Have u ever felt numb towards anything or anyone or just NUMB. No feelings, nothing u can put ur finger on and name? Why do we like to name things or find an explanation to some phenomenon occuring in our lives? A study on philosophy would tell us that humans as rational beings love to indulge in the art of generating theories about different phenomenons whether normal or extraterrestial. Hence the ability to determine the current emotional state of your very being.
I have recently discovered my ability to feel numb towards certain classes of people. Its weird, I may not even shed tears at their funeral.. coz I am numb. Tears signify sadness, or anger or guilt. Or maybe happiness. But being happy at someone's expense.. even the dead is too morbid! Ewwww!!!
So one of the sins of an idle mind is the ability to feel numb. I only discovered I had the ability to feel numb, when I was idle and had nothing better to think of. I could put a name to my emotion - numb! Amazing!
Another sin is to indulge in fantasy. Like being rescued by a knight in shining armour. Or being so curvy, that it would only be safe to travel in a bullet-proof car, lest all the blondes scream and hound my shadows.
What other sins of an idle mind can I address? This list will become longer with experience.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Sunday, November 11, 2007
The paper chase
The paper chase has derived its name not from the noble efforts of people trying to recycle and save the planet for the next generation, but otherwise from the ones who go about creating more trash in the form of exam notes, test scripts and academic certs.
The boom of the new generation of paper chasers has been encouraged along by the sprouting of new institutions of higher learning with various piss courses with just about any major one can think of. There may even be a major, focusing on the evolution of a soap bubble.
Why do people want certs after certs, pouring millions into this industry.. when in actual fact they will be joining the rat race and slogging hard on unrelated fields in the future. It seems like a waste of time, spending hours poring over textbooks and getting practical training in something u're least likely to be doing when u hit the working world.
Its ironic.. but isn't life ironic??
I'm into paper chasing. And I don't know whether paper chasing is in my genes, or whether I am getting myself into fields I am obsessed about, then decide against upon completion, or just whether I want to remain a professional student all my life.
You bet your holey socks, if they paid bigtime for professional students, I'd be the first to apply.
Til then, I am gonna complete this last paper chase and lie low for awhile til the bug bites again. Then its masters in I dunno wut :p
The boom of the new generation of paper chasers has been encouraged along by the sprouting of new institutions of higher learning with various piss courses with just about any major one can think of. There may even be a major, focusing on the evolution of a soap bubble.
Why do people want certs after certs, pouring millions into this industry.. when in actual fact they will be joining the rat race and slogging hard on unrelated fields in the future. It seems like a waste of time, spending hours poring over textbooks and getting practical training in something u're least likely to be doing when u hit the working world.
Its ironic.. but isn't life ironic??
I'm into paper chasing. And I don't know whether paper chasing is in my genes, or whether I am getting myself into fields I am obsessed about, then decide against upon completion, or just whether I want to remain a professional student all my life.
You bet your holey socks, if they paid bigtime for professional students, I'd be the first to apply.
Til then, I am gonna complete this last paper chase and lie low for awhile til the bug bites again. Then its masters in I dunno wut :p
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Who am I?
What appeared to be a simple exercise of filling out one of those compulsory forms turned out to be a mind-changing episode in my otherwise droll 24-year old life. I’m not creating a mountain out of a mole-hill, but it appears significant enough to deserve a dash of thought.
It started as I poised my pen to fill in the column marked “Race:” Without hesitation I almost wrote ‘non-athletic’. But the column beneath stopped me just in time. This column was labeled “Nationality:” Looking back at Race, I knew it was a far cry from the meaning I'd imposed on it. This started me thinking, what is race?
You don’t have to be a genius to know that Race means ethnic origin. This is summarized to mean the grouping on the human race into various classes of people. How is this classification done?
Perhaps by continent -> Africa, asia, Mongolia, America. This prompted me to look up an encyclopedia on the different ethnic groups in the world. There are three main groups: Caucasian, Negroit and Mongolian.
