elite uncaring face

haven't heard it said that way before, preceded by "get out of my...", and from an elite 18-year old from naturally an elite jc with an elite mp father who defends her point of view (but mitigates her harsh tone by way of concession). glad to hear that the insufferables haven't skipped any generation at all, quick to pass unthinking judgement, an intolerance for alternative viewpoints, a brash tone stemming from the unshakeable assumption that one's opinion must be indisputably correct, and a clear disdain for the hoi polloi.

some bloodlines should be left to peter out ingloriously.

(the straits times, 24 october 2006 for the article - it's a must read)

atherosclerosis

in this day and age everyone's been pretty well-warned as to the dangers of LDL and cholesterol deposits in arteries at what not. once again ironic that something necessary for survival (manufacture of hormones, cell membranes, vitamin metabolism) we either accumulate too much of, are unable to process effectively, or hoard in ways that hinder other areas of life.

the starkness of this irony in materialistic pursuits, emotional pursuits, achievement pursuits is too obvious: too much of a good thing - up to and not including workaholism, dotage, affluence, obsession et al. it's a fifty-fifty chance of not dying from a heart attack or stroke, fifty-fifty all these pursuits will bring us happiness and contentment.

this has made us soft on the outside, and hard on the inside.

codes 3 - doing your own thing

on the other hand, minding-your-own-business-ness; the trope of individuation in the face of norms and mores; testing and renegotiating social and cultural boundaries; the blurring of private taste and public self-expression; all leading to the expectation that the accept-me-for-who-i-am actualisation (maslow's to blame) justifies itself as more central than anything else: the self-definition paradigm.

codes 2 - adherence

motivated by some underwritten idea of fairness (which i admit from c s lewis' principle of moral objectivity), sometimes manifesting itself as not letting someone get away with what everyone else lawfully abides by, or permitting no exception, because of some abstract notion of maintaining a form of cohesiveness of outloook, or the impetus for an overarching structure of order to scaffold all behaviours interconnectedly so that all actions have their place, or even a harmony of sentiment driven by the discomfort at the jarring and out-of-place (literally the chinese expression that what is observed does not sit well with the eye): these express the paradigm of adherence.

social codes

granting that there are of course rules of conduct, both codified and unspoken, for workplaces, educational institutions, public venues, etc, it still is surprising, and often annoying, how there'll always be a party which will impose more control than stipulated, and others who will decry any form of rigorous interpretation of such strictures.

at a workplace, some will tut-tut at the slightly bared midriff, the shorter skirt; the student is stereotyped by his or her need to always push boundaries of shoe colour and hairstyle; hugging/kissing/petting in trains/parks/cinemas; private nudity at a heartland hdb home with undrawn curtains: some people get genuinely upset by what they see as a transgession of social and behavioural norms, and some don't care. some want more rules, some fewer.

no point telling one group to be less anal, or the other to buck up. more on this.

the timed exam

the least pleasant part of any educational process, involving extensive and tedious rote preparation, anticipation of an environment and a framework quite unlike anything realistic, acquisition of specific skills of focus, analysis, pace, coherence, among others, held together by a certain mental and emotional disposition. not unlike the actual competition event in a sport - its nearest equivalent.

funny how the artificiality of it all, its ceterus paribus-like quality is desired as a means of most accurately assessing ability. no other condition is more clinical and devoid, more reductive of man as comparative performance engine.

success

barring providence, fortune or whim of fate, most success comes from having put in the requisite effort, time, investment etc in order to produce the desired result. bodybuilder pumps iron 3 hours a day, takes his steroids, sticks to a bland chicken breast diet; top-notch lawyer puts in 16-hour work days, schmoozes with the right set, stabs and connives for opportunities up the ladder; all-distinction student slogs all day, reads only the most arcane of theory textbooks, joins olympiads, and so on and so on.

here's a perspective: looking at success as undesirable because it would entail becoming the kind of person one might loathe to be, or doing the things one might abhor, in order to be in that position of success. so rather than admiring the buff, trim musculature of the erstwhile bodybuilder, one pities how such a major part of his life has gone down the drain in achieving something of such inconsequence.

to have wasted one's life becoming powerful, rich, beautiful, smart, to have wasted it becoming successful, is a horror and a tragedy.

minority report

quite vindicated when i discovered oscaraustin noticed as well that the protesters in town for the world bank / imf conference et al who were deported were traced via their cellphone signals.

