Enter an Ouroboros, tailing your demise as it caves and consumes the innards of intuition, leaving behind a trail of impecuniosity and coffee stained mugs. White stains pervade the neon lights that flare and fade within the mind incessantly, like the curls left behind in another memoir, recollected nightly.
To sit and waste to the sonorous wail of a guitar during the Flower Show Riots writes the zeitgeist like an artist with the air as his canvas, flowing as zephyrs do to the whims of the dramatis personae; movements that reflect Failing Brain Recesses. Onward we struggle to make the ends of the day meet, for darkness to touch darkness, and creep out into the celebrations of annual age-growing. Or watching as capitalist activities woo masses into a trance, with Oranje suffering the defeat of pale.
A night of splendor and solace crushed by the solitude of a dream and the cold winds of reality, mixed with the wafting scent of chemicals in an acid rain. Words emerge in the Dance of Feet, nets ringing with the dual sound of victory and defeat epitomised by the beads of sweat dripping to the floor.
What does the week hold in store, until we return to another epoch of occupation?
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Sunday, June 08, 2008
In Defence Of...
In provocation of this.
The other day as I was sitting amongst students of variegated faculties (rumour has it that medical students have their own 'library'), when a supposed debate on the trial level faced by different students of different courses arose from the ashes of lethargy and exam apathy.
"F**k you arts guys watch movie for class all, as if your course is so hard!"
"F**k you business students, you couldn't spell Foucault with a management team!"
(improvisation added)
So as we bandied our words around in a polite, respectable manner worthy of prodigal university students, we managed to emancipate a few positions:
1) Assuming that people choose their course because that's what the enjoy studying, then on a data basis those who fail or drop out determines how 'difficult' a course is, because if you're in your niche and still sucking it, then your either a complete r-tard or your course is insurmountable past four feet.
2)That data is gay and erodes the uniqueness of the individual, particularly pertaining to the environment of said individual. (For more information on individualism and the effect of the environment please see Thunderpants)
3) That the point is not worth arguing over as there is no measure for difficulty (based on previous point of individualism), and that everyone should be cool and listen to Interpol.
If your in a course-stereotype mood, feel free to guess which points belong to which faculty.
So anyways, the first point is fine and dandy from a purely empirical point of view, if one were to quantify data on things like lack of sleep, failure rate, dropout rate, hours spent in library etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. However, data and figures alone is not enough to measure the difficulty of course. Sure it gives you numbers, but the conclusion is based on a positive or negative conclusion. The statement may go something like this:
The data states that more business students lack sleep. Therefore we can infer that a business course is difficult.
Which, of course, is a very simplistic analysis.
The second point follows individualism, that we're all too cool and unique to be quantified. 'Nuff said.
And lastly, the third point builds on the second, where since we're all too cool to be transformed into numbers on a spreadsheet it is therefore impossible to ascertain which course is harder (not to mention a tad bit unethical and xeno-coursephobic), and that we should all just chill out to Leif Erikson by Interpol.
Sure some courses may entail more work. For example medicine is determined to rape the life out of its students. However this creates the God complex within them, which is what I despise in all doctors. Furthermore, they go on to rape the world of its cash, just like lawyers. Business students have loads of work but will inevitably get rich some day, where Arts students chill out, stone and theorise with the knowledge that we'll either rule the world or live in a box playing Risk.
Yet we study what we study willingly (unless your a student of journalism) and knowingly. So chill out and make the world a better place with whatever degree you have!
Unless your in law school, as entrance fee is the sale of your soul.
The other day as I was sitting amongst students of variegated faculties (rumour has it that medical students have their own 'library'), when a supposed debate on the trial level faced by different students of different courses arose from the ashes of lethargy and exam apathy.
"F**k you arts guys watch movie for class all, as if your course is so hard!"
"F**k you business students, you couldn't spell Foucault with a management team!"
