Port Dickson. Of course, I planned it around the myriad of things that my mother had to do. While she was willing to put aside these things for a trip to the States, obviously she wasn’t going to put it aside for these mini vacations.
Despite my careful planning, my entire schedule went to hell in a hand basket. Firstly my mother didn’t want to go to Lumut, she preferred to go to Genting Highlands instead. In accordance with her wishes, we decided that we would spend more time in the casino in Genting instead. However, in keeping with our bad luck, there was a landslide on the road to Genting. My mother then vetoed the trip up the Highland, which even I was understandably nervous about, considering I would be the one doing the driving. Anyway, the three location mini vacation became just a single overnight stay at Port Dickson, because I had vouchers for a 2 day 1 night stay at a place called Eagle Ranch Resort. The brochure looked very inviting and we were excited about it. However, it was only upon arrival that we discovered an isolated ranch style resort, miles away from the beach with nothing to recommend it but the groovy living quarters. I could go on about the horrible place but that’s another story altogether.
So my sister was on a month long break and we effectively did nothing at all. She was happy to do nothing and during that month, so was my mother. However, the moment the month ended, my mother began complaining about the lack of activity, which admittedly I completely expected. I knew going into this month of ‘relaxation’ that I would be damned if I do, damned if I don’t. True to my expectations that was exactly what happened.
Instead my mother, my sister and I spent the entire month shopping, visiting family and just generally lounging. I played chauffeur to them 24/7 for an entire month and then drove them up north when my sister’s holiday ended, spent a week there preparing for Deepavalli, and celebrated the Festival of Lights up north with my extended family. My only consolation for this hellish nightmare was the fact that I looked awesome. The weight loss is marvellous. I feel fantastic and I look almost normal, i.e. I don’t look like the Marshmallow Man, or woman.
So after babysitting my mother and sister for a month, driving them around and catering to their fickle whims, I am now stuck babysitting my father! Dear God, give me the patience to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things that I can and the wisdom to know the difference. Most of all, I beg you dear God, give me the strength to survive my family!
Just Me.

Alienation

I feel strangely disconnected. Strangely I say, though truth be told, it’s hardly strange that I feel alone in this surging tide pool of human interaction. It is impossible to feel alone if you’re alone. Loneliness only hits when you compare your own lack of company to the company those around you keep. When you’re by yourself it doesn’t bother you that all you have are your thoughts. Most often those thoughts are highly informative and deeply enlightening. When you’re by yourself in a crowd, only then is loneliness brought home to you. As I sit here by myself surrounded by the families and friends, I feel alone. I feel cut off. I am an island of solitude in a sea of grasping connectivity. I do not wish this loneliness, this melancholy, yet in the same breath I do not wish the company of others. I have yearned for independence and now it lays shining within my grasp but loneliness eats away at my resolve. Loneliness in a crowd. Only in a crowd can the fact of your loneliness be made plain to you. Only in the face of the abundance of kinship can your own lack be made abundantly clear. My loneliness has been made clear to me. I resent it, yet I welcome it.
Just Me.

Travel and Living

My family is going to visit my brother in the United States next month. I have been asked many times why I don't choose to go with them on these trips. Truth is, I miss my brother. I miss very much. He is the only brother I have and I haven't laid eyes on him in ten years. However, the thought of travelling to America to see him with my entire family is less than appealing.
Let me recap the tale of this year's trip thus far. Bear in mind, they plan to take this trip next month and my father should be joining them from wherever in the world he will be at that time. Also remember, that this trip has been talked about for about three months already. We've yet to book the tickets, in fact, until two weeks ago we did not know when in September they would leave. Admittedly, the uncertainty was unavoidable because my sister is in her third year of university and the college hadn't released the exam timetable until two weeks ago. My mother refuses to travel on her own, so they had to wait for my sister. It would cost more for my father to fly back to Malaysia and then fly with my mother. So I understand the delay in pinning down the date of travel.
But the "debating" that has been going on since then. I'm not even going on this blasted trip and I'm annoyed beyond belief. My mother made a fuss about the 5 hour stopover, she made a fuss about the port of entry, she made a fuss about whether she could trust the men in our family to show up at said port of entry when they said they would, she made a fuss about the cost of the flight tickets. My father, dithered about port of entry, whether he would be able to get time off to even go on this vacation, whether he could plan it in a way that would coincide with a business trip so he could claim the airfare, whether he needed to spend all that time with my brother, the cost of the tickets, the timing of the vacation, the port of entry (yes again), the timing of the vacation, whether he'd be able to make it, whether my brother would be able to make it, whether they should break the journey in San Francisco.
My brother in a fit of extreme organisation, went ahead and booked his tickets to Frisco the moment he had the dates. Oh my god! He's gone ahead and booked himself a seven day break in Frisco. Of course that doesn't sit well with my father because, it wasn't his plan. And my mother is fussing about the extremely long journey home that she will have to make.
My solution, spend 7 days in Frisco and come the fuck home! I feel for my brother, he hasn't seen my mom in 2 years but dude, if he would just get his act together and sort out his bloody PR, he wouldn't have this problem. He could just come HOME for a visit.
All this drama, for a simple fucking family vacation! I'm running my tail off trying to coordinate this and I'M NOT EVEN GOING!!!!
At this point the fact that I'm not going is a bloody good thing...because I would have bitten someone's head off by now.
Bloody Hell!
Just Me.

The Mall Hop

My friend and I have recently embarked on a quest. It is a quest of discovery and it is one which we have unknowingly begun.

It started as a way to relieve boredom. Coupled with my new found skill behind the wheel and a more than adequate ability to navigate, we decided to go mall hopping. Now anyone who knows me will readily attest to the fact that I am not a great shopper. However, my friend is an avid one and rather than spend time cooped up in one another's houses, this is what we came up with. I am still trying to put in order all my thoughts regarding the malls we have visited so far, but once I have I will post about it, as per my promise to my shopper pal.

Just Me.

The Vagaries of Memory

Every creature on the planet, be it mammal, reptile, insect or bird, share one feature; a brain. Every brain, regardless of what it belongs to, share one feature; memory. Animals use this function to remember the location of food and danger.

Human beings, are so advanced intellectually that we have created devices that remember for us. Mobile phones, PDAs, and so on. These devices remember with no bias and that is very necessary. This is because memory like truth, depends very much upon your point of view. No memory is infallible, personal beliefs, opinions and emotions colour every thing.

It is difficult to explain and many will likely disbelieve it, but our view of the world depends very much on the precepts that lie within our mind. The mind is all powerful, and the beliefs it holds can alter our very reality.

Case in point, I have a fairly accurate memory but there are occasions where my memory differs from the recollection of others. This is mostly true of situations with my mother. She rarely ever remembers things the same way that I do. This is why remembering devices are so important. Although knowing my mother, she wouldn't even believe the evidence of such devices. I dread to think that this is what I have to look forward to.

Just Me.

The Best And The Worst

Tragedy brings out the worst in people. My family recently went through a tragedy and I have discovered the truth of this saying.

My grand uncle passed away on Sunday. He was a 66 year old with a history of heart trouble, yet his passing was a complete shock. He left behind a wife and 4 boys and a whole host of extended family. It turns out that he was also very active politically and will be sorely missed by those who knew him.

The man that he was is not the point of this entry. The point of this entry is how in times of crises, our deepest, darkest neuroses rise to the surface. Given that in times of loss, like a funeral, family is thrown together in close quarters for extended periods, this is not a good thing.

In the Hindu faith, there are a series of rites, rituals and prayers that have to be followed. So in times of loss, not only does the family have to deal with the loss of a loved one, we have to bloody run around like headless chicken organising a series of ceremonies. Organising a single ceremony is monumental enough, but to have to do it time and again over the course of a month is just plain exhausting. Of course, all this in addition to living day to day is just a disaster waiting to happen.

Of course, given the family I come from, disaster waiting to happen is putting it mildly. My family is a walking disaster area, on a good day and in times like this, well, you get the idea. So here I am stuck playing intermediary for paranoid, drama fed old ladies who have been lying in wait for an occassion like this. It's like these old crones have nothing else to bloody do with their time except brood in a corner all day, watching tamil serials and feed their own delusions of grandeur.

So I have a week more of putting up with this powder keg parading as a family before I am free of them for awhile. Wish me luck.

Just Me.

