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The world is a comedy to those that think, a tragedy to those that feel. -Horace Walpole

Name:
Location: Singapore

Tutor at NUS.

Thursday, September 28, 2006

Italian

Though tormented by these circumstances, I managed to concentrate and subdivide the generic sensation of my sex pressed by the sex of Madame Miyagi into the compartmented sensations of the individual points of me and of her, progressively subjected to pressure by my sliding movements and her convulsive contractions. This application especially helped me to prolong the state necessary to the observation itself, delaying the precipitation of the final crisis by evincing moments of insenstivity or partial sensitivity, which in their turn merely enhanced immeasurably the immediate return of voloptuous stimuli, distributed in the unpredictictable fashion in space and time. "Makiko! Makiko!" I moaned in Madame Miyagi's ear, associating convulsively those instants of hypersensitivity with the image of her daughter and the range of sensations incomparably different which I imagined she could arouse in me. And to maintain control of my reactions I thought of the description I would make of them that same evening to Mr Okeda: the shower of little gingko leaves is characterized by the fact that in each moment each leaf that is falling is found at a different altitude from the others, whereby the empty and insensitive space in which the visual sensations are siutuated can be subdivided into a succession of levels in each of which we find one little leaf twirling and one alone.

-- Italo Calvino, If on a Winter's Night a Traveller

I read the book some time ago and it has stayed with me ever since. The above is one of the most memorable paragraph from it, and is examplary of the kind of prose I like best.

Monday, September 25, 2006

Not even a dented van

Good thing jonathan leong didnt win. I hate his rendition of chasing cars and should i stay, I dislike his monotonous voice. As a matter of fact a friend told me that 8days interviewed a fellow who said he/she was going to spend $20 just to ensure his monotonous voice didnt win. I spent $1.20 and I hope that helped. He's just too cool for his own good. Idiot.

The Banquet isn't bad at all. It has a kind of poetic quality you will never find in any english film. The Chinese, Germans, Italians and French--they produce such fine things, don zha phtink. Idiots.

Well anyway here's a nice amateur poem for you.

The Dented Van in the Marina Car Park Does Not Really Belong to Me.

There’s a different perspective
to be had from the deck of my brother’s forty-footer
as it unzips the sea
and swanks its passage with a bow-wave
of two frothy fingers to the sail-bound,
than from the Queen Mary 11, just slipped Southampton dock.
Her passengers watch the upstart race
her to the twin forts that guard the Solent,
or don dinner jackets and join the Captain’s table,
as we peel away, twenty-two knots and catching satisfied,
and raise glasses of Pinot Grigio to Portsmouth harbour
while she breaks for New York, champagne flutes aloft.

-by bagman (screen name)

Monday, September 18, 2006

Playing the odds

The odds of Arsenal beating Manchester United at Old Trafford was $4, and when you’ve got odds like that for such a sublime team (honestly I don’t recall any of their odds to win being so high) you know you’ve just got to cash in. If numbers are anything to go by, the odds represent a shifting allegiance toward the red devils or, at the very least, a temporary loss of confidence in the Gunners, and I believe it was only the loyal Arsenal fan—and, perhaps, the mathematically tempted-- who reaped the profits of faith.

That being said I must admit that I still have concerns over their performance in the season so far, and it may quite some time before my loyalty starts to pay off again.

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

Tony Takitani's ending is one of the most incomprehensible one I've ever seen, even when considered from an artistic viewpoint. Overall, the film doesnt work well for me. Yes, it's beautifully painted--I like the wistful piano notes especially-- but personally I think haruki murakami (incidentally one of my favourite writers) is best left in words; his characters look just plain absurd otherwise.

I was in a fast-food outlet when I heard a male next to me telling a female opposite him how he got so drunk one night when he was out clubbing. He also told her that he likes trying new things.

