Ahhh

The greatest example ever of the failure of modern science has now been unravelled.

MIT produces something that could lead to the downfall of capitalism, and this is what NTU was working on?

More internal brain activity, eh?

I'm going to avoid commenting on this one.

Temptation is the universe trying to tell you to do the right thing

My last Thanksgiving in Chicago, eh? Pretty sedate, as it turned out. Did not get drunk, declined the opportunity to get drunk, stayed almost completely free of alcohol for a couple of days, avoided going anywhere horrendously expensive for once.

Although I do find myself missing the possibility. Not a good sign. Losing control. Will have to either stop or just push things through.

Some people I know get all emotional over the thought of a last anything in a particular place. I personally do not. I've thought about getting sentimental, but I really am not that kind of fellow. I'm more the sort who is occasionally seen as callous and cold because I don't display the sort of lingering emotion that is most commonly seen before graduations and at airports. I would be quite happy to take a cab to the airport from home, especially considering that my flights from Singapore always leave so damn early in the morning.

I will not complain about my parents sending me off, since it is a nice gesture. I shall also avoid any more complaints about people being nice to me, since I feel guilty about feeling bad about feeling guilty. Suffice it to say that I think I shall live a life quite happy if it should be relatively free of connections too close.

I do not like the idea of growing dependent on others for my happiness, contentment and peace of mind. I would be quite happy, I think, living in a lavish apartment by myself, with a maid to come in and clean, perhaps a chef to whip up something once or twice a week, a chaffeur for wherever I feel like going, and maybe a couple of friends who I can have drinks and dinner with on occasion. With regards to the last, I shall have to improve on what I have now. I'm beginning to, well, alright, I have pretty much lost all faith in most friendly relations I possess at the moment. In general, I seem to overestimate people, and the affection they might hold for me. In the rare case that I do not, I come to care less and less for their company. Can't be a good thing. I do not wish to feel obliged to be nice to people, and I recoil at the idea that anyone feels any sort of obligation to be my friend if they have no real liking or affection for me. I hate it when I can sense that some people think that they are friends with me, so they should be nice and spend time with me. It's like reflexively proclaiming a baby to be cute, even if it is the ugliest creature ever to appear upon the earth. Or pretending to appreciate a piece of art simply because it is expensive and hangs in a famous museum. I am trying to clip and cut away those people in whom I sense this obligation. Don't bother. I don't appreciate the effort. I would prefer an honest lukewarm acquaintance to a forced warm friendship. Honesty is a thing I appreciate greatly.

No energy can be a good thing

There really is a reason I never bring people back to my place, wherever it is, after drinking. You wake up with people strewn all over the shop, and probably vomit on your floor, bed, laptop, in your closet, over your toilet. And people always seem to select the moment when you're not around to throw up. Why is that? Is it because even when you're completely smashed, there are still some reservations about completely embarrassing yourself in front of others? Of course, you're drunk, so it doesn't occur to you that it is equally embarrassing to be seen lying in a pool of vomit as creating it.

Anyway, here is evidence of why I don't like drunk people in my room.



Not me, thankfully, but my roommate's this morning. Thanksgiving hell. It's karma. What you inflict comes back and hits you back eventually.

Sometimes having no energy to go out can be a good thing.

A view and a library

There must be worse ways to spend a Sunday morning.

I woke up this morning to the usual spotlight. The key difference was that I had left my glasses on the window ledge beside my bed, so I put them on and lay there for a while, gazing out my window. In this manner, my day began with a view of the utterly gorgeous sky. It's the sort of sky that penny novelists wax poetic over. It's clean, gentle, brilliantly blue. At the very periphery of my vision, there were some clouds hanging out further out over the lake. The blue of a clear, sunny sky really is the most amazing colour I have ever encountered. There's a sort of lazy warmth to it, but somehow also a startling clarity. I could stare at the sky forever on a sunny day.

Then I read a novel. The new one by Gaiman. Utter brilliance. The only complaint I might have of the man's novels is that he writes them so infrequently. What I admire is not the quality of the prose, for there are so many people who can produce a turn of phrase prettier than he. No, it is the weaving of stories, of fantasy that reveals a subtlety of imagination that goes beyond anything I can aspire to. Even as the fantastic is scribed, the humanity of the situation is retained. The question that fascinates is not how fantastic a world we might discover or create, it is how you would react when faced with this new world.

Zelazny's Amber chronicles imagined an utterly fascinating universe, with characters so strong that you could not help but imagine that they are archetypes. Each of the characters was so recognisable and familiar from the first moment you meet them, but you know that you would never meet someone quite like that. But everyone you meet is something like them. Therein lies the brilliance.

Gaiman's characters are different, in that these are people you know, people you are. The insecurities, awkwardness, aspirations. These are the stuff of reality as opposed to the conceptual personalities of Amber. Thinking about how these characters would react to an improbable situation is akin to projecting your own reactions. As reality is unwound and rewritten, how do you think about it?

Anyway, not looking to explain my literary preferences here.

I spent a few hours curled up on my couch, reading the new Gaiman novel, listening to old Chinese music and occasionally looking out at the lake. For just a little while, life was as perfect as it could be. I felt so right. This is what is meant by enjoying your own company. Alive, relaxed, happy. Maybe this is all I need out of life. I don't need the private jet and the personal assistants and the bodyguards and the cool restaurants and the castle. Well, maybe if the castle had a lake view and a library.

Surprising

I guess I'm down one thing to complain about.

Six basic flavours?

Somehow, it's a little bit sad.