Symphony of Ash

pls go to

2008-09-17T14:10:00.000-07:00

http://vongcw.livejournal.com

What being alive means...

2008-02-02T21:05:00.000-08:00

I think that as a young man about to enter the working world, it is a natural time to start asking seriously what I want from life? Over the last few weeks, many things have been pushing me to review just what it means to have lived. Movies I've watched, conversations with various people (like Amabel today), the change of atmosphere and pace of dentistry, the peaceful environment of pre semester college and even the computer games I play have reminded me of many concepts I have forgotten and many new things I should consider.

The next few blog posts I guess should be about the things that I have thought over in the quiet beginnings of the year.

This post is a general feel of things whenever I approach this subject.

When we discuss life at this age, we inevitably and often inadvertently also speak about death. Age becomes a concern as youth finally leaves us completely. You start to count the years and how long you may be spending doing something. After all from 20 to 60 you only have 4 decades to achieve most of what you would like to accomplish. How long do you want to stay in a career? How long do you want to be in one place? What do you want to do now before age and death steal them away from you? Can you do so?

I have always been rather skeptical to the commercial goals of life - happiness, love, wealth - all promised to you in a McDonald's advertisement. I have always thought life is a lot more brutal than that. Most people are aware enough to tell you that there is a lot of sorrow and suffering in the world. Fewer people are aware of the constant struggle is what makes people feel alive. That doing things almost defines being alive. Previously, I believed that life was about striving and learning and maybe achieving something along the way.

It has been awhile since I have rescinded that concept somewhat. While ecstasy in a bottle from the television screen is certainly an extreme, focusing solely upon striving is also another extreme. Happiness, love and wealth are subjective issues, that some people do believe in and thus can achieve. I have come to realise (finally) that people are indeed different and being alive means something unique to each person. That does not mean that everyone can do as they please because it's their life; many people do not recognise their way of being alive or worse do not know how to be alive.

I think I have come to this understanding mostly from doing dentistry. I have always known dentistry is not my aspiration. But to actually go through it and experience the meaning of doing something you are not happy with for a long time impresses upon you deeply the meaning of monotony and drudgery. Then you wake up one day (after fighting with yourself all manner of phases, depression, reduced confidence, etc) and it dawns that you can't do this forever. As proud as you may be, some battles are lost. But always all that you really find yourself doing is surviving, one day after the other. It is a sad kind of existence and certainly not what you call being alive.

Anyway - movie reviews, philosophy and some interesting ideas coming up next! Stay tuned.

Back to fascination and wonder.

2008-01-10T04:50:00.000-08:00

Now most of you realize if you ever ever ever tried to keep up with my blogs I have a catastrophic habit. I change blog site every 6 months lol.

Once again - I was sorely tempted to do so. But they say insanity is trying something again and again believing it will work. Besides it's time to try something new. Ergo, I'm not changing blog address lol although I am going to change the tone of this blog.

There was a time that (and this was my very first blog mind you) the posts were about random thoughts and philosophies. I think I enjoyed that. And I also realized I had many phantom readers. In fact the blog was actually worth something (I checked with a blog evaluation website that showed the blog was actually worth several thousand dollars). Due to some emotional catastrophe - that brought about the bad habit of changing blogs regularly - that blog was destroyed and many old thoughts and ideas. Which is a great pity! Now that I look at it. A childish act of destruction from general frustration.

Inspired by my friend's (currently more open) blog. I decided that maybe I will once again try capture that essence. I know what mattered on that blog lol. I advertised and spoke on good and interesting topics. I provided diagrams :P which were a good plus. The reason the blog failed was my incessant need for perfection, myself being the victim of emotion and my rather... dire attitude towards everything. But now the enemy is known!

So to a new year cheers! And to more interesting topics - watch this space!

Going home

2007-12-14T06:51:00.000-08:00

The thought hasn't quite hit me yet that tomorrow night I will be on a different bed in a different weather.

I feel like I've become less of a person this year. But at least that in itself is a good realisation.

So I now have new year resolutions, which is a rarity.
I resolve to be more patient. (A quality I have lost more and more of)
I resolve to be kinder.
I resolve to be more caring.
I resolve to be stronger.
I resolve to be more confident.
I resolve to be more thankful.
I resolve to keep trying.

And I hope next year will be a better year!

Fuck Off

2007-11-13T02:41:00.000-08:00

This Library Night

2007-11-10T04:02:00.000-08:00

I swear the exam revision brings out the weirdest in people...
Or maybe I'm just really good at attracting weird people. Haha

Okay - so I'm sitting here at the head of the table at the library right. I'm just doing my thang - flipping open lecture notes, reading my wargaming book, reading sinfest the comic etc. By the power of Chaos Theory the library is crowded today with the strangest of people. I mean THE strangest people you could find here.

To my left is a boy who has headphones in his ears. While he reads his notes an alter ego speaks through his mouth. What it seems to be saying is like excerpts you could get by randomly flicking through radio channels. I'm pretty sure I heard lyrics from Trogdor the Burningnator and instructions out of a audio French lesson tape. It's not that he's asking for a conversation. He can't hear anything through the headphones...

Further beyond is a strange man in glasses. He does linear acrobatics on the couch with a sheaf of paper in his hands. Most of the time he's staring into space for minutes at a time stock still. Occasionally he starts singing to himself... while beating his palm against the leather in time. He too talks to himself occasionally.

On my right is a boy who has to tell us everything he is going to do. Until we ignored him for long enough for him to stop doing so - which was several hours later. I'm not sure whether he was seeking approval for his actions or as a kind gesture that we may align and adjust our minute by minute scheme with his. But truth is after while it was a kind of shut the fuck up.

In fact shut the fuck up would have been my response to all three at some point.

Oh dear now I have sworn twice and thus resort to slapping myself. They are staring at me for slapping myself without cause... I think I just joined the ranks of the insane and the lost.

But me? I'm just chilling. It's smooth riding from here baby. It's pretty cool realising that hey! I know shit. I can do this without too much hassle and tears. After the melodrama of the year, this feels like a picnic. I just almost won emo award here at college too. Yeah, I don't care thaaat much. But it feels a little unfair. Would they rather I bottled up everything inside so that their lives would be free of another eyesore? Lol - but then again with that one sentence I have just shown how deserving I am of the award runner up.

Still - can't wait for this exam period to be over. Got a lot of fun fun projects to start up once this thing is done.

But for the now - I'll just try avoiding eye contact with half the people in the room. *Places blinkers over eyes*

I feel the tension

2007-10-31T18:25:00.000-07:00

Listen to the lashing rain,
The storm against the window,
The flurrying leaves, greens and yellows and browns,
Brace yourself o man,
There is power in the darkness,
Fear of the unknown,
The yawning chasm hidden in the shadows,
Senses sharp as knives,
Gray the dawn of awakening,
Blank and boring the known,
Death the source of life,
Life the source of death,
Chaos and order mere reflections,
But the mirror all will fade.