Tradition

Some times, people do things the way they do things, because that's the way they've always done things and they refuse to do things in a new way even though there is irrefutable proof that there is a better of doing things and then it's become tradition when all they really mean is FUCKING habit!
Just Me.

Mother's Day

Mother's Day. It's a day you show your mother you appreciate her. My initial thought was 'what bollocks!'. Mother's day is just so much commercial bullshit conjured up by the greeting card company. Somehow over time, the greeting card companies, the florists have brainwashed all of us into believing that a card on this one special day of the year makes up for the fact that we take our mothers for granted the rest of the year. It's like how the florists have men believing that a bouquet of flowers will make up for the fact that they've been callous assholes.

Anyway, that was my initial thought. I have however, begun to see some merit in it. Don't get me wrong, I don't buy into any of the hullabaloo over cards and flowers and gifts and such. However, I look at Mother's Day as a kind of birthday. It's one day in the year when I overlook all the myriad ways that my mother drives me up the wall. I try not to give rein to my anger or irritation.

I love my mother. I truly love her and she's a really wonderful person. I just don't like her very much. She is demanding and unreasonable and old-fashioned and paranoid and quite simply annoys the living daylights out of me. So for one day in the whole year...two if you count her birthday, I bite my tongue and let her interfering, inane remarks roll off me like water off a duck's back.

Dear God, give me strength!

Just Me.

Disconnect

I have come to believe that all mammals are biologically programmed to want to leave the nest at a certain age. This 'disconnect' function is evident in all mammals including the human animal. However, in humans, this 'disconnect' age happens later in life. You see, unlike the young of most other animals, young humans are quite fragile and require the guidance and protection of the adlut for longer. This is because we have evolved different purposes to our existence and set ourselves apart from mere animals.

However, this biological need to leave the nest so to speak is one that we cannot overcome. I have the utmost respect for those who can overlook this call of nature and live with their parents well into adulthood. In Asian families it is quite common for extended families to stay together under one roof and I cannot fathom how that is possible. I believe that at a certain point in our adult lives, it becomes quite impossible to live with our parents. I know I can't. Well I can but not all the time. I value my privacy and my space. Don't get me wrong I love my family but I do not want to and simply cannot deal with them 24 hours a day. If I were stranded on a desert island with my family, I would shoot myself.

Take my advice, move out, move on, don't kid yourselves.
Just Me.

The Battle of the Bulge

Diet plan for 1500 kcal/d

Breakfast : 8 - 9 am
2 slices of bread (white)/wholemeal+vegetables+egg/tuna/sardine/keju
@1 small bowl rice/mee/bee hoon/kuey teow+vegetable+chicken/egg/tofu
@1 piece capati/dosai+dhal
@6 pieces biscuit (without sugar)

1 cup of coffee/tea
+ 3 spoons of non-fat or lowfat milk

Lunch: 12 - 2 pm/ Dinner 6 - 8 pm (four hours before bedtime)
1 small bowl rice/mee/bee hoon/kuey teow
@1 piece capati/dosai
@2 slices bread white/wholemeal
+1 piece (3 ounces) chicken/fish/meat
+1 cup leafy greens/beans
+1 portion fruit
*Fried food/santan allowed only once per day
*only 2 spoons of gravy per meal

Tea time 3-4pm/Supper (if hungry) 10-11pm
3 pieces biscuits (no sugar)
@1 slice of bread white/wholemeal
@1 piece of 'kuih tanpa gula'

1 cup of tea/coffee
+2 spoons of nonfat/lowfat milk

chew food till liquid
drink water only 30 minutes after meal


According to a dietician, this is the best sort of diet plan to lose 4 kilogrammes in a month. This coupled with 30 minutes of exercise per day. Is there any wonder that there are so many miracle cures out there? Or that there are so many overweight, demotivated people in the world. Yikes. Let's see how long I last.

Just Me.

Can't live with em...can't live without em

Families are best taken in small doses. I envy those families that can stand to be in each other's presence for extended periods of time. I know for a fact that there are extended families who until today live under one roof. This is a long honoured Eastern tradition and really I don't see how that works in this day and age.
I can't even spend a week with my family without going completely out of my mind. I suppose I am used to being on my own and not having my actions questioned. I am used to having a reason for actions being taken.
To top it all off I have no patience for imaginary schedules and pointless urgency. I do not like to be rushed. I do enjoy time with family, they are my family after all and they are the people who know me well, at least on the surface of it. They know my history. I have come to realise that as I have set off on my individual journey, I have history unknown to my family and they are no longer people who know me the best. In fact, over the past year I have come to realise that my family no longer knows me at all.
I have outgrown them. What is truly sad is that my family does not realise that
I am no longer the same person I once was. It is a sad fact of life and one that cannot be changed. Truth be told I do not know if I would want to. As much as they no longer know who I am, the reverse that I do not know who they are is also true.
Just Me.

ColoUr Quiz

Eshwari took the free ColorQuiz.com personality test! "Longs for tenderness and for a sensitivity of feel..." Click here to read the rest of the results.

Till London...

As I blogged about the start of the Olympic Games, I felt it only fitting that I write about the end of the historic 29th Olympiad. I was not as impressed by the closing ceremony as I was by the opening, not least because I was fuming throughout the event.
I have specifically paid more for the Astro Sports package so that I could enjoy extended coverage of the Games. We have not been offered an Olympic package, no, as existing customers of Astro we have to simply add on to our current subscription. I have even resigned myself to endure the downgrade fee that will be imposed once I cancel my Sports package subscription. With all the money that Astro is making off us, their customers, one would imagine that we would be given the priority in whatever they screen. However, that was not the case during the broadcast of this ceremony.
It was a live telecast, but it was interrupted every 15 minutes or so by the airing of a sponsor’s advertisement. I mean the greed of this company is monumental. They get paid enormous amounts of money by their customers all over Malaysia. Yet, it appears their greed knows no bounds. Why else would they disrespect their existing clientele by interrupting a LIVE telecast to bombard us with useless, pointless, annoying as hell adverts from supposed sponsors! How fucking rude! Bloody Maxis and fucking Hotlink!
If those advertisers had any sort of sense at all, they would pay a little more attention to the effect that they adverts actually had. I mean I am about ready to swear off Maxis and Hotlink for all eternity. In fact I will advocate that anyone with a Maxis account discontinue it just on the principle of the thing. Bloody idiots!
Just Me.

The Greatest Farce...

I blogged the other day about the start of the 29th Olympiad and there will be no doubt in anyone’s mind that I am an avid follower of the games. It is this sort of international competition that garners my attention, so it won’t be a surprise to any who know me that I am sat in front of my telly avidly watching the games.
Ordinarily I would leave it at that. I mean what would I blog about the games? I appreciate the difficulty of competing at this level and I am in awe of the skill and talent on display. I even confess a little envy because of my own lack of skills. At any rate, I would have been quite happy to let the athletes get on with it and just enjoy the show.
Nevertheless, I have been chivvied from my comfortable cocoon by the repeated airing of two particular advertisements. The first of the pair is the Olympic advertisement. I am not even sure if there is a sponsor involved, but no one will have any doubt about which advertisement I am referring to. It’s the one with this black robed old man with a bit of ‘Zeus’ complex. He stands in the middle of a Greek style pavilion surrounded by athlete dressed in dark gladiatorial style clothes. It’s not the styling of the advert that I have any problem with. It’s a little clichéd, but after all, that’s what the first Olympic games were all about – war skills. No, my problem is with the dialogue. Dear lord, such dialogue! I have never heard such sentimental, corny rubbish in all my life.
He enumerates the many things that the athletes teach us. Against varying backdrops, he starts first with the fastest man in the world who teaches us that every second is precious. The lesson is a little muted as the fastest man is not named, and you never actually get to see his face, instead you see a nondescript black man running among some stallions. Then come the real clangers. He goes on to talk about Yelena Isinbayeva, who currently holds the Olympic gold for pole vaulting. He says “You the girl who can jump the highest, if you can jump that high, there is no obstacle you can’t jump over.” WHAT??? Seriously? Who in the world came up with this line? I mean come on? Are you telling me that the only obstacles are those you can jump over? The stomach churning corniness continues with talk about ‘The Invincible Man’. Yes, you read right, the Invincible Man. And just who does he award this dubious honour to? Roger Federer, the tennis player! I mean who’s judging this? Why is a tennis player invincible? For pity’s sake, if you’re going to be handing out outrageous titles, you may as well, hand them to the right people. There are marathon runners, marathon swimmers, pentathletes, heptathletes, decathletes, long distance runners, long distance rowers, and a whole host of other athletes who deserve the title more. Every time this advertisement airs, it gets my hackles up. Honestly, the people that were responsible for this travesty of an advertisement should all go sit in the corner in a timeout.
The other advertisement that has my back up is the one that introduces us to the Malaysian athletes. Someone obviously thought it was very important that we get to know our athletes. I agree, it is an incredible achievement to qualify for the Olympic Games and the fact that we have athletes in so many categories is in itself something to be proud of. Still, whoever it was that has the bright idea to interview the athletes, should have had the follow through to make sure that the athletes then don’t go on to make asses of themselves. The interview with the archer is especially trying on the nerves. He gives the interview in Chinese, with subtitles running along the bottom of the screen. That isn’t a problem. The problem comes when he decides that at the end of the interview, he has to say something in English. This is what he says, “Aim the moon, shoot the star, be a superstar.” The first time I heard that, I had a serious WTF moment. I mean that sentence doesn’t make ANY sense. Not grammatically, not logically, not philosophically, in fact not in any way. Seriously I blame the segment producer. I mean come on, the guy obviously has not got a good grasp of English. It’s one sentence we could have seriously done without, or, someone could have told him what to say. I mean he must be capable of saying ‘aim for the stars, shoot for the moon, be a superstar.’ Someone could have written it down for him.
This is again indicative of the massive disease of indifference that is pervasive in our society. In my earlier post I spoke about the sheer stupidity of the airport authorities that announced a flight going to India. This is more of the same kind of thoughtlessness that is never ending with Malaysians.
I will probably be posting more examples of Malaysian stupidity, in the vain hope that maybe someone reading this blog will be in the position to do something. Failing which, posting it on my blog will stop me ranting about it to my long-suffering friends.
Just Me.