remember these aren't local handphones. which means they were on the watchlist even before they arrived. i would have expected such scrupulous security for suspected terrorists, but activists?

remember also they hadn't done anything yet. they were disbarred based on what it was assumed they would do. 'precrime', in the words of philip k dick. four million smiles only for those with agreeable intent.

theft

an ex's momentarily unattended wallet was pilfered right in front of her at the airport check-in counter, five years back i had to fill in a column in a police report for a shoplifting student, more recently a hobby hangout had an audacious hit of missing product, to top it all i know a purported klepto.

it's hardly about need and lack of course, not at this day and age. so i've often tried to imagine the impulse that drives the desire to take what isn't one's own (and here i speculate only about the opportunistic, not the premeditated): i figure an overwhelming craving, a lust or coveteousness of some sort, just like anyone would regularly have for, say, food when aromas trigger, or window shopping for a shopaholic, but either without the necessary moral restraint or the blocking to override such conscience, or sometimes the intentional ignoring of such control, and finally a possibly addictive adrenaline rush not found even in the most stimulating of normal activities and it's resultant endorphin release, like a drug.

it's a potent cocktail.

dressing one's age

finally it's happened. been expecting it for a while, thought it was only a matter of time. colleague (who's quite a few years younger than i am by the way, and wearing a long-sleeved shirt and pleated work pants) said i should dress my age. too young grunge punk. attire: black bradstreet noseferatu tee, boot cuts, orange-blue basketball nikes, one-inch oxidised silver ear post, random leather and metal bracelets, random rings both left and right. age: thirty six going on.

i sometimes privately think his point is valid. peter pan syndrome? you judge.

work - can't or won't

topic came up from an article in yesterday's papers and due to a harried individual having to work the last few weekends: we often say we are unable to do something, like meet a friend for lunch, spend time on the phone catching up, take half a day off, spare some energy for an outing, because we have work commitments. we fulfil our responsibility to work first; we often believe it is on behalf of loved ones that we bring home the bacon; we hope for future gratification that we endure present hardship; in other words, we can't.

or is it that we won't? our value is already defined by who we are at work; our success as a person is less measured by how good a friend or spouse we are than by how much we've achieved professionally; our fulfillment is sublimated over more instances at work than socially. work is us.

appreciation

at least it's redemptive that i've learnt to restrain my cynicism on select occasions. maybe i should rephrase that since evidently that came out, er, cynical. i sing my national anthem once a year (and no more), wholeheartedly, for myself, to declare on whose side i stand. for a few hours on christmas day i actually, transubstantiatively, imbibe both religiously and socially things due to God and man.

and today i believe these students are truly appreciative of what i do, and, more significantly, i believe for a moment that what i do truly matters to them in some way. and this is enough belief sustenance for the rest of the year.

disenfranchisement

sometimes i don't know whether to encourage such disillusionment with sympathy or complaint, or whether to encourage stoicism or even optimism in view of prevailing circumstances. since disenfranchisement (usually about work, political sentiment, people in general and particular, the 'system') typically manifests as a railing against status quo, and since typically i tend to agree with such attitudes, i'm inclined to compensate, maybe over-compensate, by detecting my biased negativity first. to read that onto others though, is probably unwarranted.

so far i merely refrain after voicing said opinion. hopefully silence mitigates itself.

ex

an ex emails after a very long hiatus. general well-wishing and concern for being. precis edition of past x years of life. how's things?

pleasantness of surprise, triggering of memories, speculation of current state, indulgent contemplation of past, wistful musing, tinge of regret, genuine interest in well-being, some curiosity, amorphous feelings and peripheral distractness for the rest of the day.

too much reaction derived out of too little consequence. but that's what the past will do to you.

bullying

seemingly dusty phenomenon most thought of in association with corners of schoolyards and raggings of pre-teen recalcitrants.

but surprisingly prevalent even in higher institutions of education, at the workplace, or even indeed at home, manifesting as some sort of moral ganging up against an individual earmarked for his or her difference in thought, opinion or action, or some sort of arm-twisting from one in a superior position over the subordinate. detected because of its obvious purpose: the put-down, the undermine, the deflation, the crush - all person-directed.

power.