Exams!

2007-10-20T18:47:00.000-07:00

EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS EXAMS

Passing

2007-10-05T16:51:00.001-07:00

It is a slightly surreal event when someone you have known takes their own life. Suicide seems relegated to television shows and the newspaper articles than something that actually happens in reality. Much like murder, kidnapping or robbery even.

This recent Wednesday, news of a friend's passing came to me. He wasn't ever really close to me but like everyone else who received the news there was that emotionless state of grasping the concept - inappropriately called shock. Everyone had different reactions after that to deal with the news. I went into action mode, preferring to call people and arrange some kind of ceremony to mark his passing. Others became curious to discover the details of his passing. Some just became quiet and reflective.

After the initial shock reactions the world seemed to change perspectives.

For me, I kept thinking - it finally got someone. I have many friends who are unfortunately sad people. I sometimes wonder about the eternity if you added up all the hours of loneliness and misery they all endured. But there are differing levels of depression. Many just remain melancholy. Some spend nights crying, unable to move or think. Some go as far as to inflict hurt upon themselves. But that's always as far as it has gone. It finally got someone - all the safety nets failed.

I remember the boy from some aspects. He was a deep philosopher, a devout atheist, that made for hours of debate amongst the two of us. Our best conversation revolved around an unknown dead chicken on some unknown desert island and the morality of having sex with it since the act would affect no one or be known by anyone. He held strongly to his own doctrine of politics and values and I believe in his own efforts tried to do what was right in the world. The rather complex thought processes and depth of person were often masked by a jokeful, mischievous nature of cynic and funny antics. For all that, he was a very very lonely man as became evident as each of us met and tried to identify who had actually been close to him. No one I spoke to seemed to be able to really say.

I keep wondering maybe what it was like in those last weeks and those last hours for him... how absolutely dreadful it might have been. I think all of us, know in some small measure what it might have been like. I wonder about how worried his mother was. I wonder how worried his friends were. I wonder what it was like for the first person to find him...

The week was a paradigm shift for me. A sobering experience someone said. It's true. Things in life that mean things and those that mean nothing came out in sharper contrast.

Old friends, some who haven't met in a year or more reached out, contacted each other and came together. It seemed wrong, yet, it was right. On Friday, we met after dinner for a moment of silence. We said no prayer because there was no god he would have ascribed to, at least as far as we knew. We recounted the highlights of our memory of him. They were few and ragged sort of memories. It made you realise how tattered and patched the past actually becomes.

Then we went to catch up, talk and remember. We should always remember.

Grey

2007-09-27T00:26:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, there was a little stony cliff that sat overlooking the sea. Upon it grew some green grey grass that rustled in the crisp cold breezes that swept across constantly. The white heads of the flowers would continuously bob in the wind, mimicking the white crests of waves that beat upon the rocks below. It was a quiet place, with only the sound of wind and sea and the occasional mourning cry of gulls.

The weather here was bleak for most of the year. Seldom were the days that the sun shone warmly to dry the salt crusted rocks upon the cliff. Perhaps when it did the little flowers would smile and tilt their heads back higher if the wind would let them. But it was more often that storms would rise from the seas to beat the cliff's surface with cold pelting rain and whip the waves below into a frenzy of heaving shadows that roared against the rock. The unrelenting rain would beat the flowers down and the salt spray would poison the earth they took root in.

Eventually, the grass began to die upon the cliff. Little by little it retreated from the edges of the cliff. The cold, harsh rain and sea salt were too much for the soft grass. As the roots lost hold of the soil the moist earth was washed away to reveal the barren rock beneath. And so the cliff's surface became bare and scarred by wind and rain and sea. Until at last, it was a but a dismal stone surface, an unmoving carving of the cruel elements of the earth.

And still, desperately upon its crown, a single white flower stayed watching over the sea. The thin broken grass was wilted and the its white head hung low. Across the vast sea it waited, yet neither beam of sun nor lessening of wind came but only impending dim cold and cruelty. Without hope it gave up its struggle and spent its dying breath; sighed and scattered its petals to the wind. The grass withered and was crusted by salt before at last the waves washed the handful of soil and blackened roots into the depthless sea.

So, the cliff now stands, folorn and forgotten, waiting. As eventually some day, the sea and wind will break it down too and all will be lost to the chaos of the churning deep blues and greens.

We dream of sunlit days and the kiss of gentle breezes.

Aftermath

2007-09-19T04:38:00.001-07:00

At the end of the day it all worked out by itself.
The people who were to receive retribution got what they deserved.
The students made their choice and will see whether or not it was the right one.
I did poorly in a test and now can go back to studying dentistry a bit better.
The desire to still reduce fees, better management and increase transparency is still on, just not quite as heady.
I learnt about myself a lot.
A girl got the opportunity to prove herself.
Men learnt that maybe underhand methods don't always work like you expect them to.
Others learnt straight paths don't always work either.
And importantly, at the end of the day, nothings really changed.

Reality

2007-09-09T10:31:00.000-07:00

This is my last avenue where I can rant in full. Don't anyone dare deprive me of it.

Over the last year, I have been moving and working to get the fees down. In the last two months, with the help of some dedicated and supportive people, we have come that much closer to change anything at college. To change the ideals, to change the concepts, the way things are run, the way people see and talk about things. We were that much closer to making things better.

Heck, we are in a lot of trouble. Our retention rate at college is falling. Every year 30% less return. There is no continuity of culture, there is no continuity of anything really. The exact same reason America lost the Vietnam war as they kept cycling their experienced generals out of the country. We're in trouble and it affects every single level of college life. The participation, the mixing of different cultures, the running of the place, everything.

I'm an old man here. I and a few others are senior enough to see what goes on. We've talked to enough people, seen the past. How things were done, what worked what didn't. We know where the problem in administration lies. We know where the problems in the student body lies. We're experienced to know how to get things done. Familiar with all the systems and individuals. We know.

And I've tried. I stretched myself with no gain to myself. I did all this campaign in spite of the fact I had a scholarship on the line. Now I have the scholarship the fees don't bother me. I did this with good intentions. I went about it as tactfully as I could. Make no enemies. And we were getting somewhere. We were actually getting somewhere. And I was thinking to myself - maybe, just fucking maybe, something in this world could be changed.

Somehow in the midst of all this I finally identified the best position to be in to better this was as president at college. It was the correct place. It was the right place to do something. So I ran for it. I struggled beyond self doubt and many things to do it.