Savages

A couple of things have happened recently that I really feel I ought to talk about. An uncle of mine was mugged last week. He was literally four doors away from his home on his way back from buying ‘nasi lemak’ at the local hawker. The thieves not only took his money, they also hit him on the head with their motorcycle helmets. I don’t understand that. I get that desperation drives people to do desperate things. My uncle is a frail old man. He’s a diabetic who self-medicates and sometimes over medicates and has fainting fits ever so often. He is the most unassuming person and obviously posed no threat to these thieves. The fact that they hit him is merely an indication that these thugs do this for the violence. If the object of the robbery was the money, then it was unnecessary to hit him. In fact they hit him so hard that he has developed a clot in the brain which the doctors are hoping to dissolve with medication.
As the family was reeling from this attack, another occurred. My aunt’s home was invaded in broad daylight by four men armed with ‘parangs’. By the grace of God no one was injured, as the men did not have much time inside the house. Luckily my aunt is well liked by most of her neighbours and one of her neighbours noticed something awry. The lookout men in the getaway car noticed that the neighbour was about to call the police and so called his accomplices back and the ‘gang’ made their escape.
I can hardly believe that the same family would experience so much tragedy within such a short space of time. I also find it almost impossible to believe the depths that humans can sink to. It is true that with the current state of the economy things are difficult for everyone. I refuse to accept however, that these difficulties warrant the violent crimes that are being committed. My grandmother would say that this is animal like behaviour. I however, believe that to classify it as animal like behaviour would be an insult to animals. Animals do not attack without provocation or reason. No animal would attack for the sheer pleasure of the kill. Only human beings do that. Human beings are the only living things that take pleasure in the destruction. Animals are more interested in their own survival to develop such peculiar tastes. The best I can say about these savages, who commit these crimes, is that someday, they will learn to behave as animals.

The mathematics of indifference

July 16th 9.30 am Kuala Lumpur International Airport.
I sent my mom off to India today. While waiting around anxiously to make sure she actually got onto the flight, I found myself listening to the flight announcements. Imagine my surprise, nay, shock, when I heard the flight announcement for the flight to India. The announcement was first made in Malay which was a little odd, but it is our national language. The announcement was later repeated in English, which is fairly standard as English is the international aviation language. The language of the third repetition of the flight announcement though, that one made my jaw drop. The announcement was in Mandarin! The fourth and final language was Arabic! I was completely flabbergasted. I cannot begin to describe how completely floored I was. Soon that sheer disbelief turned into anger.
Kuala Lumpur International Airport is being touted as the best international airport in the world. We live in a multinational country and Indians are one of the three major races in this country. Despite this, the international airport in this multinational country chooses to ignore the language of this minority group. There is simply no justification for this. The majority of passengers on that flight are Indians; they do not speak Malay or Arabic or Mandarin. The airport blatantly chooses to disregard this statistic and instead makes an announcement for perhaps the one passenger who may be boarding the plane headed for Chennai.
What sheer arrogance? What sheer stupidity! How do these people make any money by treating their customers this way? More importantly, which moron awarded them the title of best international airport?

The Greatest Show on Earth

The Olympics have started! I am ridiculously excited about it. The games of the 29th Olympiad commenced in Beijing last night and let me tell you, it was so worth the wait. I have to hand it to the Chinese, they outdid themselves! Honestly, everything was flawless and so brilliantly excuted. I was so glad that I was watching at home though, I don't think I would enjoyed it half as much had I been stuck in a seat with hundreds of thousands of other people on a hot, muggy night, excitment notwithstanding.
Anyway, where was I? Oh yes! The Opening Ceremony ROCKED! Every little detail was breathtaking. The amazing design of the bird's nest stadium. It looks even more beautiful at night when the lights are turned on inside the structure. It's one aastounding piece of engineering. If that wasn't enough, the performances during the ceremony was again flawless. Thousands and thousands of performers, all of them coordinated and synchronised in a visual display of perfect grace.
The coup de grace of the entire evening was of course, the lighting of the torch. This is an event that signals the official start of the games and the game of one upmanship is rife among host nations. In 2004 the Australians rejoiced that Athens dropped the ball on the lighting of the torch. They held fast to tradition and relied on the grandeur of a gout of flame held high by a giant torch. Many agreed that the Australians had done better, with the fire of the 27th Olympiad rising out of a pool of water. All that pales in comparison to this lighting of the torch. The ingenious design of the torch, the stadium and the spectacular suspended final lap was simply spellbinding. The final resting place of the Flame of Peace was the cherry on the top of this marvellous creation. The torch seemed to curl out of the very stadium, as if the building itself was coming alive to receive and house for the next two weeks the eternal flame of the Olympic Games.
Truly it was one of the events of this decade and the host of the 30th Olympiad will have their work, cut out for them.
Just Me.

Clone Music

I just saw Janet Jackson on the Ellen DeGeneres Show. I’ve never had a strong opinion on music. This is mostly due to the fact that I like music of all sorts. I listen to rock, hip hop, R&B, alternative and even pop. Truth be told, I can’t actually tell apart the genres, it has never been important to me. I am more interested in what sounds good. Now getting back to Janet Jackson on Ellen’s show, well that just rubbed the wrong way.
I am not a Janet Jackson fan. I didn’t follow her music when she was at the top of her game and I barely paid attention to ‘Nipplegate’. However, this performance on Ellen got my undivided attention. It actually made me stop and take notice, but for all the wrong reasons. You see I wasn’t looking at the television when she started performing, and I was busy with something else. If asked, at that point, I would have said that it was Britney Spears. I was shocked when I looked at the television and saw that it wasn’t Britney.
Now like I said, I do not have a very strong opinion on music. What I do have a strong opinion on though, is individualism. I have a very strong opinion about music that sounds the same when you close your eyes. Music used to be the language of the heart. In the 70’s it was the voice of revolution, musicians were the poster people of change and new ideas. Today, there’re algorithms that predict the popularity of each song and the music sounds like it has been assembled on a conveyor belt.
Anyone who doesn’t believe me just has to close their eyes and run the recent hits of artistes like Britney Spears, Janet Jackson, Paula Abdul, Ashlee Simpson and any other number of petite ‘hotties’ with more good looks than talents and more drama in their life than actual substance to their personalities.
Just Me.

An aching tooth is better out than in...

A truer word has never been said. I have taken my teeth for granted for too long in the hopes that if I didn't bother them, they wouldn't bother me. Unfortunately, this strategy doesn't work too well with teeth. They relish attention and ignoring them only makes them mad.

