clvn

2007-04-13T18:45:00.000-07:00

this blog has moved. woot. If you browser doesn't redirect you immediately, please click here

2007-04-09T21:46:00.000-07:00

pardon the tarrying, I'm getting owned too much to blog much.

sigh, now that I've done all I set out to do - my failures belong entirely to me. As do my occasional victories.

I just need to study harder. As always.

in order of hair length

2007-04-07T18:34:00.000-07:00

2007-03-24T12:32:00.000-07:00

I'm road trippin baybee...

will update when I return to Berkeley on Wednesday night

the week before Spring Break

2007-03-19T14:23:00.000-07:00

It suddenly hit me today, how little time I have left in this semester. I'm going to go off for Spring Break, and when I return, there'll be but a month left. A month packed with midterms, finals and papers. Gah.

So I'll have to continuously remind myself of that sad fact in order to motivate myself to continuously work towards getting an awesome GPA. Continuously. I have nary any time to watch anime anymore and sleeping at 4a.m. is becoming a habit. A habit created by external forces, mind you. I rue my inadequate knowledge/appreciation of literature - I fear it'll cost me dearly this semester. Why oh why didn't I sign up for a different humanities breadth.

But still, I'm going with my class to see the world premiere of Phillip Kan Gotanda's play 'After the War' in San Francisco come Thursday. I hope it's good. Right after, my math oral exam in the afternoon. We have to go up to the blackboard, present some mathematical proofs and answer random questions on them. Sigh. And there's the annotated bibliography that I have to do.

I should get started on history research paper that's due at the end of the semester. Like, now.

Spring break should be fun though. I'm going on a roadtrip to SoCal with Roger and Will. Probably stop by Disneyland, Magic Mountain and the awesome beaches. I'm really excited. Hopefully, our Crossroads buddies will put us up. A camera would be so useful then. Especially since my w810i is still broken - I'll be bringing it home in the summer to get it fixed, 'cause the warranty's not valid here. My mom's sent off my old T610, I hope to get sometime this week.

There's something about not having a phone though, that is rather peaceful. Although I am constantly reminded that it is rather irresponsible and all, because of the way I have to inconvenience other people, not to mention myself. I don't feel its absence so acutely though, 'cause my social circle here is woefully small. Well, I guess that's something to rectify - when I have the time.

And the week I return from Spring Break, I'll have a physics midterm. Plus, I'll have to start on another Comparative Literature paper. Sigh, time is such an illusion. Everytime I get a little window where there is nothing immediately pressing, reality hollers out that in the big picture I have nothing. No, nothing at all.

And of summer? I'll be spending two thirds of it in a rented room in KL, at least, when I'm not at Astro trying to figure out how I can contribute to the company as a freshman. Absolutely delightful eh.

Time flies by. I'll be home soon. Till then.

kindness

2007-03-14T00:13:00.000-07:00

I slept at 4a.m.. I was supposed to wake up at at 7:30a.m. - but no, I didn't. Slept to through my alarm clock I did. Or rather, that program that gets iTunes to start playing random songs from my library at an appointed time while I still don't have a phone.

I awaken at 11:30a.m. to the rustling of my roommate getting his stuff from the room. And I'm like WTFBBQ o.O because Tuesday is when I have physics labs from 10-12. And missing labs puts some hurting to your grades. I hurriedly brush my teeth and wash my face, spray some cologne on to cover up my unwashed scent and jog to class.

I get there at 11:40a.m.. My GSI seemed rather startled, but told me he would stay back a little while for me. As I maniacally rushed to get my experiments done - thank God I'm never going to take another chemistry lab section again -, he starts recounting his tale of when he had arrived at a 3 hour final with only 5 minutes left as an undergraduate and his professor graciously gave him an extra hour. Kindness rubs off on people, I guess, and dwells in empathy.

I finish at 12:25p.m.. I seriously expected myself to finish by 12:15p.m. but I got somewhat stuck at the last question. For his part, my GSI was pleased that I had completed that 2 hour lab in 45 minutes. Then, I walk to Terrace Cafe - to get my customary chicken rice bowl and orange juice.

Perhaps it was all the rushing, or me just feeling tired lately - but as I lined up to pay for my meal, my plastic bottle of Minute Maid Orange Juice just slipped from my hands. Apparently, the bottle is flimsy enough that such a fall is enough to crack apart the cap. Half the contents of my bottle spilled unto the floor.

*Damn* I do like my orange juice. Plus, I sort of delude myself into thinking that drinking more of it will make up for my general dislike of fruits. I step up to pay for my meal, and o.O the lady at the counter has someone give me a new bottle of orange juice. Really made me smile. Last semester, I remember getting coffee and a bagel from that lady every other morning. I've grown too indolent to have such breakfasts any more.

p.s.

I watched Stephen Hawking lecture today. The Zellerbach hall was sold out, and as I hear, so was the Wheeler Auditorium where they put the overflow crowds. It was interesting perhaps, Stephen Hawking sounds like my MacBook, the sound profile 'Bruce' , and he made jokes. But I do wish there was a more dynamic lecturer-audience interaction and more technical material. I didn't learn anything new.

impulsive and extreme

2007-03-10T16:08:00.000-08:00

This morning, I woke up and looked at the mirror and realized - damn, the oil from my long hair is aggravating my acne. And fine, I've always wanted long hair I could tie up but not at the expense of my face. Wasn't a hard decision at all. And so I cut my hair, right after I got out of dragonboat practice.

So I dragged along Yiding, who had been saying that he wanted to cut his hair for the past two weeks. And we got our hair cut. I think he looks really different now. Mm hmm. Knowing me, I wasn't about to settle for middle ground - and was darned tempted to shave my head bald. But yeah, I've done that before. SO I decided to nearly shave my head ball and have the hair stylist cut patterns into my hair. My head as a canvas.

But I decided to be more prudent and not splurge $40 on a hair cut. So I opted for the Jonathan Ive look. Woot.

mo' money

2007-03-09T00:59:00.000-08:00

I cant recall how Math discussion got me and my friend talking about shares. I know at the end of it, he was telling me about his shares in Boeing going from $25 to $75 at some point in time. Y'know, when it became obvious that Airbus was having serious manufacturing problems, what more the political infighting. Poor German ex-Airbus employees. He's got shares in Lockheed Martin as well. Apparently, nuclear engineers like their tech companies.