And then, some fucker comes up and blacklists me in front of everyone. Tells everyone exactly why I wasn't suited for the job. I had no chance to defend myself. I had no chance to disprove anything. It came without warning and the stupid masses of sheep... bought it. After all my effort, after all my sacrifice, they still couldn't see beyond his claims. I didn't want glory. I didn't even want thanks. But I wanted people to realise what it was that was going on. For their sake. For the sake of the college. But no. No they bought the slander and that was that. I did not deserve it.

And then of course to add the cherry to the cake. All my work at the fees and management. The ex president has taken credit for it. All my initiative, the hours I put in, the planning, the skill, everything. He did not lift a finger and at points he was an impediment. I never asked for recognition I never asked for thanks. But I did not see someone just happily coming in to take all the credit for it.

I am angry. However well you know me, you will know that it takes a lot to get me angry. I'm atrociously angry. The want for vengeance seems to pump right through me like the hot blood. Publicly slandered, stolen credit, gloated over, victim to the masses of sheep. I am not weak. Just because you paint an incapable picture of me has lost me none of my potential. I didn't get this far in helping the college and reducing fees and improving management by being an idiot. And I'm sick of being Mr Nice Guy and I'm not a fucking doormat. Both characters, I've treated with respect and dignity and what did they accord me? I did everything I did with a clear a conscience as possible and I upheld my honour. To be taken down by pathetic slander? To be cheated of? I am fully capable of striking back. I can make them really regret what they did - I don't need to be friends with everyone anymore. And as for the masses. Maybe I'll keep up the good fight. Maybe I'll just watch them burn, laugh and most importantly make sure they know they're burning and it's their own fault. At the end of the day, completely and totally their own fault.

I'm trying my best to do something good. But it seems that the world doesn't care. Maybe I will make the world care even just a little. I am not to be stepped upon. I will not take your shit. I am something large enough for you to be afraid of. Just wait, just you wait...

Meaning of life...

2007-08-22T23:42:00.001-07:00

Recently I read an interesting article in the New Scientist about recent developments in physics. An interesting discovery of physicists today is more and more it appears as though the Universe was not just designed for life - but consciousness. Although that of course strays into the realm of metaphysics.

See - particles (such as light) can exist in two forms. A wave form or a particle. However these two different forms produce different reactions if say we pass them through a Young's double slit. A wave can pass through both simultaneously, whereas a particle can only pass through one. And this is where things get fishy. If you just study the pattern produced - it acts as a wave producing the banded pattern. If you placed photon detectors on the slits - it acts like a particle and no wave pattern is produced.

What does this mean? Well it means that our observation of the particle determines its form. Of course this is a very simplistic overview but the conclusion that could be drawn is almost that reality seems to also react to our perception.

More mathematics and models have been made to this date - and it seems more and more that the Universe was set to create life and consciousness . Just short of claiming that someone created everything, but it appears less like random chance and more like inevitable sequences. Of course, due to the fact that most scientists these days are Atheist since 'apparently' Science and God are now different things, everyone has been deign to say the word - Creator. However, the word "super-intelligence" has been bantered around by said scientists (being the sci-fi fans they are)

I think we are looking at the same thing. The universe is god is the universe is god. The physics and mathematics are beginning to point that way - although we are of course having to tread cautiously in this area. Allow me to now divulge what I call "The Santa Claus Theory"

Let us now consider the existence of Santa - scientifically. We must first then define Santa. Santa in modern day perception a fat man with a woolly white beard, he has a sleigh, a house and a factory in the north pole, likes wearing red, has a penchant for milk and cookies, gets down chimneys at night and delivers presents to all kids in the world on Christmas Eve (provided you still believe!)

However, we have found no evidence of Santa's dwelling in the North Pole - although our nuclear missiles by now can hit an ant. We also realise that not every kid in the world gets presents whether they believe or not. And no one has reported of a fat man breaking entry on Christmas Eve by way of the fireplace (I think).

One conclude scientifically - Santa does not exist.

Wait - readjust that. This concept of Santa is wrong.

Instead if I told you that once upon a time, in the cold forests of Norway and Russia, during the winter solstice, the darkest day of the year some people used to be in fear of something. And that a man appeared and removed this fear.

Or that once there was a Catholic Saint who did one thing or other to be commemorated on Christmas day and his name was Saint Nicholas.

These two new definitions of Santa are then not destroyed by the scientific discoveries. Indeed the original stories of Santa are close to the first one (the fear being related as demons or imps - now translated into the happy toy making elves - talk about irony). And St Nicholas did indeed exist.

Science did not destroy Santa. Merely refined our understanding of Santa.

Now let us take this concept and apply it to God.
Let us take for sake of argument that evolution is correct. And we scientifically proved beyond reasonable doubt that it was so. Then we would have proven that the idea God magically created all living things at once ought to be abandoned. But that does not disprove God. God could very well have used evolution.

We have to define what things we take as fact and what things we take as faith. So here we are - physics today is pointing more and more at some form of 'super intelligence'. Maybe it is God. If physics start to produce an actual volition to the universe - that might be interesting. But beyond that religions are still safe - physics have not yet crept into the realm of morality. Atheists though should really stop taking the science line. It's cheating :P

A Hope in Hell

2007-07-07T07:00:00.000-07:00

Let me share another interesting experience with all of you. The thrill of stalking. Not too many people know that I am a stalker or possess the capabilities to do so. Those whom I have told do not believe me fully.

Well there is a girl at college. Sexy young thing that she is. Not going to stay long however. I have due to my obsessions located her room. Now, after telling many people about my object of desire and moaning about the cruelty of life - I decided I would do something I haven't done since i was 17. I was going to go to her room!

Not of course that I was actually going to do anything when I got there. The imaginative mind can play many scenarios that would have liked to have been played out. But at the end of the day - I'm a realist. I don't have a hope in hell. But maybe I will approach that subject in my next post. Right now we are talking about a stalk out!

So dress sense. I had to look normal. The ultimate skill of stalking is not to be seen by anyone. However, that sometimes cannot be avoided. Therefore - don't dress in black or something dumb like that - it only serves to increase the suspicion. But anyway, on this night - I had no reason to be in the building, I did not want to be caught by anyone. Chose my white coat and my college scarf - not very dark nor dodgy and of I was.

Let me explain the building I was dodging around in. For one it is round. The rooms are built all around the central passages of each floor, that in turn encircle two staircases and a lift in the centre of the building. It is hell of a confusing place to wander in if you don't know it. Now I knew where her room was from the outside, but to tell it from the inside passages with no view of the outside world, was the challenge. However, I have knowledge of the place. I knew the location of one of the rooms in the building on another floor right above her room. Since the floors are replicas of each other, if I could locate that room within then by simply translating that one floor down I would have her room! Easy.

