Horace: 'Carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero'...or something like that. Splendid stuff, but a little over-quoted.
Posting an advert for anybody who can do a lovely BIG BAMBI EYES impression. I'll buy (a cheap) lunch for the winner...BIG BAMBI EYES. Cutesy...yes, lovely bambi eyes.
Speaking of eyes - have you every wondered at the little miracle of non-verbal communication? Sometimes you can almost 'feel' somebody else's emotion beating with each pounding pulsation of their heart. Every grimace, every glance - it shows.
When you brighten somebody's day take a moment to reflect on how that transient interaction with another human being just affected you... the 'blessing' reflects back and does a double-whammy - hey presto, you've just done yourself a good turn. Gosh, I'm so full of it....you'd think a bore would know when to stop...but a boar doesn't...
Everybody get an ISA. Now. It's good for you. If you don't know what I mean, drop me an email and I'll explain...
The Pope. Bless him. Lovely octagenarian, a polished theologian in his heyday. The general consensus seems to be that he's a poor old man pushing himself through unnecessary suffering; he's hardly 'in charge' anyway. No matter. I can't help but admire the man's utter dedication, senseless though some might think it. DICTUM MEUM PACTUM. His word - his bond. The commitment to the very end, through good and bad, in sickness and health.
Logic dictates that old people who have had joint replacements, gunshot wounds, Parkinson's disease, recurrent chest infections and tracheostomies should be convalescing in a hospice. I'm not a Catholic but there's one thing most human beings seem to agree upon - a promise is a promise. I know that we often absolve ourselves/others of duties and obligations (for medics: see 'Sick Role'). Sure, he could just be a stubborn old man clinging to the faintest vesper of 'dignity' that comes from his official infallibility. Or - it could just be plain old senility. Many of us (most likely myself included) would take 'the sensible way out' - I'm just glad he's there to show 'most of us' that a promise, once made, ought to be kept. Whether 'sto lat' rings true for JPII or he hangs up the zuchetto tomorrow, some applause, admiration and prayers for the health of a courageous, humble and truly doggedly determined person are certainly long overdue.
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
Monday, March 28, 2005
Addendum
BBC NEWS | Magazine | A Point of View
This chap writes infinitely better prose than my smattering of thought-droppings.
Read well.
This chap writes infinitely better prose than my smattering of thought-droppings.
Read well.
Friday, March 25, 2005
Polar opposite or befuddled extremist?
Before I give blogging a break for a while, I think I ought to write a 'proper' post. The past few (from Main en griffe onwards) have been lumps of trite nonsense typed during my periods of R&R this past week.
Here's a thought that coalesced while I struggled (manfully, may I add; successfully, too) to spread a non-fitted sheet over my bed.
I've had quite a few arguments/diatribes about 'ethics' with various people. I think I'm generally a non-confrontational sort of person. I prefer to extract an opinion and find the best way of agreeing with the truth I can find in it, even if the crux runs counter to all my prevailing thoughts. My conscience dictates, however, that I expunge my brain of this filth right now - so here goes.
These are my opinions. They'll probably change someday. I don't apologise - I tolerate and I expect the same of others.
I have often found myself trying to take a stand in the 'middle ground' of an argument; comparing my views to those of others I (somewhat generously) declare myself a 'conservative liberal' (balderdash, I know - but give and take a little, c'mon). Let's look at pre-implantation genetic diagnosis (yada-yada-yada - here we go again). Would I allow it? Yes, but only for certain circumstances. So the conservatives and liberals alike slam my views as 'inconsistent.' The con declares I've betrayed my religious Christian principles, I've 'done a Judas' on absolute truth and descended into the moral abyss of post-modern relativism. The lib claims likewise that he's sickened by my narrow-minded willingness to cling to irrationally maintained 'ethical' standards that discriminate and cause hurt. So they've both spouted that I'm a neolithic throwback to an extremist era. Hmm...
Let's see. I'd allow a couple to choose a non-Huntington's foetus if one parent was diagnosed (pre-symptomatically) with the disease. If there was a treatment, I'd prefer that; I still believe that life begins at conception - c'mon, you can mutter on about neural self-awareness but at the end of the day it starts somewhere. (Yes, a simplification - I'm not getting into the whole Pope thing about spilling of seed). Put it down to my 'rigid' Christian belief. Yet practically I'd still allow you to 'select' a foetus - doesn't that run counter to my 'absolute' standard of faith? Yes, it does. I'm flawed - I'm human - I sin - I know. The con now mentions that I'm deliberately, knowingly, intentionally sinning (no quote-marks around 'sin' this time). Sure - so why do it?
E-M-P-A-T-H-Y. As I said before - I'm human. The good, kind, benevolent Lord did not give us medical technology just so we could use karyotyping to design wallpapers - we ought not to use all technological advances willy-nilly just to turn the earth into smithereens for our own amusement but, where we can eliminate suffering - we should try our darndest. It sounds like such tripe, but that's why I'm hanging on to this crazed idea of becoming a doctor. So I can give every OUNCE into doing something that will (hopefully) cure more than kill. Just imagine the couple who are told that they will have to raise a child who will one day grow up to have a disease that will kill him in his forties. Then imagine you're that couple. Then imagine you're that child. You could say that you would 'stoically' (the lib) accept your lot; you could say that God will grant you peace and blessings, that at least you haven't tried to 'play God' (the con) - either way, you're gonna die at forty-four. Now, feel some pain. You wouldn't want it to happen to you, so would you do it to anybody else? Life's too short - why shorten it? Life is precious. Now the con yells that I'm taking life in my quest to 'play God' and seek an immoral standard of perfection for the parents. 'No goal should warrant the bludgeoning of THE SIXTH COMMANDMENT upon the altar of moral relativism and wishful thinking, no matter how altruistic the objective.' The con can't comprehend my sheer arrogance and paternalism; my utter disregard for the absolute commandment.
No, I don't attach different standards of 'value' to a Huntington's versus a non-Huntington's life. Then again, NO - I don't see any reason to NOT cure the condition - you wouldn't ever say that the good Lord placed Vibrio cholerae on his good earth just so that humankind would learn to to live with the demonstration of his mighty power? You see, the good Lord thankfully gave us mere humans the gift of an intellect that discovered antibiotics and oral rehydration therapy. We can cure. So we should cure. Until then, let us ease some pain in the lives of others. It is not a sin to save - discarding IV foetuses (con) is indirect murder; I recognise it. The lib screams: IF YOU DIDN'T HAVE THIS BELIEF YOU WOULDN'T HAVE TO BOTHER YOUR LITTLE MIND WITH SUCH TRIVIA AND YOU COULD JUST GET ON WITH SAVING THE LIFE!!! The lib's got his merits, but the motivation would then be lost.
I disagree with taking life (unless it's annoying and crawls on six legs or buzzes with a sting and doesn't deliver honey). I'm NOT a vegetarian - I love meat. We are not here to 'play God' but central to my personal belief and motivation is what I like to call 'the divine hand' (committing philosophical suicide, he continues)...
Life is a precious gift. It seems that I would allow a procedure that seems to violate one of my ethical/religious standards just to qualify a different one; back to square one. A lib or a con? By whose standards? A fence sitter or a fence-crusher (under his own weight, mind you - barbed wire is painful). I'm still caught in the middle, against a wall, with both sides pushing me down two sides of very slippery slopes.
I know I've blundered through some pretty hypocritical statements above - forgive me. The question must be asked; I would allow the procedure (before a cure is found - trust me - it'll happen some day - give it time - everything happens) - would I ever do the same for myself? Now we can bring ABORTION and EUTHANASIA into the picture. Oh goody! Hurrah! Harrumph. No. No. No. Another day. Another time.
Here's a thought that coalesced while I struggled (manfully, may I add; successfully, too) to spread a non-fitted sheet over my bed.
I've had quite a few arguments/diatribes about 'ethics' with various people. I think I'm generally a non-confrontational sort of person. I prefer to extract an opinion and find the best way of agreeing with the truth I can find in it, even if the crux runs counter to all my prevailing thoughts. My conscience dictates, however, that I expunge my brain of this filth right now - so here goes.
These are my opinions. They'll probably change someday. I don't apologise - I tolerate and I expect the same of others.
I have often found myself trying to take a stand in the 'middle ground' of an argument; comparing my views to those of others I (somewhat generously) declare myself a 'conservative liberal' (balderdash, I know - but give and take a little, c'mon). Let's look at pre-implantation genetic diagnosis (yada-yada-yada - here we go again). Would I allow it? Yes, but only for certain circumstances. So the conservatives and liberals alike slam my views as 'inconsistent.' The con declares I've betrayed my religious Christian principles, I've 'done a Judas' on absolute truth and descended into the moral abyss of post-modern relativism. The lib claims likewise that he's sickened by my narrow-minded willingness to cling to irrationally maintained 'ethical' standards that discriminate and cause hurt. So they've both spouted that I'm a neolithic throwback to an extremist era. Hmm...
Let's see. I'd allow a couple to choose a non-Huntington's foetus if one parent was diagnosed (pre-symptomatically) with the disease. If there was a treatment, I'd prefer that; I still believe that life begins at conception - c'mon, you can mutter on about neural self-awareness but at the end of the day it starts somewhere. (Yes, a simplification - I'm not getting into the whole Pope thing about spilling of seed). Put it down to my 'rigid' Christian belief. Yet practically I'd still allow you to 'select' a foetus - doesn't that run counter to my 'absolute' standard of faith? Yes, it does. I'm flawed - I'm human - I sin - I know. The con now mentions that I'm deliberately, knowingly, intentionally sinning (no quote-marks around 'sin' this time). Sure - so why do it?
E-M-P-A-T-H-Y. As I said before - I'm human. The good, kind, benevolent Lord did not give us medical technology just so we could use karyotyping to design wallpapers - we ought not to use all technological advances willy-nilly just to turn the earth into smithereens for our own amusement but, where we can eliminate suffering - we should try our darndest. It sounds like such tripe, but that's why I'm hanging on to this crazed idea of becoming a doctor. So I can give every OUNCE into doing something that will (hopefully) cure more than kill. Just imagine the couple who are told that they will have to raise a child who will one day grow up to have a disease that will kill him in his forties. Then imagine you're that couple. Then imagine you're that child. You could say that you would 'stoically' (the lib) accept your lot; you could say that God will grant you peace and blessings, that at least you haven't tried to 'play God' (the con) - either way, you're gonna die at forty-four. Now, feel some pain. You wouldn't want it to happen to you, so would you do it to anybody else? Life's too short - why shorten it? Life is precious. Now the con yells that I'm taking life in my quest to 'play God' and seek an immoral standard of perfection for the parents. 'No goal should warrant the bludgeoning of THE SIXTH COMMANDMENT upon the altar of moral relativism and wishful thinking, no matter how altruistic the objective.' The con can't comprehend my sheer arrogance and paternalism; my utter disregard for the absolute commandment.
No, I don't attach different standards of 'value' to a Huntington's versus a non-Huntington's life. Then again, NO - I don't see any reason to NOT cure the condition - you wouldn't ever say that the good Lord placed Vibrio cholerae on his good earth just so that humankind would learn to to live with the demonstration of his mighty power? You see, the good Lord thankfully gave us mere humans the gift of an intellect that discovered antibiotics and oral rehydration therapy. We can cure. So we should cure. Until then, let us ease some pain in the lives of others. It is not a sin to save - discarding IV foetuses (con) is indirect murder; I recognise it. The lib screams: IF YOU DIDN'T HAVE THIS BELIEF YOU WOULDN'T HAVE TO BOTHER YOUR LITTLE MIND WITH SUCH TRIVIA AND YOU COULD JUST GET ON WITH SAVING THE LIFE!!! The lib's got his merits, but the motivation would then be lost.
I disagree with taking life (unless it's annoying and crawls on six legs or buzzes with a sting and doesn't deliver honey). I'm NOT a vegetarian - I love meat. We are not here to 'play God' but central to my personal belief and motivation is what I like to call 'the divine hand' (committing philosophical suicide, he continues)...
Life is a precious gift. It seems that I would allow a procedure that seems to violate one of my ethical/religious standards just to qualify a different one; back to square one. A lib or a con? By whose standards? A fence sitter or a fence-crusher (under his own weight, mind you - barbed wire is painful). I'm still caught in the middle, against a wall, with both sides pushing me down two sides of very slippery slopes.
I know I've blundered through some pretty hypocritical statements above - forgive me. The question must be asked; I would allow the procedure (before a cure is found - trust me - it'll happen some day - give it time - everything happens) - would I ever do the same for myself? Now we can bring ABORTION and EUTHANASIA into the picture. Oh goody! Hurrah! Harrumph. No. No. No. Another day. Another time.
Magyar Templom
The great Easter shutdown has begun; the exodus of happy Britons leaving their (already sunny) shores for (slightly too) sunny climes (e.g. slightly further along the M4) always amuses me. Every year, drive in, drive out. Why leave when the weather's just getting warmer? Oh yes - don't shut the country down - I wanted to go for a swim today - the one day this side of Christmas they decide to shut the pool. Argh.
A bright yellow sign attached to a streetlamp outside my flat directs unwary pedestrians to a nearby 'Magyar Templom' - code for 'Secret gathering of endocrinologists attempting to take over the world by squirting everybody with several billion milligrams of troglitazone.' Or, rather, 'Hungarian church' - for those in the know.
We are all like small tubes of pasta (Penne), floating in a saucepan...then somebody lights a flame. It suddenly starts to feel nice and warm. Oh - look! Bubbles! Let's relax and float around. Hang on a second - ouch - argh - that's - ack. Before long, encased and buried 6mm under chicken and pesto. The moral of the story? Notice the small things, like 'Magyar Templom' before it's too late and life boils over.
A bright yellow sign attached to a streetlamp outside my flat directs unwary pedestrians to a nearby 'Magyar Templom' - code for 'Secret gathering of endocrinologists attempting to take over the world by squirting everybody with several billion milligrams of troglitazone.' Or, rather, 'Hungarian church' - for those in the know.
We are all like small tubes of pasta (Penne), floating in a saucepan...then somebody lights a flame. It suddenly starts to feel nice and warm. Oh - look! Bubbles! Let's relax and float around. Hang on a second - ouch - argh - that's - ack. Before long, encased and buried 6mm under chicken and pesto. The moral of the story? Notice the small things, like 'Magyar Templom' before it's too late and life boils over.