subway in school

this came up, the subway sandwich vendor in an actual school canteen, my two conversationalists decrying such a move as creating a situation of class distinctions. it's makes the poorer kids feel bad that they are unable to as freely spend the pocket money they don't have on what is more of a luxury item than the rest of the tuckshop fare or be left out of the social cliques that comfortably make no distinction between subway and fishball noodles. school, at least, should construct an environment which minimises this scenario as much as possible, since already they suffer the comparisons of pencil cases, bags, shoes and other such objects of status.

it surprised them that i suggested that the poorer kid might feel insulted by the impetus to 'protect' him from this big bad unfair world or to think him unable to afford such just because he cannot maintain the lifestyle, that the aspirational nature of the choice as a pleasure to be indulged in occasionally or discretionally is meaningful for such a child, or that he'd want to feel a sense of belonging to social circles which are already exclusive without preemptive ostracism.

flirting

much vaunted, this buzz. needs to happen only with the tentative, the unfamiliar. knowledge defeats it utterly, of course. on the other hand, the merest hint or thought of some light, casual, near insignificant exchange can be pleasurable or stimulating, almost refreshingly so.

we know how the mind works in this regard concerning novelty et al, and we should know better than to mistake it for the real thing. all the same, it satisfies a certain sliver of our psyche. let me wager the metaphor of having banquet proportions of dishes and dinners, feasting at mealtimes of one's choosing ... and yet still undiminished in one's desire for the aroma of food.

the smell's the thing.

ennui

hard to shake off, this inability to do much else, to engage intellectually in the content ideas in one's work (a few months ago i was voraciously devouring these philosophy books the moment i got them), to adjust physically my environs (a bit less than passionate now over my verve for housework), to expand emotionally relationships necessary and obligatory (maintainence and cruise-control is all about i can manage), in short, a listlessness inured by the mundane. (no irony the console game that occupies my time is entitled oblivion.)

happy first birthday

hell is being childless at a children’s birthday party. said party was replete with pairs of over-anxious parents in various stages of zealousness, comparing infant formulas, toddler speech patterns, the relative merits of accessible attire and accoutrements, toys and books leading up to pre-school educational systems. lest one be accused of antipathy against infants (more than a fair share were carried, hugged, fed and played with), let it be pointed out that even the most engaged non-parent in such an scenario cannot but be marginalised in a flurry of feeding, fussing and family. redundant in identity.

i found employment as party video-cam operator.

difference

topic came up again - gay culture. so did my pet theory: that it's otherness that they're looking for, hence the need to define themselves differently, behave differently. drew the analogy to the feminist movement in claiming cultural space from the norm. so it isn't biology, nor upbringing, nor merely social factors, but political ones, self-empowerment et al.

simple thesis - difference begets identity.

powerlessness

felt especially with vested interest, when one cares about the situation one feels powerless to affect. seeing as we have a multitude of things we have no control over nor try to.

the sense of frustrated impotence however, rankles, because it combines both the desire for a better outcome, failing which a better attempt, failing which a better response, and the reluctance knowledge that what one does makes little or no difference, or that the difference wouldn't matter under any circumstance, or that one is unable to do that which one thinks would make a difference.

past, present and future

seventeen year old asked if i was concerning with old age based on what this blog seemed to revolve around or project in its undercurrents. the answer was not at all, true because i hardly live days looking ahead whether anticipating or fearing what is to come. while this position avoids dread, i suspect it sacrifices hope. if anything i'd confess to being preoccupied with things past than things future, and further admit to that being both a failing and an indulgence. and i'd like to believe that living in the present is a harmonious equilibrium i've managed to attain.

now is a good place to be.

friendships

man turns forty. life's midpoint, perfect for looking janus-like, forward and back. man throws birthday party. a host of friends arrive, wish him well, presents, food, drinks all round. no one is merely polite, everyone meant to turn up. old friends make the effort, newer friends make the effort. everyone is happy, man is happy.

it's a good measure of a person's worth - genuine friendships. i'd argue against success, wealth, fame etc as indicators. a man makes things count when he makes them count for people.

lack of sleep

this cotton-headedness, caused say, hypothetically, by watching some physically fit adults navigating a stitched leather ball across a rather large well-kept lawn, in lieu of slumber, is of course both retrograde and inopportune to general professional well-being, and perhaps to overall interaction with life as well. such lack of productivity is usually uncountenanced, although one can make a case for the paradoxically discerning quality of such a state of mind. such a mind chooses to ignore the unimportant, distances all that is not urgent, disengages all but the most pressing of emotions, relegates wants and fulfils only needs, prioritises well and wisely, and basically watches the rest of the day like one would of the television, from the best angle and position, critically and exclusively, and with appropriate toilet breaks. yawn.