Okay - so I go down into the basement entrance. Don't worry everyone goes by the basement entrance to the lift. Just before I open the door towards the lift - I hear the lift door opening one passage beyond. Dodge into the staircase beside. Just manage to get out of view as the passage door opens and someone walks out. Walk up one floor via the staircase. Dodge out on ground as someone comes down the staircase. Navigate to the alternate staircase. Walk up that stairs, come out one floor above girl's floor. Walk out into circular corridor (now these corridors have two doors that split the floor in half) hear someone open the other half of corridor, headed towards me. Move in opposite direction, hear door opening - person must be in my half now - staircase too risky, dodge into other half - hear person opening door to staircase. Locate room I know. Take note of location. Head down staircase without incident. Notice papers stuck to doors announcing not to be cleaned... Occupied rooms! Head downstairs without any ado. Locate room! With piece of paper stuck to it. Success! Hear door opening from staircase. Use curved corridor to my advantage and disappear round corner. Stop. Think... There were only two doors with paper on them. The person was fast and definitely went into one of those rooms... She just went into her room! Laugh to myself. Head down by lift. Just as I'm about to exit hear footsteps down staircase (the first one I went hiding up on) - wait. Of course it's her. She just went up to get something. And lo and behold I'm right. Say hi. She's off to go drinking with her american friends and footie kids. Mission success.

Of course at the end of the day I lose. But hey, man I'm good at hide and seek. It was good fun playing these games with people who didn't know they were playing. And there was adrenaline and a pretty girl in the game too.

I just wish I was good at a heap of other things. And the universe is indeed a cruel cruel cruel place.

Fear

2007-06-29T18:51:00.000-07:00

There are things all of us fear. Like death.

In the Tarot, the Death card has an interesting meaning. It means change from one state to another. An ending and a beginning. A rider on a pale horse bearing a scythe over a field of dead and decaying bodies. Change is to be feared. For few can truly embrace the pale rider.

So, while I am in the frame of mind, because I would word this differently were I to be in any other mood, I will tell you of a fear that has come to me. I do not know if it is the cause or a result of my sorrows - if I may use the word. But when it comes in its full potent force, it is terrifying.

I like to think it elucidated in some part, that in the midst of a particular bad emotional status, I wanted to get away from the cold soulless environment that had become my apartment (and everywhere else for that matter). Caused by a mixture of desire to get away from it all and a cry for attention. I decided to climb a tree at college. It was a rough old tree that I had climbed before. It has always struck me as fascinating how things seemed so much taller once you were on them. So, I climbed to the first large division of its trunk. There was this slight moment when my balanced was compromised and my centre of gravity threatened to tip me over onto the floor. This was only two metres above the ground.

That moment though lasted for a long time for me. A brief experience of vertigo I assume. Weightlessness, loss of balance and a swimming vision. It was in that split second I knew I didn't want to die.

Sitting on that branch, with nothing but wind and rustling leaves for company however, I knew blandness of life was not enough either. So I looked upward. And steeled myself to climb even higher. I was now two stories above the ground. My blood was pumping and my senses were more alive than I have known them to be for a long long time. But I slipped and died yet and I was not happy still. Fey and reckless in mood, I climbed another tier of the tree, where now finally the branches were slimmer than my own body and creaked and waved in the air as I gripped them. Only three stories of the ground. But it felt like more and I knew now for certain that if I fell, death was not an exagerated fear, it was a likely outcome. Or maybe worse than death? Paralysis? I was trembling but I no longer felt the cold. I felt motion though, the swaying branches were like standing on a boat on a rough sea.

It was a coudy, gray day, that in my youth, trying to exude a dark and mysterious character I would have said I loved. But that was a much younger version of me, someone trying to be as menacing as possible in order to protect a physique that seemed small and weak. I still enjoy the ominous presence of such weather or the stillness if can bring to the earth. But now I desired warmth. I wanted sunshine and laughter, life and company, a beach, sand, sea and a plethora of nubile young females in bikinis, friendly and easy to approach. Hah, my personal paradise. I didn't think all that as I stood upon the dark, rough, swaying branches. All I could think of was misery and there had to be some sort of escape.

And then I realised as I looked downwards at the three tiers of the tree I had climbed. If I clambered away from the trunk. About only a metre away from the trunk, I could swing myself down from one extending branch of each tier to the ground. The only thing was, one metre away from the trunk, I did not know if the first branch would hold me. It was only slightly thicker than my thin arms, projected horizontally and seemed to be bending upon its own substantial weight as it could have been five to six metres long. It seemed sturdy enough. But there was no real way to tell - except to swing from it. Maybe I would die.

I stood there clutching to the trunk of the tree. I don't really remember thinking anything except that yes it could be done. I remember that if I didn't want to die, all I had to do was to grasp on to the rough painful branches and be careful. And simply, I shinied out onto the slim branch, turned upside down and released my legs. Dropped to the second tier, climbed out a bit further and dropped to the first tier. Swung from that for a few seconds till I stabilised and fell to the ground.

I was alive. Painfully. Almost regretfully I was alive. And I laughed like a maniac, no longer caring about attention I may have gotten from some passerby. I had done the crazy and felt the adrenaline pumping in every single fibre of my body. I had dared death more than I ever have in my life. I was alive and I was trapped. There was no escape from this skinny, weak body. There was no escape from the gloom in my life. The sands of time were running and I was here and there was nothing I could do about it.

This is my fear. This is what I mourn.

Those older than I tell me I'm young. Those younger than I tell me I'm old. I feel as though I have tried to stretch youth and adolescence as far as I possibly could. Why? Because I feel as though I have not lived it. There are silly things that I shall admit to now before this mood passes and I dare not acknowledge them even to myself. Most of these things concern females - the core of adolescent life. I have never made out with a girl. I have kissed girls - thank God. But I've never had one I was just alone with for more than five minutes, kissing her and holding her. I've never randomly made out with a girl at a club or picked one up. I've never been at peace where I am. I've never had a sense of belonging anywhere.

Now not everyone has done all these things either and they tell me they don't want to. Some people have done all of the above and tell me it is worthless. Others tell me that in time I will experience all those things too.

But this is the difference. As silly as all those things may be. I want them. Whether they are worthless, silly, stupid or not. The difference here is that I desire, so much more strongly than they do and that desire is chewing me from within. But more than that - I'm running out of time. The veil of adolescence is but gossamer to me now. In a year and a half, I will not be Vong, I will be Dr Vong BDSc Melb. The adrenaline, the mystery and the awakening of youth will finally wilt if it is not dead and gone already. I will never have experienced the things that I wanted and I will never experience them the way I want to. Because my world has changed and I did not complete my works in the last world. I rue the words of advise and caution. I rue all the chains all the bonds that were laid on me that quietly I blame for my incapability. I hated this body I was in. Skinny, weak. I hated my face and my untameable hair. I hated the labels I have always acquired all my life. Nerd. Computer geek. I hated my conservativeness. I hated the binds of a religion I had so long and so hard tried to be a part of. A God I tried to appease but never finding a place to rest. And in rage I had torn most of these things away over the period of a year. Some of them I could not. Whatever I did, I would be skinny and have small shoulders. My eyes would remain slanty, my hair messy and my smile muscles a strain to pull. My attitude was dour, my humour cynical and my thoughts morbid. I could not sit with any group still. And I was still a geek. Caged more by these thoughts then more than anything else, I felt as though I began to fade.

