Tout la vie á dépéri! C'est correct?

Wrong step, wrong path, wrong mind, wrong soul. Confused, confused, confused, the young fawn stops. Unfamiliar trees! Foreign smells! Alien noises! Did it make the right choice to leave the grasslands?

Nibbles the pristine grass; taste like nectar. Was this right? Waits for the antlers to grow.

-

Anyways, Ip Man can kick Vampire ass everyday. Bella should have hired Mr Ip instead of her lousy vampire friend to defeat the "tracker"! Anyways, did anyone noticed the inconsistency in the subtitling of Ip Man. When they called Ip Man in Chinese, it was "wen shi fu" or effectively, Master Man! But the subs gave it as Master Ip! Come on, wierd as the sub might sound, we should demand factual accuracy right!

Am I destroying myself? Every step I take, I find myself so detached from life that I can no longer connect with anyone on a personal level.

This is no angsy teen complain here. It is true.

J'ai complété la Delf A2! Enfin! Je ne peux pas croire que j'étais en retard! Je pensais que le temps pour l'orale est le temps pour commencer le Delf! Heureusement, Kenneth m'appelle pour poser si j'ai arrivé.

En tout cas...je suis heureux que j'ai eu complété le Delf! Je suis heureux que j'ai eu Angelo pour l'examinateur de l'orale! Il'est été jeu!

B1, en garde!

Pourqoui?! C'est pas que je m'attendrais! Etre prevenu venir de départir, c'est le plus ridicule situation de l'année! Et pour un situation que je n'ai pas tort completement.

Chips, vodka, music

Oh lord, what hath become me? Ah! Decided not to go wala so that I can complete that long procrastinated-dead line approaching application essay, and yet, I ended up staring at the screen, feeling bored, and poured myself 2-3 shots worth of vodka + coke light and munched away at chips whilst reading bonfire of the vanities. Now, I resume my vain effort of continuing my challenge with the essays, and wanting to sleep!

In anycase, 10 more steps!

11 more steps

I hear the keys, you are 1 step closer. :) Salvation!

But I STILL have to stay back today.

11 steps away.

12 more steps to liberty

Dear good blessed ethereal apparently omnipresent omnipotent eternal Lord,

For 1 years and 11 months, I have been ensnared by this black iron prison. Every morning, I wake up at 6am to wash up and prepare my breakfast and packed lunch. For Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, I leave home by 6.45am, whilst on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I leave home around 7.15am. On my way to camp, I look out of the window, and is constantly struck by jealously, jealously of the freedom the students have. The contrast is too stark! They skip to school in anticipation of another enriching day; I slouch to work dreading another dreary draining day. Everyday when it reaches 4.30pm, I wonder when I'll be able to take my short hiatus from camp. 5.30pm? 6pm? 10pm? We celebrate our small victories when we eke out of camp by 5.30pm. We congratulate each other when we leave at 6pm. And we grouse but take it stoically when we can only leave at 11pm.

I see you approaching with the keys! How beautiful they gleam under the brilliant halo of yours! What alluring music they play as they clatter against each other!

And you are but 12 steps away. 12 steps away! My dear lord. I do not want to importune you, but please make haste!

Sorry my lord, but I have to depart for now. I shall converse with you tomorrow again, 1 step nearer to you.

Bye Kai wen!

I just realised that with Kai wen's ORD, I am effectively reduced to myself talking to myself about philosophy, social behavior, or in fact, anything regarding the humanities or stories and literature that I read (so much like my post-suicidal, post-graduation and post-enlistment days!). Sigh. I must admit that if NS has everything bad going for it, at least it gave me the time to discuss stuff people normally find to dry to talk about, and allowed me to meet a person drastically more knowledgeable than me in certain academic areas, thus spurring me to read even more (of course this was not the only good thing lah! Learning Carter's "any mother son...ni chi bao mei?! is also another educational lesson! I'm leaving this for another post though!)! I hope I don't sound arrogant, but it's really been some time since I have met someone to truly spur me to push the envelope of my mind's capabilities. There are some of course, like the immortal Guan Yin (haha...for those not in the know, this is not the goddess ok! I do NOT desecrate religious idols! :P), or Mr pau li bu xiang rong (or in English, Pauli's exclusion principal) back in RV days (I think only Chen Yu knows who he is), but ya, I guess I easily sink into complacency when I appear to know something of everything, and thus can con any random dude into believing that I am knowledgeable hahaha....Did you know that polar bear skin is black! Or that string theory is a combination of 5 separate theories (knowledge of which I have all ashamedly returned to Prof Brian Greene. Thanks for the educational ride though!). Or that String Theory postulates a Calabi-Yau manifold as THE 7 dimension space within our perceived 3 dimension space (what on Earth is a manifold?!?!?!)! Bet you didn't know that! Eh, what the hell am I talking about? Getting incoherent.