rodent

the more adventurous of the robo rodents made a break for the wild beyond (in this case past the dining table) from an uncapped tunnel exit. too many less-than-human-hand-sized nooks and crannies, piles of domestic jetsam, further-than-torchlight-range shadows made chasing it down impossible and luring it out the only sensible option.

said rodent was found late at night making a beeline for sunflower-seeds-and-water bait, putting paid to the notion of brains over brawn, book over sword, cunning over effort, idea over action, and all other crises of will to power.

service

service is dead. this is not merely a lament for the lack of service standards in this country, nor the disdain for domestic help. i mean the belief in the true dignity of service, which espouses the notion of a higher calling, an attainment of one's purpose in aid of others, encompassing patience and dedication and reserve. the english butler (but not the comedic stereotype), the giri-bound retinue of a daimyo, the acolyte.

again, not that some people today do not serve others with satisfaction or duty, but, back to belief, the unyielding, unwavering sense of committment to an abstract, the recognition of its nobility, the rigorous restraint of self to the betterment of another - we lost the ideal when we threw out the colonial, mistaking the one for the other.

old man diet

just been told i've been eating old man food, or at least, that my food preferences are heading down that way. consider: teochew porridge specifically with stewed duck neck, backside, bill and feet, fish head of any species (especially when i consider the rest of the fish as remnant to be chucked, like walnut shells or watermelon rinds, in order to get to the head), wild boar meat in jelly (sometimes pork jelly, pork knuckle jelly, or aspic for the uninitiated), chilli preserved tofu (the porridge thing again), stewed pork (with ginger, with black vinegar, with chinese buns, leg or belly, or any other preparation), fish soup with bittergourd, etc.

my defence is the homogeneity of plebian food in the country, driving me to find novel tastes which are still local staples as opposed to either gourmet dishes or foreign cuisine.

phlegmatic

difficult to empathise now sometimes what gets people boiling, critical, fanatic, yearning, contrite or any extreme of emotion or desire. wonder if it has to do with age (the heyday in the blood is tame) but it does seem awfully hard to work oneself up into a singing idol frenzy or cheer at a well-scored goal, or to get road-rage agitated at inconsiderate and sometimes downright dangerous cars, or to feel guilty about neglect of responsibility or about white/black/grey lies, or to tirade at the "system", whatever that may be, or to get too horny or lusting the way it felt at seventeen.

not very friendly, this.

language & communication

anecdotally again, it has been observed that it not just the english language, but the mother tongue languages that are also in decline. one would have thought, like in the past, that a person would be strong in one and weak in the other, affirming the belief that we can only truly master one language. today, it seems that language use is suffering as an overall entity.

paradoxically then, in a world where communication is key to accomplishing almost anything at all, linguistic proficiency has taken a backseat. but then again, perhaps even competency isn't needed for such activity. theorists who believe though, that language determines cognitive facility, are worried. put simply, if we can't talk properly, we become stupid.

decline of english

whilst anecdotal factors cannot be discounted: lack of grammar teaching in school, rise of the internet, sms speak, etc, it seems from a pragmatist viewpoint that language proficiency has simply devolved to the lowest common denominator in terms of usage. in other words, good english isn't acquired or used because good english is not necessary in this society - it is neither needed to communicate with anybody in this country, nor needed to understand the majority of things to be read or watched or viewed, nor even needed for the majority of occupations. it remains to be acquired for its own sake, which is why it has attained perjorative connotations in some circles, and used as a discrimator of status or class in others - a kentang outcast or a linguistic tai-tai. both zeroes on the desirability scale. any wonder then?

english teachers

this comes a little late in response to our education minister's point on the perceived decline in english, the could-be-better language proficiency of local teachers, the hiring of native english speakers, and j devan's perceptive note that the elder devan and others of his time spoke and wrote a much more perfect english despite not having gone to the uni: standards have declined even in the last ten years among the young people i've come in contact with, much less across generations; the supposedly more adept users of the language - teachers, broadcast and print journalists - display a level of usage more cringeworthy precisely because they are what should be our remaining bastions.

more on this tomorrow.

enough

while i fundamentally agree that 'enough' cannot be quantified, it irks me that it is very hard to tell when 'enough is enough'. hard to tell when one has gone to far, or taken something to excess (in order to restrain or withhold). hard to tell for oneself when one has 'had enough' of something or somebody (in order to draw the line).