Thursday, March 24, 2005
Lunatic
Have you ever felt the urge to howl at the moon? Trust me - it's there. I was just stunned by the sheer brilliance and (for want of a better word) roundness of the moon this evening - utterly gobsmacked. So round, so perfect; its silvery sheen casting a spell over me - so I begin to sing...'When the night has come and the land is dark and the moon is the only light we'll see...no I won't be afraid - no I won't be afraid - just as long as you stand, stand by me...' The moonlight is enchanting. I tend to notice it quite often but tonight's warranted some firm blog-raving about the beauty of the moon. Entranced.
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
Ho hum, Hobbits hanging on.
It's that time of year again - I get the old LOTR-longing. Don't quite know what to make of it - delaying the 12-hour-20-minute continuous viewing of the extended edition DVDs for the post-exam haze. Still, the soundtrack playing in the background is enough to make me wish I was 'back' in Middle-Earth. Crazy nutter.
Aeschylus (yes, I think he's the one who was killed by a falling tortoise dropped by an eagle mistaking his bald head for a stone) once said:
"There is no pain so great as the memory of joy in present grief."
At least that's what the (hopefully reliable, woefully 'unhopeful') website claims.
I have practically nothing to complain about, realistically - I'm well provided for (at least I think so), I have a loving family (at least I remember), good friends (at least I believe so), a roof over my head and an expensive education.
What happy memories can I conjure up? I know that I confabulate a lot - but there's no need for that now. In reverse chronological order:
1) Hitchhiking last summer - enjoying the journey as much as the destination. Utter peace in the hubbub; taking everything in moderate excess.
2) Lazing about on the porch of my uncle's house in Ipoh, Malaysia last summer as tropical winds blew in a monsoon to cool the scorching heat.
3) Watching the calm waves break on the beach of a Maldivian island on my 18th birthday. Bliss.
The list goes on. So much to be grateful for. Why would one want more? Simply because there is more to be had? I don't really know, to be honest. Thankfully one doesn't forget that oh-so-very-important-emotional-modulator:
"This too, shall pass."
I have dallied long enough and time (like that ocean tide I find such bliss in recalling) is passing me by...
Aeschylus (yes, I think he's the one who was killed by a falling tortoise dropped by an eagle mistaking his bald head for a stone) once said:
"There is no pain so great as the memory of joy in present grief."
At least that's what the (hopefully reliable, woefully 'unhopeful') website claims.
I have practically nothing to complain about, realistically - I'm well provided for (at least I think so), I have a loving family (at least I remember), good friends (at least I believe so), a roof over my head and an expensive education.
What happy memories can I conjure up? I know that I confabulate a lot - but there's no need for that now. In reverse chronological order:
1) Hitchhiking last summer - enjoying the journey as much as the destination. Utter peace in the hubbub; taking everything in moderate excess.
2) Lazing about on the porch of my uncle's house in Ipoh, Malaysia last summer as tropical winds blew in a monsoon to cool the scorching heat.
3) Watching the calm waves break on the beach of a Maldivian island on my 18th birthday. Bliss.
The list goes on. So much to be grateful for. Why would one want more? Simply because there is more to be had? I don't really know, to be honest. Thankfully one doesn't forget that oh-so-very-important-emotional-modulator:
"This too, shall pass."
I have dallied long enough and time (like that ocean tide I find such bliss in recalling) is passing me by...
Peace, Perfect Peace
"Peace, Perfect Peace"
Christian Charles Siems, sometime in the past couple of centuries. Lucky him. Quite a caption, I thought. Had to stop and stare, at least for a while.
On another note - low-salt crisps aren't that great - they just make you want to eat more to reach that threshold of tolerance...
Christian Charles Siems, sometime in the past couple of centuries. Lucky him. Quite a caption, I thought. Had to stop and stare, at least for a while.
On another note - low-salt crisps aren't that great - they just make you want to eat more to reach that threshold of tolerance...
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
Grunters etc
I have a passionate dislike for people who grunt. Grunters. Very annoying. Mrrrghh...grunters....mmrrrhgghh... extremely inconsiderate. They're just like leg-shakers - the people who share your benches/lecture rows and spontaneously decide to effect some kind of clonus-like movement - perhaps I'm just too irascible - can't take the massive chunk of timber out of my own eyes. Water is good. It sustains life. I like water.
Here are more pet peeves - dogs barking continuously; people blasting music extremely loudly from their cars with the windows down; people who like to hack up copious amounts of phlegm and splatter it on the pavement (Fools! You'll give yourself a humour imbalance!), etc etc.
Have been saying 'yada-yada' quite a fair amount lately. Found myself singing an odd combination of "Unchained Melody meets The Muppet Show" just now.
No prognostications now - time will tell. Incredibly hungry. Hyperphagic, almost - but not quite.
Here are more pet peeves - dogs barking continuously; people blasting music extremely loudly from their cars with the windows down; people who like to hack up copious amounts of phlegm and splatter it on the pavement (Fools! You'll give yourself a humour imbalance!), etc etc.
Have been saying 'yada-yada' quite a fair amount lately. Found myself singing an odd combination of "Unchained Melody meets The Muppet Show" just now.
No prognostications now - time will tell. Incredibly hungry. Hyperphagic, almost - but not quite.
Monday, March 21, 2005
Main en griffe
Aaaaaarrrrrrrggggghhhhh!!!!!
It's driving me mad.......argggghhh!!!!!!
Need to take some snuff. Excuse me, please.
It's driving me mad.......argggghhh!!!!!!
Need to take some snuff. Excuse me, please.
Sunday, March 20, 2005
Sullen
Dunces reap your wastefully ingenuous tripe.
(not very good, I know).
Many yearn hungrily; each awful rotten taste is stultifyingly morose. You obviously will never imagine why. Actually, never trying is terrible. Braced against childish knavery. Abiding loss, another sigh.
(eh?!)
(not very good, I know).
Many yearn hungrily; each awful rotten taste is stultifyingly morose. You obviously will never imagine why. Actually, never trying is terrible. Braced against childish knavery. Abiding loss, another sigh.
(eh?!)
Saturday, March 19, 2005
Ars Longa, Vita Brevis
Ceaseless afflictions, tauntingly replete in obvious, naive adoration.
Alas, nobody overcomes ignorance, repetition truly abjures confidence.
Alas, nobody overcomes ignorance, repetition truly abjures confidence.
Friday, March 18, 2005
Springtime
Just played a round of ultimate frisbee in the park - beautiful weather, with the sun streaming through the clouds flitting through an awesome blue sky. A really dreary 'communication skills' lecture (trust me, this was boring with a capital B) in which the demonstrator repeatedly mentioned how she would love to be 'outside in the lovely sunshine' - incredible to breathe the fresh air of spring.
Thus begins 5 weeks of revision for exams. Come hell or high water, we somehow have to survive.
Closed again, tossed, rebuffed, I only need absolution.
Thus begins 5 weeks of revision for exams. Come hell or high water, we somehow have to survive.
Closed again, tossed, rebuffed, I only need absolution.
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
Diatribe; waste of emotion.
Thursday: Quiz
Friday: Crucible Reunion
Saturday: Satisfy sushi craving
Sunday: OWW Reunion
Monday???
I keep bumping into people. Ms French, my Chemistry teacher from school; a play director; etc. The world's so small now I seem to have lost some of the awe and wonder at the splendour of scale...