The task of classifying humans into various groups would have been an arduous task, save for the fact that humans do not remain in a certain area. They immigrate and emigrate. If this does not add to the confusion, it is topped by the fact that human inter-marry, thus producing offspring of mixed ethnicity. Like that helps!
A certain ethnic group is identified by its various; if not special traits. For example, the Caucasian has fair skin, light coloured hair, and speaks languages like French, English and Spanish. But all in the name of education, humans have mastered each other’s ethnic language. This has given birth to a new concept: Borderless society. More chaos!
Back to the question: What is Race? If my nationality is Malaysian because the country of residence is Malaysia, what is my Race? I checked my identity card to eliminate all doubts of my ethnicity. Guess wat?! I’ve been classified as Indian. Wow! The big-wigs at the National Registration Office would make helluva good lawyers. They surpass themselves. Such good liars…what a blatant lie.
I may pass off as an Indian, if the Indian race has traits describing them as coloured, brown, black hair, big eyes. But Malays are coloured, brown and have big eyes too. The only difference is Indians speak Tamil or Hindi. Malays speak the Malay Language.
Back to my case: I speak fluent Malay. In fact, I dream in it, swear in it, compose and sing it. Does this mean I am Malay? Malaysian Syariah Law makes is compulsory that all Malays are Muslims. For the record, I’m Christian. So, I’m not Malay. That eliminates a bit of the complication.
On the other hand, I speak English fluently. In fact, it is my native language since I believe impulses in my brain are transmitted in English. Does this make me Caucasian?Hell no, I’m a coloured thingy. Sun-bathing would not enhance my skin tone, giving it a warm golden tinge. Heck, I’d be dying of skin cancer!
I don’t speak Tamil. I don’t watch Bollywood movies. I don’t fancy wearing the sari or Punjabi suits. I respect them as beautiful national costumes of India. Which brings me back to the point, why call it national costume of India? Well, because it originated from India. Enough said. Would I call it my national costume? No, never! I’m not an India-person. I’m Malaysian. Period.
Here’s a description of a Malaysian:I love watching Hollywood flicks. I enjoy watching serials like Desperate Housewives, Gilmore Girls, ER and Everwood; to name a few. I do not watch it because it is an ‘in-thing’ to do. Rather, I enjoy the dialogue. The script is written so it tickles my sense of humour.
I love bland food. Anything from low-grade curries (on a spicy scale), Chinese food (this is a generic name for the food, though calling it Chinese seems to clash with my very argument above), Nyonya kuih,durian, laksa and nasi lemak. I occasionally eat fastfood. I also love Western (generic name, yet again!) food – chicken chop and steak.
My best friends are people of all colours and creed. What about friends who are from multiracial backgrounds? The National Registration Office has labeled such a friend of mine of mixed parentage, after her father’s ethnic origin. Is this fair? It isn’t. She is 50% father’s race and 50% mother’s race. Isn’t that complicated? Wouldn’t this give birth to a wholly new race? The mixed race? Like our cousins, the Eurasians. Since my friend’s identity card states her father’s ethnic origin, should she then cut her wrists in an attempt to drain out 50% of her mother’s ethnic blood?
Even race matters complicate my love life. Why am I attracted to guys of other ethnic origins? (This may draw shudders and looks of dismay from people of my ethnic origin) Should I hide the fact that I’m attracted to them? No, I will not change who I am to suit society around me. I shall happily date guys of different ethnic origins who share the same beliefs and philosophies of life.
I now know who I am. I am Malaysian. No Indian, Chinese or Malay categorization will make a difference to my very being. If I may add a new category under Race, it would be Malaysian. My nationality would be Asian, since I live in this continent. And for the record, I have never experienced the four seasons either :o)
//written in 2005
It started as I poised my pen to fill in the column marked “Race:” Without hesitation I almost wrote ‘non-athletic’. But the column beneath stopped me just in time. This column was labeled “Nationality:” Looking back at Race, I knew it was a far cry from the meaning I'd imposed on it. This started me thinking, what is race?
