07.02.09
Grouses
It’s sitting like that by the window in the dead of the night, wine-intoxicated, that allows me to come to terms with myself. And the strength and frailities within. It’s on a nights like that that truly makes me realise what it means to be truly alive, to be nothing but a mind that cherishes dreams and memories alike, that thinks and laments concurrently, that maddening stream of thoughts that occupies the concsiousness, that surges forth with a rapidity that is hard to capture.
In my half-dazed mode, I’m trying to watch a movie – “10 Items or Less”. It could be that I’m too drunk, or it could be that it is making very poignant observations about life. Either case, I am thinking lots about how chanced encounters with certain people sometimes jolt one into thinking about one’s life. And considering how random such fleeting encounters may be, isn’t it amazing how our lives are absolutely governed by exceedingly random events?
I used to think that ‘Burn After Reading’ was a mega-cast with a stupid plot, but more than any movie I’ve watched, it kept resurfacing as a constant reminder of how absolutely senseless lives can be sometimes. The amazing, amazing bizarreness of it all. It’s like watching the random documentary in IMAX yesterday. It wasn’t much but just looking at Van Gogh’s paintings and his debilitating zeal for capturing everything that he sees with his glorious palette moved me so much that I was on the verge of tears. I thought it was so silly but the tears just wouldn’t stop welling. I kept thinking, how would life be like if we live with a passion that consumes us? How would it be like to put all of yourself into ONE thing, one thing that makes you burn so hard for it?
Cross-country training with Zehnder was the nearest I ever came to a passion. Those were the days when I would have just one uncompromising goal. One goal to centre all of my life around. Although it was the same terrain over and over again, somehow, with the years, it seemed like it could be a perfectible art. With every single run, you knew exactly when to charge and when to take it slow. It’s like you know when to boost your opponent’s morale and when to break their strides. I still remember how it was like in the final Nationals, it was almost like a song. The whole run was like a song…
05.30.09
Then and Now II
To start with, as the leader of both the PAP and the Opposition, Lee Kuan Yew was obviously an ardent defender of democracy and workers’ rights. T.J.S. George recorded such an image in his books:
… a knight-errant of democracy and socialism… Lee could not have been … other than a champion of the oppressed. His time until then had been taken up in defence of workers and students, in opposition to colonialism. He was an advocate of popular causes, a progressive… a liberal whose conscience was sensitive to the slightest sign of injustice around him… Almost any speech he made in the Assembly between 1955 and 1959 could go straight into the liberal democrat’s bedside book-shelf.
A look at the Legislative recods of the time would illustrate Lee’s philosophical bent and also his open criticisms against the government on what he saw as its undemocratic practices. During the First Legislative Assembly sitting on 4 October 1956, this was what Lee charged of the government:
You take over the organisation … the government machinery, the instruments of policy, the administration, the police, broadcasting and all the ‘gimmicks’ of a modern colonial state. Then you use your machinery with the connivance and concurrence of you colonial masters against rival organisations… All you have to do is dissolve organisations and societies and banish or detain the key political workers in these societies… Then an intimidated Press … and the govenrment-controlled radio together can regularly sing your praises and slowly and steadily people are made to forget the evil things that have already been done. Or if these thigns are referred to again, they are conveniently distorted, and distorted with impunity, because there will be no opposition to contadict it… But if we say that we believe in democracy, if we say that the fabric of a democratic society is one which allows for the free play of ideas … then, in the name of all the gods … give that free play a chance to work within the constitutional framework…
–
Although LKY had issues with the communist faction in his party, he said this of them:
They are not crooks or opportunists. These are men with great resolve, dedicated to the communist revolution … many are prepared to pay the price… in terms of personal freedom and sacrifice.
I think the quote captures how the clash of ideology is sometimes less of political opportunism but more of a dedicated belief in what works best
05.26.09
Heaven and Hell
As a Christian, the most difficult question that I need to ask myself is – ‘why hell?’ If I were to look at the Old Testament God I would be able to comprehend, for the old God is portrayed as a fear-inspiring, jealous and vengeful God. Even though he seems arbitrary in his issuance of the concept of ‘justice’ I feel more amicable towards this plain, realist concept of ‘might is right’ than the seemingly unaccounted for penalty of death in the New Testament.
If Christ was so forgiving even in his last moment towards the Roman guards who crucified, speared and humiliated him – “Father, please forgive them for they do not know what they are doing,” when they have obviously witnessed and defiled Him, why does he turned away from trillions of people who might have simply not given much thought to his Words or have rejected Him based on imperfect information? I always believed that God gave us a brain and thus we should use it. Since, the concept of God is obviously not falsifiable in any conceivable way, rational people (a breed whom he created along with the less rational ones) who have faith in science (which is but one of the many ways which allow us to study the wonder of his creation) would naturally conclude that it is a futile search and conclude at best that they do not know. If there were no compelling reasons to believe, other than a personal experience with God that follows after believing, how do rational people who have not believed convince themselves to do so?
The best explanation that I have heard in defense of the separation of believers and non-believers states that non-believers who rejected God would not delight in His presence and hence, it might be tormentous to put them in Heaven with God, for an expansive eternity. I buy that argument because I cannot imagine myself worshipping somebody whose cause I do not believe and whose rule I abhor. Nevertheless, akin to societies on earth, people do not always have to love their governments for them to want to obey the laws and for them to want to live in relative peace and comfort. I am pretty sure that there are tonnes of people who would prefer a long-lived tyrant to a lifetime of imprisonment in the depths of licking flames. Even if people would prefer to opt out of bible studies, Everyday (as opposed to Sunday) school and thanksgiving, I do not necessarily think that they have opted for hell by default. I think exclusion in the form of confinement or neglect would suffice as a form of segregation. Is there a need to really punish them FOREVER by placing them in the throes of licking flames and allowing their bones to be burned to an ashen white?
When I imagine almost 70% of the people whom I love burning in Hell for their failure to accept a set of belief that is pockmarked by unintelligible reasons, unbelievable crimes and unfathomable laws, I cannot will myself to accept that this belief issues the best possible Truth. I would choose to burn in Hell than serve a God who burns people I love endlessly because they have failed to love Him. A Father who professes to love me unconditionally and beyond ways I can comprehend, would find it impossible to burn the people whom I love more dearly than myself and yet be able to profess that at the very same time. It is a blatent double-think that prescribes two mutually exclusive conditions that ought not exist simultaneously under any logical circumstances. But perhaps, God does not use logic and he most definitely does not need to, he has other tools and rules and way of thinking that is higher than ours. Christianity is a rounded concept, and whenever you reach a logical dead-end like this, you only have one way out and that is called ‘the leap of faith’. The Leap requires that you drop your logical armament and proceed with an unassailable blind faith that would shield you against any atheist corruption. And herein lies another manifestation of my eternal antagonistic selves. I have leapt across the abyss of reason and yet as I walk on I realised that a boulder tied to me with an infinitely long rope has fallen off into the bottomless abyss. Amen.
05.25.09
Then and Now
As a party in the Opposition, the PAP campaigned and fought for certain principles. These principles were declared in its Mass Rally at the Victoria Memorial Hall on 30 January 1955, and also in its 1955 election campaign. The Rally called for five resolutions, namely:
i. that the supreme authority of the govenrment should be vested in the people’s elected representatives and not the Governor.
ii. that the present regulations under the Emergency Ordinance which prohibited the freedom of speech, expression, assembly of association, be removed so as to achieve democracy
iii. that there should be a multilingual Assembly to reflect the multi-racial composition of the people,
iv. that the provisions in the Labour Ordinance which prohibited the setting up of political funds by unions be repealed as this is undemocractic
v. that the REndel Commission’s provision recognising the extra-territorial rights of the British military forces in Singapore be repealed as it is an infringement of sovereignty
vi. merger with Malaysia
vii. the scrapping of National Service (it argued that only a fully-elected Assembly has the right to introduce conscription
viii. legislating a Workers’ Charter to give more rights to workers
IX. free education for all children below 16 years
X. the necessity to build low cost housing and clear the many slum areas
05.21.09
Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf
When the Penguin told me to watch ‘Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf’ by Edward Albee, he didn’t tell me to NOT watch it at night, and so I did. It was not meant to be of course, because it is too depressing a show to watch in the dead of the night. The theme of failed marriage(s) and pretences in the face of reality were hardly bed-time stories to go to sleep with.