I want out...out out out out out. To snuggle in a nice little cosy bed with a silky down-filled duvet. Switch on the hifi and listen to Bach, sip some tea and let yourself slide into an eternal sleep. Don't forget to leave the gas pipes on. That's the way to go.
It's depressing to work when you watch other people beavering away; it's even more annoying when the sun is shining outside and all you can worry about is the significance of measuring bone markers and their significance in osteoporosis. Why do people do this? I don't understand. It's mind-numbing. Life is so unfair. I sound like a whining spoiled brat. Smile and the world smiles with you...fart/belch - and you'll be ALL ALONE. Decided that I must go on a hell-raising bender this summer; the final long one of all time - sob (no, not 'shortness of breath'). It just doesn't bear thinking about.
What inspirational thing can my sordid little mind drag from the dregs of the subconscious pit of my emotions - yeah, the one that froths with lava-bubbles bursting over jets of acrolein-scented hog-juice...?
One thing. One very quiet, sublime little thought - take a moment to sit and think. Amidst all the trouble, worry and strife (believe me, there's a lot in the world out there - just try counting the number of people with ingrowing toenails) it's nice to be able to lose yourself for a split-second. To 'lose' oneself in the thought-encapsulated feeling of the miracle of life. The complexity of the organism - metabolic pathways, microstructures, macrostructures, mechanisms, feedback....if you can understand ALL of that (you can't) then just pause when it gets your head spinning - pause and see yourself as a tiny cog in this huge machine as your try to comprehend your role (you can't)...then you're simply forced to accept (you can't) to get on with whatever you were doing in the first place, thereby ending the instantaneous rambling daydream that took me hundreds of words to express. Don't take my word for it, but - you can.
Friday: Crucible Reunion
Saturday: Satisfy sushi craving
Sunday: OWW Reunion
Monday???
I keep bumping into people. Ms French, my Chemistry teacher from school; a play director; etc. The world's so small now I seem to have lost some of the awe and wonder at the splendour of scale...
I want out...out out out out out. To snuggle in a nice little cosy bed with a silky down-filled duvet. Switch on the hifi and listen to Bach, sip some tea and let yourself slide into an eternal sleep. Don't forget to leave the gas pipes on. That's the way to go.
It's depressing to work when you watch other people beavering away; it's even more annoying when the sun is shining outside and all you can worry about is the significance of measuring bone markers and their significance in osteoporosis. Why do people do this? I don't understand. It's mind-numbing. Life is so unfair. I sound like a whining spoiled brat. Smile and the world smiles with you...fart/belch - and you'll be ALL ALONE. Decided that I must go on a hell-raising bender this summer; the final long one of all time - sob (no, not 'shortness of breath'). It just doesn't bear thinking about.
What inspirational thing can my sordid little mind drag from the dregs of the subconscious pit of my emotions - yeah, the one that froths with lava-bubbles bursting over jets of acrolein-scented hog-juice...?
One thing. One very quiet, sublime little thought - take a moment to sit and think. Amidst all the trouble, worry and strife (believe me, there's a lot in the world out there - just try counting the number of people with ingrowing toenails) it's nice to be able to lose yourself for a split-second. To 'lose' oneself in the thought-encapsulated feeling of the miracle of life. The complexity of the organism - metabolic pathways, microstructures, macrostructures, mechanisms, feedback....if you can understand ALL of that (you can't) then just pause when it gets your head spinning - pause and see yourself as a tiny cog in this huge machine as your try to comprehend your role (you can't)...then you're simply forced to accept (you can't) to get on with whatever you were doing in the first place, thereby ending the instantaneous rambling daydream that took me hundreds of words to express. Don't take my word for it, but - you can.
Humorist?
http://encyclopedia.laborlawtalk.com/Four_humours
Kretchmer vs Galen, this season's bout. Check it out.
Dirge - yeah yeah yeah, c'mon baby, one more time, and again we're gonna tear the sky in two...I think I've gone mad. Brain-blank. Turbid, almost - although I'd rather not know why. Apathetic, almost.
Spring seems to have arrived; I shall hope for the best.
Not to be a killjoy, but enthusiasm doesn't really click with me at the moment; everything's cool - like the weather - not too cold but not quite lukewarm, either. I like drinking water.
Kretchmer vs Galen, this season's bout. Check it out.
Dirge - yeah yeah yeah, c'mon baby, one more time, and again we're gonna tear the sky in two...I think I've gone mad. Brain-blank. Turbid, almost - although I'd rather not know why. Apathetic, almost.
Spring seems to have arrived; I shall hope for the best.
Not to be a killjoy, but enthusiasm doesn't really click with me at the moment; everything's cool - like the weather - not too cold but not quite lukewarm, either. I like drinking water.
Monday, March 14, 2005
Eat to live, live to eat!
Great book - 'A Short History of Nearly Everything' by Bill Bryson - I'm rather desperate to read it; credit to James...something to do immediately after exams, I suppose.
I've been having intense food cravings this March.
Wednesday 2nd March: Biryani and curry. Hot. It's got some ethereal quality to it...when the first hint of spice nips the tip of your tongue.
Friday 4th March: Sushi and sashimi. Buffet-style; sheer quantity but probably quality-compromised; I purchased my own sauce to compensate for their lowly offering. Mmmmm......
Saturday 5th March: Tofu and roast duck; conveniently satiated by a friend's birthday dinner the following week.
Saturday 12th March: A salt beef sandwich for which I travelled all the way to Edgware (zone 5). Absolutely splendid - B&K salt beef bar. Wonderful. The potato latke was heavenly.
Sunday 13th March, evening-right now: Spaghetti bolognese. I used to think of myself as more of an aglio olio man, but this is one heck of a craving. Just about to cook myself some.
Had a terrific 'fusion style' (student standard) dinner last night - heated the remnants of some of my mother's delicious chicken curry; boiled some pasta, made a vegetable-onion-whatsit soup and experimented with a beaten egg poured into a whole (covered with the cut-off 'lid') green pepper - baked at 200 degrees in the oven...turned out rather nice.
So there you have it...the cycle of 'weekend cravings.'
I don't typically write about food, but then again - I'm Chinese and my 'cultural heritage' (whatever that happens to be) demands a heavy emphasis on what I shovel down my gullet...
I really need to get a life. This year has been rather tumultuous (in some respects). It's quite a balancing act, trying to peer into the future as you relegate the nasties of today to the dustbin of the past, especially when you're as much of a hoarder as I am. Then there are memories...
Peter Jackson might make 'The Hobbit' film eventually...I wonder what hapened to my insane obsession over the Lord of the Rings - I've been keeping the extended edition trilogy DVD for post-exam bliss...perhaps that'll reignite the passion I once felt so strongly. Especially when I re-read the Silmarillion...oh dear...I really do need to get a life. Actually - that's ridiculous - I am what I am - why should I bend to society's prevailing ideas of 'life'? I'm no hermit (well...) and if I can't be accepted for who I am, then I might as well go and have myself shot. Never - never ever ever - be afraid to be who you are. Don't be arrogant (i.e. humility is ideal) but just don't be afraid to be yourself. I'm not talking about method-acting; simply about honesty. More on that next time, if I'm not too absent minded and actually bother to remember!
I've been having intense food cravings this March.
Wednesday 2nd March: Biryani and curry. Hot. It's got some ethereal quality to it...when the first hint of spice nips the tip of your tongue.
