24 hours

There are too few hours in a day.
Do excuse the disjointed nature of this piece. It is not an essay.
I've bought (£897) my flight home. Yet another 17000 air-miles accrued to the mileage bank. I ordered the kosher meal from London to Singapore and the halal meal from Singapore to London. On board I shall ask to switch to the pork selection. That should flummox those immaculately-dressed, daintily-clad, sarong-kebaya-wearing Singapore Airlines air-drones. Hahahaha.....but to be fair, they're really nice to me. It's the bureaucracy I can't stand.....
I've just realised something. I don't need to feel guilty. Not anymore. I don't need mcuh of a social conscience - one can be rather evil and there isn't much of a payback.....
Made sandwiches for the homeless last Friday. Oooh.....don't I sound like such a hypocrite, just after the previous paragraph. Still, it felt good and the scrapings of leftover cheddar were certainly quite tasty.
My cousin Eve(lyn) visits next week. I hike in Kent this Sunday. Neuroscience is still no better but hopefully Haematology will hold itself together until Friday. My first firm beckons next Tuesday, under the stern supervision of Professor Allen-Mersh at the Chelsea & Westminster Hospital. Gastrointestinal surgery it is, then. Hurrah!
I had dreams of making creamy Pulot Hitam with coconut milk, but that shall have to await my return to Singapore. I'm thinking of joining the canoe club next Tuesday - just found out about them - I'm absolutely thrilled and rather excited at the prospect of skidding down rapids some time soon....
Learned a new swimming technique last night with Hugh. Interesting. I didn't drink too much pool water/toddler pee.
Bought four more posters today at half-price. Rather pleased with myself.

Now for something poetic. Oliver has been writing a doggerel of haiku verse, so I shan't try to compete with his magnificent efforts.
I can only manage two lines, after that little Corax/Columba dichotomous verse thing (posted below, Thu Nov 11).
Actually, never mind. I'll post it next time.

Resurrection! It lives! It lives!

This emotional rollercoaster has finally come to an end. Nothing short of that little concept of 'mirabilis' has occurred. Those of you who have been so unsupportive with your head-nodding, umm-ing and ahh-ing, words of 'advice'.....you've all been proved wrong by one tiny little thing. The mushy side of me (see below: 'Softy') would call it 'hope' but I know better.....it's the indomitable never-say-die, at-all-costs, stick-with-it (I'm fond of triple-word-jigs) spirit of PERSEVERANCE. Just wait and ride out the storm.....
Mr U.S.B. Drive was found (missing only his cap) in the dark recesses of my tan chinos at 1915hrs, 15/11/2004. Having been drowned in the spinning vortex of a washing machine and hung out to dry the previous weekend, he miraculously survived intact, with all his data preserved! He has now been reunited with his cap and shall be gradually nursed back to health. We salute you, Mr Drive. A true hero and a sterling example to us all.

Softy

I feel very 'soft' right now. Perhaps it's my new fleece hoodie, or the abrading cold weather rubbing down my hardened exterior shell.
I can't quite describe the feeling.
Anyway, my sanity is also being eroded by the sheer madness of trying to book a flight home to Singapore. Mainly to get the airmiles so that the next time I board they'll bow so low the plane will tip...
Anyway, it's frustrating and there is no way on the net to pay less than £1000. Time for some hard buying...those airliners need to learn not to get me peeved.
I suddenly don't feel so soft anymore...

Motivate me!

Shades of Grey

Corax by night, Columba by day,
Black as the darkness, white glimmers bright.
Unkindness of strangers and piteousness of friends,
Ill-tidings dusk brings until peace sheds a light.

JH

RIP USB

20/08/2002 - 03/11/2004

It's traumatic to lose something so close to your heart, a dear and loyal friend whose sterling service for such a long time shall shine as an example to others for years to come. Utterly irreplaceable. A friend to the end and a true companion.
RIP, USB, you shall be sorely missed.

Hurrah.

I have often wondered whether it's all worth it. Whether one merely goes through the motions of another day, hoping that one day the endless cycle will break under the strain of hurtling towards its own profound eternal destiny of never being able to end. Absolute nonsense, I know, but it makes a pathetically twisted kind of sense once you've been at it long enough. Like a hamster running endlessly on its treadmill until its final ounce of life is spent.