In his work, Albee picks at every single sliver of pretence and tears it apart with pure vehemence. For anyone who has gone through a long, unhappy relationship that for some reason did not end expectedly, he or she would relate to the mad and bitter tirade between Martha and George. The ability to use the vilest of words and the most despicable tactics possible to get at the person that you know only too well. The sharpest incisions into the weakest spots. Yet, it is ironically this very ability that keeps the marriage together because it is the preciseness of the assaults that strangely forms a bond of intimacy and confidential knowledge, one that is unduplicable elsewhere with a different person.
Towards the end of the story, before the climatic exorcism, Martha divulges the way she has habitually attacked George’s weak spots in their tortured relationship. In a remarkable moment of self-revelation, she acknowledges her deep, authentic, triumphant love and bond with her soulmate, which I thought was exceedingly poignant.
You’re all flops. I am the Earth Mother, and you are all flops. (To herself) I disgust me. You know, there’s only been one man in my whole life who’s ever made me happy. Do you know that?…George, my husband…George, who is out somewhere there in the dark, who is good to me – whom I revile, who can keep learning the games we play as quickly as I can change them. Who can make me happy and I do not wish to be happy. Yes, I do wish to be happy. George and Martha: Sad, sad, sad…Whom I will not forgive for having come to rest; for having seen me and having said: yes, this will do; who has made the hideous, the hurting, the insulting mistake of loving me and must be punished for it. George and Martha: Sad, sad, sad…Some day, hah! Some night, some stupid, liquor-ridden night, I will go too far and I’ll either break the man’s back or I’ll push him off for good which is what I deserve.
I also sort of liked how the ’supposedly’ innocent and perfect couple represented by Nick and Honey were cornered as the story progressed. Their image was symptomatic of the blissful appearances that many married couples fight to maintain in the public’s eyes, and it was in some ways cathartic to understand how such perfection are not always achievable ideals. As Martha and George up their antes by using their guests as pawns, we begin to see the young couple’s perfection buckle under, thereby revealing the equally disturbing foundations on which their marriage rest on. Not quite dissimilar to George and Martha’s and perhaps a parallel to what could have been the case in an earlier period in the former’s marriage.
The story ended after George announced to Martha that their ’son’ (a figment of imagination that had lasted throughout the entirety of the show) had died. Martha grew hysterical at George’s murder of her only solace in their broken and estranged relationship. The only commonality that had bounded them together throughout all these years of their failed marriage. However, one also appreciates how George is in fact purging their relationships of all the unncessary pretenses, lies and false comforts. Through this violent carthasis, or exorcism in Albee’s word, the couple are then able to regard each other in greater truth and honesty and not hide behind a comforting lie. This reconciliation was depicted at the end of the show as George held Martha lightly and sang the line ‘Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” to which she answered, “I am George.” Martha’s confession that she’s “afraid of Virginia Woolf” is a realistic admission and confession that she is afraid of reality, but ready to face it honestly and openly from now on, without continuing to harbor an illusion about a non-existent son
In this play, the mention of Virginia Woolf is equated with the prospect of having one’s life placed under the searing perspicacity of an observer like Virginia Woolf, which is coterminous with the idea of regarding one’s life in a manner that is so brutally honest that no lies can germinate. I also liked how what alcohol symbolised in the show. The characters’ eventual boldness and honesty were brought out as they imbibed more and more alcohol and yet as more truths were being unravelled, they sought to drink even more so as to drown out reality and illicit morsels of courage from having their senses and reason being dulled. It is all very real but painful to watch, yet the audience feel compelled to watch it because they are not drunk and hence are not impervious to the dramatic irony of the characters’ fate.
All in all, a pretty interesting text with themes which are only too familiar in our lives. It’s like watching one’s life emptied out in a black box. Very disquieting.
05.19.09
Marathon of a different kind
These few days I have been doing nothing except trying to make a DVD rental company regret its policy. Play! has recently launched a monthly subscription package that offers UNLIMITED DVD rental for $25, it is my personal goal to watch AT LEAST 4 movies a day on average to make sure that I finish EVERY SINGLE MOVIE that they have in that machine. =) I think it offers me a fanstastically legitimate reason to idle non-stop. I’ve watched 12 in 3 days, so far so good. Heh.