Friday 4th March: Sushi and sashimi. Buffet-style; sheer quantity but probably quality-compromised; I purchased my own sauce to compensate for their lowly offering. Mmmmm......
Saturday 5th March: Tofu and roast duck; conveniently satiated by a friend's birthday dinner the following week.
Saturday 12th March: A salt beef sandwich for which I travelled all the way to Edgware (zone 5). Absolutely splendid - B&K salt beef bar. Wonderful. The potato latke was heavenly.
Sunday 13th March, evening-right now: Spaghetti bolognese. I used to think of myself as more of an aglio olio man, but this is one heck of a craving. Just about to cook myself some.
Had a terrific 'fusion style' (student standard) dinner last night - heated the remnants of some of my mother's delicious chicken curry; boiled some pasta, made a vegetable-onion-whatsit soup and experimented with a beaten egg poured into a whole (covered with the cut-off 'lid') green pepper - baked at 200 degrees in the oven...turned out rather nice.
So there you have it...the cycle of 'weekend cravings.'
I don't typically write about food, but then again - I'm Chinese and my 'cultural heritage' (whatever that happens to be) demands a heavy emphasis on what I shovel down my gullet...
I really need to get a life. This year has been rather tumultuous (in some respects). It's quite a balancing act, trying to peer into the future as you relegate the nasties of today to the dustbin of the past, especially when you're as much of a hoarder as I am. Then there are memories...
Peter Jackson might make 'The Hobbit' film eventually...I wonder what hapened to my insane obsession over the Lord of the Rings - I've been keeping the extended edition trilogy DVD for post-exam bliss...perhaps that'll reignite the passion I once felt so strongly. Especially when I re-read the Silmarillion...oh dear...I really do need to get a life. Actually - that's ridiculous - I am what I am - why should I bend to society's prevailing ideas of 'life'? I'm no hermit (well...) and if I can't be accepted for who I am, then I might as well go and have myself shot. Never - never ever ever - be afraid to be who you are. Don't be arrogant (i.e. humility is ideal) but just don't be afraid to be yourself. I'm not talking about method-acting; simply about honesty. More on that next time, if I'm not too absent minded and actually bother to remember!
Remember, remember.
It always strikes a chord with me when I remember the past. Chatted online for a while with a dear old friend of mine yesterday. Turns out we might meet in Paris for a rendezvous with some other old friends....these 'old friends'...ghosts of the past who just never say die...then I'm meant to meet up with some other (slightly less old) friends in London next Saturday.
I'm only 19 and yet talking to them about old times really makes me wonder what's happened to the years that have flown by so quickly. Especially when I remember how I never thought I'd think about the passage of time in such a sentimental way. All those 'missed chances' and severed links...I say - the joy passes, but the memories remain. Life isn't over yet, but it's awesome to see what's happened so far.
I'm only 19 and yet talking to them about old times really makes me wonder what's happened to the years that have flown by so quickly. Especially when I remember how I never thought I'd think about the passage of time in such a sentimental way. All those 'missed chances' and severed links...I say - the joy passes, but the memories remain. Life isn't over yet, but it's awesome to see what's happened so far.
Saturday, March 12, 2005
Paradox
How do you give up what you do not have? How do you possess what is not yours to possess? How do you say that which is not for you to say?
It seems odd that we should lose ourselves in seemingly trivial matters of the heart; it is a tragedy that we should think it so.
To lose once is painful; it numbs you to the core in a way that no other harm can prick you as painfully. One becomes desensitised, almost. Just something to think about - I suppose it highlights the necessity of pain and suffering, which by themselves we could easily do happily without! The two somehow mitigate their own existences by cancelling out each other's disadvantages in our flawed world. It's basic common sense and I can't believe I'm actually writing this as though it's a special revelation to me - being knifed will cause pain and suffering - that pain will prevent you from future harm (unless you have anterograde amnesia) by avoiding dangerous situations in future. Simple adaptation.
Revision is painful. So is printing innumerable slides. Anatomy. Endocrinology. Embryology. Pharmacology. Toxicology. Neurology/Neuroanatomy. Oncology. Haematology. Cellular Biology. Rheumatology. Orthopaedics. Obstetrics and Gynaecology. Basic paediatrics. Epidemiology. Public Health. The list is nearly endless. A great advertisement for prospective medical students. Time to shut up and get back to it. After all, it's the means to an end - to (supposedly/hopefully) 'heal.' Oh, I'm such a naively conceited and cynically self-inflated 'idealist' that I scorn my own self-derision. Stupidity is a threshold I'd like not to cross, but if needs be I'll borrow a few candles from there to light the way for others...
Contemplative silence - to lose oneself in an ethereal mix of confusion and delusion.
What of perfection? To grasp that which we cannot obtain is a mere reflection of our own imperfection. Ouch. That really stings. Especially when we reach for the less-than-perfect and can't even hold it for a mere second without getting our own even-more-less-than-less-than-perfect burned and scarred. Oh woe, woe, woe. Whoa - woe.
It seems odd that we should lose ourselves in seemingly trivial matters of the heart; it is a tragedy that we should think it so.
To lose once is painful; it numbs you to the core in a way that no other harm can prick you as painfully. One becomes desensitised, almost. Just something to think about - I suppose it highlights the necessity of pain and suffering, which by themselves we could easily do happily without! The two somehow mitigate their own existences by cancelling out each other's disadvantages in our flawed world. It's basic common sense and I can't believe I'm actually writing this as though it's a special revelation to me - being knifed will cause pain and suffering - that pain will prevent you from future harm (unless you have anterograde amnesia) by avoiding dangerous situations in future. Simple adaptation.
Revision is painful. So is printing innumerable slides. Anatomy. Endocrinology. Embryology. Pharmacology. Toxicology. Neurology/Neuroanatomy. Oncology. Haematology. Cellular Biology. Rheumatology. Orthopaedics. Obstetrics and Gynaecology. Basic paediatrics. Epidemiology. Public Health. The list is nearly endless. A great advertisement for prospective medical students. Time to shut up and get back to it. After all, it's the means to an end - to (supposedly/hopefully) 'heal.' Oh, I'm such a naively conceited and cynically self-inflated 'idealist' that I scorn my own self-derision. Stupidity is a threshold I'd like not to cross, but if needs be I'll borrow a few candles from there to light the way for others...
Contemplative silence - to lose oneself in an ethereal mix of confusion and delusion.
What of perfection? To grasp that which we cannot obtain is a mere reflection of our own imperfection. Ouch. That really stings. Especially when we reach for the less-than-perfect and can't even hold it for a mere second without getting our own even-more-less-than-less-than-perfect burned and scarred. Oh woe, woe, woe. Whoa - woe.
Thursday, March 10, 2005
Crunch Time
Some interesting comments have recently been posted to my blog (yesterday).
'Compos mentis' = of sound mind. A latin term used commonly in legal jargon.
No, I am not a 'gangsta.' I am a second year medical student who pretends to have a life and friends. Not that that's not entirely untrue...but of course you'd have to misunderstand me completely to prove otherwise...if you get my drift. I am also a (happy) single 19-year-old Chinese male with a younger brother; I live in London; I am a Christian (raised Methodist), I hold a Malaysian passport, I was born in Singapore, I like ice-cream, I dislike London Underground and I hope to be a surgeon one day.