Anyways, I presume Kai wen doesn't read my blog, but if you do! Thanks for all the intellectual stimulation you have provided me over the year! From Ayn Rand to Fukuyama, Timurlane to Napoleon (and Samarkand! We MUST visit it one day!).

And no more kai wen to go "chee byeeee! I believe in discordianism ok!" lol...

Yes, I would never have declared myself agnostic in an official personnel particulars list if you hadn't claim yourself a "discordianist"!

Oh, je n'ai pas complété. Je suis d'accord que ORD est OVERRATED. Mais, il est le HAPPINESS c'est OVERRATED. Le RELIEVE et REPRIVE, ce n'est pas OVERRATED!

Back to reading TinTin. Sigh, TinTin dan le francais est vraiment ardu.

Je pense je dois un catharsis. Ou je tuerais quelque dans mon bureau!

Grr.

Mais, c'est 4 semaines a ORD. J'endure!

On ne s'y attend pas je serai un bon ami avec ces USELESS personnes.

Procrustean bed

I like this word :) describe perfectly what we are doing now.

J'ai realise...

I enjoy looking at the pictures that are put up by my friends (acquaintances, and eh, strangers :D) who are overseas. I guess being trapped here makes living vicariously through others that much more attractive! Anyways, I must say that JE SUIS VRAIMENT JALOUX with some of you guys (and girls :D)!

But as I walk through London with Kok Chong, pass bridges with Sheryl, dine at some Harry Potter-esque hall with Caleb, I realised something...why do folksies en Angleterre seem to have so much time?! Sorry if I appear mistaken, but man, you guys are practically trawling around England, and then traversing through Europe, and then more! To immerse oneself in the haute couture of Paris! To bury oneselves amongst the beer and fries of Belge! Ah, je l'aime et je suis envieux! Is it really that good there?

Et j'ai realise aussi...

Kai wen, you are wrong to call us dogs. Dogs at least receive proclaimations of love and respect from the owners, and do receive it from time to time. But neither am I right to think of ourselves as slaves. Slaves are 3/5ths of a man. As lowly ranked NSFs, we are not even consider human.

We need our own Hegira in the service!

I have changed dramatically

Oh my. I really have changed haven't I? Never in my wildest dreams have I ever considered involving myself in local politics. But I guess I have woken to the realities that if I want improvements, doing it myself is probably more efficacious than begging for help. So yes, I have taken Kai Wen's suggestion. Lets see how it works out.

What's the problem?

Just finished reading Stand on Zanzibar (took too damn long...sigh). And yes, it involves the same recurring dystopic themes that I love so much, simply because I feel so much connection with it regarding the current world that I live in.

Whenever I involve myself emotionally in various topics, I almost always find myself regretting that not many people I know enunciate the same feelings as me. What further disappoints me are those who deny the existence of problems in the world and revel in their dreadfully mindless existence.

In fact, I seem to be feeling this emotional disconnect with most people I have spoken to. For example, at the summit, I really thought I would learn something new, but I came out learning more about human nature than protecting the earth! When the panelist dismissed suggestions by declaring himself "long dead before it is needed", you start realising that each person there probably does have a personal agenda: the legacy he or she wants written. Am I a depressed pessimist to worry so much for the world; a hopeless romantic to care so much for humanity's future; an impossible idealist to believe in the good of mankind, that people can peel the scales off their eyes to see for themselves the crumbling facades of Earth?

Do we need to find some "common sense" gene that will wake people up?

On another note, tomorrow marks the last six weeks in NS! Oh well, I'm definitely glad to leave this black iron prison of arbitrary rules and unreasonable wardens! Of course, over the 2 years, I have made the acquaintance of many fun and friendly superiors, but NS has also showed me the idiocy that can reigned even in areas as important as national defense. I probably have learned to judge people better now, and learn which trunk to lean when I need help.

On the other hand, the empire never ended, and the black iron prison continually exists. Being cognizant of its existence probably just makes life that much harder, but I must take my chances and learn to live.

Trophic Thunder

Watch it. Sérieusement. C'est terrifie. Had me laughing from get go lol.