One REALLY good movie that I’ve caught was Charlie Wilson’s War which is essentially a standard Hollywood cocktail of politics, hot celebrities and awesome quotes. It’s pretty cool because many people have been criticising US for training the Mujahideens in Afgahnistan thereby creating a terrorist hotbed with their own hands and I thought the show demonstrated how it could have been an imperative back then. I also like it cos I am at times disturbed by how sometimes states are referred to like singular, undifferentiated entities when in actuality politics is really a lot more complicated than that, with many actors affecting decisions at every single juncture. In fact, U.S. support for the Mujahideens seemed to have been rather seredipitous in the movie. It’s also pretty good because I can never remember history well and such stories make it easier.
Am going to keep a list of the watched films.
Bedtime Stories; City of Angels; Vicky Cristina Barcelona; Phonebooth; The Women; Driving Lessons; Your Name is Justine; It’s a Boy-Girl Thing; The Day the Earth Stood Still; Charlie Wilson’s War; Catch Me If You Can; Into the Wild; Breakfast at Tiffany; Half Nelson; The Duchess; Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf; Frost/Nixon; Lions for Lambs; No Country for the Old Man; Body of Lies; Departures, Devil Wears Prada, Children of Glory; Wedding Daze; Pink Panther 2; Darjeeling Limited; Little Miss Sunshine
05.11.09
A nice rendition of my favourite hymn
It’s always hard to believe that God is around when He seems so easy to be assailed by logic and reason. One can only trust with a foolhardy heart that He is there. He might not be of course, but as Pascal says, there is a hole in the heart that is in the shape of God. Sometimes it’s strange how Atheists share an equally unreasonable faith about (the absence of) God.
05.07.09
Love
Can it be that some people are not built for monogamous, long and stable relationships?
Strange strange life
Life is very, very strange. In fact, a world that has organised, urban societies is even stranger. It’s like a mad trial. You are forced to learn so many things in such a short period of time that sometimes you don’t even get to think. Considering the high degree of stress, it’s amazing how most people get through it without going crazy. Maybe it’s cos they don’t think. Not thinking is a gift, it enables you to just go from moments to moments. It’s never about the past or future, it’s always about the present. I wish I would live more in the present.
05.06.09
Idle
For some reasons unbeknownst to me, I find myself thinking about literature of late. In particular, I feel that I have been revisiting an earlier idea that I had about it before I came into university, which is that works of literature (fiction) are useless because they are not real. It is doubtlessly a pretty extreme idea but somehow it got deeply lodged in my system such that I always feel that I am wasting my time when I find myself reading fiction. I really enjoy books like Chrysalid (a sci-fi exploring a post-apocalypse society that practise an extreme form of christian fundamentalism) and Eleven Minutes (Coelho’s narration of a woman’s journey through sex, prostitution and SM), but somehow I always feel very bad for wasting time on this kind of useless fiction. It’s like partaking in a really exciting voyeuristic gossip that does not even involve real people. Worse still, sometimes I feel like I get socialised into thinking about certain phenomena in society by the writer/Sparknotes writers/ Wikipedia contributors e.g. racism/communism is bad. Of course, I try to exercise discretion but it’s hard coming out from a book like 1984 saying yes to communism. But yea, it’s impossible to not get socialised doing anything.
In the past few days I came across a few ideas that challenge my earlier conclusions a little and I thought I would write them down so that I would not bash myself up for wasting time this holidays reading useless classics. =D
“In his discussion of absurd art, Camus recommends that writers confine themselves to description, and not attempt to explain the world. Explanation is an attempt to impose some order on experience, to make sense of the world, and thus tries to go beyond a mere acceptance and awareness of the unreasonableness of the universe. Rather than try to explain why the world is the way it is, an absurd artist should just give as full a description of the world as he sees it.”
Reason 1: They are brave, honest descriptions of reality.
“In characterizing poetry as more philosophical, universal, and momentous than history, Aristotle praises poets for their ability to assay deep features of human character, to dissect the ways in which human fortune engages and tests character, and to display how human foibles may be amplified in uncommon circumstances. We do not, however, reflect on character primarily for entertainment value. Rather, and in general, Aristotle thinks of the goal of tragedy in broadly intellectualist terms: the function of tragedy is ‘learning, that is, figuring out what each thing is’. In Aristotle’s view, tragedy teaches us about ourselves.”
Reason 2: They make you think, reason and reflect.
Actually I still think these are rather inadequate reasons but they shall suffice for the moment. I’ll look for more.