But that got me thinking (more than I usually do), that I ought to get my money to work more for me. At least, I don't let it lie in a savings account, where it actually your money is lost to inflation despite your interest. No, my money is stuck in a CD (kinda like a fixed deposit) which gives me an interest rate of 4.31%.

Sure, I'm getting more returns on my money than many other college kids who couldn't care less - but still. I just detest the feeling I have that I'm not maximizing my resources. One of these semester, I'm going to take a finance class that deals with investing.

When I'm old and grey, I WILL be filthy rich.

footnotes in history

2007-03-05T22:27:00.000-08:00

I seriously need to boost my Comparative Literature grade. By any means possible.

Today, I had my History 30B midterm. Until now, my wrist is still sore from the speed at which I was writing then. History 30B is a class I'm rather fond off - which makes sense since I've always adored history. I still remember Pui Shen taunting me with the fact that the historical fiction section of the Borders in KL completely dwarfed anything Penang had to offer, back in 2005. Pui Shen, Pui Shen, I'll always remember you for that. Maybe my fiery palm of doom and I will visit you come summer.

Just joking.

Or was I? *Grins menacingly* Nah. Seriously. But if get less than an A- on this midterm, I'm going to switch my grading option for the class from letter grades to pass/not pass. It feels a bit like failure, like giving up - but I know my limitations, and the battles worth fighting. And that's a shame, because this class is the History of Science. *cue radiant light from above and 'aahs' from an unseen choir* Two of my favorite things together. I couldn't ask for much better a humanities breadth.

I always tell people that I loathe biology because of the rote memorization. Given my passion for history, that is evidently a convenient lie. Something that makes me look good - something that seems better than stating my lack of interest. It's all about delusion. And that's interesting, because I willfully struggle with my faith as I would rather live in despair than in delusion. Somehow people develop an opinion of me, one that I am most happy to encourage, that I am solely pragmatic and single-minded. Yet there is unmistakably the romantic within me, the one who would wish to witness Alexander hacking apart the Gordian knot, the crossing of the Rubicon, the Battle of Thermopylae, ad infinitum. Fun fact of the day: Muslims revere Alexander and in Malay, he is called Iskandar Zulkarnain. This, doubtlessly, comes from his Arabic name - Dhul-Qarnayn - which interestingly means 'the two horned one'.

But more than that, there is much to learn from history. Much more than stupid facts like when Newton said,"If I have seen further than others, it is by standing upon the shoulders of giants” he was slighting his contemporary, Robert Hooke, who was rather short. Yea, Newton was a pretty mean guy, what with Liebniz and all. More than bewilderment at how long Aristotelian ideas persisted. I realize that it is perfectly fine to be wrong. All too often, a - by our definition - 'correct' idea cannot be excepted before less 'correct' ideas have been elucidated and pursued.

Consider

It is very hard to remember that events now long in the past were once in the future.
- Maitland
History will absolve me.
- Fidel Castro

Happy people have no history.
- Leo Tolstoy

Men make their own history, but they do not make it just as they please; they do not make it under circumstances chosen by themselves, but under circumstances directly found, given and transmitted from the past.
- Karl Marx

What would prompt men to live with history on their backs? For some, it is the pair of wings that carry them, to the golden sphere of the sun. For some, it is the millstone that drives them to the ground. History is kind to few people. Cuvier, who was a shining examplar of scientific excellence in Napoleon's court, is now thought little of compared to Lamarck, whose prestige never approached that of his arch rival. Einstein didn't believe that nuclear energy could be harnessed for peaceful uses. But look at Carnot, who died an early death, filled with despair that the caloric theory he had based his life's work on seemed to utter nonsense - yet his work inspired a generation of engineers in later years.

Truly, it is exceedingly difficult to suppress any form of judgement when going through history. Everything seems so trivial, so utterly pointless and disgustingly simple. But when you are able to put on the glasses of one experiencing the Enlightenment - the world is permeated with radiant wonder. When I read about Darwin's 52 month long journey on the H.M.S. Beagle as a 22 year old Anglican minister-in-training. When I read about people administering electrical shocks to themselves with Leyden jars. When I read of journeys in the blistering cold of Lapland or in the mosquito ridden jungles of Indonesia. When I read of people spending their lives arguing for the truth. When I read of people throwing away their beliefs and their religion when science argues for the contrary.

History drops me down to my knees but I am most grateful for it. Because there is so much beauty in the chaos, in the haphazard search for truth. The wonder in the eventual return to rationalist, deterministic Cartesian arguments. And because it illuminates our souls, and our cultural heritage.

People say that Newton ended the revolution that Copernicus started. Science, in a way, is battle against our innate sense of self-importance. Something that pushes us towards existentialism. Before Copernicus, the earth was the center of the universe. Before Newton, man, chiefly white man, was firmly at the top of 'The Great Chain of Being' - a hierarchy of all life forms. And to Newton, there was the objection that natural selection had no concept of a 'final cause' *again, an anachronistic Aristotelian concept, google 'The Four Causes' or something* - no concept of a higher meaning. What arrogance it is to insist that life has to have a meaning. Because we as humans are so important, so significant as organisms?

In history, I recognize that the people I despise remain. The Greeks who had Socrates eat poison. The Church authorities who imprisoned Galileo. The mindless masses of the French Revolution who had Lavoisier executed.

I wish I were the person who wrote of Darwin's Bulldog, "Another account: Then the Bishop rose, and in a light scoffing tone, florid and he assured us there was nothing in the idea of evolution; rock-pigeons were what rock-pigeons had always been. Then, turning to his antagonist with a smiling insolence, he begged to know, was it through his grandfather or his grandmother that he claimed his descent from a monkey? On this Mr Huxley slowly and deliberately arose. A slight tall figure stern and pale, very quiet and very grave, he stood before us, and spoke those tremendous words — words which no one seems sure of now, nor I think, could remember just after they were spoken, for their meaning took away our breath, though it left us in no doubt as to what it was. He was not ashamed to have a monkey for his ancestor; but he would be ashamed to be connected with a man who used great gifts to obscure the truth. No one doubted his meaning and the effect was tremendous. One lady fainted and had to carried out: I, for one, jumped out of my seat; and when in the evening we met at Dr Daubeney's, every one was eager to congratulate the hero of the day."

