I hate people...

I hate people.

It's pretty much a given. I'm sure you can't tell from the amiable way that I treat people, but behind that smiling face with the squinty eyes, I pretty much hate people in general. Save a few people I know in general, I pretty much hate the rest.

It is a sort of condescending view of people that I have in my mind. George Carlin had this awesome quote:

Think of how stupid the average person is, and realize half of them are stupider than that.

Maybe I am not qualified to think that, but certainly I think that that is the case. I mean, yeah, today in class, a guy stood up and said, "Bill Gates is Britney Spears in China, and Britney Spears is Britney Spears in America. I mean... like how many of us read celebrity magazines like People, and read magazines like... uh... ah... (scratches head)... some scientific magazine."

Wow... I mean, didn't he just describe himself? Yeah, he actually struggled to pick up a name of a factual magazine, say Scientific American, National Geographic, maybe even The Economist, but... he flopped on that.

I guess there are more than enough reasons to hate people, I mean, stupidity just being one of them. There are other annoying traits, like people who try to push their views around with the line, "You want to bet on that?" Especially when money isn't the issue, but that kind of attitude just stinks of corrupt capitalism and lack of intellectual depth. It's the kind of argument that shuts people up or makes them put money where their mouth is. That isn't the point. I hope people like that don't have money to put anywhere. It's childish, parochial and purely annoying.

I also hate unions. I haven't mentioned this enough, but I hate unions. Every Monday and Wednesday, I have lunch with three other guys and true enough, there would be one anti-union joke. I don't see why should a high school drop out earn anywhere near the amount of a college graduate. I don't see why that's the case, when market forces dictate that morons are a dime a dozen, and if they are intelligent enough to form unions, they are probably intelligent enough to actually work. But no, unions in fact promotes abuse and laziness in unionized workers. Trust me, those people who never show up from Verizon despite multiple calls and horrendous tech support who should be fired, continue to drain whatever system they are part of because they are in a union.

The counter-argument is that the average worker is easily abused by the system and pushed around by corporate America. What about corporate America, the largest tax payers in the country, being held hostage by a bunch of thugs who refuse to work, give subquality performance and demand perks that are even unheard of in third world countries. No, screw you, the American dream doesn't mean that everyone can get rich no matter how lazy or stupid you are. You don't deserve to get paid and quit whining about how your jobs are being outsourced mainly because you're too stupid to get things done and stay relevant. No, there's no reason to pay a person who is a liability than an asset. And that's what unions are, they are a liability. Today, the workers are protected by more than half a dozen laws and workers are able to bring lawsuits against their employers, even the most frivolous sexual harassment lawsuits. Wow... I mean, talk about employee empowerment, and what do unions do? Negotiate for higher, undeserved pay, raise the inflation rate by being paid for more than what the economic value of their work is, and just be a burden to everyone else. For every increase in their pay, consumers like me pay for it. Particularly when I can pay less in a non-unionized country. Yes, unions are that evil. They don't look out for people as a whole, they are a focused minority only interested in empowering themselves and protecting their own selfish self-interests at the cost of whoever's not a part of them.

Did I mention that I also hate the government? Yeah. Or religious fanatics? Or pussy moderates? Did I mention that I hate people who believe that I should believe what they believe? Did I mention that I hate people who aren't skeptical enough? Did I menion that I hate people who annoy me? Did I mention that I hate fanboys, pretentious people and arrogant assholes?

Yeah, the list just goes on. I mean, I'm all for having a shotgun and cleaning out the gene pool once in a while. It just annoys me. How there are so many people... and they just continue to annoy me, oblivious to their own personal world, selfish in their actions and ignorant in their ways. And with the lies put into their heads that all human beings are equal. No you're not. No human being is equal. And equality arises from learning to deal with it. Ignoring it doesn't make it go away. Someone will always be better than you, and you don't need to look far for that someone. There's no way then, you deserve anything.

I believe that no one deserves anything, no rights, no privileges, no crap. You work for everything you want, and if someone's got to give it to you, you have no right to whine like a little bitch if someone takes it away from you.

There, I said my piece. But I still hate you.

Lost

A plane crash strands the surviving passengers of Oceanic Flight 815 on a seemingly deserted tropical island, forcing the group of strangers to work together to stay alive…

Thus begins the story of Lost, the spectacular series (that I’ve hardly watched) that is now facing it’s third season. There’s a particular lure to that show, where 42 strangers suddenly found themselves in the middle of nowhere all with the same question on their minds, “Where the f*ck are we?”