If I sound crazier than usual, it's the fault of the painkillers, I deny all responsibility!

As you can guess, I have a toothache. It's not any ordinary toothache, it's the result of a broken wisdom tooth which defied extraction on Thursday. The dentist after a valiant try finally admitted defeat. So now, I have half a tooth sitting pretty on my upper right jaw, readying itself for the it's round two fight with another dentist on Sunday.

Meanwhile, I am doped up on painkillers and restricted to liquid food for the next three days.

Just (miserable) Me!

Relationship 101

Over the years, I have played Agony Aunt to many, many friends and I've noticed a pattern. Their complaints mainly center around a single theme: relationships. I've heard many variations of this theme; a total lack of a relationship, an over abundance of relationships, not being able to get into or out of a relationship, bad relationships, good relationships, one-sided relationships, even some imaginary relationships. The bottom line is, I've heard them all.

Based on my varied experience, listening to the relationship woes of both sexes, I have a working theory. Many of these problems are caused because too much emphasis is placed on appearance. Even my 'enlightened' male friends, and my 'liberated' female friends all hinge their courtship rituals on appearance. Everyone does this absurd dating dance where they spend a ridiculous amount of time worrying about how to make the first move without actually making the first move, or how to make the other side make the first move. There is an unbelievable amount of stress that goes into attaining this almost mythological 'first move'.

Now after extensive studies, I have observed that what constitutes a first move is different for both genders. On the one hand with women, the first move involves the man asking them out which seems on the face of it, straightforward enough. But nothing is ever that simple. There are certain criteria to the 'asking out'; for instance, it has to be individual, he can't ask you and five other friends, and while the first time need not be dinner and a movie, it can't be the local mamak for an after work 'yam cha' either. My female friend are adamant that they would not do anything until this happens. Even in this day and age, my friends refuse to be the ones to do the asking. I actually have friends who won't even show interest until the guy asks them out.

On the other hand with men, a first move constitutes a show of interest. Any woman out there who thinks men have it easy, has no clue the pressures these boys put on themselves. You see, being men, they haven't exactly defined for themselves what amounts to a show of interest. However, with their fragile egos thrown in the mix, this lack of definition muddies the waters. Men will wait until the get what they perceive to be a sign of interest because they hope that receiving that sign reduces the chance of rejection. In fact, men have a whole defence mechanisms built around avoiding rejection. Really, who can blame them, because let's face it, rejection sucks.

So there's where it stands, my guy friends play it cool and my girl friends play hard to get, but both sides agree, the last thing they want is to look desperate. I'm amazed any of my friends ever got hitched!

I have never bought in to all this hype about first appearances. In my mind, it's all very simple - if the guy is the sort who gets freaked out by a woman who asks him out, he's not the one for me anyway, so it's no skin off my back. If he is the sort of guy who forms a negative opinion of a woman who makes the first move, then I want nothing to do with him and he has no idea what he's missing.

I believe in the old adage: "Be yourself, no matter how crazy or weird. Those who matter won't mind, and those who do, don't matter."

Just Me.

Opening the Pandora's Box...

I was standing in line to buy my cinema ticket to Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull at GSC One Utama yesterday, something I haven't done in a long, long, time. A young couple slipped into the line behind me and started talking. Being alone in the line, I was soon shamelessly eavesdropping on their conversation. (Yes, I know, I know...pathetic, but you hear the most interesting things that way) Anyway, this young couple soon began discussing the selection of movies on offer at the cinema and I use the term discussing loosely here. What I really mean is that they were riduculing each movie and trying to see who could come up with the more disparaging comment. Inwardly I was rolling my eyes, 'one of those' I thought. You know the ones I mean. It's the type who go watch "Who Framed Roger Rabbit" and then walk away saying 'oh I didn't like it, it was too much like a cartoon'. Those sort. The pretentious nitwits who have no idea what they like in a film but run it down anyway, because they are too cool for it. Right before I go off on a tangent, let me tell about the single comment that really caught my attention. They soon began talking about Indiana Jones, naturally, and the young man had only one thing to say about it: "Retarded!"
Obviously I was intrigued by this scathing retort, especially as I was stuck in a hellishly long line about to fork out my rapidly dwindling savings for a ticket to see this movie. I was convinced that this comment was just more of the same 'I'm too cool to breath' crap that they were spewing and soon had put it out of my mind. After all, it's Indiana Jones that I was about to go and watch. I hardly expected it to be a goldmine of information nor a fount of knowledge. I had no illusions. I was going to watch a movie that was purely entertaining; like a roller coaster ride at the fair.
I staggered out of the cinema two hours later and only one ran through my mind. You guessed it, "Retarded!" Even with my low standards, it was appalling. It was so retarded that as I write this, barely a day later, I can hardly remember much of the movie. What I do remember does it no credit. Harrison Ford can't possibly be that hard up for money that he would stoop to reprising a role that he's at least 25 years too old for. I don't care how he aged, he's no Sean Connery and he honestly couldn't carry off Indy. The whole appeal of Indiana Jones was somehow gone. His lines were unfunny, his movements were stilted and the plot - OH MY GOD! - the plot was mind-numbingly inane. I hardly think even a twelve year would have been all that impressed with this movie. I know the pre-teen boys in the row behind weren't. In fact they were insulted by the lack of intelligence in the movie. In times when most children are growing up on a diet of series like CSI and Numb3rs, it is highly insulting that the writers ask anyone to believe that gunpowder will float through the air being drawn magnetically to the carcass of a dead alien.
Indiana Jones should have been allowed a noble and dignified death, instead of being dredged up and lampooned like he was. On a side note, Shia LeBoeuf acquitted himself very well in the movie. The boy has oodles of talents and bushels of mass appeal and truth be told, I think his future in the industry is bright, provided he doesn't go the Lohan/Downey Jr. road.

So Indiana Jones was a bust, but there was still hope left in my Pandora's box of sorrows, or so I thought. Last night, two friends and I went to watch "Prince Caspian". Now unlike my naive friend, who re-read the book just last week to prepare herself for this 'event', I last read "Prince Caspian" about 5 years when this same friend presented me with the entire collection. Read them all in one sitting and haven't gone back to them since; in fact, I can't even find the book now. Anyway, that being the case, I watched "The Chronicles of Narnia" and I absolutely loved it. The children were a little stilted in their acting, but somehow, for that story and against that backdrop, it simply worked.
So it was with some pretty high expectations that we entered the darkened cinema. Unfortunately for me, disappointment had to decided to make a day of it. "Prince Caspian" while nowhere near the 'retarded' mess of Indiana Jones, it was still disappointing. I have learned my lesson after the fiasco that was "Lord of the Rings" and nowadays I try not to watch a movie based on a book if I have already read the book and if I do, no longer do I expect it at all to match the book in anyway. Many a well written book has been taken apart and disfigured by the demons 'artistic license' and 'mass appeal'. I digress; the point I was trying to make was that I had no such illusions about the fact that some changes would have to be made in order to fit it into a two and a half hour movie, but little did I expect this. It's like the screenwriters read the first page of the book and the last page and then decided to re-write the bits in between however they wanted.
Unlike Indiana Jones, this movie will appeal to the pre-teens and the spectacular shots, amazing creatures and the fantastic CGI will carry the movie. For those, who enjoyed the writings of CS Lewis however, it will prove riduculously trite. For adults who haven't read the book, enjoy the scenery and CGI because you're not going to experience a lot of first rate acting or even a decent plotline. All in all "Prince Caspian" turned out to be one of those movies which have to rely on the CGI to save it. I can understand that in a lot the original screenplay, but when you've already been handed the storyline by one of the greatest storytellers of his time, to massacre this movie, was a crime, I don't think I'll be able to forgive or forget for some time to come.
Just Me.

Simplicity

This is me simply typing because I like the sensation of typing. I write because I like the feel of the nib of the pen against the paper. I enjoy seeing the words form on a blank sheet of paper, literally or virtually. Does this make me odd? I would like to think not. However, it does not make me a writer either. It simply means I have an odd sort of fascination for the act of writing. Whether this fascination stems from the belief that I can write or from the fear that I cannot, I do not yet know. I hope to discover the answer to this question, perhaps soon.

Reality...