I was fading. In this mood I feel as though there are few things that validate my existence. In a group I had little to say. I spend a lot of time, maybe too much time wandering alone, contemplating nothing. Reflecting on my thoughts in these times, it feels like static, or a radio randomly flipping from channel to channel. Nothing of value, nothing coherent. And I know I'm beginning to lose things. I know I'm drifting further and further away from friends and warmth and sunshine.

And it is in this coccoon of depression, I fear death. What is death? Death is meaning. It is the root of meaning. A story has a beginning and it must have an end. A story that has no end unravels itself, twists and drives itself into insanity just like some Marvel superheroes that have just been on the shelves too long. You start the day in the morning with the sunrise and the day ends as it began - in dark sleep. If you do not sleep you will be driven mad. A story with no end. I fear that my story is being written as one of regrets of things not done. Of battles fought only to discover that this isn't a romanticised piece. I am scared that it is not a story of victory. More than that, it is not the story of bravery and a man who stood against the impossible. Those are stories of heroes. A hero is a seven foot tall character, with rippling abs, deep penetrating eyes, a sombre thoughtful voice, witty, intelligent and courageous. A hero is not a small, skinny nerd, a loser of social status, annoying and self caught up, trapped by delusion, dark and hateful, small and mean. It is not someone who moves in the background and will be forgotten. But this is the realm of adolesence. And my book is closing. It is not even a tragedy. It is a paperback sitting in the recycle trash area waiting.

Because soon I will be an adult. My youth will have died. I mourn it deeply. That is all. You cannot unwrite books and you cannot make them last any longer than the last page. I am undergoing the stages of death - shock, denial, anger, depression and acceptance. But I am loathe to accept it. I do not want to be sad. I do not want to close the book cover and say that is how it ends.

But time waits for no man, and the last grains of sand slip through my fingers already. I fear Death.

Desire

2007-06-16T04:11:00.000-07:00

Desire.
Desire is the root of all evil.
It's not money. Or women. Or amoralism. Or Godlessness. Of Godliness.
It's desire.
That wanting.

It's like Buddha said - To end suffering you must end desire.
And in the bible - there are three things that are never full, four that never say enough
the grave, the barren womb,
land, which is never satisfied with water,
and fire, which never says, 'Enough!'

Never enough. Death. Misery. Drought. Desire.

I desire much. I desire like any man. Evil and good.
Desire the root of my suffering.
Desire - cruel, wanton creature.
Chop it off! Chop it off at the balls!

They say it's like fire...
But they're wro-ong.
It's like fire because of the heat blood brings to the surface.
The heat of flushed cheeks and the sound of thumping in your ears.
It's not like fire.
It's like blood.
That consuming feeling that tightens the muscles, dulls one sense and sharpens another,
That's the adrenaline.
Desire is like blood.

Not the dead blood pooling.
Living blood. Beating through the heart and arteries.
Maybe it is like fire.
Blood bringing oxgen, fuel and heat.

Cruel. Wanton thing.

Because I can...

2007-06-12T05:29:00.000-07:00

Listen my friends. Listen in the silence of an empty room.
One where others seldom come and privacy here is as though a dark bond to a hidden self.
Listen carefully... You can't enter.
You would break that bond then. No. That's a lie. You cannot break the dark bond. You can't find it. I wouldn't let you.
Listen. Shush...
There is a whirring fan. Its low hum monotonous. Harsh quick waves of buzzing. Like bees... no, wait, too bright. Hornets? Wasps? No, no. Too alive. Think plastic. Think metal. Cold, lifeless, soulless. What does that actually matter to you?
Listen... but you have to strain your ears to hear it.
I doubt you can.
No one does.
I wouldn't let you.
But it's there.
It's an empty room. Soulless. Plastic. Metal.
That hums. A dull hum. A dead hum.

Life... is something that moves. That interacts.
Life is something beautiful, fragile.
Life is.

This place is empty. Yawning. Gaping. Vacuum.
Thirsty. But you can't drink tears.
Wait... you can't here any crying.
There's nothing to drink anyway.

There's a coke can though...
Smell it - sickening. Metallic.
Metal. Plastic.
Lifeless.
Maybe you can hear it?
Clang - it might go. Against a wall? No. Wait. Too alive.
On the carpet? Yeah.
Thud...? No. Too heavy too alive.
Think of it carefully. The gentle brush of polyester hair on tin.
That's right. Plastic. Metal.
Lifeless. Soulless.

But then a scratch.
Something moves...
Another...
another...
another...
another...
another...

I'm alive in here.
Welcome, to my dead room.

Epiphany

2007-06-10T13:44:00.001-07:00

I haven't typed silly things for a long time. So why not?

Well, to be honest, yesterday I broke down. Told you something had to give. Fortunately, I have a friend who would sit down by me and listen to everything that I had to say. My own personal psychiatrist as such.

There are so many many things that I hate about myself. And it was not until last night I realised the core of the problem - I hate myself.

It was one of those moments of dawning realisation. The keystone of the arch of all my woes. If I can break it the doorway will crumble. So inside the work began the moment I realised this. I have got to stop hating myself. I need to start accepting the fact that I have got good things and that I deserve some measure of good things too.

It sounds simple as always. Which is why I like it. But I'm a realist. I'm not out of the woods yet. But it's dawn and I think I just found a path.

It's all going a little down hill...

2007-06-09T08:34:00.000-07:00

I guess no one reads this blog anymore. So.. I guess I'm free to type what I please and expect little repurcussion.

Oh I know who may eventually open up this link to take a look. But the way I see it, I don't think I really mind. I've always tried to lead my life like an open book anyway. Open as much as possible only so that people other than myself are not talked about.

Then again... why don't I?

So I'm stuck here in this little college and everyone is telling me to get out. The place is killing me. The place is a bad influence. I've been here too long, etc etc etc etc. Maybe they're right and I have been here too long and I am slowly dying inside.

But - what I think is that if I weren't here, I'd be dying anyway.

I don't like many things about my life. I know I don't lead a particularly bad life. How could I say that knowing that there is so much worse out there? So when I feel bad about it I feel bad about feeling bad about it. And round and round in a downward spiral. It seems that everyone has grown up and little Vong is still taking his time to finally mature. Maybe - I have always been scared of being immature.