And today, I rage against the opponents of stem cell research and demagogues who throw around the phrase, "playing God" all too easily. And against the Christian leaders who opposed a bill to vaccinate young girls against a common STD because "you cannot disobey God's rules without there being consequences."*paraphrase. Talk about Machiavelli in the church.

p.s. I'm going to be watching Yellowcard in April for $5. Woot. And I just downloaded Photoshop CS3 and will start working on a new layout. Any suggestions? I feel like trying for the china doll with blood running down as tears image I've always had. Or I can make MatLab slave over generating fractals.

the little things

2007-02-28T23:36:00.000-08:00

Darn, I am so stressed right now. What with trying to get my phone fixed and having my mother bug me incessantly over Grace. And E77 homework. It takes me forever to get my homework done - most of the time, I'm staring blankly at the screen wondering how I should write my code, and the rest of the time, I'm staring blankly at the screen wondering why my code doesn't work. And cursing silently. And eviscerating people in my head. I really need better anger management.

But at times like this, its nice to reflect on all the things that make life that much more bearable. The little things - the really frivolous but rather significant things. The things I never thought would make me smile at the oddest of times. The order is of no particular significance.

1. snacks to eat when I'm hungry at 2a.m.

2. the two 'One Piece' posters on my wall

3. cologne, when I wake up late and rush for class, and don't want to smell bad

4. my itsy bitsy fan, when I'm tired and sweating

5. the photo of my family in my wallet

6. steaming soba on a cold rainy day

7. the glorious sun when everywhere else in America is under snow

8. personal emails from friends back home

9. extremely frank, usually taboo, talks with floormates

10. honest and accepting small group members

11. solitary walks to church in the dark

12. reading magazines in the library

13. greeting/being greeted by random people in elevators

14. having people hold the door for me

15. realizing I'm never alone

16. having three blankets

17. learning esoteric facts in class

18. discussing self-worth

19. being confident

20. all the anime on DC++

21. scanlated manga

So many more - but I'm sleepy. Yawn.

Gimme someone to kill now

2007-02-26T21:33:00.000-08:00

Anyone who knows me will recognize my great love/obsession for tech toys, especially the ones that belong to me. So imagine my frustration when on Saturday afternoon I picked up my mobile phone to check the time and whoa, only an all-white screen greets me. For several times, I frantically remove the battery and power it on again - hoping that I will be greeted by that previously-annoying-but-now-so-endearing Sony Ericsson start-up screen. No luck there. I run a search on Google on known W810i technical issues and discover that there is actually a well documented phenomenon called the White Screen of Death (WSoD). So many forums. I browse through pages and pages of this shit for the entire afternoon and realize that there's nothing much I can do that doesn't involve dishing out money. Yes, I'm fucking stingy - so sue me. I Skype with my mom at 6:00 p.m. while concurrently using the Sony Ericsson Updater Service (SEUS) to get the software on my beloved phone, much good that did me. Fortunately, my parents didn't give me crap over my phone, I feel like a terrible son to often already.

So that was Saturday. I had a 7 page paper to write and I told myself I'd put this phone business off until Monday, when I would have handed in my paper. And yeah, I have a nice time writing a paper on whether this character in one of Borges' short stories is experiencing reality or is hallucinating. 'tis quite good stuff really - right up my alley. And then I go for an eight course Chinese New Year meal in Cupertino (home of Apple ^^) on Sunday night. I have a really swell time really, talking with (mostly) Singaporeans and getting to know other people. Yeah, I really need to go out and make more friends. This is unhealthy. And owh, you Malaysians, come to Berkeley lah.

And all the while, I was still so pissed that my mobile phone was not working.

So today i.e. Monday, since I had more free time, I got around campus and went to look for any retailers that could help me. It was a rainy day, and I forgot to check the weather forecast, which would have made me carry an umbrella. So I stopped by a Japanese place to get some beef soba. A steaming bowl of beef soba. Made me even take my glasses off 'cause the steam was condensing on them. And when I got out of the place, the rain had subsided somewhat. Owh blessed Japanese cuisine.

So yeah, got to a few retailers - none of them had any decent equipment and all referred me to the Sony Ericsson store, which I believe is in San Francisco. Blargh. And the Cingular guy told me that they would probably just flash my phone. Yeah. Anyway, I can flash my own phone. So I downloaded this piece of software from www.davinciteam.com and bought a log account for $12.99. Now, about the White Screen of Death again. It seems that the normal WSoD is a blinking white screen - and that is almost always fixed with a flash. Mine is a stable white screen, and flashing has less of a noteworthy track record with this case. But yeah, I flash my phone anyway, with help from the forums at www.expansys.com. It takes fucking forever. And guess what?

It doesn't fucking work. Yeah. Cool.

Fucking hell no. So right now I'll have to find a way to get my phone to San Francisco. Because I don't want to end this post on too much of negative note - my blog is way too emo anyway - I'll add that my phone randomly rang in class today. A tune that I had never heard before. In fact, I didn't even think it would be my phone until a friend pointed out that my pants pocket was lighted up. Which isn't necessarily a good thing, because that might mean that the instructions for my LCD screen to display stuff isn't getting relayed - hence only the white backlight. And yeah, Grace and I were assigned a seats at the same table last night. So here's a picture of me looking really flashy ^^

This speaks to me somehow

2007-02-23T17:43:00.000-08:00

My roommate, Cory, was watching this video on YouTube. It made tears well up in my eyes.