Reality TV. I can hear the groans already. The truth of it is though, that no matter how much a person may moan and groan about the declining standards of television programming, reality TV is the big winner. There is simply something addictive about watching an 'ordinary' person do extraordinary things, or survive outlandish situations. It doesn't matter that these people are handpicked to skew the show the way the producers want it to go.
Many a friend of mine will look down their noses at the thought of watching reality TV, then, turn around and religiously watch, Come Dine with Me or perhaps something like The Amazing Race. The bottom line is that watching contestants who are shorter, fatter and not so pretty looking, gives us the sense that it could be us out there. It gets the audience invested in the exploits of these contestants. It gets the audience invested in what happens to these contestants.
The biggest and most watched reality TV on any channel right now is the news. Yes, that's right. It's the local and international news. It's stories of how people thousands of miles away from us have to deal with maybe the same problems we deal with everyday. They have the same concerns about putting food on the table, of being able to set foot outside the house without the fear of ending up dead; they like us, want to be able to live a good and happy life. The specifics of what they each deal with may be different, a tornado in the US, a cyclone in Myanmar, and earthquake in China and maybe just poverty in Ethiopia, but the human drama driving it is the same the world over. Just like the most outrageous reality TV, the news is also streamlined and packaged and delivered for maximum impact. Little stories that fit a 'theme' are sensationalised. Big stories which are oddballs, are snowed under piles of gibberish.
Just like we can't look away from the News, we can't bring ourselves to look away from the contestants, the participants, the guinea pigs of reality TV. Ten years ago, the producers of reality TV would wait for something interesting to happen and compile it, then throw it into one show with maybe a little bit of reenactment and voila! The masses were satisfied. Programmes like Rescue 911! and You Asked For It were runaway hits. Of course in our fast paced, forward moving world, television has to keep up or be outstripped. So instead of waiting for reality television to happen, some smart-aleck televsion executive thought, why not make our own reality.
This is the reason for the popularity of these shows. It's not because American Idol is really about finding the next big pop sensation, although that may have been the original idea. Finding the next big thing is not the reason that American Idol has run for seven seasons. After seven years on the air, only Kelly Clarkson has achieved any kind of international stardom. Not many people outside the US have even heard of Ruben Studdard or Taylor Hicks or even Carrie Underwood. Yet many young hopefuls who have been voted off have gone on to bigger and better things. Daughtry and Jennifer Hudson are prime examples. Daughtry is now the most popular band in the US and they're immensely popular all over the world. One might even say that losing on American Idol is better for a musician's career than winning ever is.
This is because American Idol is not a talent competition. It is a case of FOX building it's own reality. They handpick contestants who will show well on camera, who are dramatic, who have hard luck stories, who are young. Go to the American Idol website and you will have die hard fans of second rate contestants duking it out over the fairness of the voting system. These fans tune every week and are bombarded with advertising and media messages and spend thousands voting for the favourites. It's become a reality of its own and the people behind it may even be having a little bit of a God complex right about now. The thing to remember is that human creation is imperfect, we sow the seeds of destruction is everything we build or create.
Let's see how long it will be before people realise that reality isn't to be found inside an electronic box, it's what you do with the time you've been given.
Just Me.

White Collar Blues

I know, I'm massively overdue for a post on the site soon...but the truth of the matter is, I just can't seem to work up the enthusiasm for it. My current jobless situation is beginning to grate on my nerves. I've been telling myself that I've held out for so long and I should hold out for a little longer to finally land the job I want. Still, that line of reasoning is beginning to wear a little thin and more and more I think that instead of looking for the 'right job' I should maybe settle for the 'right now job'. The idea of 'settling' for anything makes me sick to my stomach though. It's taken me a long time to get to where I am right now, and I don't want to settle for anything less than what I want.
Fingers crossed. The perfect job is around the corner. I have faith...for now.
Just Me.

The Laptop Saga

Let me tell you about my birthday gift. First off, I don't usually make a big deal about my birthday. I try to pay as little attention to it as I can. There have been years when I try to forget it altogether. This year, what with it being the big 3-0 and me not being where I want to be career wise, I was quite content to simply let this birthday pass on by unnoticed.
My mother has always given me a birthday present and for the last five or six years or so, it has always been jewellery. I was expecting something of the same this year.
Suddenly this year, she decides to give me a laptop. This is the story of that gift.
Now, let me lay the background for this tale. My laptop dies on the service desk sometime in November of last year. Luckily for me, my sister had left her laptop here in July when she went to study in India. So I used her laptop. She came back for her holiday in December and once again refused to take the laptop back. I must say that Shameni's - my sister - laptop, an Acer had a minor problem. The battery would not charge. It was not a problem for me of course as I used the laptop at the desk. Now in the intervening time between January and March, my mother made my sister a promise to get her a new laptop. After waiting an eternity, Shameni decided in March that she wanted a laptop. So I placed an order for a Dell laptop on the Dell website and told my mother about the awesome deal I'd secured which was to run out on the day before my birthday. So, at the last minute on the eve of my birthday, my mom says to me "Go ahead, place an order, for another laptop because that is your birthday present." I was overjoyed. Anyone who has known me in the last few years will know that I am inseparable from my laptop. It is my lifeline and my original idea was to get myself a new laptop once I started a new job. This offer from my mom couldn't have come at a better time. It was too good to be true. Too late I remembered the adage "if it's sounds too good to be true, it is." From this point onwards this essentially simple transaction became a series of almost comedic disasters.


DISASTER 1


Neither my mother nor I have a credit card. I was also unaware at the time of the other methods of payment which were available. So our solution to the problem was to use the credit card of a friend of ours. We pay her the money, she enjoys the bonus points, it was a win/win situation. So armed with Angela's credit card details which were read to me over the phone, I placed the order. However, she had transposed two of the numbers on the card. Dell called her and sorted it out so were at peace. Disaster 1 was averted.


DISASTER 2


When I placed the order for my sister's laptop I asked her to message me a colour preference. The Inspiron 1420 model I was purchasing comes in 8 colours. I never heard from her and I chose a colour that looked alright to me on the site; Flamingo Pink. When I told my sister, she had a minor hissy fit. My mother too chimes in at this point telling me I shoul have orderd the Midnight Blue. I thought the Blue looked drab. This disaster was avereted only because my mother decided to give me a laptop. So while the first laptop was pink, I placed an order for the second laptop which was to be blue. Disaster 2 averted.


DISASTER 3


Dell calls me to tell me that Angela's credit card has exceeded her limit. So I called Angela who was perplexed as the only purchase on the card was the initial laptop, so she calls her bank. The bank tells her that Dell swiped her card twice for the initial purchase. I was livid! I called Dell and yelled. They checked with their finance office and told me that they have only received one payment. So I called Angela and relayed the message and she called her bank. According to her bank, there had been two swiped of the card but only one had been confirmed, leaving the other transaction pending. Instead of doing the simple thing and simply cancelling the second transaction, Alliance, Angela's bank, gave her the approval code and told her to get Dell to cancel the transaction. (Yeah coz' that makes sense! Give the Vendor power over the purchasers credit card.) Anyway Dell calls me back up to say that they can't find the transaction. By this point I'm fed up with this whole three ringed circus. I tell Dell to call Angela and have them sort it out. What do they decide? They blame Citibank which is Dell's bank and the only unrepresented party in this mess. (This is the reason everyone needs a lawyer.) So what solution do they come up with? They cancel the second transaction. I suggested it FIVE phone calls ago...but hey what do I know, I'm only the actual customer! Of course by the time this is decided, it's 6p, pm Friday and Dell doesn't open past office hours or weekends. So Ihave a weekend to wait before I re-order. Disaster 3 averted.


DISASTER 4


Over the course of the weekend, I find out that my sister wants a larger screen on the laptop. The Inspiron 142o that I ordered has a mere 14.1 inch screen. Of course screen size was not even a consideration for me. However, my sister tells me, as she is going to use the laptop primarily as a glorified DVD player, she would have preferred a larger screen. I tell her its a done deal and its too late to change her mind. She quietens down. Disaster 4 averted.


DISASTER 5


My mother overhears the conversation. She asks me what the problem is with the Acer that I was currently using. There was actually nothing wrong with the Acer except that the battery wouldn't charde. It was in fact ideal for my sister as it had a 17.1 inch screen. My mother then comes up with the brilliant idea to have the Acer repaired for my sister and having only one new laptop. I didn't see a problem with that as it meant I wouldn't have to go through the whole drama of re-ordering the second laptop. All this was of course hingeing on my sister's agreement. I leave the business of telling my sister to my mother. She as the one who instigated the whole laptop buying spree and also the one to come up with the laptop repairing idea. This is the moment I was hit with an overwhelming sense of foreboding. Still at this point,I thought fifth disaster averted.