I have learnt some scary things this year about what others think of me. I have learnt of people who do not like me. I have learnt about things people have said about me behind my back. I don't know what brings this about. I know these people and I know others have done worse to them than I have. A lot worse. I for my part have always tried to be honorable. I fail here and there. But I challenge anyone to say they don't. Still... they say things about me. And it saddens me.

I have lost myself as well. I no longer know who or what I am. I have no real mission. No goals no visions. I'm biding my time and being bitter about it. We don't have a lot of time all of us. For some reason I am beginning to get a sense of my mortality. There are many times I feel age, youth and time running through my fingers like sand. Flowing in great unstoppable quantities. I know I'm out of time to experience certain things. And I regret it. I regret a lot. Some people say you should have no regrets. But I think they were lying to themselves. We do that a lot don't we.

I don't know my God anymore. I can't hear him speak and I'm not trying. I know he is real. I mean, I've encountered a demon before. A nasty experience. I still get the creeps just thinking about it. So I should know shouldn't I? I don't. Apparently, seeing isn't believing. But I don't see things anymore. I don't hear any more connections from God or from anything else. It's gone. Not because it isn't there. It's because I can't be bothered looking for it anymore. And because of that, it doens't concern itself with me anymore. Am I crazy? If I was... not anymore.

I still don't have a girlfriend. It's been years. I've been rejected a lot of times. I can see myself turnig more and more desperate. I know I am. It's sad and scary. No one really cares about that though. Everyone tells me it's fine and that eventually I'll get one forever and ever. Or they tell me I should stay single because relationships are evil. I don't care anymore about what they say... I'm just silly to them. Immature. Silly. It gets to me though. And no one I talk to really understands. And those that might understand, we pretend ot each other we don't. We're silly that way.

I don't know. It's all going down hill. Slowly. Reality is beginning to come away at its edges for me. I'm losing grip of everything. It's like the colours of the world are beginning to sap away. Leaving a blank grey. There is no real rest to be found. There is escapism. By day dreaming and talking crap with people and laughing so hard because there is no other way to respond to things. A hollow laughter. The kind if you know how to listen for it makes you want to cry. There is no rest. Not in sleep. Not in friends. Not anywhere. There is only running away and the dead knowledge that you know you cannot run forever.

I can't cry either. I haven't cried for 7 years now. I've wanted to. That feeling of your chest being tightened as though some screw was being cruelly turned. You'll be surprised how much it will turn without getting a tear in your eye. But then - crying is just like being upset you don't have a girlfriend - silly. Immature.

I wish I could cry. They say it's like rain. Once it's over the pressure from the world has lifted.

But I can't.

Something has to give.

At some point.

I think it'll be me.

I don't know. I can't trust myself anymore. There is nothing solid anymore. They all left in a swirling madness of colour. And now those shifting colours are turning to grey. nights are the hardest...

Night is the time when the walls start to close in.

It's not darkness that scares me.

It's emptiness. Vacuousness. And loneliness.

Pan's Labyrinth

2007-04-13T00:23:00.000-07:00

I recently watched the movie Pan's Labyrinth. I've always enjoyed the genre of horror fantasy of course and the visuals of the movie were very pleasing.

One of the aspects that really perturbed me about the movie (sorry for all those who have not already watched) is how every thing that was fantastic in the show could have happened in the little girl's head. It reminded me of how things really are about how much you want to believe in them.

Even with coincidences such as the blood in the book and her mother's bleeding, the burning mandrake and the traumatic birth and her escaping the commander by the labyrinth opening up walls to aid her... it could all have happened in her head. And if it were all true? Then no one would ever have known the fantastical world that brushed on the borders of their world, just out of sight and obscured by the worries and struggles of life. It would be silly to take the young, naive and imaginative child seriously about faeries and fauns playing games in the woods.

But that is how we treat just about everyone. With contempt, disdain and suspicion. We don't want to be silly children anymore. No more magic, dragons, witches or fae. No more secret doors and old powers waiting in the heart of dark woods. No more monsters roaming the vast darkness of the oceans.

Truly, if anyone wishes to enter heaven they must be as children.
For if you weren't, how could you possibly believe such an impossible thing?

Futitlity - The Human Engine

2007-03-29T07:21:00.000-07:00

That's what it means to fight against patterns you will never affect. Things you can't change no matter how much you tried.

Frustrated in life is how I feel most of the time. I live in a world where few things I choose seem to be my own choices. I live in a world where as far as I see few people choose the things in their lives. We live in a world where the most important choices are made by people who don't care and who cannot be stopped.

Futility.

Futility is trying to stop the rainforests from being cut down. Imagine the last rainforests of this earth. Let us not pretend. Few people who have stepped into a rainforest would actually tell you how beautiful it is. Simply because it's not. It's hot and muggy, the ground is covered with dirty mud, leeches and a thousand creepy crawlies. It is a harsh unforgiving faded green and if you got lost in it you would die pretty soon. But it's precious because there is little of it left. Imagine the countries the jungles grow in. South America, Central Africa and South East Asia are poor countries. Around the edges of the jungle live thousands upon thousands of people. They are uneducated, bitter and brutal in their will to survive. They don't know what the ozone layer is, they don't know about extinction rates, they don't know how precious their jungles are. They only know that they have a mouth to feed. And so they slash and hack and burn down the trees. The people who pay them rule these countries. They are educated. They do know what the ozone layer is, extinction rates and how precious their jungles are. But they live their lives scared that every morning when they wake up, they will awake powerless, penniless and without meaning. They have learnt through harsh systems, the iron law of strike first or be struck. If burning down the jungles lets them live, so be it.

And then all of the Western world shakes their heads and cry murder. But the US is still the largest producer of green house gases. Save the animals! Save the trees! Woe the change of weather! What are you going to do? Feed the millions of people dependent upon cutting down the jungles? House them, clothe them and give their children an education? How will you stop the thousands of blood sucking business and men and politicians? Will you announce war upon those countries and hold coups? Can you extract such an integral part of the economy without upsetting everything?

Deforestation is part of the Human Engine. If you take out a cog, the machine will break. Save the trees and animals yes good good. Are you going to save the families and lives dependent on the deforestation? Are you going to stabilise the economies of the countries the jungles live in?

That was an example of what the Human Engine is like. It plays again and again and again. Politics and corruption, crime, piracy, drugs, weapons, oil, cigarettes and alcohol. You can stop none of these things in truth without upsetting entire socio-economies. They are so ingrained within our systems that massive parts of the world are built upon these systems. It's like a tumour that keeps the body alive.

And even if you wanted to stop it, you'd find yourself playing a shadow game of ghosts and feints. Who would you be fighting? What would you be fighting? Companies? There are thousands of them. Destroy one and another will take its place. Governments? Which one? How would you stop the millions of games they play?

How can we hope to fight half the world and maybe more?
How can we hope that the world will change for the better when everyone only wishes for it to stay the same because they live of it?