As for comments about Millie's cookies and KFC bargain buckets - I don't really enjoy very greasy food, although cookies are truly delicious. Especially the chocolate chip variety. I once went to their outlet at Hammersmith Broadway and begged the man at closing time to sell me one - he passed me a smarties-studded cookie impaled on a wooden stick for free under the half-closed shutters. Lovely - but nothing to compare with the absolutely wonderful blueberry muffins they do....
There were also some comments about growing a 'bushy' moustache - I do not have, nor do I currently intend to grow one. I do not have much of a facial hair growth and that fact does not bother me very much - it saves on the effort of shaving.
I went for a jog with Hugh today. It lasted approximately 45 minutes, taking a circuitous route from our house, across Hammersmith bridge and back over Putney bridge. Fresh air and good exercise although I found it terribly heavy going. I don't really enjoy running, you see. Never been any good at it - made painfully
aware of that fact by my aching leg muscles. At least it justifies having extra ice-cream.
Such a mundane post - nothing much to hold a decent self-conversation on. Apologies. Until tomorrow, then.
'Compos mentis' = of sound mind. A latin term used commonly in legal jargon.
No, I am not a 'gangsta.' I am a second year medical student who pretends to have a life and friends. Not that that's not entirely untrue...but of course you'd have to misunderstand me completely to prove otherwise...if you get my drift. I am also a (happy) single 19-year-old Chinese male with a younger brother; I live in London; I am a Christian (raised Methodist), I hold a Malaysian passport, I was born in Singapore, I like ice-cream, I dislike London Underground and I hope to be a surgeon one day.
As for comments about Millie's cookies and KFC bargain buckets - I don't really enjoy very greasy food, although cookies are truly delicious. Especially the chocolate chip variety. I once went to their outlet at Hammersmith Broadway and begged the man at closing time to sell me one - he passed me a smarties-studded cookie impaled on a wooden stick for free under the half-closed shutters. Lovely - but nothing to compare with the absolutely wonderful blueberry muffins they do....
There were also some comments about growing a 'bushy' moustache - I do not have, nor do I currently intend to grow one. I do not have much of a facial hair growth and that fact does not bother me very much - it saves on the effort of shaving.
I went for a jog with Hugh today. It lasted approximately 45 minutes, taking a circuitous route from our house, across Hammersmith bridge and back over Putney bridge. Fresh air and good exercise although I found it terribly heavy going. I don't really enjoy running, you see. Never been any good at it - made painfully
aware of that fact by my aching leg muscles. At least it justifies having extra ice-cream.
Such a mundane post - nothing much to hold a decent self-conversation on. Apologies. Until tomorrow, then.
"Jason"
Found this online. It's truly freaking me out. Whoever wrote this has some crazy insights! Happy to know, though...even if some parts are a little inaccurate, it's very interesting to read. Pinch of salt - just like a horoscope, eh?
"JASON m English, Greek Mythology (Latinized), Biblical
Pronounced: JAY-sun
From the Greek name Iason, which was derived from Greek iasthai "to heal". Jason was the leader of the Argonauts in Greek legend. He went in search of the Golden Fleece in order to win back his kingdom from his uncle Pelias. During his journeys he married the sorceress Medea, who helped him gain the fleece and kill his uncle, but who later turned against him when he fell in love with another woman. This name is also used in Acts in the New Testament to translate the Hebrew name Joshua.
The name of Jason has given you sensitivity and appreciation for the finer and deeper things in life. You can enjoy reading, study, and contemplation about many different subjects. When your interests or curiosity are aroused, you work intensely at new undertakings, but your interests often wane when you encounter drudgery and monotony, with the result that you leave many things unfinished. Your name has taken you into many bitter experiences. The greatest lack in your life is stability and peace of mind. A peaceful and quiet environment, especially out in nature, is one of your greatest desires, but you are constantly taken into chaotic conditions. Because you have high ideals and are a principled person, you have been disillusioned and disappointed in people on many occasions and have experienced much aloneness. You are fond of outdoor sports, where you can find an outlet for your nervous energy. Impulsiveness could bring frequent accidents and unfortunate happenings into your life. You do not like to be restricted or to have your freedom curtailed in any way. You find it difficult to control your thoughts and could swing in moods from one extreme to the other. Your speech can become very critical and sarcastic when you are frustrated or crossed. This name creates a weakness in the heart, lungs, and bronchial organs, and could cause heart trouble, pneumonia, asthma, or tuberculosis. It also creates tension in the nervous system, particularly the solar plexus and stomach, causing nervous indigestion and relative conditions."
My parents must have had quite some foresight if they chose Jason ('healer') deliberately...then again...I'm not a doctor yet - and it'll be quite some time before I actually start healing people!
"JASON m English, Greek Mythology (Latinized), Biblical
Pronounced: JAY-sun
From the Greek name Iason, which was derived from Greek iasthai "to heal". Jason was the leader of the Argonauts in Greek legend. He went in search of the Golden Fleece in order to win back his kingdom from his uncle Pelias. During his journeys he married the sorceress Medea, who helped him gain the fleece and kill his uncle, but who later turned against him when he fell in love with another woman. This name is also used in Acts in the New Testament to translate the Hebrew name Joshua.
The name of Jason has given you sensitivity and appreciation for the finer and deeper things in life. You can enjoy reading, study, and contemplation about many different subjects. When your interests or curiosity are aroused, you work intensely at new undertakings, but your interests often wane when you encounter drudgery and monotony, with the result that you leave many things unfinished. Your name has taken you into many bitter experiences. The greatest lack in your life is stability and peace of mind. A peaceful and quiet environment, especially out in nature, is one of your greatest desires, but you are constantly taken into chaotic conditions. Because you have high ideals and are a principled person, you have been disillusioned and disappointed in people on many occasions and have experienced much aloneness. You are fond of outdoor sports, where you can find an outlet for your nervous energy. Impulsiveness could bring frequent accidents and unfortunate happenings into your life. You do not like to be restricted or to have your freedom curtailed in any way. You find it difficult to control your thoughts and could swing in moods from one extreme to the other. Your speech can become very critical and sarcastic when you are frustrated or crossed. This name creates a weakness in the heart, lungs, and bronchial organs, and could cause heart trouble, pneumonia, asthma, or tuberculosis. It also creates tension in the nervous system, particularly the solar plexus and stomach, causing nervous indigestion and relative conditions."
My parents must have had quite some foresight if they chose Jason ('healer') deliberately...then again...I'm not a doctor yet - and it'll be quite some time before I actually start healing people!
Do Comment
Comments are available to all once again. I miss reading random feedback. It's nice to have a few comments floating around every now and then. Comment liberalisation - it's about time. Free for all (no need to register etc). I'm obviously backing down.....happy though!
I'm craving pasta. Nice pasta. A white wine sauce and some seafood. Preceded by a side order/starter of Carpaccio and possibly a couple of salmon nigiri. Then I'd like to top that off with a lovely bowl of gula melaka. Mmmmmm......deliciousssssss.........
Sleep will one day be a rare commodity; we shall trade it on 'sleep exchanges' and study it at postgraduate level. Just watch.
I'm craving pasta. Nice pasta. A white wine sauce and some seafood. Preceded by a side order/starter of Carpaccio and possibly a couple of salmon nigiri. Then I'd like to top that off with a lovely bowl of gula melaka. Mmmmmm......deliciousssssss.........
Sleep will one day be a rare commodity; we shall trade it on 'sleep exchanges' and study it at postgraduate level. Just watch.