DISASTER 6


My sister arrived the same day as the laptop. My mother has not told my sister that this laptop is in actual fact mine. My sister is overjoyed at 'her' laptop. I am seething away as I wait for my mother to tell my sister. She never does anything. I ask my sister if she would take the Acer if I had it repaired for her; she says "Not now that I have the Dell!" Still my mother says nothing. I am absolutely livid! There isn't a second laptop coming and this laptop supposedly belongs to both of us because my mother is too spineless to stand up to her youngest. Frankly I'm not too upset with my sister either. I mean I am a little annoyed with her wanting the laptop to merely watch movies on but I still can't blame her. She's been quite content to either a) leave the Acer here; or b) have it repaired. I t was my mother that instigated the whole buying a new laptop thing. I was perfectly content to use the Acer and purchase a laptop when I got a job. Again it was my mother who instigated the whole new laptop thing. Finally I decide that I would just stick to my original plan and buy a laptop once I started working. I finally convey this to my mother at as normal a volume as I can manage. It took some doing not to do it with my hands wrapped firmly around her throat. To top it all off this catastrophe, she blithely infoms me that she wasn’t going to get into the middle of this and that I should simply sort it out with my sister. I wanted to scream. She started the whole mess. She stirred us both up with the whole laptop fiasco when the both of us were perfectly content with the way things were. Then, having stirred the pot, messed things up, she calmly steps aside and says ‘I had nothing to do with this.’ Bart Simpson has nothing on my mother. Luckily Shameni saw the wisdom of taking the Acer. Disaster 6 averted.

DISASTER 7

The Acer did not return from the shop in time for my sister’s return to India. So the pink laptop that was initially meant for my sister, ended up with my sister. I write this story with in book with a pen the old fashioned way as I await the return of the Acer. My birthday present turned out to be a massive case of ‘It’s the thought that counts.’ I had a brand new laptop for a full two weeks and really looking back at the chronicle of events surrounding its purchase, I am surprised, no shocked that I was even allowed to hold on to it for as long. There was a catch to this brand new laptop, however. I am an afficianado of Second Life as my previous entries may suggest and this spanking new laptop didn’t support SL. Apparently as spanking new as it was, I didn’t yet have a graphics card that supported the graphics of SL.

Throughout this episode in my life, I finally learned that if something is too good to be true, it usually bloody is, even if the deal comes from your mother.

This is where the story ended when I wrote it in my book. However, things have progressed from then. Since then, the Acer was returned but unrepaired as it turns out that whatever was wrong with it was beyond fixing. Then, despite the fact that when I sent it in for repairs it was working perfectly well, after I picked it up, the keyboard no longer functioned. So back I went to the shop and these guys swore up and down that they didn’t touch the keyboard side of things and that there was no reason why it should suddenly stop working. He tried replacing the keyboard and nada, not a single sign of life.
I was at my wits end, till my father says, that since I was promised a laptop for my birthday I will receive a laptop for my birthday and to go ahead and place the order. He then informs me that I shouldn’t have given the other laptop to Shameni because he never agreed to buy her a new laptop! I don’t know why this even came as a surprise to me...considering the way my mother plays fast and loose with the facts.
So I type this now on a brand new laptop that supports SecondLife and is Ruby Red in colour. This one I know I’ll hang on to for a long time, simply because of all the trials and tribulations that went into obtaining it.
Just Me.

Supernatural Season Three - Jus In Bello episode review

Damn this episode had so many issues. I don’t even know where to begin.
The FBI agent who has spent three years tracking alleged serial killers, who finds out that there are worst things out there in the dark.
The hunters who are faced with a moral crisis. The traitor who offers to sacrifice herself. The innocent who offers to die to save her friends. The final foolhardy plan that works for a little while only to ultimately cost more lives.

It was gratifying for me to see Agent Henriksen finally on the side of the Winchester boys. It was nice to rub his face in it a little bit. Demons do exist. They possess people and make them do bad things. Henriksen found out the hard way that the Winchesters are actually the good guys in all of this. I suppose it must have been difficult for him to find out that for years he’s been on the trail of the wrong people. If he’d had a moment to think about it, it probably would have upset him that he ultimately led the demons to this little town. Fortunately for him, he barely had that minute to himself.

I’ve got to hand it to the demons, they move really quickly. I mean seriously, it’s something the Armed Forces need to learn. Still, haste makes waste and the demons really have nothing to lose after all. It’s not their bodies they are bringing to bear, it’s not their lives that are in danger.

The boys were faced with some heavy questions in this episode and Sam who is pretty heavily tested, fails it – rather spectacularly in my opinion. I suppose it is the age old question, does the good of the many outweigh the good of the few? Should we end one life today if we could save a hundred lives tomorrow? It’s a heavy question and one which many have tried answering for ages.

In my opinion approaching things in this manner is really just wrong; if you’re talking about life and death. We’re not talking about taxes or levies or tolls or any other material detriment which this adage actually applies to. The question of life and death is not one which can be quantified. It is impossible. In the episode, Ruby says the death of the one person, the virgin, is preferable to the death of the thirty odd people that may possibly die otherwise. That sounds like a logical statement until you start dissecting it. Nancy is an innocent. She was quite willing to lay her life down for her friends which is an issue I will get to later but there is still no way of saying her life is worth less than the thirty. What if it had been thirty homeless people? Or thirty criminals? Would the answer change then? What if it was a question of one person dying so five could live? We could use the Winchesters, Dean’s life for Sam’s. What if five people had to die instead? Would that be too much of a price to pay? This is still just a question of numbers. We haven’t even started thinking about the emotion factor. I mean what if, the one sacrifice was the life of someone who would go on to cure cancer? What if five human sacrifices were needed to save this one person? What if that person were your brother, or your father or your lover? Would the odds change then?

Ultimately, I think that Dean’s solution was the best in the circumstances. It stood a small chance of winning but at least everyone of them would have gone out fighting. If there is a God in all of this, maybe, that will count for something with him. At the end of the day, unless you’re God and you have in front of you the big picture, you can only act in accordance to your internal compass. Sure Ruby’s plan made sense in a sickly logical way but they would have paid the ultimate price. The price was not the death of that girl, it would have been their humanity. If they had won the battle but lost their humanity, they would have ultimately lost the war. If this is to be a fight between good and evil, then evil must be held at bay. Cold logic cannot hold the reins, for logic can rationalize anything. The slaughter of 6 million Jews may seem heartless and inhumane, but surely somewhere, it was the logical thing to do. When you start looking at the bottom line, the moment you keep your eyes fixed on the horizon, you lose sight of those around you; you stop looking at the individual you’ve just trampled over to reach your goal. The end does not justify the means. It never has. If you have your eyes fixed on the horizon, you will never be able to see any alternative routes to your goal. Sometimes, it’s not about getting there the quickest, sometimes it’s just about getting there. I don’t blame Ruby, she barely remembers her humanity, Sam’s hesitation is unforgivable. Sam is not a soldier. He is not a leader. The more I watch Supernatural, the more I think that Sam is overrated. His intelligence, his drive, his skill, his strength, none of it qualifies him to lead an army, demon or otherwise. For all his experience and intelligence, he lacks wisdom. For all his self-righteous, holier than thou ways, he lacks a true moral compass.

My rather long winded ranting about the morality of the decisions made in this episode may lead people to think that I’m some kind of sentimentalist. That is not the case. I am quite prepared to allow harsh action on the mere suggestion of threat as was the case in Croatoan between Duane and Dean. I admit Dean could have waited a little longer but still had I been in Dean’s shoes, I would have shot Duane had I the chance, Sammy’s opinion be damned.

I am also quite prepared to allow people the opportunity and the right to sacrifice themselves. It is the best quality in us all. Ruby was willing to sacrifice herself for Sam and Dean, which as a measure of devotion says an awful lot about her. Nancy was willing to sacrifice herself for her friends. No one wants to die; it isn’t a question of having a death wish, it is instead the hope of a meaningful death. It is a deep seated biological drive to ensure the propagation of the species, it is the very quality that makes us human. Yeah I know, I’ve just agreed with both sides of the argument but that’s why I write this blog, in that hopes that my thoughts sound less insane if they are aired. A very slim hope if this entry is anything to go by.

