Wednesday, September 28, 2005

Ode to Curry Leave Culture Treasure

Life smiles, life frowns, life passes by
Time hurts, time heals, time makes us cry
Souls search, souls mate, souls say goodbye
Love comes, love stays, love makes me sigh

You came, we met, and our love grew
We talked, we loved, life began anew
We met, we went, troubles were few
You were, to me, my sacred pew

A month, ten months, altogether
I thought, I found, a love forever
But shades, of doubt, palled our bower
And damped, our love, and our fervour

I saw, too late, what I had done
My pride, my lust, had made you run
I hemmed, I hawed, did feelings I shun
You thought, that I, just wanted fun

I hurt, the day, you walked out the door
Out of, my life, forever more
My pain, my ache, a wounded roar
My heart, pounding, waves upon a shore

Well time, goes by, but wounds remain
I pray, for you, to come in vain
Your love, for me, by me was slain
All that, is left, is cruel pain

If you, read this, know who you are
Can feel, my pain, though you’re afar
Do you, know that, you are my star?
My love, for you, nothing can mar?

So come, back home, come hold me tight
For you, my love, even fate I’ll fight
For now, I know, what’s wrong from right
‘Twas you, who made, me see the light

If you, read this, and you are moved
And see, that time, has doubtless proved
Then let, your fear, of me be removed
(Oh Lord, don’t let, her be unmoved!)

I beg, of you, just one more chance
Please join, with me, life’s joyous dance
I’ll fill, your life, with wild romance
And care, and love, you hereforth hence…

Friday, September 23, 2005

Good and Evil: Born or made?

"It matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishments the scroll. I am the master of my fate; I am the captain of my soul." - Piers Anthony, On A Pale Horse, quoted from the poet William Henley.

I have done a lot of things in my life. Some of which I am proud of, and some of which I am not. Some of which I’d love to shout it from the mountain tops, and talk about to my loved ones, and others which I’d rather have buried in the deepest dungeons, never to see the light of day.
I wish I could be as steadfast as William Henley and say that everything that I have thus far done in my life has been without coercion or oppression, but that is sadly not true. I try as much as possible to be the master of my fate and the captain of my soul, but that too, is sadly not true. What then is left? It is a predicament that afflicts every single one else. Our choices in life are buffeted in three different directions, one of which is never under our control, another seldom under our control, and the third, fully under our control.

Yes, I am approaching the topic tangentially, but it does lead rather nicely (I hope!) into what I want to say: That our choices in life may not truly be choices, for they can be forced unto us by how we were birthed, and the circumstances with which we make our choice. Thus are the three directions: birth, circumstances, and free will.

Let us start with birth then. How can birth affect our choices? Picture the baby born with a clubfoot, or a cleft lip, or a skin disorder, or Down Syndrome or any number of other physical afflictions that occasionally crop up. Anything that can mark a baby as "different" or "unusual" may well limit its choices for the rest of life. Worse still, the infamous extra Y Chromosome argument, whereby any male who is born with an extra Y Chromosome is destined to be a criminal. Wouldn’t his choices in life be dictated? Or consider a baby born with AIDS. His choices in life will be constrained not by the breadth of choices, but by the duration of life with which he is able to make his choices, no?

Take next the influence of circumstances on our choices. I choose to buy a solid gold Rolex. Would I be able to make good my choice? No, because I am poorer than a church mouse. (Erm, does anyone out there really know how much a church mouse earns per annum? Perhaps a slice of cheese every time it genuflects?) I choose to marry the woman of my dreams. Can I? Not if she is already attached or married to someone else. So once again, my choices are constrained.
So how can we then exercise free will? The doctrine of free will in Christianity is one of the most hotly debated in the world. Unfortunately, while I fiercely cling to my concept of free will, and the independence afforded therefore, I reluctantly agree that in life, there are actually really precious few choices that are not dictated in some measure by physiological, chemo-mental or circumstantial factors. Yes, when we were created, God did give us the ability to think freely, and choose freely. But He also constrains us (some may say He guides us) by our environment, and ourselves.

Just like everything else in life, do make your choices wisely. It perhaps may be the last choice you can ever make.