You don’t have to be a genius to know that Race means ethnic origin. This is summarized to mean the grouping on the human race into various classes of people. How is this classification done?
Perhaps by continent -> Africa, asia, Mongolia, America. This prompted me to look up an encyclopedia on the different ethnic groups in the world. There are three main groups: Caucasian, Negroit and Mongolian.
The task of classifying humans into various groups would have been an arduous task, save for the fact that humans do not remain in a certain area. They immigrate and emigrate. If this does not add to the confusion, it is topped by the fact that human inter-marry, thus producing offspring of mixed ethnicity. Like that helps!
A certain ethnic group is identified by its various; if not special traits. For example, the Caucasian has fair skin, light coloured hair, and speaks languages like French, English and Spanish. But all in the name of education, humans have mastered each other’s ethnic language. This has given birth to a new concept: Borderless society. More chaos!
Back to the question: What is Race? If my nationality is Malaysian because the country of residence is Malaysia, what is my Race? I checked my identity card to eliminate all doubts of my ethnicity. Guess wat?! I’ve been classified as Indian. Wow! The big-wigs at the National Registration Office would make helluva good lawyers. They surpass themselves. Such good liars…what a blatant lie.
I may pass off as an Indian, if the Indian race has traits describing them as coloured, brown, black hair, big eyes. But Malays are coloured, brown and have big eyes too. The only difference is Indians speak Tamil or Hindi. Malays speak the Malay Language.
Back to my case: I speak fluent Malay. In fact, I dream in it, swear in it, compose and sing it. Does this mean I am Malay? Malaysian Syariah Law makes is compulsory that all Malays are Muslims. For the record, I’m Christian. So, I’m not Malay. That eliminates a bit of the complication.
On the other hand, I speak English fluently. In fact, it is my native language since I believe impulses in my brain are transmitted in English. Does this make me Caucasian?Hell no, I’m a coloured thingy. Sun-bathing would not enhance my skin tone, giving it a warm golden tinge. Heck, I’d be dying of skin cancer!
I don’t speak Tamil. I don’t watch Bollywood movies. I don’t fancy wearing the sari or Punjabi suits. I respect them as beautiful national costumes of India. Which brings me back to the point, why call it national costume of India? Well, because it originated from India. Enough said. Would I call it my national costume? No, never! I’m not an India-person. I’m Malaysian. Period.
Here’s a description of a Malaysian:I love watching Hollywood flicks. I enjoy watching serials like Desperate Housewives, Gilmore Girls, ER and Everwood; to name a few. I do not watch it because it is an ‘in-thing’ to do. Rather, I enjoy the dialogue. The script is written so it tickles my sense of humour.
I love bland food. Anything from low-grade curries (on a spicy scale), Chinese food (this is a generic name for the food, though calling it Chinese seems to clash with my very argument above), Nyonya kuih,durian, laksa and nasi lemak. I occasionally eat fastfood. I also love Western (generic name, yet again!) food – chicken chop and steak.
My best friends are people of all colours and creed. What about friends who are from multiracial backgrounds? The National Registration Office has labeled such a friend of mine of mixed parentage, after her father’s ethnic origin. Is this fair? It isn’t. She is 50% father’s race and 50% mother’s race. Isn’t that complicated? Wouldn’t this give birth to a wholly new race? The mixed race? Like our cousins, the Eurasians. Since my friend’s identity card states her father’s ethnic origin, should she then cut her wrists in an attempt to drain out 50% of her mother’s ethnic blood?
Even race matters complicate my love life. Why am I attracted to guys of other ethnic origins? (This may draw shudders and looks of dismay from people of my ethnic origin) Should I hide the fact that I’m attracted to them? No, I will not change who I am to suit society around me. I shall happily date guys of different ethnic origins who share the same beliefs and philosophies of life.
I now know who I am. I am Malaysian. No Indian, Chinese or Malay categorization will make a difference to my very being. If I may add a new category under Race, it would be Malaysian. My nationality would be Asian, since I live in this continent. And for the record, I have never experienced the four seasons either :o)
//written in 2005
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