On a lighter note, it’s a shame that Henriksen was killed, because the Winchesters having someone in the FBI would have been sweet. Plus, I think Henriksen was all set to give up his day job and become supernatural hunter extraordinaire. It is also a shame because I think him and Dean would have become good friends.

Ah well c’est la vie.

Just Me.

The Ultimate Escape

I have discovered the ultimate in escapism. Truth be told, it wasn't a recent discovery. I heard about it on CSI: NY one of the few series that I avidly follow. What is this new form of escapism you ask? Well it's called Second Life. It's a virtual world within the world wide web and it's absolutely free to become a member of. From the moment you sign up, it draws you in and before you know it, you're addicted and spending all your waking moments at your computer 'inworld'.

The moment you join Second Life, you get to choose an Avatar...or a template of one. Once you go 'inworld' your first stop is Help Island where you are shown how to work the controls on your avatar. Once you've mastered this, then the world is your oyster. There is nothing that is beyond the limits of your avatar. You are limited only by time, money and imagination. I've been a member now for a couple of weeks and my time has been taken up in altering the shape of the avatar template so that it now looks exactly like I want it to look.

Of course, this being me, the experience wouldn't be complete without some weird complication. It came in the form of my disappearing clothes. Oddly enough, this is a complication rarely faced by anyone in SecondLife and one the Support Techs were baffled by. I had gotten the avatar to look the way I wanted it to and my friend had guided me to a couple of places that were giving away free clothes (which is a common occurrence). I was all dressed to the nines and about to go exploring inworld when suddenly, I realised that the top of my dress had disappeared! Thankfully, I was alone when this happened. When you move your avatar, the view angle is from the back of the avatar and so all I saw was the back of my avatar and as she was wearing a backless dress I was nary the wiser until I accidentally used the camera controls and rotated the view! Imagine my shock when there I was topless with my intimate bits hanging out. It's rather an embarassing circumstance I can tell you. I mean having spent so much time and effort into getting my avatar to look exactly right, it was almost like it was happening to me.

I turned to my friend for help and she in turn, asked her friends for assistance. You know that scene from 'Friends'? The one where Ross has a growth of some kind on his butt and he goes to the doctor and the doctor holds a convention over Ross' ass? I have now experienced it in virtual reality. Ross, my man...I feel for you dude!

Anyway, after a lot of trial and error, it turns out that my laptop was the culprit of the whole fiasco and we've got it fixed to some extent...but I'm now insanely phobic about going out in public! I've been sorting out my inventory for the past week and that has been my excuse...but soon that chore will be done and I will have to venture out into virtual world. I mean it would be a crime if I kept this beauty from 'inworld'.

Funny how now I need to escape from my escapism. Ah life....

Just me.

The Power of Attraction

We have all heard about the power of positive thinking. It is one of the most talked about 'secret' to success. Yet, despite the hype and the talk, few people believe in it. Optimists are deemed dreamers. What is it about human nature that makes us believe the worst about any situation? Why is it that in any event, we gravitate towards the darker side of things? Are we at our very core, evil?
I believe that those who call themselves realists are in fact merely lazy. It is easier to believe the worst. It is because there a ready examples of the worst of things. No one talks about successes the same way they do failures. Misfortune draws a bigger audience than happiness. We've come to believe - especially in this century - that happiness and joy are weak emotions, one that only idealists with their head in the clouds strive for.
Especially in Asia too much emphasis has been placed on duty. The conventional wisdom is if you shoulder your duty and carry it out with honour, happiness should not matter. Happiness has become a pariah in the spectrum of emotions allowed of mankind.
This conventional wisdom must change. Happiness is the only point of life. We are put on this earth and given one life to live. If we do not achieve happiness in this lifetime, we have failed and merely existed. Existence without happiness is not an achievement, it is that which is accomplished by animals and plants. A lowly blade of grass achieves existence...it is happiness that sets us apart, it is happiness and conversely unhappiness that makes us human.
You receive what you ask for and you achieve what you expect to achieve. If that is the case, there is no harm in asking for peace, joy and contentment. It would be a crime to expect to achieve less than perfect happiness. That is the power of positive thinking. This is not the weaker emotion. To carry the positive thought and hold on to it in the face of all this resistance, that is true strength. If you can do that, it is quite possible to do anything.
Just Me.

It's the new year!

Well it's here. It's the new year. It's the time of year when most people either look back on the last year and make plans for the future. It's something about this time of year that makes people hopeful like nothing else can. Most people are optimistic at the start of a new year and make resolutions left and right. Parties are hatched to celebrate the end of a year, when in actual fact it is just another day.
Life goes on, nothing actually changes, but come December, inexplicably, there's this feeling that things are coming to an end and that in January, things are going to begin again anew. The truth is, it doesn't. The problems you had in December will still be there in January, the friends are the same, the family is the same, the work is the same...nothing changes, we just want it to.
The saddest thing about the new year, is the attitude of optimism that envelops you, the resolve and the sheer confidence that this year, things will be different, that you will be different. It's energizing and invigorating and it fades in a couple of weeks.
I know I know, that sounds negative and jaded, but it's true. The excitement that comes with the New Year fades over time. For some people, that buzz ends with a hangover from the New Year party, for others, its the slow grind of everyday life that takes its toll. Whatever the reason, it's over.
Am I immune to the excitement and hype of new year? No. Do I have a solution to this cycle of optimism and guilt? Maybe. See I refuse to fall into this trap of planning for the future and resolving to change myself and my environment. I don't know what tomorrow brings, no one does. Why the hell run around trying to plan for a future that may never come.
I am going to be as happy with myself as I can possibly be. The old saying comes to mind that possibly encapsulates my plan.
Take care of today and tomorrow will take care of itself.
I'm gonna try it.
Just me.

Happy Holidays

Yes, yes I know I said Iwould post every week and I actually haven't. I'll make up for my oversight but this brief post is simply to say Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. I haven't called or emailed or written anyone for these holidays but rest assured people, the cards are in the mail.

Just Me.

Hypocrisy

Hypocrisy. If there is one thing that I hate, it is hypocrisy. I have recently had to deal with more than my fair share of hypocrisy. There was a wedding in the family recently and somehow I find that it is ocassions such as these that bring out the worst in people.
The mother of the bride, has in my opinion reached such an pinacle of hypocrisy that, I wonder sometimes if she sees two images of herself reflected in the mirror. Not since Tommy Lee Jones portrayal of Batman's nemesis 'Two-Face' have I ever seen such mind boggling double-dealing. A minute with her and she would have you believing she is the reincarnation of Mother Theresa and the victim of malicious scheming the likes of which Joan of Arc had never faced.
The truth is, I've learnt to keep a civil tongue nowadays. Five years ago, most of her raving would have earned her a sharp tongued put down while some of her more venomous remark may even have earned a slap in the face. As it was I let her remarks slide and seethed over it instead. So here's my question. Does that make me a hypocrite?
Just Me.

Promise

Ok I have come to a conclusion. I have concluded that I am the world's worst blogger bar none. I started this blog as an outlet for my creative talent. Or as a constructive outlet for all the pent up anger/depression/joy inside me. Basically it was a place I could write down my thoughts, unedited, as it were and let it go. Looking back, I haven't done that. I've been too afraid to showcase any creative work for fear of harsh criticism and too secretive to share my thoughts on anything. I've been my own worst critic and harshest censor and in the end I've only myself to blame.
This ends today. I will post a new entry at least once a week. I am not going to second guess myself and I will not censor my thoughts or emotions or hamper my creativity. Besides, if getting my thoughts out here into cyberspace helps even one person or at the very least stops my head from exploding, it will have done some good.
Just me.

I was recently accused of being a non-romantic. Do I agree with that accusation? I suppose I must agree. I don't think of this as a drawback. I mean I appreciate a romantic gesture as much as the next person. I like gifts that indicate the giver has put great thought into it. I just think that nowadays people are completely confused as to what is indicative of romance.
Take for instance the classic story "The gift of the Magi." You know the one, where the guy sells his valuable watch to get a beautiful hair comb for his wife's lovely hair. Meanwhile, the wife sells her hair to get him a chain for the watch. Aww...what rubbish! I mean seriously, this is supposed to be romantic? How is this romantic? How is it romantic that he has a chain for a watch he no longer owns and she has a comb for hair she no longer has! It's a lose/lose situation. I mean if they'd talked to each other, they could have pooled their money and bought a decent bed or a proper meal or something. Practical...definitely, but you can't tell me that it isn't romantic. I mean something they've both worked for and something they can both enjoy together? That's got to be more romantic than the original version.
So yes I am not a bleeding heart romantic but I think that's a good thing. There are too many bloody bleeding heart sentimentalists out there who put value to the most ludicrous things. Valentine has been turned into a three ringed circus! Where is the love, today it's all about who got the biggest bouquet and the most expensive gift. I wish people would start using their heads just a little bit. I mean for crying out loud, the grey stuff between your ears? It's not just there as stuffing you know!
Just me.

