The Difference with God

as i exited the cinema after 'Saved!' today, there are certain things i can't help wonder and ponder. one thing said particularly stuck in my mind for some while- 'if God made us all so different, then why do we all want to be the same?' same, as being referring to we want to stick by the ten commandents, the same moral code, the same resulting behaviour and worse of all, expecting people to be assimilated into this generic 'sameness'. and for disclaimer and indemnity purposes, this is meant for agnostic or semi-believers who can stand the idea of challenging the basis of Christianity, it will definitely turn the guts of all atheists and evangelists alike, now that's a rare occasion that these 2 groups of people could agree on something.

'if God made us so different'. well from last i heard from someone, it's not all that really. It's God's challenge for an individual gone awry or further from the Light into the darkness. So if u're a born slut, u're challenged to be asexual; if u're homosexual, u're challenged to see the innate beauties of the other sex's genitals (i would think it's all about the sex right?); if u're fat, u're challenged to go on a diet without killing yourself; if u're ugly, then tough. so isn't that back to that disgusting theory where in the end, we must be that same mould of human being- sacrosanct, nun-like, straight or only loving plants, any other shape other than being fat, and beautiful (or telling yourself everyday that you are, when you really are not). just imagine a world of homogenous people, like mirrors of yourself all around. ok image not strong enough? go clubbing and you trying to pick someone up and obviously u have to quality check those around first and you only find yourself. scary, it has to be. But this situation would certainly find fans in Narcissists and megalomanics alike.

diversity is a wonderful thing. i would want to believe that God or whoever's having the ultimate remote control wants this world to be that. or how else would there be enough space in heaven? or that hedonism is more fun? or that the beautiful ones know that they are?it is the basis that hierarchies are derived, elitism finds joy in, and vices such as envy and greed have foundations in. so indirectly it's almost God's fault that these things come about? Encourage differences, diversity and pop goes the weasel alright. and on a dimmer note, i wonder who are the people that really want to perpetuate and is in support of the furtherance of this concept called diversity? (ans: the rich, the beautiful and from the way i see it, certainly not the damned)

in which ever ways the movie can be seen as a forgettable teen flick, there are still certain commendable things about this film. The most striking being that it's brave enough to set the basis of the entire film of probably the most taboo topic in evangelical America, next to maybe 'Gulf War II was started purely out of the idiocy of our President'. It goes beyond the guilded fences of Christianity might not be the best bedrock of one's existence. It can be self-confidence, self-belief and the power of human love and dreams. Another thing that was pretty cool was the fact that it allowed Americans to see how religion can actually destroy and ironically bud evil into the staunchest of them. Ultimately maybe things need to be taken with a pinch of salt and in moderation.

The scene that could enunciate all this encapsulatingly well is when Hilary Faye threw her bible at Mary and blurped, "I'm [fucking] filled with God's love". And Mary quipped, "so this is a weapon now?"

ha, bible-throwing.

Indie Glam

there are some things around that are just stylistically impossible for things we know to be mundane and 'everyday'. But chic just gets its way around and presents to us things out of the realm of artful possibility (think industrial glam and dirty chic). But this is too much really:




it is simply, ladies and gentleman, a shoetree.

i mean it's like manolo (yep, he's the designer) saying use this horn, buy some good shoes to go. everything screams style and chic. the dilemma now being should i buy it just for its aesthetic purpose or because it can be functional (don't be silly now). shoehorn made it the shape of an impossible stiletto, who would have thought of that? i'm railing now, i really should keep my cool.