until it happens.

it seems to me the demarcating line between inaction and action, passivity and provocation. i don't like it when it can only be identified in retrospect, because it gives us no guard, no forecast against what is precisely an inexorable turning point.

house

friend's selling his house. i'm buying mine. he's undoing. i'm redoing. he's making financial plans. i'm making design plans. took the easy way out the last time, because i gave up the house to give up the hassle. but escape is not always an option for the responsible, the obligated, the weary, nor the wise.

this once-more-into-the-breech activity makes me extra-vigilant of my own motives (both energy and ease of escape), and i can only avow to be wiser in the replay.

gossip

granting the heinousness of all evils of gossip, ranging from true personal spite and malice, suasion of political manipulation, self-braggadacio, blackballing of innocent and guilty alike, it accomplishes one crucial element more effectively, often more intrinsically, than all other forms of interpersonal communication. thanks to the conspiratorial nature of its compact, it makes friends of enemies, equals of heirachies, bypasses gender, race and age, all joining together in common speculation, stabbing and slander, to the satisfying shared cathartic pander of self-righteous pronouncements.

so when we're bitches, then all men are brothers.

needy sick (belated mother's day)

seems almost no one, not even among the resolutely strong nor staunchly independent nor vehemently denying, can resist a bit of attention when sick. some exteriors might seem like gruff reluctance, others outright rejection, (the other extreme being wanton neediness) but still all sick people like to be told to stay in bed, or take their medicine, or be excused from a bit of our daily responsibilities, or receive a bit more concern and understanding for what amounts often to a little secret self-pity.

it's our mothers' fault really.

watchmen

reminded of the old latin saw - quo custodiet ipsos custodies. who guards the guardians, or more strikingly, who watches the watchmen. having long been mistrustful of authority in general, to a fault, and almost to paranoia (as marked by a slight persecution complex), i suspect this deep-seated belief only motivates me to want to be in a position in which i cannot be 'watched'.

accompanying ingrained habits include always looking out for close-circuit cameras whenever i step into a building or room, always sitting with my back towards a wall, with full view of the rest of the room (i have shane to thank for that), and now having a sixth sense when eyes are trained on me.

the best recourse, obviously, is to become a watcher.

mind blank

somewhat vexing, stretches in a day given over to brain idleness, running on idle so to speak. Non-events such as waiting for something, inconsequential meetings, talks etc that require attendance but not participation, any form of background music, tv, even conversation relegated to instinctive phatic communion.

seems unfruitful, and triggers cognisance of meaningful things not yet done, or crucial contentment to be had elsewhere elsewhen. helplessness. perhaps this is the cause of most impatience.

not the same as purposeful idleness though.

flattery

ex-colleague messages to tell me my name and work are rather well-known (i suppose in the relevant circles) and well-liked (an even smaller circle perhaps). sufficient also for her to want to use some of said work in pc class. had to thank her for the compliment, but not entirely sure what to make of that.

apparently some people take to flattery, genuine or otherwise, very well. others display the english or asian reserve. or perhaps we can attribute this hesitation to ruined childhood and other low self-esteem or harsh perfectionist cliches. i think the optimal solution is graciousness to self - but i'm no expert on that, so.

crash

it's finally happened. somewhere between friday and monday the notebook’s decided its had enough. i lose three weeks of work (estimated) from the last backup. i lose a couple of half-written pieces i (surely) cannot recreate. i lose my ability to get to where i want and need to google my way around. i blame microsoft and their opaque and unnecessarily arcane windows os. i worry about items lost, i worry about hours lost, i worry about life lost.

i sit at a naked office terminal where people walk past behind me every two minutes. i keep looking over my shoulder, althought all i'm doing is typing out a report. i can’t do any real work on this desktop, nor any other. i can’t put things away neatly. it’s as if I permanently lost my house keys (with no blacksmith nor windows i can smash), can’t get access to my own home and have to borrow clothes, eat out and rent a hotel room.

i need a shower in my own bathroom.

hiatus

missed a whole month. busy. an excuse? conceivably sometimes our lives run too busy to express a thoughtful thought or a opined opinion?

here's a challenge: record all the words spoken in a given day. sort them by some arbitrary categories of choice. what proportion contains something meaningful said? is the majority an overload of information, question, rhetoric and complaint? is it impulsive judgemental comment, or cogency of thought? (i spoke only three words related to anything remotely connected to human emotion yesterday. i counted.)

worse for writing. wrote down anything at all today? (i signed my name twice yesterday. also wrote two paragraphs of a work proposal.)