On a more cheerful note - I now live in a flat with a friend (who shall remain anonymous for his own protection), for those who care to know. We do not have a telephone land-line and no internet connection is provided. The flat lacks a microwave and the gas stove sparker and hood fan do not work.

Having finished 'I was Dr Mengele's Assistant' and '5 people you meet in heaven,' I'm currently bragging online about attempting to read five books at once. It's failing miserably, but is fun nonetheless.
1) L. Da Vinci's 'Prophecies'
2) Molecules of death
3) Che Guevara's 'The Motorcycle Diaries'
4) A purpose-driven-life
5) Matters of Life and Death

Fatigue

Stalactites and stalagmites form gradually over time, with each drop of water bringing yet another dissolved microgram of calcified material that shall some day build a mighty pillar of rock, hanging dagger-like over the tourists who dare to behold its timeless wonder.
Doctors are made, not born. With each passing lecture, tutorial, seminar, practical, dissection one is imbued with that immortal spirit that shapes our final destiny. Yet each day brings a new trial, the temptation to give up and slide off the high and narrow tracks, down the embankment onto a pleasant patch of grass to take a nap - to rest - to slumber - for a while.
Life is tiring, work is hard, the fruits of effort yield the seeds of tomorrow's results. Onwards. To the horizon.

Jubilation, exultation - happy for a while.

Today is October 22nd, AD 2004. Life is a strange thing - one has to seize a moment and cherish it, all the while knowing that time is flying past and that moment that once seemed so solid will soon be but a fleeting memory.

JH

Hitchhike 3 !!!!

Dear All,

Reporting from Berlin...I have been informed that my previous posts make me out to sound like a poncy obnoxious overweeningly arrogantly up-myself git......apologies a thousandfold...pls email me.....I'm not infectious.....

Hope you are wonderfully well.

After a day of sightseeing (trying to) Hamburg and tasting the fare on offer at the Schweinske (pig-themed) restaurant, the road has taken us to Berlin. German keyboards are difficult to use...ÜÖÄ€§ßßß....why couldn't they just have an ümlaut key?
It is sometimes difficult searching for youth hostels to overnight in.
Hopefully Berlin will give us plenty to see/do...
We've met a couple of Czech hitchhikers....been recommended to see Auschwitz and some sights in Slovenia etc.....will try....for now, Berlin has plenty to offer.

All the best,

Jason

Hitchhike 2 !!!!

Dear All,

Hope you're all well....
Hurrah for us....

2100 hrs, Friday 18th September, 2004.

Hitched from Amsterdam to Munster (Germany) and thence to Hamburg...am using the internet at the Le Meridien, wherein I am NOT currently residing...our real abode is a motel nearby...
Will be sampling German food tomorrow...eventually intend to reach Berlin, Poland and further (?)...
Adventure beckons, indeed...some very very very kind people have given us lifts AND lunch...lovely Germans...plenty to see/do. Have had some rather interesting conversations.

Visas are not a problem, this being the Schengen visa area.

The audio recordings of the trip are progressing neatly as planned - I feel game for a full multimedia spiel (with book, etc.) eventually. Che & Alberto Granado....motorcycle diaries, anyone? (Presumptuous, I know, but then again....).

That's all for now...

Cheerio,

Jason

Hitchhike 1 !!!!

Hello all....

For those of you that don't know - I'm on holiday hitchhiking with Oliver...will be posting to my blog when possible... http://arrhythmia.blogspot.com/ - Read it!!!!!!

I'm in Utrecht (Holland) right now (got there (1 timezone, three countries) in 2 days!). almost 10am here. One time zone ahead of London.

You may wish to browse through an atlas as you read this.

Tuesday: left London (Mottingham suburb) 9am. --> stuck on road half an hour --> Maidstone suburb --> Canterbury --> offered ride to Dover (arrived noon-ish). No luck with ferry, so bought tickets for delayed 3 o'clock trip (choppy seas forced delay by 3 hrs). Arrived 6-ish Calais. Stuck near motorway 45 mins, got weird ride (crazy, crazy, crazy woman) to Calais centre ... took us to hotel/hostel.
Wednesday: left Calais...stuck near motorway, finally get ride to Lille - given lunch by the driver - his brother is a doctor (GP) who spoke ultra rapid french. They then gave us lift through the city (with a quick tour!) to service station on suburbs of Lille....trying to get somewhere in Belgium...no luck until some Dutch guy gave us a lift all the way to Utrecht, Holland, thereby passing right through Belgium entirely! Found lodgings and watched a movie here. Will tour city in a while.