I have to block out thoughts of you so I don't lose my head
They crawl in like a cockroach leaving babies in my bed
Dropping little reels of tape to remind me that I'm alone
Playing movies in my head that make a porno feel like home
There's a burning in my pride, a nervous bleeding in my brain
An ounce of peace is all I want for you. will you never call again?
And will you never say that you love me just to put it in my face?
And will you never try to reach me? it is I that wanted space

Hate me today
Hate me tomorrow
Hate me for all the things I didn't do for you

Hate me in ways
Yeah ways hard to swallow
Hate me so you can finally see what's good for you

I'm sober now for 3 whole months it's one accomplishment that you helped me with
The one thing that always tore us apart is the one thing I won't touch again
In my sick way I want to thank you for holding my head up late at night
While I was busy waging wars on myself, you were trying to stop the fight
You never doubted my warped opinions on things like suicidal hate
You made me compliment myself when it was way too hard to take
So I'll drive so fucking far away that I never cross your mind
And do whatever it takes in your heart to leave me behind

Hate me today
Hate me tomorrow
Hate me for all the things I didn't do for you

Hate me in ways
Yeah ways hard to swallow
Hate me so you can finally see what's good for you

And with a sad heart I say bye to you and wave
Kicking shadows on the street for every mistake that I had made
And like a baby boy I never was a man
Until I saw your blue eyes cry and I held your face in my hand
And then I fell down yelling "Make it go away!"
Just make a smile come back and shine just like it used to be
And then she whispered "How can you do this to me?"

Hate me today
Hate me tomorrow
Hate me for all the things I didn't do for you

Hate me in ways
Yeah ways hard to swallow
Hate me so you can finally see what's good for you
For you

Midterms oh midterms

2007-02-21T16:29:00.000-08:00

Once again, I'm at that darned time when studying becomes all I can think about and when it seems like my tasks are never ending. Perhaps that is true in a sense, but yeah, not a thought for today. And once again, I'm going to have to rescue my grade in a humanities class. I got a darned B- for my Comparative Literature paper. Boy do I utterly loathe literature now. But I rescued my Rhetoric grade last semester from that C+ first paper right *whimper*.

And woot, here are some lovely posters - I see them in random places and never seem to encounter the same one again. But whoa, thanks to my dear friend Steven, I now have the company's website and I can show you my personal favorites. In order.

By the way, the first part of the power quote is from Lord Acton. I've always liked that quote.

p.s. thank you so much Lynnie for the card.
*attacks with a hug*

going out

2007-02-18T12:49:00.000-08:00

So I decided to have some fun yesterday - and I went out to San Francisco with my roommates. The day started off wonderfully enough, 'twas so bright and sunny. 'tis winter in America and we have the glorious sun people, the glorious sun. The original plan was to have some pho (Vietnamese noodles) but since Kevin (Vietnamese boy) got himself filled with some junk food like minutes before, we decided the idea wasn't so appealing anymore. Thus, I mooted the idea of dining at 'In n Out', the best fast-food chain ever. The best.

The picture does nothing to tell of the succulent goodness that are 'In n Out' burgers. Which is quite a shame, because they are SO GOOD. Unfortunately, many of you will never know the truth of my words because not only does the chain not go out side America, it doesn't go outside California (with a few exceptions). It's 'privately owned, family mananged, and not franchised'. T-T

But yeah, it's really easy to get to San Francisco from Berkeley. All you do is hop on one of the subways and you're there within 30 minutes, without transit points and all. And the stations in San Francisco that I always choose to emerge from are in the oh-so-pretty parts of the town, with tall, slightly-old (pre-modernist glass and steel designs) buildings surrounding you. And if you choose to get off at the Powell street station, you come out next to Nordstroms (yaya, for shopping ^^)

And I gave into the shallow sport of ranking floormates based on their looks while waiting for the train to arrive. It started off when I chanced upon Beebe and Louel(he's gay, so its ok) ranking the guys on our floor. And it appears that on that criterion, I fare pretty well o.O And yeah, although nobody Top 3 ranking for the girls are the same, the general taste is well..pretty general. And all of that amused us for about five minutes, which was just perfect.

Train rides are really boring - I should have brought a book. Only that I wouldn't have wanted to be carrying book around for the entire day.

'In n Out' is close to the piers, so we took a short detour to the beach.

the golden gate bridge is in the background

It was such a sunny day - that as I sat eating my burger, I could feel sweat beginning to form on the small of my back. But it was really such a nice day. There was even some random guy swimming in the water. And then we walked up to Ghiradelli square to get some free chocolate samples. *Dark chocolate thins with caramel centers!!*

Sidenote: I've arranged to room with Kevin(blue and black stripes) and Yiding(Chinese guy in foreground) next year in an apartment, be it a university owned one or otherwise. We're going to be learning how to cook!T-T! But at the very least, I'm going to have way more living space.

Then we took a bus to the Exploratorium, one of those places with all the cool science-y exhibits. Right next to it was the Palace of Fine Arts, which was absolutely gorgeous. The scene that we chanced upon, with the beautiful structure in the background, and the lake with the swans in the foreground was totally aww-worthy.

And because the photos that I take with my camera phone totally suck, I'm going to steal some from the internet.

And of course, it was a wonderful place to take some photos.

And then there was the Exploratorium. Which was really cool to us - 'cause we're all (with the exception of Beebe, who's an English major) Science/Engineering students. Woot. But I have few tales to tell of that place, and fewer pictures, because it's all about the experience really.

And I leave you with me trying to blow a really large bubble, which the picture doesn't really show. It was there I swear *grimaces*

p.s. all photo credits for photos without a datestamp on them go to Louel and his real camera

Transience

2007-02-12T22:49:00.000-08:00

On Saturday, I had lunch with my uncle and two of his friends at Cafe Clem, a French place. It was a pleasant affair, with my uncle and his friends reminiscing about the memories they had of the time they were in Berkeley and the changes that had taken place since then. One of the two was PC, a Malaccan who had gone to MIT for his undergraduate studies and had met my uncle during their time as graduate students in Berkeley while the other was Ken, the graduate student who had mentored my uncle while he was writing his thesis and had stayed on to be a physicist at the Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory (LBL). And yes, they did speak to me as well, but thats perhaps the less interesting part of that afternoon.

