Conversations With Self

Monday, March 27, 2006

What? Not you too!?

I was walking towards the elevators when I saw my friend sitting down at a table talking to another guy. We had a midterm earlier today and I didn't get a chance to ask her how'd she do. And so I approached her and said hi.

"How was the paper?" I asked.
"It was alright, except that I know I got question 5 wrong. Everyone else I know got the answer, but I didn't and..."
"I think the answer was three hundred and seventy seven thousand... something and the other one was three hundred and twenty one thousand..."
"Yeah, well I didn't get that..."


At this point the other dude looked at me and said:

"Are you Singaporean?"

Horror, shock and astonishment raged across my face. What? How could I be mistaken for a Singaporean? Not that I have anything against Singaporean. But I'm about as Singaporean as... there exists flying cows.

"Err... no, I'm not Singaporean. Why do you think so?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, it's just the way you said 'three'."
"Err... yeah, my bad."
"I'm sorry."


At point my friend interjected: "It's okay, I also thought he was Singaporean."

Sunday, March 26, 2006

Voice

When I read people's blogs, it's not just a bunch of words. It's a voice. I don't read the words, I hear a voice. That person's voice, where the words translates somewhere between my eyes and brain to sound, where the vocals are provided from the deepest reaches of memory. Then there's a disembodied voice, talking to me, inserting all the intonation, breaths, pauses, emphasis, and the feeling behind the words.

It's rather odd that my mind fills this all up. Because there is so much fiction involved, that beyond the message, my mind has to conjure up this whole persona from memory, and the whole thing no longer becomes a chunk of text, but rather a narration. It does put a lot of things into perspective. After all a blog is not just letters.

Then once the voice is reconstructed in my mind, it only goes to show that I put a face to that voice. Skin. A thin artificial covering, that encases the voice to the shape of my memories, to put a physical person within my mind's eye. The reconstruction of a face, a body, of timeless quality when built through memories. And then perhaps just the last time I saw that person. Or a fond image of that person. Typical, stereotypical, usual, defining image.

Then the bunch of words, which started out as a blog, evolves to a voice, which subsequently becomes a person. From a paragraph, to a narration, to a conversation.

Everytime I read a blog. Even my own.

Which brings me back to Conversations with Self.

Thursday, March 23, 2006

Fact or Religion?

Once upon a time there was a science fiction author. He wrote science fiction, of robots and galaxies and space and stuff that wasn't real because that's the name of the genre; science fiction.

He probably figured that it didn't pay well, and he, like many other people, wanted to get rich, the quicker the better. So in his words, "Writing for a penny a word is ridiculous. If a man really wants to make a million dollars, the best way would be to start his own religion."

And thus perhaps the most ridiculous farce on the face of the Earth that suckered in countless millions in a most ridiculous half-baked story has emerged.

There are miracles which could possibly have happened in a not so miraculous form, and then there are miracles that could only have happened in the realm of science fiction which should have stayed in science fiction. The cult of which I speak of has enough lawyers that it would pursue not just litigious action but also heniously unethical actions which itself would be at odds with it's own moral code except for a caveat that they claim must preserve the sanctity of their own religion; to immunize themselves from criticism, fact and any challenges. In short, they would do anything, anything evil, just to preserve themselves. Which just goes against the very tenets of ANY other religion there is.

I am appalled that they could even apply for tax-exemption under the false guise of a valid religion. Because they sue so many people, they use up so many legal resources, they fight a lot of legal battles, they are a drain to the resources of society, that they should in fact pay taxes. And yes, they should stay out of politics too.

But perhaps, the whole reason I'm pissed off is because of a very well-known controversial and satirical cartoon has apparently been besmirched by this filth of an organization. A prominent member of this cult has threatened to not do a certain movie, of which he was a star in the previous two sequels if this episode lampooning (actually telling the truth more like it) was ever aired on a repeat broadcast. I honestly think, by my sole personal opinion, that the world would be a lot of a more better place with that entertainment of that rerun episode, rather than another megamillion high-tech gizmo bs that is perhaps, no better at all than the last sequel. Also a very important member of this cartoon, left the cast because of some disagreement with this episode over the cult. It's like a huge piece missing in the cartoon. And yes, it is the fault of this cult, for being so self-serving, for being so evil and being so obviously stupid that the people who are part of it know that if they were to admit it, they would kill themselves over the humiliation of how dumb it was. Yeah, I hate you.