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
A time to laugh, a time to cry
I'm glad that I'm still happy. I made a conscious decision yesterday on the spur of the moment to be a happier person and it's really paying off. Tomorrow will be another happy day - whether it is happier than today or less so (objectively speaking) matters not - either way I can be happily thankful for whichever day happened to be better; if tomorrow is better then that's just splendid! - otherwise it just means that the following day will bring more to look forward to, with more to remember about the previous happier day! Wonderful optimism! I love being happy! I hope everybody lives a long, happy and abundantly joyful life - be happy with what you have, strive to gain more and just be HAPPY! Thank the Lord for your blessings; if you can count at least one - you have more reason than not to be over the moon with happiness! The book of Ecclesiastes is a treatise that could drive a suicidal person to despair (OK, I think you ought to read it someday), but its conclusion can be interpreted in the spotlight of optimism. Wonderful happiness, O happy joy!
Skin cancer lecture today. Followed by Reproductive Immunology, which made me very happy - I learned a fair amount. It's nice to learn.
Of course, sadness enters our lives - patients, for example require a degree of empathy - it is not our duty to discharge secretions of empathy; rather, we ought to consider a privilege that we can offer our support, both in our technical proficiency and our empathy as a pillar to lean on in times of need.
Skin cancer lecture today. Followed by Reproductive Immunology, which made me very happy - I learned a fair amount. It's nice to learn.
Of course, sadness enters our lives - patients, for example require a degree of empathy - it is not our duty to discharge secretions of empathy; rather, we ought to consider a privilege that we can offer our support, both in our technical proficiency and our empathy as a pillar to lean on in times of need.
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
Gaudete!
If you're happy and you know it clap your hands! I'm so happy I could burst from the sheer joy. For no apparent reason I seem to have 'clicked' - read a BBC article about how happiness and laughter prolong life. I like life. I have therefore chosen to make a life-altering decision - to be HAPPY! Life, liberty and happiness to all!
I just can't wait for tomorrow. Happy people used to annoy the living daylights out of me but now I've joined their serried ranks - I understand how it can be so frustrating to a denizen of the dark; yet truly, it is a wonder to be so happy. I'm fighting back tears of sheer joy! So wonderfully happy, for no apparent reason.
On other fronts - quiz this evening was very interesting, especially with people yelling at the Chelsea-Barcelona match projected behind us.....cogito ergo sum - attributed to whom? French nobleman and wave-particle duality? Melatonin secreting gland? Famous last words 'either I go, or the wallpaper goes' attributed to which famous person? Learned a fair amount!
I wish the administrative bugs at the Undergraduate Medical Office (henceforth derisively - but happily!) referred to as the UMO - would hurry up and post those crucial slides online. My happiness demands them!
It's like discovering one's true, inner, child-like self. I've gone back to a happier time, when one performs a task/learns for the sake of the sheer happiness that doing it entails/involves/gives! Happiness in everything! Of course, suffering is quite necessary to maintain a sense of decorum and adversity is the stimulus to achievement, but a pinch of happiness whilst passing through that swamp of adversity would make the going a lot neater. Carry the burden with a smile so the slave-drivers don't get any satisfaction; find some solace in the happiness you derive from going about your daily existence so you can say to yourself - I have done my best, I tried, I conquered - with a glimmer of hope and happiness that will bring tomorrow's happy morning closer to your sense of joy and peace.
I just can't wait for tomorrow. Happy people used to annoy the living daylights out of me but now I've joined their serried ranks - I understand how it can be so frustrating to a denizen of the dark; yet truly, it is a wonder to be so happy. I'm fighting back tears of sheer joy! So wonderfully happy, for no apparent reason.
On other fronts - quiz this evening was very interesting, especially with people yelling at the Chelsea-Barcelona match projected behind us.....cogito ergo sum - attributed to whom? French nobleman and wave-particle duality? Melatonin secreting gland? Famous last words 'either I go, or the wallpaper goes' attributed to which famous person? Learned a fair amount!
I wish the administrative bugs at the Undergraduate Medical Office (henceforth derisively - but happily!) referred to as the UMO - would hurry up and post those crucial slides online. My happiness demands them!
It's like discovering one's true, inner, child-like self. I've gone back to a happier time, when one performs a task/learns for the sake of the sheer happiness that doing it entails/involves/gives! Happiness in everything! Of course, suffering is quite necessary to maintain a sense of decorum and adversity is the stimulus to achievement, but a pinch of happiness whilst passing through that swamp of adversity would make the going a lot neater. Carry the burden with a smile so the slave-drivers don't get any satisfaction; find some solace in the happiness you derive from going about your daily existence so you can say to yourself - I have done my best, I tried, I conquered - with a glimmer of hope and happiness that will bring tomorrow's happy morning closer to your sense of joy and peace.
Monday, March 07, 2005
Letting go of the precioussss
In the Lord of the Rings, Frodo is tasked with the burden of disposing the One Ring in the fiery dustbin of the volcano Orodruin (Mount Doom). He nearly succeeds, but in his moment of near-failure (the temptation of the ring has grown too great) Gollum appears as the unlikely saviour of Middle-Earth's fortunes. A twist, perhaps - it just goes to show how the unexpected happens in daily life - something you do (or don't do, for that matter) can come up and bite you in the hiney several years later...for good or bad...what goes around, generally, comes around. A rather blase way to look at horrid situations, but I suppose it's a way around them.
I managed to get the heater working again....awful pilot light keeps getting blown out by drafts and cold weather. Alas, that bright spark in our lives seems to be extinguished just as often....
Tomorrow is a new day; birds will sing in the frost before dying from hypothermia, the sun will scorn the earth leaving icy roads to treacherously befoul unwary pedestrians and cold winds will blow. Indeed, tomorrow shall come. The start of a new week that promises to creep ever closer to the abysmal horror of examination hell.
What does one have to look forward to? Meaningless, meaningless! All life is meaningless! We may toil and labour but we only prolong the inevitable scythe that (oddly enough) shall relieve us of our wearisome burdens. Nothing matters; everything is passing; purpose is ill-defined. We lose what we love, we gain naught but troubles and the fleeting thoughts of what might have been. So much for my earlier attempts at openness and optimism.
I may presume that I am one hundred million times luckier than so many other people - what loss have I experienced compared to the hunger, famine, death and suffering of billions? All I do is complain. Perhaps I may (although I know I may not) be excused for crying out in desperation at the loss of the perfection I so keenly desired.
A young boy once thought that if he always tried his best (except when forced to do chin-ups - which he has tried to correct ever since!) at home, with friends and in school, said his prayers, tried to be as nice as he could, chastised himself when mistakes were pointed out, tried to like animals (despite a mortal fear of bites and scratches), tried to be polite and - basically - TRIED his best and tried to try harder when that best wasn't quite enough - that young boy thought that the world, despite being a big mean tough place would be less harsh when clobbering him like it does to everyone else. That young boy seems to have been blessed indeed - he at least has blessings to count. His problem is that nothing is ever enough (expectations delude). His other problem is that nothing really lived up to what he hoped for; disappointment brought with it regret and the young boy learned that it doesn't matter how hard you try; you will be hurt anyway. So the young boy lost some faith and some hope and some trust in his cherished ideals and beliefs; it nearly tore him in two as he tried to find his way in the world, attempting to keep one hand clinging firmly to those aspirations nurtured in bygone days of a happy childhood whilst the loss of innocence ate away at the heart of treasure he once loved. It is a ransom - one that has been paid sorrowfully at a high price. I hope that young boy does not one day wake up to find himself an old man whose hoard of principles has been squandered in vain attempts chasing after unreachable goals.
