Some books I didn't finish reading at first attempt. It's either because they're difficult, boring, or there were other more interesting book at hand at that particular time. Amongst those, my greatest victory was The Name of the Rose. Looking back, it's amazing that I managed to finish that book at all, given my limited knowledge about 15th century Europe politics and the rotten (Indonesian) translation. But I did. I simply gave up with The Silmarillion. I kept forgetting who's who that reading it was not fun anymore. Such creation myth is better left as an oral composition, period. (And I know Professor Tolkien was really trying to construct a new Anglo Saxon myth of some sort.)
A House for Mr. Biswas is a difficult one too, in its own way. One doesn't need to know much about Trinidad or Indians in the island to enjoy the book. It doesn't have that many characters either. It's like having my worst nightmare spread open before me.
Mr. Biswas, the story main character, is your average Joe. He's like you and me. There's nothing remotely interesting about his life--his job is boring, he's not crazy about his wife and children, he's cynical about many things yet he couldn't do anything to change them, he has no particular achievement worth mentioning.
Reading the book scares me because I'm afraid that's the direction I'm heading right now in my life. Obscurity. Purposelessness. Simply going through the motions of living.
Don't get me wrong. Fearing obscurity doesn't mean that I'm eager to be famous or that I'm seeking for somebody else's acceptance. That's not it. I'm afraid that my life would be meaningless. Most people live without the knowledge that their existence means nothing, that whether they lived or not doesn't make any difference, that they'll soon be forgotten. I recognize this possibility and that's why I'm scared to death. I dread a mundane life like that of Mr. Biswas'. But can mine be any different?
Note: In case you're wondering, I'm still reading A House for Mr. Biswas. This is my third attempt.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Thursday, March 12, 2009
On Writing 3/12/2009 09:56:00 AM
A good writer can write about virtually everything, or so it says. That pretty much explains why I can't write about most of everything. Beep, incorrect induction! But hell, the point is my writing sucks.
I know quite a lot of people who aspire to be a writer. They've dreamed about it ever since they're just little kids and they've spent a lifetime to nurture their skill to perfection. Interestingly, I used to write a lot, mostly horrors. It's kinda creepy when you think about it now, a nine year old writing about people being killed and then having their meat used as the main ingredient of a particularly tasty food, or about malevolent spirits coming to haunt a bunch of insolent campers. