20031227

I am here to enjoy myself. This is the thirteen days most holy, between the Birth and the Gift-Giving of the Magi.

Words:

Equality, puh! Only poor people believe in equality. The rich sees business opportunities when they arise, and seeks to profit from them.

The businessmen know when to get out of the country, when environments unfavorable to them are beginning to take over, such as communism, fascism, and other forms of tyranny. That's why America is the country of capitalism, because many businessmen have immigrated into the nations of the Pax Americana, thus profiting these countries.

The Pax Americana (Peace American) include countries in North America and Western Europe and their colonies, such as Australia, which still technically belongs to Great Britain.

Declaring a war against terrorism legitimizes the terrorists' belief in their causes, for they believe that they are engaged in a holy war against the American "infidels." Never mind the fact that America is trapped in a debate between evolution and special creationism, illustrating the power of the freedom of speech. --influenced by Krauthammer, Charles, "To Hell With Sympathy" TIME 27 Nov. 2003 and Soros, George "The Bubble of American Supremacy" The Atlantic Online December 2003

Home Page

20031226

Anyway, where I spent on Christmas Day was at my aunt's house. We drove there to have a Christmas Lunch, because her husband, being a nurse, has to work from 3 p.m. to midnight. Then we watched a movie, Seabiscuit, before we finally played MahJong Note: We don't play the game by this rule exactly (in the sense of following the rules to the letter), but it just gives information on the game. You may know better rules (especially with pictures) elsewhere. Finally, we ate dinner at a fancy restaurant. Yes, the Chinese restaurants are still open on Christmas Day.

I got Lord of The Rings: Return of the King and Kingdom Hearts for Christmas, which were of course, what I chose. There's no sense in having surprises for Christmas because I doubt the Magi intended Christmas to be presented in this manner. The manner being that you never know what you're going to get for Christmas, but you've given a lot of hints, and yet, you never did get what you want, so you wound up scrunching your face between three emotions: disappointment, fury, shock, all the while trying to show their evil twins: approval, happiness, surprise.

I have been trying to draft a list of New Year's Resolutions, without much success. They reflect the previous resolutions, but I've decided to change them so the expectations won't be so extreme. Great things are accomplished from the tiniest steps.

So, a primo, the things I would like to do next year are to go to QSA meeting, regardless of whom I might encounter; volunteer at CSDF during the summer; find internships for Biochemistry and/or Environmental Science; create a video diary using ASL, and finally to be supervisors at the Deaf camp.

I'd been meaning to volunteer to the Deaf camp, but I was taking classes during the summer that did not end until late August, and the camp starts in the middle of that month. So I can try to find internships instead, and get some work experience in whichever majors I might be interested in.

I was taking a shower last night, when I felt a pang of guilt. It is a guilt I've felt almost each time I enjoy having myself douched in hot water. I dwelled on the fact that there are people not capable of enjoying the same privileges as I am. I dwelled on the fact that hot water will run out in 2008, or whatever the UN happened the place the date of the reckoning.

People change when they wake up. I don't know whether I've reached that stage yet, but last week, I noticed myself being distinctly different from last year, from years past. It is as if I am regressing to a second childhood, with the adulthood in observance.

Home Page

20031222

Wired Magazine Issue 11.12

The Wired Magazine, whose January Issue has been released today, has certainly power to imbue me with hope for the future. The wits with which the authors write have filled me with optimism. The fact that people might have been able to clone a human embryo, that there are some hard-core nerds living in dorms unwired for wi-fi, that there are 100 things that should be done to bolster the future of the Internet against spam, viruses, evil malicious people is so inspiring to me that I can't help but smile.

Each month, the magazine makes me feel happy for the general state of humankind. In fact, it makes me envious that I am not of those people participating to better the world in some parts. With six billion people on earth and growing, the fact that all the writing elements of the world can document barely one percents of these (statistics guesstimated) makes for a depressing odds (against me).

I do my part, sir and ma'am, I do my part.




Oh, I forgot to say that I became qualified for a sign language interpreter today. Of course, it is too late to get an interpreter because everyone has been pretty much assigned. So I will wait until next quarter.




Two things I need to do:
It is time. I have decided; it is finally time. I will not delay any longer in wallowing in my sense of self-pity. For too long, I have been crippled, physiologically and psychologically, but I will not be crippled any longer. All my duty's this, from MacBeth: "God's benison goes with you and with those, That would make good of bad and friends of foes."

Secondly, I want to apologize for lying to you, for misleading you, for manipulating you, and for doing all bad and evil things to you. In other words, I want to repent.

Now, an explanation. My mother and I went shopping one day, when I saw a group of Asian-Americans (most likely Chinese), some with their dyed-brown hair and looking so marvelously cool. And what did I do, in my low self-esteem? I looked down, avoid their eyes, and fill all my loathings at them in my brain.

I couldn't help but dwell on these group of well-dressed, or just well-fashion-followed, and feel an envious hatred. I see how other people ignore them, but I could not help but think about how I wish to be like them, how I wish to show that I am "special" too. In other words, I wanted to get their attention.

What a tactic that has not been given-up from third grade! How childish I behaved, my mind so focused on useless things. I doubt I could ever be interested in them or their lifestyle, but the first time I saw them so arrogant in their acts, throwing stupidly a piece of vegetable into their cart, etc. etc. I could not be feel enraged, like I want to tell them, stop acting so high and mighty.

There, I remembered, that moment at Fry's that I posted about.

Finally, I remembered that the only way you can forgive others, is if you forgive yourself and love yourself. I saw true clarity, but naturally, I will not forgive myself, not yet, not now. The pain still sears at my heart; I will work to try to forgive myself, but now I have not yet forgiven. I am working toward the day when I, waking up, have finally said, "This is it. I have forgiven myself. I don't know, but I simply don't feel any pain about this anymore. I've forgiven."

But not now. Not now, my little people. Not now. Now, I still feel hatred, loathing, unforgiveness, pain. Here is pain; this is what I feel.

Home Page

20031221

Lord of the Rings Movies, Return of the King Official New Movie Site: LOTR Wallpaper Two Towers Pictures Trailer Preview Buy Online Movie Tickets

I saw the Lord of the Rings: Return of the King last night. It was great. I won't give anything out, especially since I had little to give out, because--guess what?--I can't hear what the characters are saying. Many people often remark how surprised how much they take the little things for granted.

Of course, I read the books, so I understood the plot and the dialogues, but certainly, they had many new things not mentioned in the book. The visual effects to substitute for prose but I think they've maintained the same spirit as the story. I know how some people say books are better than the movies into which they're made, but I think Peter Jackson, the director, is excellent at showing the misery that all the people have suffered under Sauron. So the soul of the story is not destroyed in the translation.

Particularly, I loved the crying by Frodo, Gandalf, Samwise, and the rest. I was naturally uncomfortable at first, but I realized long ago that I had to accept each character on its own merits and visualize its life from its standpoint, not on or from ours. Doing so, it was moving to see Gandalf's tears at the final destruction of Sauron, as if the veil of terror, of fear of Sauron's return, of death and destruction, was suddenly removed, and people who had lived under such terror for so long could not be but overwhelmed.

Truly, I see how much people would interpret the movie differently in modern time. I also loved the music. It was a beautiful score and appropriate for an epic of this complexity.

Home Page

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?