There was an air of transience about that day, with much talk of people who had passed away and of people who had moved on with life. And though the afternoon started off with PC teasing me, "What? You didn't get a 4.0 in your first semester? Die ar..now cannot ever get a CGPA of 4.0 dy", the main message the three of them had for me was condensed in my uncle's words - "Take life slow and easy. This is a race you dont want to win - because the finish line is death."

Later, Ken brought my uncle and I up to the LBL, both to show me around and to bring my uncle to his former workplace. The cyclotron that my uncle had used to irradiate brain patients' heads was gone but the entire complex was ginormous. I stepped through the old doors into the building dealing with the "Advanced Light Source" and came to this happy happy place with blinking lights and great numbers of machines. I didn't take photos - because yeah, its not good for a Malaysian to photograph the insides of an American national laboratory. But take my word for it, it was a happy happy place. And throughout the tour, past the areas with the radiation alerts, the great arrays of computing power and even the places where the roof leaked, my uncle kept repeating to me, "Look at all of this. This is good science."

I did. And it is good.

"Equations are more important to me, because politics is for the present, but an equation is something for eternity." - Einstein

2007-02-11T12:17:00.000-08:00

Well, I had lunch at some Chinese place with my small group yesterday - the restaurant was called Great China - and though it was chock full of white people, served pretty good Chinese food. I had sweet and sour pork again. Darn, I realize that whenever I'm in a Chinese place here in the states, I usually order the same darned sweet and sour pork. Need more variety. And then there's the fortune cookie.

Owh well, we all know that fortune cookies say presposterous things; but those of you who know me would know that this cookie's kinda pushing it. Personally, and perhaps in a rather conceited way, I like to think that I have a good sense of the aesthetic and artistic composition, though I don't know expressionism from impressionism from all that jazz. I've seen the Venus de Milo and the Mona Lisa, and perhaps the Botero exhibition they're having in Berkeley, if I decide to be less indolent. But my appreciation of art in general is somewhat liking. Modern trends are slightly confusing - I couldn't give a damn about modern visual art and Andy Warhol, but I am quite in favor of the existential theme that is becoming a mainstay in print media and film.

You know what I say? Love live the Japanese. I see myself reading manga and watching anime for a long long time to come. But yeah, earlier this week, I spent about three days reading the eighteen volumes of Ichigo 100%. And Ching Chern, just in case you're reading this, it friggin sucks! (though the artwork is pretty good, Nishino especially) Damn my overwhelming curiosity - if not for my desire to see how the story would end, I would have dropped the series at the first few series. I've seriously got to have better self control the next time.

Anyway, Ichigo 100% is another one of those improbable stories where this total loser of a guy finds utterly hot girls falling for him - and then failing to make a move till the very end. This theme of the total loser finding such success is perhaps a genre in manga, as other titles such as Oh my Goddess, A.I. Love You and Love Hina suggest. A little escapist zone perhaps, where sad otakus can retreat to have their wonderful fairytales.And it's not like I don't sympathize, or empathize, with them - but fairytales are all things that we could do without. Imagine a world where children were brought up on truth, and not the saccharine lies of Disney - how much more we could achieve.

I guess it should be rather obvious that these days I tend to focus almost exclusively on seinen manga. Stuff like Elfin Lied and even Trinity Blood. And it's not just my fixation with evil women (e.g. Lucy <3 ) it's more about the depth of the character involved. But I guess, it all depends on the purpose of the artforms you enjoy. And that's the theme of the comparative literature class I'm taking this semester - the motive of the book. So do you read/watch movies for entertainment or for catharsis? Personally, I'm more for the entertainment, which is why I have such a crass taste in films - all I watch is slapstick crap.

On one hand, I could put more of an effort into appearing to be cultured, but on the other hand I could recognize the pointless stereotyping around us for what it is and live life free from societal expectations. So yeah, the world can keep its art films to itself - right now, all I want is dumb humor. Owh, and this is so totally related (not that there is much a coherent train of thought to my blog posts), but Greek plays have the coolest scenes ever. If you loved the part in Oedipus Rex where Oedipus poked his owns eyes out, you'll adore this snippet from Euripedes' The Medea, describing the death of Jason's virgin bride (lines 1183-1201).

When she, poor girl, opened her shut and speechless eye,
And with a terrible groan she came to herself,
For a twofold pain was moving up against her.
The wreath of gold that was resting around her head
Let forth a fearful stream of all-devouring fire,
And the finely woven dress your children gave her,
Was fastening on the unhappy girl's fine flesh,
She leapt up from the chair, and all on fire she ran,
Shaking her hair now this way and now that, trying
To hurl the diadem away; but fixedly
The gold preserved its grip, and, when she shook her hair,
The more and twice as fiercely the fire blazed out,
Till, beaten by her fate, she fell down to the ground,
Hard to be recognized except by a parent.
Neither the setting of her eyes was plain to see,
Nor the shapeliness of her face. From the top of
Her head there oozed out blood and fire mixed together.
Like the drops on pine-bark, so the flesh from her bones
Dropped away, torn by the hidden fang of the poison.

Owh, the picture that paints ^^ Now, that is truly art that has stood the test of time.

Sigh, I am fortunate enough that there are so many things that I could be blogging about - things that aren't mundane or routine - I just want more time and more diligence

the gift of life

2007-02-03T23:15:00.000-08:00

On Tuesday, I went to donate blood. Now perhaps you might be sitting back home and thinking to yourself, "Wow, Calvin's such an idiot, why write 'went to donate blood' when you can so easily write 'donated blood'?" Yeah, perhaps you are wondering that. Perhaps. But my sentence is crafted such because ultimately, I didn't donate blood.

It was meant to be part of some campus wide blood donation thing I think, 'cause whoever organized all of these had the Red Cross come in on several days at several locations on campus. I had actually chosen to be responsible and sign-for a slot at 12:30 instead of doing a walk-in like some munificent hero. Or perhaps it was because that was my lunch hour and I was running on a tight schedule.