It is more than easy to identify with the show, and connect with it on an emotional level. Lost, is the physical manifestation of our daily struggles with our own personal identities. At least I think so, which is a rather bold statement since I’ve hardly watched any of the episodes, and only know the general outline of the show. It’s about people, stranded, lost, confused and scared sh*tless by the realization that they are no longer where they thought they were. And they are not alone. And something is hunting them.

Okay, sans the last part, I guess a lot of us could identify with that. I mean that’s life, the strange surreal feeling when you wake up one morning, detached from your past, apathetic towards the future, and dazed in the present. Suddenly nothing seems certain anymore and you find yourself lost in life.

Like the people in Lost, paranoia quickly sets in, in that state of abstract lost-ness. You start feeling things that you aren’t sure of anymore, you are emotionally vulnerable and you start hallucinating. You feel and act in unstable ways, you sometimes shut out other people, you sometimes do things you consider morally reprehensible, it quickly spirals down and out of control as one action leads to the next, which leads to the next and soon you’d just be as confused and wouldn’t know what you’re doing anymore. And it begins again, like a positive feedback system, (pardon me, engineering students), that the more lost you feel, the more paranoid you get, which in turns makes you feel even more lost, and there are no brakes to this system because there is no one you can trust, because you’re getting more and more paranoid by the second and everyone seems out to get you, and you strangely would suddenly trust people you wouldn’t normally trust, you lose your sense of right and wrong, and you get attached to things you never liked, and then if rationality sets back, you realise you did things you would never do and you can’t go back again to the way you are, which then in turn initiates another cycle of lost-ness. And this hopeless state goes on, until you’re either driven insane, or you suddenly hit a bump and refashion your entire self, rebuild your own identity and reclaim your own name.

That is the feeling of being lost.

But it is strange, that I can even consider living a life like that. My reality anchor has been severed a long time ago, and I guess as I slip into this dazed state, I just focus on what to do next and I take one day at a time. I was asked this in an interview, how do I handle a tremendous workload, and my answer was simply to write it all down on paper and slowly check them off like a list, one by one. And thus the tapping of the pencil goes. I write and I write, and somehow, the list in my mind seems infinite, but then I struggle to reconcile the fact that I have only written down one thing on my physical list, “To live.”

But I think I am not who I am anymore, this entire lost feeling has finally caught up to me and claimed me victim, I swear I’m lost, but that is purely in the perspective of I am no longer who I am three years ago. Maybe even three months ago. My mind travels back to just one incident three months ago, and I recoil at the thought of my vicious actions there that were unprovoked, insane and evil. I have not brought myself the courage to confess that, not here, not publicly, not anonymously, not ever. To think, that it is that bad, and I wear that memory like a scar, it never did physically hurt me, but I guess scars run deep and the inner wounds never heal. I discovered that day, a new evil within me.

Sometimes in the midst of putting on the mask and taking of the mask, I have lost my sense of mind. I am always transitioning between worlds, always being different, always having dual personas, triple personas, maybe even five or six that I don’t even know of yet. Maybe it is time to admit, that the whole reason I hate people who put on masks, is because I am one of them too. I am neither as virtuous or pure as I would like to think of myself. I have finally said it, I, myself, am a pretender at times, if not all the time. Personally within this deep heart of mine, I am not sure who I am, and who I want to be.

I guess I need somehow to chronicle this revelation of myself. I discovered about five years ago that I could easily manufacture myself. I am able to adopt tastes, preferences, philosophy, thoughts, hobbies and interests that were never my own. I was able to talk like the crowd, float through cliques and be a part of just about anything. I was able to feign excitement and change my thinking that I would make things interesting. I was able to make myself think I was having fun, I was able to completely change my character from an introvert to an extrovert, I was able to stand up and lead, take charge, and I learnt that all of this, well, even before I would never have done it. And I guess this doesn’t sound much like changing, but in the midst of all of these, my priorities were changing. I wasn’t as idealistic as I was, I wasn’t as innocent as I was, and I wasn’t who I used to be. My last post is a reflection of that, how low I’ve sunk. When I stood up and said that I’m going to change myself, I did and I guess that’s when it all changed.