We can only hope... that the world will find a way or rightening itself.

The Problem of Evil

2007-03-18T03:50:00.000-07:00

This is a real interesting topic to start off with. It is probably, the most heated theological debate and cycles and works upon several other debated topics and opinions. So maybe not the most basic place to start, but maybe the best.

Ok. What is the problem with God? Evil exists. Oh dear...

Let me rant first. Some atheist once said he saw a poster of children dying in Somalia from drought and famine and his heart broke and he said, THERE IS NO GOD! Great job. Good advertistment from the donation efforts of the world. Right, anyway, so where did this great invocation come from? And - what did he do about it?

Where did all this emotion come from? Was he ever in Africa? Did any of his family members die tragically? Was he just a very sensitive man? No, no, no, maybe. Maybe he was a sensitive man. And knowledge of people suffering really tore his heart. Maybe we can answer that with the next question.

What did he do about it? Became atheist. Wrote a lot of books against God. Lectured here and there and had some famous debates... hmmm... well I'm sure all that helped alleviate the situation in Africa.

For all the moral relativists out there, if a Christian/Muslim/Buddhist/another Atheist, had looked at the picture and said for my God/karma/goodness/fellowship of man I will aid these poor suffering people, would they not have done much better? Would it not have spoken volumes more about what they believed in and why...

Unfortunately, most people writing these books and dialogue are of the former kind. What I like to term the "Emotion from Nowhere" kind.

I am not the charity kind of person. To be perfectly frank, I don't entirely believe in charity. I give freely when asked (sometimes as many of my friends will tell you too freely and needlessly). But I don't actually believe charities tackle the root of the problem. For each individual charity helps I acknowledge that is a good deed. But the problem remains. Charities do not end droughts, charities do not create jobs and charities do not get rid of human meanness.

However, I am not an emotion from nowhere person. I just get angry at people who are. As was expressed many times through the book.

Child in africa rolls in its sleep into a fire. God's fault, he didn't make us fireproof.

The defence? Oh he had a purpose! God surely had a purpose?

What?

erm... we don't know...maybe...err... yeah....................BUT he had a purpose! -_-

someone please shoot me in the head...

And ever notice it's always these sensational kind of topics they love? Drought! Famine! War! Some famous celeb! But simple things right in front of our eyes - one out of six people are major depressive, think about that. Among all your friends, if you had thirty - 5 are majorly depressed. The divorce rate in America is approaching one out of two - that is an insanely exotic number! The amount of distress that is caused - baffling. There are homeless people right round the corner. People are overworked, stressed, few people get to do what they want with their lives (unless you come from a happy Western country and your uni, medical bills etc are all payed for and even then you may not be that lucky) Blah blah blah blah... the Philosopher's never talk about that!

So, this is my take on the matter. The fundamental problem with this discussion should be very obviously glaring - No one knows what God is like!

People against make the mistake thinking that their morals and standards are the right ones. I will discuss in a moment how a baby rolling into a fire could be anything other than evil. But yes, because we say it should not be so, God is wrong. Please remove him from existence.

People for make the mistake of not considering what God is like. My God is all benevolent and all loving and all knowing and all powerful and rolls babies into fires.

Guys, guys! Time out! What may God actually think?
For one life isn't meant to be played out like a Mc Donald's Happy Meal ad.
Life isn't really meant to be lived merely for the Mc Donald's feeling either.
Which is what most of these philosophers like to argue for. My life ain't perfect. Let's sue God (a very widespread concept now due to America's litigatious society)
Life gets really really miserable if all you want is that Mc Donald's feeling - I'm glad that many portions of society are actually shaking awake from that.

So, wait. God isn't very big on the continuous enjoyment thing then? What is he big on? ... Well what does Buddha say being one of the contenders for Top Dog. Life is Suffering the first tenet of Buddhism. Look around you. He was right. God is big on suffering??? Not quite that either.

God is big on... Living! God measures effort and work and achievement. God measures acts of love and acts with meaning. So - a baby rolls into a fire. Who is to blame? God (if there was anyone to blame and assuming he exists) What would we like to happen and why won't it happen and what God hopes will happen.

(a) Pain. The baby screams in pain. Anyone normal would cringe and the sound of that. Would you rather God took away the pain sensation and never called for help? Let the baby lie there till its charred black to be found later? Maybe you say, considering the life the child is in for.

(b) Life of the child. This is the debating point. The child is not going to lead a terrific life. Unable to go out and socialise, unable to perform many many functions, probably shunned by the society as some demonised horror and etc. What kind of God allows that?
I argue that most of the suffering is human induced. A family can learn to live with her support her. Many families do. Children who are autistic, bedridden members, etc a whole slew of people. People can befriend a burnt child, a scarred child.
Instead our entire human society has been engineered to view the child as cursed, ugly, unfit for life and impediment to instant gratification.

Does God care? Well this is where it becomes my opinion. I think God does care. I think God wants the child to be able to learn that despite everything, he/she can live and can do something worthwhile. I think that God would like the child to realisehe/she can still be happy about things. I believe God can value the struggle to live. I think God also values those who help her. Every kind word, every tear wept, every selfless act.

I think God values this more than the misery that this life will encounter. Why is this man blind? the disciples asked Jesus. I don't like quoting from the bible too much. But that is essentially what we all ask. Why did she get burned? Why did she get raped? Why was he tortured to death? Why is there famine? and the disciples ask Who's sin was it? His or his parents. We no longer blame people for the tragedies that happen in their lives. But we are still looking for someone to blame. Sue God! We cry today. Sue him for mismanaging his creation. Neither of their sins but that the glory of God may be revealed! Jesus answered. If indeed God could possibly be reflected in good deeds, then yes in the burnt child's life, I believe that God can be revealed.

So this is the conclusions I surmise. God has given everyone an amount of control. You control your voice, your actions, your thoughts. These are yours and no one elses.

If you rape a girl, murder, cheat, so on. God cannot stop you. If he did he would take away what makes you you. You would just be him. If he took it away from one he might have to take it away from everyone. If he destroyed all those who commited sin, maybe he would have to destroy everyone. Can you see through the eyes of a God? But God sees the value in people when they support a rape victim. God sees love, and things that bind people together.
For me this is a personal experience with my mom. No, she wasn't raped, she was snatch-thieved. And once she had fallen down and had a concussion and my 3 year old baby brother was left wailing on the road. This was a terrible event. My mother is the foundation stone of my family. Without her we are apart and separate. She also earns more than half of the family income and that night she came maybe inches from death (milimetres maybe if you count it in brain swelling and bleeding terms). My father was stark raving angry. So was I and my brother. And all of us were helpless. But I remember clearly, that we had all been in one room then. An occurence rare for my family. We were then more than any other night, truly, a family. We were preparing to help each other to support each other whatever happened. What do you value? Sin and evil commited from a dangerous snatch theft? Or the binding together of a family?
Evil can be overcome with good. Trite but true. And God lets us do it. To let us know WE are strong. WE can be alive.
And never forget as stupid as it sounds. God cared as much for the idiot who stole my mom's bad as he did for my mom. As much for the rapist as the victim. The murderer as the dead. We never care about the torture they endure. We don't care. A rapist is a rapist is a rapist. Try. Can you even gain a scrap of pity for a rapist? a child molester? a serial killer? I can't. An all loving God can. If you can't do that and understand that, why are we trying to evaluate God's choices? not only do we not know enough, I think that we are not capable of ever knowing.