And that's my opinion.

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

The Crucible

Sometimes I feel that I'm being tested. As though I'm running some sort of gauntlet, while soulless eyes scrutinize my every motion.

"You're being watched," the little voice at the back of my temporal lobe whispers insidiously.

Can't help but feel that every action I make has some serious repercussions that would come back later and haunt me. And this fear of such karmic fate has gotten me almost frozen in inaction.

I am being tested.

Friday, March 17, 2006

College Dropout

This post is about me.

This post isn't all about all those millionaires out there who dropped out of college to make their millions, this post isn't about how a college degree isn't worth, this post isn't about inspiring people to rise from failure.

This post is about failure.

Last night I entertained thoughts of dropping out of college. Not because I couldn't make it, not because I'm too stupid, not because of financial difficulty, and not because I am forced to. It's because I want to. Sometimes wandering through life in a hazy dreamlike state makes things unimportant. Maybe that's why I want to drop out. Because it is expected of me to finish my degree.

Yeah, expected of me. That I work a 9 to 5 job, make loads of Benjamins and have a Ferrari and packaged together, trophy wife plus pool boy. The future has no allure for me, it's more of a chore, a hassle to experience. Maybe I'm just burnt out. I can't do anymore from here on.

Steve Jobs dropped out of college to make his millions. I want to drop out of college to do nothing. Literally nothing. I feel that I'm doing nothing in college, and I'm paying tuition fees to actually do nothing.

I've hardly given up on anything, on life, on people, and I suppose this is a great place to start, by giving up on college. Start with something big, so that I can continue to give up other smaller things in life. I'm giving up. Almost there.

Once you've lost everything, you're free to gain anything.

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

The First Question

There are people who think and people who do. People who think, are those who think what the world should be like, trying to feel it's laws, and trying to make sense of the whole chaotic mess. People who do are people to shape that world through their actions, trying to create something, and make something out of all of it.

There are people who think, and people who do.

I remember once I expressed my opinion that I believed that morality is a social construct to someone. He looked at me and said that he had no respect for people who believed as such. Utterly no respect and disgusted and horrified that even such an idea does exist. Perhaps, had I not known him, I would have viewed that as a complete persecution of me as a person and my atheistic non-beliefs. No, years later it strikes me as an outright persecution, of how I never knew anyone, and a direct attack on what I believe.

There are people who think, and people who do. Action, reaction. I figured the whole belief system exists based solely on the limitations of our own intelligence. That as human beings there are vast gaps in our knowledge, that the only way to fill those gaps is with beliefs. There are unknown unknowns out there, and incidently, these were the words of Donald Rumsfeld, Secretary of Defense, on the war on Iraq, and perhaps it'll be nice to contrast him with Socrates for being the wisest man in Greece for knowing what he doesn't know. It's rather rare we get a confession from a politician that he is a fool, but we live by what we get. But there are unknowns. The unknowable unknowns. So we fill this gap up with beliefs.

There are things we know, and things we don't know, and we replace the things we don't know with things we believe to be true. Then we can claim with much falsehood that we know everything.

The whole point of knowing everything is to act consequentially. Because after all, if we know nothing, we can't get anything to happen the way we want it to. Imagine for a moment we know nothing about a car. Presented with three pedals and a steering wheel, if we knew nothing about a car, how would we get it to act according to our will? Maybe a car is even too simple, what about a computer? Many people are confounded by even the simplest functions of a word processor. Without knowledge, how would one do anything at all as typing out a document?

Therefore a simple expression has been said, that knowledge is the conduit of which we apply our wills to shape reality.

But as said before, knowledge is imperfect and lacking in some sense. Belief to knowledge is perhaps what cosmetics is to an ugly person. It fills in those gaps of knowledge, that we don't know, it is pseudo-knowledge where we can then act as though our beliefs are our knowledge and apply our wills accordingly. So this means that belief is just about as important as knowledge, that it complements knowledge, where knowledge fails. However, unlike belief, knowledge is infallible. And when it comes to a conflict between belief and knowledge, one must cede to the other.