(and already these last twenty minutes busywork presses.)

self-justification (self-pity 2)

a little additional epiphany as to why people resort to the 'you don't understand me' justification for doing what they do (this was triggered by a wanna-be artist defending her theme of morbidity by saying 'people don't have to understand it' and 'it's my way of expressing something different') : so long as there is a perceived lowest common denominator of thought or sentiment about an issue (in this case, an assumed mainstream taste in art), the attempt to do something perceived as contrary to the prevailing ethos supplies both the self-justification and individualism impulse, as well as the identity and definition-by-alienation need.

of course lowest common thought begets lowest individual response.

dredging

i'm ignorant whether anyone has studied the correlation between the frequency, intensity and variety of nostalgic thought, self-reflective remonstrance or affirmation, indulgence of memory and current mental health, outlook and critical disposition.

some people think back all the time and these thoughts inform their present behaviour; others are oblivious to such pessimistic dredging, limiting their recall to shared good times when amongst a bunch of long-time-no-see friends. this spectrum fascinates?

immediacy

it's hard to write immediately. nothing within triggers a wordsworthian outpouring of spontaneous emotion or thought. it's the same whether an empty html box waits to be filled in, or whether there is a writing assignment to submit or poem to create. neither is immediacy enabled nor procrastination abated.

and it never comes out right the first time anyway.

blessed are the ranters and ravers, for they shall achieve wordiness of blog.

online tests

damn they are addictive: random brutal love dreamer aka man-child; extraversion intuition feeling perception aka promethean aka phlegmatic; modern cool nerd; golden retriever; death at 77 from cancer / heart-related conditions; the wit; sauron; etc.

this list will be updated occasionally.

teachers' blogs

yesterday's paper raised the issue, commenting on the voyeuristic interest students would have of their teachers' chronicles, and the need for said educationists to self-censor by virtue of their position and influence.

as if we didn't have enough self-censorship in the first place, but i understand the need for a public persona since we all maintain one, so it's not as if we're taking the extra trouble to do so on a blog. let public rant and vent space be exactly that. once observed, there should be no fear of discovery or repercussion from either direction.

chores

three responses encompass all: avoidance, anal-retentiveness, and as necessary evil. i suspect most people fall under the third category, or play mind games to convince themselves of its value in therapy, to motivate themselves through house-proudness, to grumble as catharsis.

while some have given thought to the value of the mundane, perhaps it's meaningful to contemplate the value of drudgery as well. consider.

tears of joy

literally, buckets. haven't seen up close before. girl scored a b for literature. said it meant more to her than her other subjects with clearly better grades. it's her payoff for all the hard work and the dramatic improvement over her lacklustre erstwhile performance.

said she'd like to be a tale told to students of posterity. so for what it's worth, there we go.

and for what it's worth to me, you're welcome.

culmination

results out today. par for the course. i'm persuaded in the light of comparative weakening of performance from others that maintenance is positive achievement. that's good to know.

so the cycle ends. the inevitability of feeling that slight sense of loss and futility of action accompanies. i ride the trough and hope it doesn't make me more distant than i'm already becoming.

brokeback et al

i suspect the reason why i haven't seen a good heterosexual romantic movie for a while is because the formula for such conflict has become trite, stale and possibly overdone. hence its reduction to the pop romantic comedy genre.

it used to be that race, class, religion or simply the age-old difference between man and woman were sufficient to create the necessary angst, tenderness, bittersweetness, elevation and sacrifice for a powerful tale. now it seems we need gender identity to generate an equivalent or greater compelling force of emotion. it's a matter of dosage apparently.

self-pity

self-pity and self-defined alienation is admittedly one of the easiest and most-resorted-to forms of definition of identity. the statement "you don't understand me", or the even more effective "nobody understands me" serves as self-justification for one's actions, an exit strategy in a losing argument, a holier-than-thou option in a powerplay, and ultimately a way of saying how different, special or unique one is compared to everyone else around. its irrefutability makes it always subjectively true for the speaker and its very act of saying the establishment of an alienating mindset and a position of identity. how convenient.