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

For the record, I am B+

Suppose, for example, a group of 5 12-year-olds are, after a fine meal outside, discussing about the relation of one's blood type to one's academic results. One of them, let us call him A, has had a long-standing belief that there is a similarity between one's blood type and one's grades. Indeed, his own blood group is A and he has been consistently been scoring As for the length of his education so far. He articulates his thoughts with pride. A female, let us call her AB, gives him a high-five and echoes him, because she has noticed that she has consistently been scoring As and Bs in school so far--and her blood type is AB.

2 of the others, let us call them N1 and N2, nod their heads with detatched interest. N1 reflects upon his own blood type and his grades and realises that there is some truth in the belief that onr's blood type reflects one's academic grades. He notices some inconsistencies from his own experience but does not think too much into them. N2 sits passively, taking everything in and passing an occasional comment, but, like N1, never bothers to dwelve too much into the issue; very soon his thoughts drift to dessert, a prospect that silences him for the rest of the conversation.

The remaining fellow, let us call him KC, is also generally silent throughout the conversation, but, unlike N2, he is not thinking about dessert. He is thinking about A and AB's proposition, or belief, that there is some kind of link between one's blood type and academic grades. To be specific, he feels rather indignant about the presumptous attitude of A and AB, which is worsened by their irrational take on things. But he does not say much, he holds back his retorts, he holds back his cards even though he knows he has a good chance of winning the round. He does so not because he cannot be bothered, or because dessert is coming soon, even though both are more than valid reasons for disrupting the conversation. He does so because he has been thinking about the issue ever since he was 7, and in so doing, has thought about the discrepancy "O' blood group people would have if what A and AB say is true-- for surely no one he has seen has ever scored an O or zero before, not least himself (he belongs to the "O" group too). This discrepancy works as a good argument for refutation of the argument, of course, yet he is hesitant because if--what if--people with blood type "O" share another kind of similarity in their lives, say of always making zero careless mistakes or zero grammatical errors in their work, for example. KC has realised this from age 7, and he has been stumped ever since. He realises that he has the ace of diamonds in his hand but he cannot be sure if other players have other aces in their own hands. He realises he must do more research first, and let the other players take the intiative. The very wisdom that compels him to refute their belief also at the same time compels him to refute his own--because he knows he needs more knowledge, he needs to be a very mature person before he can start to gamble.

Let us now examine A and AB further. We look at A first. Might his be a case of hopeless self-affirmation? Ie He, for some indiscernible reason (perhaps his parents inculcated it in him, or perhaps he read from a certain Book before), believed that blood types have a direct link to results. Hence, since he know he is an A, could he have subconsciously worked toward that end and fulfil his own prophecy? (Alternatively, he could have just been born smart) And the moment he scored his first A, he told himself that the link is real, thus giving him the confidence and strength he needs to achieve his next A, and so on. Through years of consistency, though years of self-proven belief, would he be prone to dismiss any single other grade he has gotten along the way, thinking up expedient excuses for those hiccoughs the same way the first A gave him an expedient excuse to affirm his own belief?

What of AB then? Could her case be an issue of probability? She heard what A said, and in looking back to find evidence for his proposition, wouldnt it be easy for her to find many As and Bs to fit into her blood type, especially if she is decently intelligent, especially when lower-grade schooling is relatively simpler?

What if A's first few tests had all been Bs and Cs? Would he have abandoned his belief? I am of the opinion he wouldnt. He would simply shrug it off, and because his belief is so strong, his behavior and attitude would align themselves in such a way that an A would be presented to him sooner or later, after which he would start to feel triumphant about his theory and ignore the other failed evidence. What if AB's blood type was, say, B, thus reducing this chance of "self-fitting"? Would A still be able to influence her over? I say it depends. It would depend on how critical a person "AB" is; and if that is the case we can surmise that AB's consequent belief is actually more a matter of luck than of faith.

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Sting ray

The camera just stopped rolling for steve irwin. I used to watch his programmes when I was a little child.

Sunday, September 03, 2006

Across the board

After almost 12 hours of mahjong I emerged a tired and poorer man. I lost nine dollars in that period, which pretty much cancels out my modest earnings of previous matches, and I was just thinking, why is it always gain gain gain then lose alot? Why cannot gain gain gain then gain some more?