So yeah, I head to the lounge of Putnam Hall, Unit 1 at 12:25 - 5 whole minutes before time, just because I'm anal about efficiency when its of direct pertinence to me. I stride up to the first seemingly responsible person I see and "Oh, I'm sorry - we didn't expect the road right outside of the dorm complex to be blocked, and we had to carry all the equipment from our van on foot. Could you come back at 1?" Yeah, so this is probably more of the organizer's fault than the Red Cross, but I'm pissed nevertheless. I give them my well practised saccharine smile, reply perkily, Oh sure, why not?" and walk out of Putnam.

I am pissed, not because I don't have anything productive to do, but because of the time I have. No no no, the word productive sounds awfully wrong. When I study, I like to set apart batches of a few hours each, that's just how I function. I like to believe that the graph of my absorption capabilities versus time is rather like a bell. Having to spend 30 minutes studying, and only 30 minutes is forcing me to waste 30 minutes in a period of low efficiency.

But whatever. I get back into Putnam at 1:05 and I'm greeted by, whoa, the RA involved of taking care of my floor and the 4th floor of Freeborn,who coincidentally I never really see. I show them some ID and I'm asked to take a seat. And so I do. And then some fat lady calls me over to her desk to go through the routine questions and blood checks. She had that 'stench' of indolence and apathy. Just from the way she carried herself and talked, I could tell that she couldn't care less about her job.

So yeah, I get my finger pricked -I always hate that part - and my blood pressure taken. And then she starts filling out a form with all my details. She's slow, but no biggie. And then we get to the matter of my birthdate. Just wanting to get the tedious paperwork done with, I quickly say

"It's August the 9th, 1988"
"What?"
"It's August the 9th, 1988"
"Is that the 6th?"
"No, miss. It's the 9th, August the 9th"
"No, the month, August. Is that the 6th?"
*FUCKING RETARD, WHAT THE HELL?!!*
very calmly: "No, August is the 8th month."

And then she leaves me to answer a crapload of yes/no questions while she goes to get herself some snacks. Have you ever had sex with another man? Have you ever used a needle to inject drugs? bla bla bla. Everything gets a "No" from me, except the question that asks me, "Have you ever been out of the US in the last 3 years." Disinterested lady comes back, and I explain that I'm international and I'm from Malaysia. She stares at me blankly and then starts going onto some online database of the Red Cross and looking for information/instructions they might have regarding Malaysia. After a while spent in what I can only describe as random clicking, she turns to me again and asks, "So what country are you from again, Iran?"

Why Iran? The poor uneducated American probably had such a lack of knowledge of geography and foreign countries that the only other countries she would know outside of the well-known European ones are Iran and Iraq, maybe Afghanistan if she had a good memory. You know what, until now the sound of Americans saying "eye-ran" and "eye-rag" is still torture to my ears.

So the disinterested lady, who suddenly has something on her hands that is not so mundanely routine that a snail would die of boredom, sits there looking at her computer, not doing anything, and saying , "Oh, I don't know what to do." At this point of time, I'm just keeping myself from speaking because I knew that if I were to open my mouth I would launch into this harsh diatribe over her epic incompetence. So yeah, after a while, she summons one of her co-workers to her aid. This co-worker shows more life and a greater degree of interest, but still largely just fiddles around with her PDA idly, going "Oh, we've never had to deal with something like that before. I don't know what to do."

So who the hell fucking does?

Apparently some older white guy in a white lab coat-ish garb does. He comes in and gets to some websites and says, "Oh, you're international? You've got to wait till at least 3 years after you've come to the US to donate blood." And because I go back home to rural ol' Malaysia for such prolonged periods of time, there are some complications that arise thatll result in me effectively never going to be able to donate blood for the duration of me being here in America. My mom's happy that well yeah, I never got poked with a needle and "running the risk of getting AIDS", but I sat in the chair next to that woman for nearly an hour. One hour of my life, just gone like that. Poof.

DotA

2007-01-28T23:26:00.000-08:00

Oh, the game that I have yet to play in Berkeley, and that I swear not to touch while I am to study. 'tis a rather forced attempt to brighten up this blog, but an attempt nevertheless. It's quite a cool video.

the pain

2007-01-28T19:43:00.000-08:00

This pain is like a two edged sword. But the man who commits the deed can find nobody and nothing to turn you. Oh how I love you.

I shall cry myself to sleep tonight.

basics

2007-01-28T10:15:00.000-08:00

Life is interesting in the church. Just two days ago, I was standing by the door after everything had finished - talking about the correlation between math and philosophy with Steven('twas his favorite topic), Sung-En and Lue-Yee. How the conversation got to Plato and his idea of the Ideal Forms I know not, but it did and I stood there with Steven explaining how Plato's thinking work. I am inclined to think of Plato as a fool, for history does make fools of each and every one of us, but as Virgil said of Descartes, "Even when he was wrong, he was systematically wrong, and with logical coherence." The point is, I can now satisfactorily form an opinion of Plato that is less than adoring because I know more of him, while the average person who does not is more likely to accord him adoring awe.

And this brings me back to church. I remember asking my mother once, "Why do praise God so much for healing us when it was he who allowed the injustices/illnesses to befall us?" This question did not come from the exuberance of a newly discovered opinion but from the saturated questioning mind. If you yourself are Christian, you would know, just as I did even before I asked the question (which then begs the matter of pointlessness) that the standard answer is to improve the human soul i.e. the 'through hardship we are bettered argument'. Moreover, Christians are told to praise God in our joy and to praise God in our suffering, as in reinforced by all the songs we sing. Thinking, then leads me to realize that there are basics of the Christian faith that are not at peace with my soul.