(improvisation added)
So as we bandied our words around in a polite, respectable manner worthy of prodigal university students, we managed to emancipate a few positions:
1) Assuming that people choose their course because that's what the enjoy studying, then on a data basis those who fail or drop out determines how 'difficult' a course is, because if you're in your niche and still sucking it, then your either a complete r-tard or your course is insurmountable past four feet.
2)That data is gay and erodes the uniqueness of the individual, particularly pertaining to the environment of said individual. (For more information on individualism and the effect of the environment please see Thunderpants)
3) That the point is not worth arguing over as there is no measure for difficulty (based on previous point of individualism), and that everyone should be cool and listen to Interpol.
If your in a course-stereotype mood, feel free to guess which points belong to which faculty.
So anyways, the first point is fine and dandy from a purely empirical point of view, if one were to quantify data on things like lack of sleep, failure rate, dropout rate, hours spent in library etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. However, data and figures alone is not enough to measure the difficulty of course. Sure it gives you numbers, but the conclusion is based on a positive or negative conclusion. The statement may go something like this:
The data states that more business students lack sleep. Therefore we can infer that a business course is difficult.
Which, of course, is a very simplistic analysis.
The second point follows individualism, that we're all too cool and unique to be quantified. 'Nuff said.
And lastly, the third point builds on the second, where since we're all too cool to be transformed into numbers on a spreadsheet it is therefore impossible to ascertain which course is harder (not to mention a tad bit unethical and xeno-coursephobic), and that we should all just chill out to Leif Erikson by Interpol.
Sure some courses may entail more work. For example medicine is determined to rape the life out of its students. However this creates the God complex within them, which is what I despise in all doctors. Furthermore, they go on to rape the world of its cash, just like lawyers. Business students have loads of work but will inevitably get rich some day, where Arts students chill out, stone and theorise with the knowledge that we'll either rule the world or live in a box playing Risk.
Yet we study what we study willingly (unless your a student of journalism) and knowingly. So chill out and make the world a better place with whatever degree you have!
Unless your in law school, as entrance fee is the sale of your soul.
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Smelling Petrol Is No Longer Free
I've got my COM1010 exam tomorrow.
But what I didn't count on was the events of today, and as per usual, blogging takes precedence over exams. Haha!
To adorn a more serious face.
Petrol prices increase tomorrow, to a whopping RM2.70 a litre, Malaysiakini reports.
Cometh the Armageddon, as petrol prices cause a cataclysmic chain of events which will end in the eventual annihilation of humanity as we know it.
The end is nigh, ladies and gentlemen, as we sit in front of our laptops and computers, or kick back to enjoy a cigarette with coffee, decisions based on the principle of market freedom continue to enrich certain sectors of society whilst straining others. This may appear to be something of an anti-democracy, pro-socialism rant, but in all honesty; f**k market freedom, for lack of a better word. Throw away your textbooks, step out onto the streets and pay the price for smelling petrol, because if you don't pay now, you will later.
Economics and marketing become useless and redundant the second petrol lines extend around the corner and past the block. Market freedom doesn't matter when the very electorate are subject to a ridiculous surge in prices, because once we shove the theories aside, side-stepping the charts on the way, if there are queues for petrol, its not working. Period.
Its rather difficult to describe the amalgamation of feelings and emotions within my being when driving past petrol stations to see them closed, and joining the queue for petrol amongst countless others. It was an overwhelming sensation of white-collar slavery, violation, exploitation, with Marx taunting me in my mind and an image of Sartre shaking his head while the words of freedom bind my feet to the gas pedal and my eyes to the fuel meter. All this and I don't even pay for my own petrol, but I shall nevertheless feel the weight of market freedom as prices inevitably rise around us like a surging wave. I'm no economist and I abhor math, but if it binds my hands to further shrewdness of my wallet, then there's a problem that needs addressing.
But its the price we pay?
Its a pretty damn high price. I don't (usually) align myself to any political stance, but visions of socialism form within my mind, alongside the contrasting image of breadlines.
"Man was born free, but he is everywhere in chains."
Jean-Jacques Rousseau
But what I didn't count on was the events of today, and as per usual, blogging takes precedence over exams. Haha!