I've been tagged

Ok, I haven't really been tagged but I thought this was as good a way as any of updating my blog. So here goes.

7 things I plan to do before I die.

1. Lose weight. Those of you who know me...well enough said.
2. Get a tattoo. This will only happen of course, if I have lost weight, and if my skin doesn't react violently to the ink which could bloody happen.
3. Write a novel. I really want to do this, but I haven't been struck by inspiration as yet. I have no topic to write on. I want to write something other than mindless romantic crap although (and I say this very sadly) I've been told that I do fluff and angst and porn extremely well.
4. Go on a cruise around the world. I've traveled quite a bit but this is one thing that I have yet to do.
5. Go on one of those flights that simulate zero gravity. I would love to actually go to space but let's be realistic here.
6. Visit a hydrosphere. What? If I go up I have to come down...all the way down don't ya think?
7. Be this really ultra famous barrister. Hopefully this will happen.

7 I could do.

1. Get through my fucking resits!
2. Achieve a good grade on my LLM.
3. Get a pupillage with a reputable firm for next year.
4. Get an internship with the ECJ or the ICJ.
5. Learn French.
6. Learn German.
7. Learn Spanish.

7 Celebrity Crushes

1. Gary Dourdan
2. George Eads
3. Vin Diesel
4. Will Smith
5. Hugh Jackman/Ryan Reynolds (Hey I've got a list of hundreds...you're lucky I narrowed it down to seven.)
6. Orlando Bloom
7. Angelina Jolie

7 Often Repeated Words

1. Fuck
2. Shit/Shite
3. Bloody
4. Bugger
5. Goddamned
6. Hell
7. Damn

Oh bloody hell I swear a lot! Oops I did it again! Let's just quit now while I'm ahead.

7 Physical Traits That I Look For In The Opposite Sex

1. Tall. (6 feet at least) What can I say I have a thing for tall men.
2. They've got to be built. I don't mean this in a six pack kind of way but they cannot be skinny. I mean I draw the line at any one who's wiry and lanky and skin and bones. I would prefer that my men do not look like they're refugees from Ethiopia.
3. Broad shouldered. The kind you can grab on to. The sort that make you feel like you can rest your burdens on them for a bit and they won't collapse.
4. Nice ass. Enough said.
5. Long legs. Goes hand in hand with the tall bit I suppose.
6. Big Hands. Not for those reasons you perverts! Get your minds out of the gutter. I just like the fact that if they have big hands, mine will look small in comparison.
7. Nice voice. Think Vin Diesel here, kinda smoky, kinda gravelly, all deep!

Having said all that. These are not the things I actually look for in a man. I mean come on. Physical traits? Guys with the physical traits you want are a dime a dozen. What I really look for in a man are the following:

1. Someone who I can talk to. He doesn't necessarily have to agree with my point of view but he would be willing to listen and at least have cogent and relevant arguments as to why he doesn't agree with me.
2. Someone who understands me. I don't want a mind reader but someone who will give me the benefit of the doubt when I do something that he doesn't actually like. I don't verbalise my needs very well so I need somebody who will be able to understand me and maybe provide me with some comfort.
3. Someone who is honest. This is non-negotiable.
4. Someone who is trustworthy. Something else that is non-negotiable.
5. Someone who is hardworking and intelligent. I do not tolerate fools. I don't want Einstein but I do insist that the person has general knowledge, is semi well read, has a viewpoint on something other than bloody football.
6. Someone who is strong. I have a very strong personality and I need someone who is strong enough to stand up to me without trying to control me. I don't want someone overbearing but I need someone who I don't have to worry about using as a doormat.
7. Someone who is dependable. I need someone who I can depend on. This has to be someone who I can share things with. I need someone whom I can trust to get things done. Someone who will share my burdens and not be overwhelmed. I'll give as good as I've got but the whole point of a life partner is someone who will go fifty-fifty on everything. The ups, the downs, the problems and the solutions.

7 People I Can Tag

Well any of the like 5 people who actually read this blog.

I hope you've enjoyed this read.
Just Me.

Why?

I wish that someone could live my life for me. People make things seem so easy. I don’t know. I just seem to screw things up all the time. And I don’t even know why I do the things I do sometimes. I mean my problems usually come down to one thing. I failed to act at a time when I should have. And why didn’t I act? Usually because I’m too lazy to do it. I am not a lazy person by nature. I mean I put in so much effort in so many areas, just ask anyone. I will give my life’s blood to help out a friend in need. I will go out of my way to do the research for a friend’s project. So why the hell can’t I sort out my own things?
Even in the midst of crushing defeat I am more concerned about the outcome of a friend’s exam or hardships. I don’t care what happens to me. No that’s not exactly true. I do care. I just hope that I will come through it without any substantial scarring. I know that it doesn’t happen. More often than not, my friend’s get through their troubles with next to no help from me and I’m still stuck with my disasters. So what do I do? Why do I do the things that I do?
I wish I could wipe out my whole life and start over. Still there’s a niggling doubt at the back of my head that says even if I did that I would end up in exactly the same position I am in now.
Somebody just shoot me and get it over with. I’m doing no one any good being here and I’m certainly not doing myself any good.

The Trojan War. It was meant to be the greatest war the world has ever known. Yet what was the point of it all? The folly of one man. The pride of another. The quest for glory, world domination, greed. Thousands of years ago, this war was fought. Men died, cities burned, history was made they say. Yet what have we gained from this great war? Nothing! There is nothing to be gained by war. Only death and destruction. There is no glory in death, there is only death! Death is the end of the journey. It is final as nothing else in this world.
What have men learned from the mistakes of the past? Nothing! It would seem that we are impervious to such lessons. Each generation goes on, vowing never to repeat the mistakes of the past, yet again and again we do. The Trojan War. The World Wars. The Vietnam War. The Sino-Japanese War. The war in Kashmir. The war in Israel. The Gulf War. The war against Terror. Men died in these wars, believing they were fighting to make the world a better place. The truth is, war breeds war. The victor on the field today will be the dead on the field tomorrow. Everyone dies. A soldier believes it is better to die in honour and glory than to die like a coward, old and toothless in bed. Yet it is death that is the ultimate victor. There is no sense in war. There is no sense in fighting. There is no sense in violence. There is only anger and hatred and pain. Ultimately there is death.
Can all the wrongs in the world be righted by the blood of innocents? Can it be put to right by the blood of the damned? Will the sins of this generation end if all the blood of the wrongdoers is spilt today? Or will we go on to make the same mistakes? Will we blindly follow the paths that seem so different to us, yet that lead us to the same end?
It seems that this is inevitable. Men are creatures of bloodshed and death. We are mortal, our lives brief. Yet we choose to throw it all away in the pursuit of glory, of honour, of happiness. We plant the seeds of our destructions in the fields of our success. Men are creatures who look at the future and therein lies our failure. Therein lies our weakness. Like the prophetess Cassandra who always predicted the future but was never believed, history cries out its warnings. Those warnings fall on deaf ears. Pleadings that drop like stones into the bottomless pools of ignorance.
We believe that we are invincible. We believe that we are smarter than our forefathers. We are not. We have technology that our ancestors did not, yet the same weakness runs in our veins. The same bloodlust. We have come a long way from the time of Achilles and Hector. Yet today a thousand Hectors and a thousand Achilles’ fight on and die on battlefields, uncounted, unsung, fallen heroes for whom there will be no tomorrow. For what did they give their lives? For whom did they shed their blood? Will it comfort their loved ones, now that they are dead and gone that they fought for honour? For glory? For what they believed was right.
Men say they fight because the other man does. The beginning has to come somewhere. Someone will have to stand up and say “I have seen the folly of our ways. It must end. Let it start with me.”
Just Me.