I realized more often than not, I was trying to blend in. Be a part of the crowd. And I think perhaps deep inside myself there is something twisted and wrong, that something that yearns for human contact. I can’t put this in words, but I present a similar but opposite parable in the words of David Carradine as Bill, from Kill Bill 2:

As you know, l'm quite keen on comic books. Especially the ones about superheroes. I find the whole mythology surrounding superheroes fascinating. Take my favorite superhero, Superman. Not a great comic book. Not particularly well-drawn. But the mythology... The mythology is not only great, it's unique. Now, a staple of the superhero mythology is, there's the superhero and there's the alter ego. Batman is actually Bruce Wayne, Spider-Man is actually Peter Parker. When that character wakes up in the morning, he's Peter Parker. He has to put on a costume to become Spider-Man. And it is in that characteristic Superman stands alone. Superman didn't become Superman. Superman was born Superman. When Superman wakes up in the morning, he's Superman. His alter ego is Clark Kent. His outfit with the big red "S", that's the blanket he was wrapped in as a baby when the Kents found him. Those are his clothes. What Kent wears - the glasses, the business suit - that's the costume. That's the costume Superman wears to blend in with us. Clark Kent is how Superman views us. And what are the characteristics of Clark Kent. He's weak... he's unsure of himself... he's a coward. Clark Kent is Superman's critique on the whole human race.

What if beneath the mask that is me, what if I’m just putting on glasses to be me, what if I take of those glasses, beneath my skin, I am some sort of animal, some bizarre twisted being, so capable of evil and hate, only despising everything he stands for.

I have completely reviled myself.

Once realizing that I’m such a despicable human being, if I am even a human being, there is only redemption left. After all, what is lost, remains to be found.

I am looking for the better part of me.

God is among us, and He comes in plastic

Money is the new god. Well at least I start to think that way. I wonder whether it is a good thing. After all a little cynical realism can't hurt anyone.

The other day I was walking out of school, when I got sidetracked by this group of people, Young Disciples of Jesus, and I swear I'm being stalked by them. I wonder whether it is this forlorn lost look on my face of having lost my spirituality and having my soul damned to eterenity, or whether I was just thinking deeply about something. But they approached me, and maybe this has been the fourth or fifth time I've been approached by them? Each time I politely say no, thank you, and I amble on with my annoyingly slow pace.

This time, it was different. Maybe I was in a different mood, or maybe I was just directly in the vicinity of my business school that I thought like a business student. I yelled out mentally, "God's with me in my wallet, and He comes in plastic."

I stood there, somewhat surprised at my arrogant materialistic reaction. I turned my eyes skyward and waited for that blast of lightning to hit me from the sky and fry myself to crisp.

I've changed a lot and I guess I grow tired of people who tell me that money can't buy you everything. Money is a tool, money is a means, money is necessary. Sure, money is the root of all evil, but how come no one ever notices that it takes money to do good deeds too? But I guess I'm really twisted when I make this point; that without money, there is evil. With money, there is good. Let's see whether I could even justify what I just said.

If there is no money, there is need, that needs to be satisfied, and people would satisfy it with any means, kill, rob, etc. etc. Now if people had money, they wouldn't need to do these kind of things to survive, instead they can show charity, kindness and aid.

Now what happens if we agree that money is synonymous to god and that we interchange those words; without god, there is evil. With god, there is good.

I guess this blog really doesn't have a point.

What if god was money? I mean, in a certain sense, if we were to admit that god is whatever people believe in, a supreme force that shapes the world, then doesn't money automatically qualify as a god if we believe in the power of money? Then what is wrong with that belief?

Money moves the world, changes people and shapes global policies. It determines the actions of people, it is the mantra that some people follow. It changes people, from Biochemistry Masters to Finance Degrees. It may not be all-powerful, but money is inadvertantly a symbol; a symbol of power. Money is the physical manifestation of this abstract idea of power that we have. And that we covet it, want to accumulate it, worship it because it grants us our hearts desire. Money isn't a god, it is the symbol of a god. But people seem to forget that when they say that money is a god. I guess that is what we're meaning, when we say money is the new god. And that money would continue to rule over people, human beings and everyone on this planet, because there is only one law; the powerful rule over the powerless.

Maybe money isn't the new god. But maybe credit cards are. Granting little wishes every day, with every swipe.