Knowledge is immutable, unchanging and constant. Knowledge that changes is actually a belief, or the in the words of academia, an assumption that has a logical conclusion.

There are people who think, and people who do. Thinkers are all the philosophers and scientists in the world. Doers are the engineers and politicians in the world. Forgive me, but I have a great disdain for philosophers and politicians, neither ones being a profession of much utility.

So far, I've vaguely established a link between the will, the self, I, me, individual, all the way to the knowledge, then to belief, then to acting in the real world. Anyway, here my thoughts become iffy. What should then be the first question that a person asks?

One of the questions I've been grappling with all my life is: What is the meaning of life? But I think that is completely out of the context. The meaning of life is directly related to what should I do with my will, my knowledge and my beliefs with regards to the world.

What about the question, who am I? Or rather who is the will? I guess that question can only be answered with respect to the world. Rather isn't it our actions who determine who we are? That we, as individuals are reflected in the eyes of others, and that alone, without respects to anything at all, with no origin or fixed point for introspection, that we are nothing? We are shaped by our environment, and we would be nothing if our enviroment was nothing. But this idea itself opens another whole avenue for discussion, but taking that aside, and accepting this for a moment, that this isn't exactly the first question to be asked because we have to interact with the world first to get an answer.

Again, I look at the whole process which to me looks like this:

Self => Knowledge + Belief => Reality

Since the self cannot be answered without reality, and that the question of what to do with self, knowledge, belief with regards to reality is a question of every aspect, I think the one fundamental thing that is lacking is the belief part. Knowledge is immutable, self and reality is undefined without the conduit, so the only question left is, what is belief?

Or rather, what do I believe in?

But beliefs can be conflicting too, so there must exist one belief that overrides other beliefs if there ever was conflict. So what is this prime belief? If I were to ask a question, what would that question be? I think it's somewhat of a cross between, what do you believe is right and what do you believe to be always true? The sort of prime belief that defies even knowledge.

It's the sort of of question that asks, what is most important to you? Or which ideal is most important to you? Or which virtue is most important to you? So that is the sort of question which establishes that prime belief.

From this one belief, all other beliefs must concur. So perhaps, this is the first question.

Friday, March 03, 2006

Live or die trying.

Sometimes life whizzes by, and everyone else has moved along, and I'm left in the dust, wondering what the hell just happened. It's kinda like being hit by the proverbial sixteen-wheeler truck, except that it's perhaps bette to have been hit by reality than proverbs.

It's sort of like looking around and realising that everyone else has a life, except you. It's kind of like that zombie and mutant questions, what if everyone else around you was an automaton but you; instead in a most perversed way, you are the automaton, aware of everything around you, observing life and not living it because you are devoid of free will. Maybe that's what true horror is, being aware of every thing, but not being able to do anything about it. It's very much like watching Greek tragedy, where the audience knows what's going on, the eminent danger that the characters in the play face, the impending fate of doom and death, yet the characters remain oblivious. Except that in this case it is more of watching through the eyes of my body, seeing him go through everything, unaware of his impending fate, meandering through the day like an automaton.

One would think I would be used to rejection by now. After all, in many aspects, I am technically a reject. A reject, maybe only second rate at best. Useless skillset. Maybe (accepting) being a reject would bring things into perspective; after all what do I have to be so happy or proud about?

But it's all a matter of mind. It's not that hard to reach back into memory for the last thing that went wrong during my day. It's not hard to envision a day when everything goes wrong. After all, I could list everything that went wrong today, and therefore acknowledge today as a really bad day in my life.

I need a "mirror" to reflect me. Glass ones don't do.

My blog tends to lie empty, mostly for thoughts, but little about experience. I wonder if anyone ever noticed that, that somehow I write very little about my life. I don't tell stories of what happened to day, or what I said to who, or any particular event.

I don't even write that I fell sick yesterday.

It's more because my life is far less ordinary, and more mundane than anyone would ever dream of. Mundane. The most notable thing that happened today, is that I bought a cable for my guitar. It's a life so ordinary. Yeah. Sometimes I feel like I'm struggling to simply make a difference. Maybe even, just exist. Like trying to live, or die trying.