*gawk*

What a welcome..(Prague review coming up)

Life's Surrealism

it's an unfamiliar sense of surrealism that engulfed me when i realised that the plane had landed, ever so safely, at Heathrow airport: the same airport that had welcomed me just 3 months ago. and all around, even on my tube journey to Canary Wharf this feeling still latched on like a woodpecker to a tree. like Ealing, Hammersmith, people stiffing their upper lips ever so refinedly and that fall weather that is all alien to me, that cotton still works and wool too hot. it's perfect, albeit the wind chilled me somewhat but never too badly.

the flight was tolerable i suppose. food was conceptualised by gordon ramsay of London (i chose that word cos i hardly thinks that he manually prepared ALL the bloody meal sets for everyone), managed to chat up two people next to me and service was great, considering i knew one of the stewards and he presented me with a pass that had me zoom past the immigration lines faster than the Russians can say 'nyet'. well nearly there. and the tube ride was absolutely sufferable, if it was summer and the train was choked with humidity and stenches of overworked sweat glands then it would be an entirely different story.

i'm getting used to the fact that i'm in London now. and then moving along to another part of Europe. i'm grateful mainly and contended with what i'm blessed with.

but suckers ya all..haha. I AM in london.

Par l'avion

As i do my inadvertent packing for yet another trip I come to confirm my love for flights, the longer the better. It gets worrying though that i come to a verge whereby i feel the need to actually plan what i want to accomplish on the relatively long flight. so 13 hrs can get me either a real good sleep, arriving at Heathrow impossibly fresh or tying up the pain-in-the-arse assignment so that i will not come back with an impossibly unmanageable post-vacation blues or indulge in the fine realm of Krisworld that is almost impossible to go missing it by. so see what i mean? no itinerary, everything will be as messed up as Ek's hair.

so now, of german riesling and frank kafka, i bid adieu ever so temporally to all those out there who had wish me well. one week!

Not fated

it simply irritates the daylight out of me. 'Maybe it's all not fated', 'let fate decide' or 'fate doesn't want this to happen'. apart from the fact that i am a little more irritable nowadays i think that's just unaccomodateable in this world where already so many things are uncertain and arbitrary. ain't one suppose to grab fate by the neck and shake it up and tell it who the boss here is? ain't one supposed to get one's life sorted out and not resort to dismissive overtones or rejective stances when life gets tough? ain't it just responsible not to leave things to an absolutely unknown, completely unestablished concept that might just all be downright romantic fluff (please do not start with me on religion)?

yes that's always the unexplained and things i believe that should be left that way. but when things go tough or inconvenient, i just don't think one should shaft these untimely inconveniences to the hands of well..nothingness. in anyways i think it could all be better (albeit not euphemistically) if one puts it as 'i tried but i don't foresee a desireable outcome' or 'time will tell'. (yes for those discerning readers and my hopefully discerning conscience, the last was purely for ironic effect).

fate can't decide when one should pursue someone. fate does not decide when things go wrong. you pursue, you fix things, you prevent things from developing into the phase where they need fixing, you make it happen or not happen and at the end of it all, u decide. But at the onset of things if things don't seem to go right, then i suppose it must be that bigger, probably fluffed-up thing called fate that must be in force, that it could not have meant to be when all things are against you. then again, when one doesn't try, how does one come to the conclusion that it's not going to work? how much is pride worth anyways?

a facade of strength you say? well i refuse to relent to reality and start sighing with this thing called fate, so in any case anything fails, or anything that i said backfires, it's just God's will. shalom.

Looking Down from the Offices of Elitism

the title holds much truth (please don't glare). just need to officially record here that Wong Partnership has probably the best view of a law firm here. even a random window has a full bird's eye view of the whole harbour, and those pokey things we like to call the Esplanade Theatres. big perk to work there. Elitism sure finds its way to the nicest and the best.

Quotient of Reel and Real Intelligence

channel surfing does bring about serendipitous finds sometimes. this is how i chanced upon the movie 'IQ' on a supposedly crap-daytime TV timeslot. and i assure you it's most aptly named.

it's a really smart movie.i just felt the necessary impulse to put all these witty yet fused with that slight notion of pop culture kind of quotes down. never know when they might come into good use because accident's don't happen. what accidents are to the general population is the product of the subconscious wanting not to believe in the series of events coming together to result in an incident that does not seem to fit into the quantum of the time and space that they are situated in. so thus there seems to be some truth in these Freudian quips huh.