Je DETESTE being put down. Je suis vraiment disappointed avec CE dude I met today. C'est IRONIC si je meet lui again in the mois ahead a son workplace!

Quite a tad disappointed with the panelists today. When I mentioned the use of OPV, it was dismissed as being too immature a technology, and cited that only 1 company makes OPV. But a cursory search via google showed at least 4 companies! What's more, DARPA is actually looking towards OPV for its field energy generation! The forecasted potential for OPV is like 40c/watt peak vs $4 / watt peak for Si cells! And this guy somehow manages to make OPV sound like some useless technology meant mainly for toys and gadgets?!

And what was worse...

"By the time we need batteries to store excess electrical power from solar cells, I would be long dead!"

I didn't know scientists talked like that. V disappointed.

Am I angsty, or am I angsty. lol.

This is pretty sad. I really want to go and run, but been forcing myself to sit here since 7 to write my "how has my world influenced my dreams" essay! And the success of my efforts extent only to the point where I typed some words, then started browsing the NYT and reading the history of Teddy Roosevelt and FDR whilst fulminating about the current credit-turned-financial-now turned-economic crisis, then finally reading about World War 2.

Which made me even more upset with how this world is being run currently. I want to be a Roosevelt!

Which in turn made me wonder if doing research is really my calling? Should I try out in politics instead? But what can Singapore do in the global minefield? Or should I do a Schwarzenegger? But he had least had body building to fund his foray into American life and popularity. And he's white.

Darn! I feel useless and trapped in this insignificant body and life. I feel like I have done nothing in 21 years of life! I feel pathetic whining about my futile Singapore life when I can't even focus my mind to write an essay!

The ironies! Alanis, vous avez eu raison!

Oh ya, and the point about world war 2? Fuck war, fuck the world's armies. Why for the love of god are humans fighting each other when we are already suffering? I wonder if mankind really wants Burnet's view to triumph?

Sun + Water = Fuel?

Sun + Water = Fuel???!!!

I'm getting very disappointed with MIT review's Kelvin Bullis. This is the 2nd time I have seen him sensationalising Nocera's research, masquerading variations of improved electrolysis as ARTIFICIAL PHOTOSYNTHESIS! What ever happened to balanced and detached reports?!

“The whole point of the armed forces is to hurt the environment,” he said. “You go on a bombing mission — do they have to prepare an environmental impact statement first?”

I just love a man who speaks the truth!

I need to live life

Alas,

I need to live life
Like some people never will
So find me kindness
Find me beauty
Find me truth
When temptation brings me to my knees
And I lay here drained on stength
Show me kindness
Show me beauty
Show me truth

so poignant.
From, Learning to Live, one of my favorite songs, which I have not listen to for sometime.

And from another long time favourite, Endless Sacrifice

Try to stay alive
Until I hear your voice
I'm gonna lose my mind
Someone tell me why
I chose this life
This superficial lie
Constant compromise
Endless sacrifice
.
.
.
You're so far away
And so alone
You long for love's embrace
To keep you sane
To make you whole

Damn, I keep having dreams of HIM hitting HER, ME hitting back at HIM, HIM half-dead, HER afraid, HER lonely, and I wake up.

I think I'm starting to get lost again. Oh my oh my...this sacrifice of my sanity must end. I really need to start living my own life.

Pigs don't fly

Pigs don't fly: You don't work, you die

As I pass through my incarnations in every age and race,
I make my proper prostrations to the Gods of the Market Place.
Peering through reverent fingers I watch them flourish and fall,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings, I notice, outlast them all.

We were living in trees when they met us. They showed us each in turn
That Water would certainly wet us, as Fire would certainly burn:
But we found them lacking in Uplift, Vision and Breadth of Mind,
So we left them to teach the Gorillas while we followed the March of Mankind.

We moved as the Spirit listed. They never altered their pace,
Being neither cloud nor wind-borne like the Gods of the Market Place;
But they always caught up with our progress, and presently word would come
That a tribe had been wiped off its icefield, or the lights had gone out in Rome.

With the Hopes that our World is built on they were utterly out of touch,
They denied that the Moon was Stilton; they denied she was even Dutch;
They denied that Wishes were Horses; they denied that a Pig had Wings;
So we worshipped the Gods of the Market Who promised these beautiful things.

When the Cambrian measures were forming, They promised perpetual peace.
They swore, if we gave them our weapons, that the wars of the tribes would cease.
But when we disarmed They sold us and delivered us bound to our foe,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "Stick to the Devil you know."