Hello to a Piers without peer

My my my... It has been a pretty long time since I've written something new. Well, one of the reasons is because I've had my nose buried in a series of books that I once read when I was pretty young (and therefore did not know how my life paradigm was like). Now, I'm a little older, and by a stroke of good fortune, I managed to get my grubby little hands onto the entire series. Some of you may remember, I mentioned the series in an earlier post. The series is by Piers Anthony: the Incarnations series.

My next few (actually not just few lah, MANY!) posts will be discourses and rambling thoughts on what he wrote. There will be a LOT of posts actually, because I took to flagging all those bits I felt would be nice to write about, and my books are now starting to look like Post-It porcupines.

So, to Mr Piers Anthony, if you are reading this, it is not my intention to plagiarise. Treat it as free publicity if you will, but then again, I know through your writings and your Author's Notes that you've had more than enough publicity anyway. So treat it as a tribute from me to you, for your writing has truly made me think.

Wednesday, September 07, 2005

Janice, get your head out of the sand!

I have just been given a "lesson" in the virtues of generalisation. I am writing once again, about my "favourite" writer in The New Paper, one Miss Janice Wong. And the article in question is that which appeared in the 28th Aug issue of the said tabloid.

In a nutshell, Janice laments the state of both males and females in Singapore. In other words, within one little commentary that looks like it will barely touch the 400-word crossbar, she succeeds in insulting every single thinking adult in Singapore (and across the world, for she doesn't really confine her comments to the people in our little red dot). I take umbrage in so many points she makes in her article, that I’m frankly at a loss as to where to start.

Firstly, she makes the dual observation that women are a) fearful of rejection, and b) clingy. As far as I can see, the people who are fearful of rejection are not just the women. They are the people. I mean, you ever met a guy who is not fearful of rejection too? And the problem is that for guys, the chances of rejection can be so much higher. Many guys I know would feel flattered if a lady were to walk up to them and ask for a date. Even if we didn’t feel like it, we would try to let her down gently and reject her in the nicest way possible. How does a female reject a guy on the other hand? You ever had a woman stare at you as if you were a square egg or JaJa Binks? I have… And it’s not an experience I care to repeat, thank you. And trust me, I’m not the only one.

Clinginess (the spell check doesn’t seem to have this word, so I am inventing it here…) on the other hand is, as far as I can see, more of a female trait than a male’s. The problem is, I really don’t look at clinginess as a problem. Yes, we guess can joke about women being koalas (you know, those cute little furry creatures that if given a chance, will cling onto your back and never let go), but hey, I don’t think women are really as bad as all that. In a truly reciprocally loving relationship, the men can be as clingy as the women; and that I feel, is actually a good thing if not carried to extremes. And letting your imagination run wild is totally different from being clingy (a distinction sadly lacking in Janice’s article).

But the phrase that irritates me the most is when she writes, "But there are very few eligible single men in Singapore – I can testify under oath on that. On the rare instance when I meet one, I want it to work very much. I am willing to make concessions." What the fuck?! Very few eligible single men in Singapore? And she can testify under oath to that? How can you testify under oath to something that is plainly so subjective? And how does she define eligible anyway? What does she need? Face like Brad Pitt, hair like Beckham, body like Tom Cruise, intellect like Tommy Koh and money like Bill Gates? Sheesh. Look all around you… What is eligible not eligible to you Janice, is probably eminently eligible to many other fine ladies out there, who may not be as pretty or as erudite as you, but who are also more charming and not as cynical as you are.

And Janice goes on to say that she wants it to work. She is willing to make concessions. Note the word concessions. I just want to say to her: Are you bargaining now? You concede to one thing and perhaps he’ll concede to another? If you are going to view your relationship as such a counter-counting game, then it is small wonder that all your past relationships have been failures.

If any of you readers who have stumbled upon my humble blog also read The New Paper on Sunday, you would know that a thumbnail sized colour photo of herself always accompanies Janice Wong’s column. In all fairness, by what I see of her looks, and in her writing skills, I have to admit that under these two yardsticks, she is an eminently eligible lady. But Janice will have to learn that the world does not revolve around her; and that if she is going to wait for a guy meet ALL her expectations, and then to totally love her before she is willing to even consider loving him back, then I am afraid that she will be doomed to single-hood forever.

Janice, don’t make yourself out to be a bra-burning male bashing fem-libber. All those that I know die young, bitter and alone.
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