To adorn a more serious face.
Petrol prices increase tomorrow, to a whopping RM2.70 a litre, Malaysiakini reports.
Cometh the Armageddon, as petrol prices cause a cataclysmic chain of events which will end in the eventual annihilation of humanity as we know it.
The end is nigh, ladies and gentlemen, as we sit in front of our laptops and computers, or kick back to enjoy a cigarette with coffee, decisions based on the principle of market freedom continue to enrich certain sectors of society whilst straining others. This may appear to be something of an anti-democracy, pro-socialism rant, but in all honesty; f**k market freedom, for lack of a better word. Throw away your textbooks, step out onto the streets and pay the price for smelling petrol, because if you don't pay now, you will later.
Economics and marketing become useless and redundant the second petrol lines extend around the corner and past the block. Market freedom doesn't matter when the very electorate are subject to a ridiculous surge in prices, because once we shove the theories aside, side-stepping the charts on the way, if there are queues for petrol, its not working. Period.
Its rather difficult to describe the amalgamation of feelings and emotions within my being when driving past petrol stations to see them closed, and joining the queue for petrol amongst countless others. It was an overwhelming sensation of white-collar slavery, violation, exploitation, with Marx taunting me in my mind and an image of Sartre shaking his head while the words of freedom bind my feet to the gas pedal and my eyes to the fuel meter. All this and I don't even pay for my own petrol, but I shall nevertheless feel the weight of market freedom as prices inevitably rise around us like a surging wave. I'm no economist and I abhor math, but if it binds my hands to further shrewdness of my wallet, then there's a problem that needs addressing.
But its the price we pay?
Its a pretty damn high price. I don't (usually) align myself to any political stance, but visions of socialism form within my mind, alongside the contrasting image of breadlines.
"Man was born free, but he is everywhere in chains."
Jean-Jacques Rousseau
Monday, June 02, 2008
Blog Etiquette
shite lah. apologies for the vain digression, but I've been tagged!
7 Facts about me
1. I wanted to be a rockstar.
2.I still do.
3. I'm not Jewish.
4. I'm was born in JB.
5. I was white-washed.
6.I did gymnastics as a kid.
7.complete with spandex.
7 things that scare me
1. Ignorance
2. Illiteracy
3. Snakes
4. Mediocrity
5. democracy (hahahaha)
6. The fan unhinging
7. flying
7 songs of the moment
1. The Great Decay - The Great Spy Experiment
2. Pioneer to the Falls- Interpol
3. Under the Bridge - RHCP
4. Bulls on Parade - Rage Against The Machine
5. Johnny B. Goode - Chuck Berry
6. White Room - Cream
7. The Earth Song - Michael Jackson
7 things that I always say
1. "apa sal?"
2. "cibai..."
3. "whatcha got?"
4. "Anyone got 40 cents?"
5. "goddamn"
6. "what'd i miss?"
7. "which girl?"
7 things that matter the most
1. Everything is connected, so everything matters.
7 First times in life (in the last 365 days I guess)
1. I started uni.
2. I went to Africa.
3. Met a fascist and struck an amiable friendship.
4. Played futsal almost every week since the sem started.
5. Things appeared neither black nor white. Its true.
6.Things clicked.
7. I got tear gassed.
7 tagged people;
1.Mahathir
2. jeff Ooi
3. Marina Mahathir
4. Khir Toyo
5. Rocky
6. RPK
7. Chin Huat
if only they read my blog.
7 Facts about me
1. I wanted to be a rockstar.
2.I still do.
3. I'm not Jewish.
4. I'm was born in JB.
5. I was white-washed.
6.I did gymnastics as a kid.
7.complete with spandex.
7 things that scare me
1. Ignorance
2. Illiteracy
3. Snakes
4. Mediocrity
5. democracy (hahahaha)
6. The fan unhinging
7. flying
7 songs of the moment
1. The Great Decay - The Great Spy Experiment
2. Pioneer to the Falls- Interpol
3. Under the Bridge - RHCP
4. Bulls on Parade - Rage Against The Machine
5. Johnny B. Goode - Chuck Berry
6. White Room - Cream
7. The Earth Song - Michael Jackson
7 things that I always say
1. "apa sal?"