On the first Feminian Sandstones we were promised the Fuller Life
(Which started by loving our neighbour and ended by loving his wife)
Till our women had no more children and the men lost reason and faith,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "The Wages of Sin is Death."

In the Carboniferous Epoch we were promised abundance for all,
By robbing selected Peter to pay for collective Paul;
But, though we had plenty of money, there was nothing our money could buy,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "If you don't work you die."

Then the Gods of the Market tumbled, and their smooth-tongued wizards withdrew
And the hearts of the meanest were humbled and began to believe it was true
That All is not Gold that Glitters, and Two and Two make Four—
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings limped up to explain it once more.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

As it will be in the future, it was at the birth of Man—
There are only four things certain since Social Progress began:—
That the Dog returns to his Vomit and the Sow returns to her Mire,
And the burnt Fool's bandaged finger goes wabbling back to the Fire;

And that after this is accomplished, and the brave new world begins
When all men are paid for existing and no man must pay for his sins,
As surely as Water will wet us, as surely as Fire will burn,
The Gods of the Copybook Headings with terror and slaughter return!

Beautiful and poignant poem!

As I have ALWAYS been decrying, modern economics is nothing but a simulation, an unstable simulacrum easily pierced by doubt. When people start making money out of money, and spend their life doing so and being feted for success in doing so, we know the next economic crisis is looming.

What ever happened to the days when industrialist were lauded for advancing society, and speculators decried for the leaches they are? What ever happened to young children who grew up wanting to fly to the moon? How ever were they lost to the jaws of transient capital?

In the spirit of Kipling's poem, was suddenly inspired to write my own. Pales much in comparison to him of course!

Jack built a house and he found
the pillars rickety
the floorboards squeaky.

So he bought a pint of Nippon paint
promising beautiful varnish
that will never vanish.

He sold the house for a tidy sum
showed people how he made his pounds
and hordes of Jack's houses were found.

The Earth grumbled under this unholy weight
of never before-seen construction
and unseen events began its fermentation.

The people were having dinner one night
some just breaking fast
while others having lunch in between classes.

A collective scream ensued
when the ground tore
and houses started to fall.

So where do we go from here
with chip boards flying off machines
to replace the flimsy construction that is now so obscene.

We ditch the Nippon paints
the promise they made were empty
and invest in better paints to make the people happy.

Watch out my men (and women too!)
for the clouds still loom
where we again proclaim doom.

I was thinking

and thinking

and thinking!

And I realised!

No need for secrets anymore!

Finally!

Reminder to self: Port over only the less seditious stuff! Don't wanna raise the ire of people who can STILL charge me after I am ORD!

Ayn Rand's philosophy gets more ridiculous as time passes.

Je pense c'est un parfait opportunité exercer mon français! J'espère que je peux converser avec des françaises naturel! Si, il sera le possibilité que je peux prendre le B1 l'année prochaine.

Pourquoi je suis le pensive tous les jours?

Pourquoi je suis le pensive tous les jours? Je suis triste. Beaucoup.

Yes, recently, I'm being feeling more and more down. Increasingly, the footsteps get heavier, the stairs harder to ascend. Life is so difficult. The climb is so hard, the reward so far, and when we near it, we fall.

You know, I've almost stopped listening to metallica, queenscythe, or iron maiden. I loved them so much. Their music always riled me to action. They were stimulants to my depressed mind. They were opium to my trodden soul. But dope only works for so long. Tolerence builds up till the point it evokes no emotions. Instead, and unbelievably, I'm turning more and more to teen angst-sy songs. Why put up that facade of toughness and strength by listening to metal? I have sunk so deep I can't crawl out any longer. I would rather now pander to my teenage emotional side than face the void I see.

Je regarde les photos de quelque amis, et je suis jaloux! Oui, mon temps viens, mais, il est 11 mois minimal! Les photos des universités! Le places est TRÈS beau! Je veux avoir la-bas!

Mais, en additionnel a le désire, je suis l'ennuyeux. Je sais je n'ai pas préparé, (ou a minimal, je pense je n'ai pas préparé), et je suis actuellement dread le jour d'arrivant. Mon dieu! C'est la vie...lol

A day in the life of Ivan Denisovich

So it goes...I just spent the afternoon reading the whole book.