Oliver decided to write a short children's book (650 words) one afternoon last week and sent it as a bit of fun to a bunch of agents, one of whom replied expressing interest!

So far ... have encountered (as drivers) a female trainee priest, a Nigerian mature student, a bus driver (who has invented the TARGETMASTER - on sale now for 160 pounds... http://www.targetmaster.co.uk/ ) and hopefully many more.....

Am keeping a travel journal....

For reading material: Core Anatomy - Head & Neck....yes, it's good for putting oneself to bed quickly and effectively....
Will try to get to Amsterdam or cross into Germany, Poland, Eastern Europe....Russia?!
Good progress so far......btw - no moustache - I have a shaver with me.....hahaha.

Cheers all,

Jason

Home-style sashimi

1. Dead fish, sliced - $5.50 for 190g
2. Japanese rice, cooked with sushi vinegar - $5.00 per packet
3. Soy sauce - $1.00 a bottle
4. Seaweed - $2.00 a packet

Taste - priceless.

Tempus fugit

The driver sped away from the gates as the heat died with the afternoon sun. Dark clouds gathered over the craggy limestone peaks ahead as the motorway snaked between rows of plantation palms. A strange ray pierced through as thunder rolled with the onslaught of a summer storm.

An hour before, the scene that followed us to the airport raged in my mind, fired my heart and battled my senses. After dozens of telephone calls and an endlessly postponed wait I knew. I finally knew. I knew - at last.

We waved silently to the five figures standing on the porch, fading into the distance. I held my moment of quiet, a solemn whisper of relief barely breaking the calm around me.

I write not for the present, but for posterity. I live not for the here and now, but for the future. I gaze not into the future, but into the vast expanse of eternity, so that the accomplishments and disappointments of today mellow with the thread of time that weaves a full and blessed life.

A Longkong is a cross between a Duku and a Langsat...

It is hot. The tropical sun beats down relentlessly as I scuttle for shelter beneath a mango tree. The humidity weighs heavily on my shoulders and the grass crumples under the weight of palm leaves falling. A stone church lies empty as the crowds depart for lunch, clearing the town's jungle-bordered suburbs of all but the faintest echoes of afternoon laziness. No grass is being mowed now; it's just too hot and dogs are barking. Mad dogs. Mad dogs and Englishmen. I suppose the Englishmen left in the dull coolness of the last pink sunset, quite some time ago. The ball of fire that burns shadows onto whitewhashed walls roars o'er a sky as blue as pastel paint, splashed with dots of acrylic white.
The whirring of a dozen fans sweep the cool of air-conditioned rooms but only the shadow of a passing cloud brings a brief respite to this equatorial hothouse. Food is served and the chopsticks are ready; chattering mouths open for slurping noodles. Stately palms sway. I sit securely in the shade, gazing at the sun-soaked patio. Peace. For now. Peace until tomorrow when the sun rises again.

Credo

Life is many things to different people. To some it is the string of events that fall in sequence to make up our existence. Some cling to it daily, fearing its end; others seek thrills and adventure. A few spend some of it trying vainly to ponder its meaning, realising too late that the wherewithal from which we drain away each passing minute depends merely on our own insecurities which fuel that strange desire to place a reasonable price on our existence.

I shall not trouble myself to conjure up support clauses for the vague predications made above, depending solely on my arrogant self-belief in the knowledge that any argument over whether I am right or not should merely serve to confirm my basic premise in (more-or-less) its entirety, given that the given is taken as given. Sick, wrong and true - an odd combination for a conclusion, but a conclusion nonetheless.

My line is different. I hold quite dearly to a truth that, betwixt its mellifluously and seemingly non-sensical phrases, seems to rationalise most of my behaviour:

"Know you are mortal; Believe that you are not."
(C) JH, MMIV

NB Knowing = understanding, 'Believing' is used in a more superficial sense.

Passing Thoughts

Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard

Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife,
Their sober wishes never learn'd to stray;
Along the cool sequester'd vale of life
They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.

Lines 73-76
By Thomas Gray (1716-71).

The Epitaph

Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth
A youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown.
Fair Science frowned not on his humble birth,
And Melancholy marked him for her own.

Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere,
Heaven did a recompense as largely send:
He gave to Misery all he had, a tear,
He gained from Heaven ('twas all he wish'd) a friend.

No farther seek his merits to disclose,
Or draw his frailties from their dread abode
(There they alike in trembling hope repose),
The bosom of his Father and his God.

By Thomas Gray (1716-71).

Hypertense

I can feel the rush of blood to my head draining my weakening lower limbs. The heart beats fall ectopically as the viscera churn inside. So near, yet so far. Still unfinished and yet to be revealed...

Recent posts (and those to follow) have consisted largely of rather inane ravings. Actually, inane is a peculiarly inept word to describe my feelings at the moment, which cannot be very aptly classified by any conventional terms. Never mind. I've just thought of (what I think is) an amusing phrase..."Always look on the bright side of life...but keep your sunglasses on and don't stare into the bright light or you'll damage your retina and won't be able to see in the dark." Haha, Jason. Not funny at all. Sadly, how true. About everything.
Note to self: don't talk to self; I shall stay a step behind my own mind. It runs faster than I can, but not fast enough for me to understand it!

On a more mundane footing I ought to add that lately my sushi/sashimi consumption has risen four-fold. Apart from the home-made stuff I do visit 'Sushi Tei' in Holland Village for my tri-weekly fix of sushi.

.

Musings from the unamused

Hostages have been in the news lately. I suppose, to some extent we are all hostages of some sort. Trapped, like caged animals we wander aimlessly through our daily routines.

At the present moment I am not unhappy with being alive. It would not be better to be dead. The use of the double negative is irritatingly potent but quite necessary in this case. Life presents so many obstacles that don't bear thinking about. Even the eternal optimist would be hard put to not find something unhappy about life. I make no pretence to be a philospher, but if one assumes that life is 'good' then my logic dictates that this must denote the existence of something that is NOT good. Not good, I hear you quip? Not quite, but then again not really. As I mentioned earlier, it would not be better to be dead. I may have changed my mind in 60 hours time, thereby illustrating the transience of life (and, naturally, the concept of 'goodness' that accompanies it).

We live. We die. That is a certainty. We pass, we fail - whether the heavens will a more or less benign fate, we may choose to lie down and accept the thrashing of reality, stooping with each blow of humiliation. We can fail and fall - consigned to the empty vacuum of historical detritus. Dead in all but name before the first fight has finished.
Or we can rise. The oppressed shall resurrect their dignity and stumble no longer. Yea, the fallen shall rise again and cast of the chains that bind them to the steel-capped spokes of life's Catherine wheel. We may be beaten down, but we shall NEVER be vanquished, e'er the faintest trickle shall drain the fount of life - we shall prevail o'er our foes, and victory, like the rays blood-red dawn will cast her avenging hand to smite the enemy. Fear not, fail not, for the day of judgement is at hand and we shall prevail!

From Hell

The long nightmare is over. The veil of darkness has been lifted and the evil shadow that had befallen the land was finally defeated. Life was renewed; friendships remade; the broken were made whole again. As the dawn of a new day broke and a pure light streamed from the heavens, the hobbits paused to ponder how close to disaster Middle-Earth had come - and yet - and yet! The evil foe had been vanquished and from the rubble came a new hope. Victory had smiled upon the hobbits today. From death, through hell, by sacrificing blood, sweath, toil and tears they now had hope. A better hope. A hope for the future that transcends the pain of the past. Truly, they were free. Free at last!

Monologues

Random insertion: I seem to have developed a fascination for 'pep-talk' style monologues. They deliver that temporary burst of inspiration needed by the less than inspired.

Today shall see me traipsing off to the public library nearby to exercise my right to vote. Although not a citizen of this country I am, by some esoteric quirk of the political system accorded voting privileges as a legal resident. An interesting consequence will be that this makes me the first member of my immediate family to cast a political vote. Ever. Granted, I have an uncle who was an MP in my home country and some of my uncles/aunts vote, but my own parents have either never been accorded voting rights or have never elected to use them.

Revision has dulled my senses - alas, not like an opiate, but rather more like a lethal dose of a barbiturate mixture. One would be doing it a disservice to compare the onset of mental strangulation brought about by such intolerable frustration to euthanasia. Indeed, there is no 'fallback' for those at the back.

In other news...Ronald Reagan is now deceased. One can only hazard a guess...
1a Pneumonia
1b
11 Alzheimer's disease ?!?