1.
Boris Podolsky: James! How's the rat business?
James Moreland : Well, actually it's mostly students I'm experimenting on now.
Kurt Godel: My God, the mazes must be enormous.

2.
Albert Einstein: Are you thinking what I am thinking?
Ed Walters: Well what would be the odds of that happening?

3.
Bob Rosetti: You're Albert Einstein!
Albert Einstein : Yes
Rosetti : E equals M C squared!
Albert Einstein : [laughs] I hope so.

4. (and my personal fav)
Kurt Godel: I would rather be an optimist and a fool than a pessimist and be right.

Puke and bad acting

well both literally happened but not with one incident, although it does quite aptly go together. i'm still reeling from the actual belief that i caught 'A Cinderalle Story' starring Hilary Duff when i don't even adore her and am convinced without reading any sort of reviews or hearsay that it's gonna be, well, not quite the cinematic pleasure a self-respecting movie-goer would expect. but the point is i was under duress and undue influence and that's my defence in case anyone finds out i watched it.

so where do i start? the running amock of cliches that just screams 'please kill me' or the real one emotion face of the male lead whom i sincerely don't care to remember his name for. and who's he kidding, being that scrawny, poster-boy, trying to act out as a football captain? i need FAR more drinks than that. anyhow, hilary duff was alright in that teen flick, i'm-just-in-this-movie-for-exposure sort of way. the script just hollers the fact that it's trying to be smart but trying being the operative word. Like when Hilary's best friend was driving like a female octogenarian, she quipped 'I'm looking for the Fast and the Furious, not Driving Miss Daisy'. yes, that was sheer touche. and i must have mentioned the one-emotion, i'm-definitely-cool-but-trying-to-tone-it-down male lead which you wouldn't miss. i think that was a league of humour in its own right. but oh well, cynicism and pedantic picking aside, it's a feel good movie. one comes out feeling saturated with all the cliches that could possibly be conjured up in the world and getting killed by the faux pas romance between the leads that clearly had little chemistry to begin with, it's easy on the brains. so i guess it's all back to TGIF.

and the puke portion has the dubious honour of naming my darling Shu Hsien as its main perpetuator. she sure did 'perpetuate' a ridiculous amount of vomit. that was some way to usher in the weekend huh? but i guess it's all in the festive spirit of needing to feel relaxed for a birthday party for a good friend and how can one refuse a drink from the most benigned-intention of birthday girls? it's a first for Hsien and i'm rather positive that she might not be repeating her vomitus act anytime soon.

a blast of ways to welcome the much needed weekend.

In the violence of the hour

should i be published, i think i'll bename my anthology 'In the Violence of the Hour'. I like the certain surge and that momentum in that phrase, almost a sort of carpe diem existence and most certainly encapsulating my quasi-existentalist beliefs that life should be lived out to the most- no regrets and certainly no sorrowful reflections or damnable retrospections. 'Violence' is this virulence of cathartic expression to me, the enmeshing of pathos, anger and forceful execution. It reminds me of (somewhat) Nabokov's Invitation to a Beheading. Can't fully rationalise why that's the case (apart from the obvious actual violence involved) so i'll just leave it to the imagination of the people who's familiar with the text.

i guess it also shows my working process through it all, that i write only when i'm inspired which also incidentally reflects the truest form of my emotions at that time. And as with violence leaving a permanent mark, etched onto the minds of those who experienced it, i write because only words, writings, defy the concept of time. Only they taste perennity, become time-in memorial, leaving permanent marks on people who feel them and taste them with their senses. Another theorem i adhere to pops up: power begets power, money begets money and creativity begets creativity. Then one can say elitism is on perpetual roll. Hallelujah.

i'm veering. so that's that and in this hour, my schedule will turn violent should i not go back to my books. comments welcome as to mon titre d'anthologie .