lupercalia

i understand people were trying to make their erstwhile celebrations special, meaningful and unique. a swanky restaurant outing and the full complement of roses and chocolates sufficed for many. wealthier others tried events on roof gardens, glass lifts, underwater, in a plane, etc etc. snootier others eschewed the commercialism and created their own picnic, home-cooked, diy experiences. contrarian others celebrated the day before, or are planning to tonight. the rebellious remainder declared that they didn't care for such a festival.

everyone (apparently) reacted and responded. and so we perpetuate.

settling for

settling for, though, is always perceived as a negative. it implies not being able to get what one truly wants, and worse, that one has had to forego a choice, or even, give up a hope or dream.

and yet, this is what people constantly have to do, and console or justify to themselves that that's what reality is, not being to get what one truly wants (not the same as trying to get everything that one wants - which is simply greed).

and (at risk of facetious over-simplification) is the root cause of all pessimists, cynics, fatalists and their ilk.

aspiration

it seems we always want a car or house or wedding or other such material thing or experience that is just beyond our reach, and settle for something less - a compromise between desire and reality (and budget).

i suppose when it comes to aspiration, the human being is unlikely to hanker after something he can already attain - its desirability is intimately connected with its elevation. however, too high, and we don't lust after in any real sense, since it crosses over into fantasy or imagination.

the toyota man dreams realistically (a real oxymoron) of a beemer, not a ferrari.

addictiveness as morality

the postmodern sentiment of self as centre discards the moral notion of harm to self, so long as the self is gratified, and by extrapolation, harm to others. after all, in a closed system, self and other are negotiated in terms of win-lose.

when morality is thus subjectively defined, only addictiveness qualifies as a compass, since it diminishes one's further capacity for satisfaction (the more addicted, the less pleasure one derives from the same quantum). paradoxially, one does oneself wrong when self-serving addiction prevents the very gratification one seeks.

harm and addictiveness

moral compunction as regards harm is age old, whether the buddhist or christian variety ("do/don't do unto others .." et al). this can be transferred to measure self-harm as well, even after conceding the personal right to do what one wills to oneself, since pampering oneself with a bubble bath or with two tabs of ice can be valued differently.

addictiveness arguably can also be compared in terms of degree - how difficult to shake one's craving for the thing or to do without it completely, and how frequently and intensely needful and desirous that thing is to one's gratification.

yet.

addiction

moral evaluations of addictive substances and activities seem to be based on the often undifferentiated factors of potential harm (to user and society), and addictiveness. this lack of delineation works because a scale that places caffeine at one and crack at the other needs no elucidation, except for pernickety conservatives trying to decide whether to draw the line approving caffeine but not alcohol, or whether irresponsible behaviour begins from nicotine and upwards.

here’s a list of compulsions to consider and complicate: shopping, online-gaming, gambling, masturbation, food.

(and no, the difference isn't simply between the nature of objects versus actions (hence the last item))

arguments 2

in other words, arguments measure how much stake one has in the relationship via a process of accusation and blood-letting. with a smaller stake, one can respond more acrimoniously, more savagely, with the perverse assurance that the other party will hurt more than one will.

how much one’s point is worth defending, therefore, doesn’t depend upon the objective value or merit of the point of view since one always values one’s own point maximally and the other’s, inconsequentially. one defends one’s continual right to a dominant position.

when we observe that some arguments have no winners, we describe a situation where, because both parties have stake, any argument undermines one party’s standing with the other, with no consequent gain in position, but resultantly hampered in the ability to impose one’s self-perogative. only loss and losers left.

arguments

not convinced they're worth having. two (or more) parties enter believing they are in the right. seldom (if ever) do they end with one side acknowledging the error of their viewpoint (is there even such a thing as a point of view error?) more likely than not the process gets burdened by ad hominems and tu quoques and other fallacious sidetracks. the winner (again, if is there such a thing) is the one who displays more power to control, bully, blackmail and ignore, regardless of right and wrong.

the party with more to lose will always lose an argument.

charity

a colleague is about to run 30 hours non-stop to raise funds for charity, in the same inspired vein as overwrought charity shows no doubt. kind of like those 'keep-one's-hand-on-a-car-for-the-longest-to-win-it' competitions, but altruistic, as opposed to self-serving.

why anyone thinks these supposed self-sacrifical stunts beget a charitable response is a mystery. are we paying for their performance, thus demeaning the act itself? are their acts of excess supposed to prompt an excessive generosity on our part - in heartfelt tandem?

the irony of such self-glorification is glaring.