So - with all this pessimistic claptrap - why do we plod onwards? Duty? Desire? Destiny? Devotion? Dedication? All of the above. To what cause? For a reason that is higher than what we can possibly imagine; for the near-impossible hope and belief that hope itself can bring with it a tomorrow that might one day be immeasurably better than the dregs of today. Loss and suffering may prick our sides until we bleed and weep but by never surrendering we have already won the greatest victory of all - our lives are in God's hands and it is for us to obey. Per aspera ad astra!
I managed to get the heater working again....awful pilot light keeps getting blown out by drafts and cold weather. Alas, that bright spark in our lives seems to be extinguished just as often....
Tomorrow is a new day; birds will sing in the frost before dying from hypothermia, the sun will scorn the earth leaving icy roads to treacherously befoul unwary pedestrians and cold winds will blow. Indeed, tomorrow shall come. The start of a new week that promises to creep ever closer to the abysmal horror of examination hell.
What does one have to look forward to? Meaningless, meaningless! All life is meaningless! We may toil and labour but we only prolong the inevitable scythe that (oddly enough) shall relieve us of our wearisome burdens. Nothing matters; everything is passing; purpose is ill-defined. We lose what we love, we gain naught but troubles and the fleeting thoughts of what might have been. So much for my earlier attempts at openness and optimism.
I may presume that I am one hundred million times luckier than so many other people - what loss have I experienced compared to the hunger, famine, death and suffering of billions? All I do is complain. Perhaps I may (although I know I may not) be excused for crying out in desperation at the loss of the perfection I so keenly desired.
A young boy once thought that if he always tried his best (except when forced to do chin-ups - which he has tried to correct ever since!) at home, with friends and in school, said his prayers, tried to be as nice as he could, chastised himself when mistakes were pointed out, tried to like animals (despite a mortal fear of bites and scratches), tried to be polite and - basically - TRIED his best and tried to try harder when that best wasn't quite enough - that young boy thought that the world, despite being a big mean tough place would be less harsh when clobbering him like it does to everyone else. That young boy seems to have been blessed indeed - he at least has blessings to count. His problem is that nothing is ever enough (expectations delude). His other problem is that nothing really lived up to what he hoped for; disappointment brought with it regret and the young boy learned that it doesn't matter how hard you try; you will be hurt anyway. So the young boy lost some faith and some hope and some trust in his cherished ideals and beliefs; it nearly tore him in two as he tried to find his way in the world, attempting to keep one hand clinging firmly to those aspirations nurtured in bygone days of a happy childhood whilst the loss of innocence ate away at the heart of treasure he once loved. It is a ransom - one that has been paid sorrowfully at a high price. I hope that young boy does not one day wake up to find himself an old man whose hoard of principles has been squandered in vain attempts chasing after unreachable goals.
So - with all this pessimistic claptrap - why do we plod onwards? Duty? Desire? Destiny? Devotion? Dedication? All of the above. To what cause? For a reason that is higher than what we can possibly imagine; for the near-impossible hope and belief that hope itself can bring with it a tomorrow that might one day be immeasurably better than the dregs of today. Loss and suffering may prick our sides until we bleed and weep but by never surrendering we have already won the greatest victory of all - our lives are in God's hands and it is for us to obey. Per aspera ad astra!
Saturday, March 05, 2005
Cerebral Atrophy, Trying Repeatedly, Infinite Oblation, Never Attained!
I am a spineless shell of a human - I have gone back on my word not to write again - I relent. I relent. Those few, meagre hits each day, pining for a post from this pipsqueak of a human....argh....
The Crucible is over! I garnered the award for 'best accent' and a nice white rose....Francis Nurse is a glad and happy old man.....what with all that lovely white dye in my hair and the painted wrinkles (painted, you say?!). I nearly went to a club tonight. I'm such a cheap, lazy sod.
A whole week of performances and late nights...four hours of sleep is certainly not my thing every night. Especially when the work burden seems to have been tripling and you have to tread even harder just to keep your head above the ever rising stream. We float - but the weights tied to our ankles are heavy indeed!
Today's topic, my lovelies - today's topic, is LOVE. Yes, LOVE.
Now I sound bullish.
Oh yes - before I forget - Martha Stewart is out of jail.
Back to the topic. Is it unconditional? Yes. What should one do if it is unrequited? Cry. Cry. Cry. Then move on. What if 'tis not possible? Or perhaps (rather neurotically) one hopes one is misreading those (hopefully!) imagined 'I'm ignoring you' signals? Or if one merely clings to the barren hope of the crestfallen pigeon whose advances are spurned by that feathery specimen he pursues with such ardent admiration and yet this coy shyness turns his frail plumage to a scattering of fluffy down? Then it would be time for some sashimi/sushi after a nice relaxing swim preceded by a long hard revision session following a well-rested night which is just about to tail a calming session of computer gaming interspersed with bouts of revision of the adenoma-carcinoma sequence (whilst contemplating whether to attend a choir rehearsal tomorrow). As for love - it shall have to wait another day. It is ever-present, but a state of perfection unto which we can only ascribe our most glorious aspirations - unfortunately, these seldom materialise. Why couldn't it be so much simpler? I suppose being a mad-crazy-obsessive-compulsive-I'd-do-anything stalker isn't much of a plus point either. If only there were more women like that around...
The Crucible is over! I garnered the award for 'best accent' and a nice white rose....Francis Nurse is a glad and happy old man.....what with all that lovely white dye in my hair and the painted wrinkles (painted, you say?!). I nearly went to a club tonight. I'm such a cheap, lazy sod.
A whole week of performances and late nights...four hours of sleep is certainly not my thing every night. Especially when the work burden seems to have been tripling and you have to tread even harder just to keep your head above the ever rising stream. We float - but the weights tied to our ankles are heavy indeed!
Today's topic, my lovelies - today's topic, is LOVE. Yes, LOVE.
Now I sound bullish.
Oh yes - before I forget - Martha Stewart is out of jail.
Back to the topic. Is it unconditional? Yes. What should one do if it is unrequited? Cry. Cry. Cry. Then move on. What if 'tis not possible? Or perhaps (rather neurotically) one hopes one is misreading those (hopefully!) imagined 'I'm ignoring you' signals? Or if one merely clings to the barren hope of the crestfallen pigeon whose advances are spurned by that feathery specimen he pursues with such ardent admiration and yet this coy shyness turns his frail plumage to a scattering of fluffy down? Then it would be time for some sashimi/sushi after a nice relaxing swim preceded by a long hard revision session following a well-rested night which is just about to tail a calming session of computer gaming interspersed with bouts of revision of the adenoma-carcinoma sequence (whilst contemplating whether to attend a choir rehearsal tomorrow). As for love - it shall have to wait another day. It is ever-present, but a state of perfection unto which we can only ascribe our most glorious aspirations - unfortunately, these seldom materialise. Why couldn't it be so much simpler? I suppose being a mad-crazy-obsessive-compulsive-I'd-do-anything stalker isn't much of a plus point either. If only there were more women like that around...
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