2. "cibai..."
3. "whatcha got?"
4. "Anyone got 40 cents?"
5. "goddamn"
6. "what'd i miss?"
7. "which girl?"
7 things that matter the most
1. Everything is connected, so everything matters.
7 First times in life (in the last 365 days I guess)
1. I started uni.
2. I went to Africa.
3. Met a fascist and struck an amiable friendship.
4. Played futsal almost every week since the sem started.
5. Things appeared neither black nor white. Its true.
6.Things clicked.
7. I got tear gassed.
7 tagged people;
1.Mahathir
2. jeff Ooi
3. Marina Mahathir
4. Khir Toyo
5. Rocky
6. RPK
7. Chin Huat
if only they read my blog.
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Caleb's Wonder Footballog
First things first:
HAPPY 18TH BIRTHDAY JACQ!
This post shall be dedicated to my course-mate, esteemed colleague, team striker and good friend, Caleb Khew.
My mate here has a problem.
And yes, its quite a serious problem.
You see, Caleb has a definitive issue with one Shebby Singh, a football commentator who regularly appears on ESPN and Star Sports as a panelist. Caleb believes his presence there is unwarranted, as Spurs fans should not be granted television rights of any sort, let alone a spot as a pundit. I believe that his appearance constitutes to positive discrimination, but thats another matter altogether and shall not be highlighted.
So here we have a disgruntled football fan, frustrated at the omnipresence of Shebby Singh and his incompetent ways. Being the persevering, headstrong fellow that he is, in true arts fashion he initiated a blog of his own, positing his own views free from the tarnish that is Shebby. Going with the current flow of alternative media, his blog is available at http://90minutesandmore.blogspot.com , where all his complex brain things take the shape of football writings.
Now ladies and gentlemen, this isn't merely a show of nepotism; in my humble opinion Caleb's insightful comments penetrate the very foundations of bullshit, presented in an avidly amiable manner for the masses. Fresh and cordial, Caleb obviously prefers thinking, analysing and writing about football than he does with Media Studies, and this has materialised into what I call Caleb's Wonder Footballog, or Caleb's Wonder Flog, or CWF for short.
So venture into Caleb's footballing world, post comments, and lavish in all things football. Go forth and multiply, in the form of site hits!
And Caleb, I expect lunch.
HAPPY 18TH BIRTHDAY JACQ!
This post shall be dedicated to my course-mate, esteemed colleague, team striker and good friend, Caleb Khew.
My mate here has a problem.
And yes, its quite a serious problem.
You see, Caleb has a definitive issue with one Shebby Singh, a football commentator who regularly appears on ESPN and Star Sports as a panelist. Caleb believes his presence there is unwarranted, as Spurs fans should not be granted television rights of any sort, let alone a spot as a pundit. I believe that his appearance constitutes to positive discrimination, but thats another matter altogether and shall not be highlighted.
So here we have a disgruntled football fan, frustrated at the omnipresence of Shebby Singh and his incompetent ways. Being the persevering, headstrong fellow that he is, in true arts fashion he initiated a blog of his own, positing his own views free from the tarnish that is Shebby. Going with the current flow of alternative media, his blog is available at http://90minutesandmore.blogspot.com , where all his complex brain things take the shape of football writings.
Now ladies and gentlemen, this isn't merely a show of nepotism; in my humble opinion Caleb's insightful comments penetrate the very foundations of bullshit, presented in an avidly amiable manner for the masses. Fresh and cordial, Caleb obviously prefers thinking, analysing and writing about football than he does with Media Studies, and this has materialised into what I call Caleb's Wonder Footballog, or Caleb's Wonder Flog, or CWF for short.
So venture into Caleb's footballing world, post comments, and lavish in all things football. Go forth and multiply, in the form of site hits!
And Caleb, I expect lunch.
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