1. God as a Perfect Being
The Bible says that we were created for his pleasure. For his glory. Perhaps none of you share my sentiments, but this seems to be a rather self-serving. We never question God because we place him on a pedestal and give him the label "untouchable", just as many of us would do to Plato. But posit God as a man (which perhaps is less of heresy(?) 'cause of the example of Jesus). I doubt any of us would take kindly to a person who only wanted people to glorify him. Maybe a person who bought Aibos (RIP my dear doggie friends) and Robosapiens and programmed them to be forever prostrating themselves before him and singing praises to his name. But hey, we Christians have free will and can choose - at least we're not being coerced to do anything. But for those who believe, the choices are but two - believe and go to Heaven and enjoy everlasting life, or choose to deny God and go to hell and suffer everlasting death(?). As Yiding pointed out, in China the press can report everything the government would have them see and grow in prosperity or report the less savoury things and get thrown in jail. It's very much akin to the Christian choice, but nobody says that there is true freedom of the press in China. My God gets angry and he gets jealous. We talk of his agape love, and his boundless forgiveness, and his unending mercy - but when anyone in the Bible sins against God they are struck dead immediately or the ground opens to swallow them up etc. What if they would have repented? So God won't do anything immediate when a man sins against a fellow man, but when a man sins against God *BOOM* That's pretty righteous. For God, in the end its still all about himself. So if I can bring myself to act in a slavish way, what do I do? For one, I could go out and proselytize to every single person I meet, because I might be their only chance of making it to heaven.

2. The role of the human in divine plans
But if that were the stark choice and it's either heaven or hell and if God cares about "his sheep" so much, why leave it to the fallible humans. Just imagine that you're on ship and your kids fell overboard. You're this totally amazing guy, a trained lifeguard, you've swum the English channel, the Straits of Malacca, maybe even the Pacific Ocean and you know that it would be a cinch. Would you tell some wimpy otaku, "Go jump on in and save my kids."? If you really loved your kids, would you leave it to the wimpy otaku who might not stand a chance? Here of course, people begin to point out the incongruity of the analogy and say, "Well, if it were God, he would know that the otaku would make it." And so, let me bring you back to reality and say that "NO! The otaku doesn't always make it" and God knows full well. Will he consign those people people that we've failed to reach. those people we've alienated, those people we've failed to guide - all to hell just like that. Lets put you back on the ship, with your kids flailing in the sea. You might be thinking, "Hmm, that otaku needs to get a life. Maybe saving someone will make him stronger." But imagine that the otaku fails, how in all the world would that risk have been worthwhile?

Of course, the end argument is that while I can only say "how in all the world", the realm that God can comprehend transcends time and temporal boundaries. Maybe "in all of time" the otaku failing would have been worthwhile. I will never know. That's the argument that stands in front of me, like a massive wall that will never budge but an inch. I will never know. And I am compelled to say here, that all my arguments are made with the assumption that God exists.

I have no problem adhering to the morals and ethics brought on by the social contract, by communality. But how do I order my life around something that I doubt so very much.

T_T

2007-01-25T21:05:00.000-08:00

Exactly two weeks ago, I brought two boxes of beh teh saw with me over the pacific. Today, only one box remains. Yeah, this picture is one day old - I've consumed that packet already. Gah. Eveline I want you kuih kapit!!

p.s. These Ghee Hiang biscuits are of inferior quality

Otaku no Kamisama

2007-01-24T13:15:00.000-08:00

I read something cool in Wired today, thought I'd just share it with you all.

LOVE TRAIN

IT WAS A FAIRY-TALE ROMANCE. A very nerdy fairy-tale romance.
On March 14, 2004, the guy who would become known across Japan as Train Man was just a lonely otaku heading home from Tokyo's Akihabara district, famous for its gadgets and anime. A pretty young woman sat next to him on the subway. He likely wanted to talk to her, but, being a geek, he just sat there.
When an elderly alcoholic began harassing women in the car – and accidentally hit the pretty girl in the face – the geek summoned his nerve and confronted the drunk. When the train stopped, the police arrived and apprehended the old man. All the ladies – including the pretty girl – crowded around the nerd-hero, praising his bravery and asking for his address so they could send formal thank-yous. Train Man scribbled his information in the pretty woman's notebook. Then he fled.
When he got home, he posted the entire story on 2Channel, a Japanese Web site that's a bit like Slashdot and LiveJournal combined. He ended his post by cursing himself for leaving before he got the girl's address. "I totally freaked out," he wrote.
A few days later, a package arrived in the mail. In it were two fancy tea cups ... from the pretty girl! With her phone number on the packing slip! He naturally passed the news along, and the 2Channel bulletin board buzzed with excitement. Train Man – as he's known – posted again, noting, "My hands are shaking. I'm holding the phone, but I can't dial." Forum members did their best to stoke his courage. One wrote: "Remember: She's only one girl. You have all 2Channel on your side!"
Readers anxiously hit Refresh as Train Man updated them in real time during that awkward phone call. (A typical post: "DINNER! WHERE?") Then the 2Channel community became his crowdsourced dating adviser: "Get enough sleep, cut your nose hair, have breath mints, charge your cell phone, brush your teeth, take enough money, take a shower, and – in case of an emergency – wash your penis properly."
Train Man tirelessly chronicled his courtship. On May 9, 2004, the thread exploded when he reported, "I kissed her lightly, but she said, 'More,' kissing me 3-4 times." Overnight, he became Otaku no Kamisama – God of the Geeks.
In October 2004, a book-length transcript of the 2Channel threads sold over a million copies. Several manga serializations followed, as well as an anime, a live-action film (set for US release on DVD in February), a TV drama, a stage play, and even a porn knockoff. So far, though, Train Man's actual identity remains a mystery.
Some say he's real, others insist he was cooked up by some clever 2Channel posters. The book's publisher, Shinchosha, agreed to set up an email interview with Train Man, but acted as an anonymizing go-between.
"I don't think I could've done it without 2Channel," writes Train Man, who says he's still dating the pretty girl. So far, his life hasn't changed much: He works at the same company, visits Akihabara, buys comics, and watches anime. And, of course, he still posts about stuff like videogames on 2Channel. Once an otaku, always an otaku.
– Brian Ashcraft

on going home

2007-01-17T17:33:00.000-08:00

Yeah, I guess that's a really random picture. Hmm, that's supposed to show that Calvin is like...nevermind 0.O

...and so this is for Jing - a little bit of home. Of course, since I'm a wuss who doesn't take spicy food and a twinky who doesn't eat durians, the concept of a shared perception that we call 'home' is rather debatable. But anyway.

The day after I got back. I arranged to meet up with my friends at Kassim, the mamak near the Maxim in Pulau Tikus.
Yeah, I arranged to meet there but we ended up at some place called 'Solid Rock' instead. Fuyoo, it's a Christian restaurant. I don't know, I only see it as a marketing gimmick. There are plenty of Christian proprieters around and that means nothing to me. I saw it as a restaurant, purely that - and it failed to impress.