I love exploring books that develop new concepts or perspectives. In my sojourn through the realm of literature, I have exposed myself a spread of ideas, some coterminous to the other, others poles apart. And I have cynically processed them, assimilated the relevant and insightful ones, while caching the less palatable or facile ones. The penetrating and astute ideas elicit raptures of praises from me and persist in my mind, while the objectionable or shallow ideas are gradually worn away by entropy.

But rarely do I get emotionally attached to them, and rarely will my emotions be stirred by the author.

In One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich, Solzhenitsyn has touched me with his gritty realism on Stalin's labour camps just as Vonnegurt shook me with his biting satire on war. In the few hours it took to traverse 142 pages and 20 hours of (Ivan Denisovich) Shukhov, my perception on the desirabilty of Stalin as a leader in Russia has been shattered at its foundations.

Of course, it is inevitable that I'll miss out much at a such sprint to complete a book so pregnant with poignancy, and I must re-read it when the free time arises again. For now though, I think it necessary to put pen to paper the ideas of greatest significance, for this book has been, in a way, almost cathartic.

Of greatest import is the way the book has crushed my supposedly detached views of the necessitiy of dictatorship in 3rd world nations to ensure sustainability. As an observer of history removed from participation as victims in Stalin's crimes, I have often immaturely declared that without Stalin, the USSR would have disintegrated in the face of German onslaughts in WW2, and that so much that Stalin was a cruel man, he was a saviour to his people and that negated much of his crimes.

But can crimes really be negated this way?

When Shukhov is punished simply for surviving and escaping capture; when a soviet hero is punished because an English admiral sends him gifts, is such a leader even worth a modicum of respect? I'm not naive or ignorant, and I know of the ludicrous crimes that have been dreamed up for persons perceived to be threats to Stalin, but most of the time, these were men who remained faceless or just a numeral in the millions of subjugated me. Perhaps my small heart was simply unable to comprehend the immensity of Stalin's monstrosity, so much so I often compared his economic "achievements" to his crimes, and conclude his achievements were more favorable to him! But Solzhenitsyn forces me to look in the faces of each labour camp prisoner, forces me to live with them for one day. He tears the scales from my eyes, and shows me how gulag life has broken these men. When life is reduced to looking forward to a pinch of tobacco, a bowl of grass, and a bite of bread; when life is reduced to sleep; when life is reduced so much one starts to fear freedom! Par dieu, as the characters of Dumas always say. By God! How much cruelty could be doll out to men? Jesus suffered much physical pain on the cross; these men probably would rather suffer that pain and die knowing that people venerated him. Each of these men could be Jesus.

There are really more that I wish to say regarding my revulsion at the Stalin regime, but I lack the emotional capability and words for it now. Another day for this while I move on to a few other ideas that touch me significantly.

Just this Friday, I spent half a day debating with 3 avowed Christians about the existance of God, or at least a supreme being. (On a side note, 2 of them at least seemed to be tending towards the intelligent design idea, which really frightens me considering that I never imagined practical Singaporeans to fall into the trap Americans are falling into.) Then on Saturday, I visited this church (lighthouse evangelism) at Woodlands. A proclaimed Agnostic at a church procession! How quaint! So much for the "who cares about God" proclaimation! But it was a well-intentioned invitation by my boss, and a real agnostic is always open to all ideas! Anyways, what is its relevance to Solzhenitsyn? Well, the 2 events of the pass 2 days replayed in my eye when Shukhov expresses the opinion that "prayers are like our appeals; they either don't get through or are return with the stamp, 'rejected'". On Saturday evening, the instances of miracle was incredible to the state of incredulous. Healing prayers by proxy saved this Phillipino! A hand that brought unbearable pain to its master was quelled! But half a world praying did naught for men in gulags. God's ways are mysterious my Christian friends declared, but certainly this mysteriousness bothers on the malicious, no? I prefer a more palatable God, thank you!

Finally, I end this with a description of work by Shukhov: Work was like a stick. It had two ends. Whenyou worked for the knowing you gave them quality; when you worked for a fool you simply gave him eye-wash. How it resonates with me!

Darwin turns in his grave yet again...

America!
Land of the free!
Wallow in your disbelief!
For the world rejoice,
as you sink back in regression,
as we make ourselves a stronger race!

Je n'ai pas crois que Américains peuvent si stupide! Comment les Américains deviennent le plus puissant pays?!

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/08/24/education/24evolution.html?partner=rssnyt&emc=rss&pagewanted=all#

Well, for their regression is our progression. It feels incredible that such a technophile nation can still sink to anachronistic ideals!

Ah, the vicissitudes of life!