There that is my argument for the Existence of Evil. I don't know. But I think it is pretty strong. At least it brings it back to the same question. Do you believe in God? The system works if he exists. The system works if he doesn't. And his existence is not dependent on whatever you believe in anyway. So take that you damned Philosophical Reader Text writers!

Why I'm about to start again!

2007-03-18T03:35:00.000-07:00

Because after a long time of enjoying myself not having to type anything into a blog and enjoying my life as it passes by (more or less) I picked up a philosophy book today and it irritated me that no one has given answers that I have thought of! Okay, that wasn't for me to sound clever. That was the shock that there was no mention of anything even close to my ideas and several arguments given to defend the views and beliefs that I hold were, sacrificing prudence here, PATHETIC!

I was insulted that morons could snipe such beautiful concepts because they were a bunch of jaded and angry people who could think of nothing to do with their life and fueled by all this emotion from nowhere. And I was insulted further morons did not think about what they were doing or standing up for!

Granted, no one can understand everything. And you don't have to understand something to believe in it (a concept I am still trying to tangle with) And okay, not all the writers submitted works without any points whatsoever. There were some good points raised. But the book was so one sided!!!

Okay, what's the real reason I'm pissed? It was a university reading booklet - God, Morality and Ethics or something like that. Each topic had two articles, one written by an atheist and one written by a theist. Basically all I read was - Atheist: there's a lot of bullshit we don't understand and since we're miserable and our lives aren't great like the Mc Donald ads paint how heaven ought to be, there can be no God. Theist: We can't say bullshit cos we are too holy, but yeah God works in mysterious ways, we can't come up with a good theory combining everything and we'll apologise so that we look like we know we are wrong and give you a foolish smile like we're going to do said stupid thing anyway.

What kind of stupid, lopsided, jaded, excuse to poke fun at religious people is this crap we are teaching what are meant to be the future leading generation? Sigh...

So. As an effort to fight stupidity. As an effort to contribute to the equation that is summation of human knowledge, I have decided I will try type upon some of these topics. Maybe I don't know much, and I'll look like an idiot. But, so what? I wouldn't be the first.

Here we go...

Home baked Philosophy

2007-02-10T02:21:00.000-08:00

My mom always had one critique about my ideas. That being they were all home baked and that I never did enough reading.

I admit this is true. I never did read enough about anything. It is always more amusing to listen to my own thoughts than to bother about what someone else writes. I guess that is a bad concept to retain.

However, on my attempts at reading philosophy/religious books, I have always been very unhappy about the read. The most popular books and writings for the most part are written by authors merely agreeing and expounding already well worn facts within society. I often regard this a marketing strategy. Most people who are looking for a way to acertain themselves of their ideas simply find someone who will give them the answer they want. So all these authors do is tie up the well known facts in pretty little words, package them and place them on the bookshelves.

I am not saying these authors are money grubbing fiends out to make a buck from the hapless, silly population. In fact I am very convinced that many writers of such books at least to a degree believe the things they write and wish to spread the word. Therefore, the majority of these books are in effect, useless to learning as all they speak of are well used doctrines and answers.

Perhaps I am being unfair. It takes geniuses (is that the correct word for many genius people?) and individuals with stunning revelations to bring to light greater understanding. Therefore all we have are answers spun round and round to each new generation that has yet to hear of them.

So - I'm bored! In fact the most recent piece of revelation I received was reading the doctrine of Satanism. Which placed the human self/selfishness as its core and ignored the place of all powers that be, God, the Devil or anything else. Of course then the whole thing went into Witchcraft and sacrifices and I completely lost interest as the theorem degenerated into hocus pocus junk, that within may have contained nuggets of scary truths, but generally the kind of ramble the majority of the population for inexplicable reasons love!

Anyway, I digress. Beyond the point of recycled information, I have another really bad problem with these books. That problem stems from the fact that the authors are human!

I consider myself pretty good at dissecting someone's thoughts and experiences if I listen to them and watch them. Reading these books, the author's personal approvals and disapprovals are often extremely apparent. People do not often refuse an ideology for several reasons or in fact the main body of the ideology. People refuse ideologies for a single concept within it that a personal experience has taught them to recoil at. Recognising that it is easy to start to see how the author gets personally involved, will often leave the path of rational argument and use blase argument for all other subjects in the book.

People are all the same. Whether they are atheist, Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, Taoist, agnostic, and so forth(jeez we have a billion religions and definitions today), their mental mechanics work on the same fundamental principles. Different things may aggravate them but the reaction is exactly the same done in the name of whatever belief system they hold to.

So do I have a problem that I have read few books on the matters? No, I don't. I learn as much from talking to and befriending a single individual than many books. Perhaps I am short changing myself and never having taken an official philosophy class I have a large blind spot. Then again, I have heard nothing extraodinary come out of people who do take such classes.

Philosophy, or at least the common sort, is like a complex equation. Put in these parameters and you arrive at this result. Humans, already geared into picking out patterns, quickly learn (mostly subconciously) about how to play this game. And then in most discussions/debates the entire conversation degenerates into a word trap language game, the meaning of the question and answers lost to pride and riddles.

Which is a perfect way to waste many nights of your life if you want to. After many sessions of such convos, I tire of them. We dance around in circles and lose our tempers and I wake up the next morning as stupid as the night before. There are few people whom I have spoken to where we discover something new. And always, these are people who are not seeking their own glory or acting out of spite for a disliked mindset.

So, yes, all my philosophy is home baked. Made from my own observations in my short life span and from other people. I am no scholar. I do not know the big names of modern philosophy nor the big titles that come out. I do not know about the names of theorems or whether or not something I come up with mirrors one closely. I do not even know most of the classifications.

All that I believe due to blind pride, is that I do know something. And maybe there are people out there who would like to listen. I freely admit that I may be wrong. I have been wrong at many conjectures and still hate it as much as the first time I was forced to admit I no longer believe I was correct. I also know I am full of my own hang-ups. Experiences within me that preclude me to certain decisions. Although I have actively searched for such characteristics within myself, I am sure I have not found them all.

So the blind shall lead the blind, and maybe when we all fall down, we can laugh at our own stupidity in relief or in bitterness.