Me and my friends - I'm really fortunate to have a nucleus of friends to goes back to when I was in primary school - then hung around a bit. Finally ended up at 1-Stop playing pool. Somewhere along the way, we managed to be at Youth Park at 10p.m. and found out that someone actually guards the place at night.

Besides the friends, there was the Penang food as well.

Yeah, chicken rice and *how do you spell it? - going to go 'baku' here* kek la sui peng. Meet me at a kopitiam and that's what you're likely to see me having.

And then there was FINALLY hiking up Penang Hill with my ex-schoolmates. The emphasis on 'finally' is there because dear ol' Kenneth needed so much pushing to go. And then when we all decided to hike up, he needed so much pushing to get him to the top. But it wall worth it, 'cause we got there in the end. Everybody now, "Ohana means family. Family means nobody gets left behind."
Sigh, I find blogging to be such a chore

a lil' incident

2007-01-17T17:30:00.000-08:00

Dear All,

I want to thank all of your for praying for me. I believe it is your prayers that have carried me through and delivered me from this trying incident.

I arrived at the San Francisco International Airport at noon on Friday. Hoping to save around $20, I took the underground system, instead of the door-to-door van as my mother instructed me to. I reached the dowtown Berkeley underground station and then hopped on to a bus, lugging two heavy luggage bags while carrying my laptop backpack in one hand. I reached my dorm unit within minutes and was rather excited to see it again. I hopped off the bus and took the elevator up to my room. However, once I got to my room I realized that I had carried down from the bus only my two luggage bags, but not my notebook backpack.

I was rather alarmed, because my notebook backpack contained not only my notebook but also my passport and various important immigration documents. I rushed down to the bus station but the bus was nowhere in sight. Hurriedly, I called the bus company, but the operator refused to contact the bus drivers for me. The people at the bus company would not even help me determine the exact bus I had been riding on. In desperation, I began taking random rides on buses serving the line I had taken, and began looking for signs of my backpack. None of the bus drivers on any of those buses had seen it either. I remember saying to my friend, Grace, as dusk approached, "I hope this isn't one of those times where no matter what I do, I can't help the situation at all."

The next morning, after consulting with my parents, I made a police report. After taking down my narration of the events, the police officer called the bus company and found out the number of the bus I had been riding on, and also determined that the bus would have stopped at the end of its route about 20 minutes after I had been dropped off. From there, the bus would have been cleaned and inspected by the driver, before setting back on its route again. This meant that every bus on that line would have been checked several times after the time I had lost my backpack. However, none of the drivers had reported anything that day. I knew that the situation was definitely out of my hands now. It was one of "those times".

Someone had taken my bag, and there was no way I could influence him/her now to choose to hand it over to Lost&Found, rather than keeping it and its contents to himself/herself. But God could. So I prayed fervently and frequently. I had Grace pray for me and I had my cell group leader pray as well. And I had all of you. I had lost the bag on Friday. The Lost&Found office was closed on the weekend, as well as Monday which was Martin Luther King Jr. day here in America. It was only on Tuesday - today - that the offices would be open and I would know if any kind soul had sent my backpack to Lost&Found. I remember sitting upright in my bed at 6: 30a.m., just praying while my two roommates were still sound asleep. At 9:45a.m., in a break between my classes, I phoned the lost and found office and heard "Calvin Teng? yeah, we got your stuff."

And here I am, typing this email on my MacBook, after my cell group leader drove me to the Lost&Found office in Oakland. God did what I definitely could not have done. All praises be to him!

Calvin Teng

A New Semester

2007-01-11T23:05:00.000-08:00

So here I am again, in the Hong Kong International Airport typing. Just an hour away from boarding my plane to San Francisco and starting a new semester. Starting anew. This is my first post in quite some time. Being at home amidst all the people and the scenes I find dear made me really just want to vegetate. The food that I miss. And sadly, the humidity - which I so totally absolutely did not miss. Grace would probably probably attest to that, going by the scarcity of emails from me going her way. Then again, my mom wold counter that Grace gets a better deal than she does anyway.

I on the other hand, will let women be women and keep my mouth close.

I guess nobody should start another day the same person that they were the day before - life has too many lessons to teach us. I wake up each day, not wanting to be the same, but worrying that I'll lose myself. The concept of "myself" as a constant of course, is rather fallacious. So we accept that it is a dynamic thing - but how dynamic? And where do we draw the line? Sometimes when we rush to save "who we are", we have to wonder whether that state of things should be saved - which requires immutable truth. Yet, to me - truth is largely relativistic, if not entirely. As is good and evil.

But I shall not bore you with philosophical rants in this post.

2006 was a rather momentous year. I saw the beginnings and the ending of my relationship with Wan Jun. I must say, that period left me with a greater capacity to be cold and heartless. Not that it was always a hellish ride while it lasted - the emotional topography of that year was rather interesting. The months of lonely search that resulted in the Astro scholarship. Yet, I can separate the euphoria from the agony of hopelessness that was as a doppelganger to me for so long. There was coming to Berkeley, and hardly missing Penang at all. Hardly missing Malaysia. The people I missed dearly, but not the country. Feeling I should study harder. Feeling I should not bury myself in books. Feeling that not feeling would be most wonderful thing in the world.

Only if that came to pass, "wonderful" would be a concept that I would not be able to appreciate.

And not a single day passes that I do not detest this human filth that envelopes me. This organic weakness. It seems to be a Christian thing to always wonder at how our biological systems are so intricately designed. That the efficiency and complexity of it all makes intelligent design a blatant truth. Me? I see frailty. I see weak minds, incapable of single minded drive. I see pointless suffering and a denial of how vulnerable our pathetic forms are. How sad, that I will probably never live to see the day of completely cybernetic organisms.

But life moves on, even as I sit here typing. And when my fingers stop moving, pressing against the slightly tarnished keyboard of my MacBook, perhaps I will move on with life - just to see what lies around the corner, just to seek change. Oh look, they already have.