You shall meet your adversary: Patience.

So often I tell people how much a miracle it was that I escaped my own Gehenna. Some would probably think I'm lying outright, some think I exaggerate, some respecting my tenacity, some marvelling at my shear fortune.

I don't exaggerate, but I still find myself occasionally forgetting how difficult the ascend was. I treat it as a joke, and ever so often, because I forget myself, I stumble over the smallest pebble.

Because I forget, I run myself through this gamut of pain repeatedly.

I see the end of this gauntlet.

True power in the Singapore army

Power is only real, if the entity which wields the power is threatened by death. As a corollary, an entity that is faces no threat to its existence, is an entity with no real power. As a second corollary, power exist in a Morbius spiral-liked reversibility, where its death perpetuates its existence.

So the Singapore army, which group holds true power? The generals and his coterie of officers? The warrants, the potential conduit between officer-dom and the masses? Or, could it be, incredibly, the blur mass of low-ranked foot soldiers?

Of course you know where this postulation is heading.

Indeed, our featureless blob of low-ranked personnel wields real power, and in fact, they are probably the only entity in the army that holds any true power. Officers and warrants alike instead hold a vacuous power.

Why?

Because, unlike the enlistees and specialists these 2 entities do not face any real threats to their existence. Death in the army, figuratively speaking, comes in the form of a court martial or charge. It is only in the form of official punishment that power held by any of the entities can be destroyed. Yet, as one sergeant puts it, to charge an officer, you need to ascend through so many corridors of power that no one actually does it. So while officers can technically be charged, they face no tangible fear. In short, they face a simulated threat, not a real one.

So what does it signify?

Nothing less than the fact that the power officers hold are but a simulation. That directives and rules (that affect the officers) exist solely to serve as simulated threats to the officer corps: Simulated threats to perpetuate the officer corps' simulated power. That, in fact, without these directives, the officer corps would hold no power at all.

So how does this cause true power to fall into the amorphous mass of enlistees and specialists?

Because unlike the officer corps, directives serve as real threats to the lowly-ranked soldier. It is ludicrously easy to charge a CPL, but woe betid the person who submits a charge report on an officer. Real power only exists if it faces real death. From here, it is only a logical deduction: True power lies in the enlistees and specialists.

And finally, power in the enlistees and specialists will always perpetuate itself. Every time 1 man falls into Gehenna, power reincarnates itself amongst the masses.

Darn, only till do I realise that 2 of my fellow scholars are my juniors! Oh, well, I don't really know most stuff that goes on back in school anyways...

Et, j'ai seulement réalisé que la plupart d'entre eux etudients parfait, mais je ne suis pas!

Et...

Je réalisé il est dimanche martin! Mais, je ne veux pas dormir! J'aime beaucoup le weekend, et je ne veux pas dors tous les deux jours!

Hypocrisy?

Wide smile of appreciation;
gleam of cold steel.

Jovial, blithe commiserations;
harsh condemnation.

Sanctimonious preaching of compassionate accommodation;
harsh iron prison

Amity; enmity

I really detest hypocrisy. More aptly put, I disdain duplicity. Often, survival and societal position necessitates dissimulation. That is how, for example, an army survives. By dissimulation of real abilities and simulation of power through the rank structure. Or a feudal state. Or any incompetent government, for that matter. But duplicity for the sake of duplicity is unnecessary and jarring. As my superior in my current vocation, false affection does not beget benefits. False affectation only broadcasts your character weakness (<--my character weakness often forces my to jump to conclusions too! 24/8/2008).

Hi Eugene:
Do you still remember what inspired this piece? Probably takes a while to recall! Entropy does take a toll on the human memory. Do you find this piece a painful reflection of what you are? Have you become what you dread to become, slipping into the cloak that you disdain? Or do you smile to yourself, happy that you have sustained your personal ethos and survived?

Festering hate, dry tinder, and ignition!

That the Georgians believe that they could provoke a drastically superior opponent without repercussions is beyond belief.

That they Georgians think they can rely on American support, after the hypocritical actions of America in Pakistan and Iraq, is beyond belief.

Some people just don't learn.

Yeah!

This seems a good time to start my blog. With the blogging faze completely fizzling out, I am no longer pressured to blog for the masses!

Online records seems better than paper records now anyways. And I do want something to remind myself how far I have come, where I came from, what I went through. With this, I'll be able to trace the process that made me who I am, and perhaps provide a source of encouragement!

No more ramblings, farcical acting. For myself, the living.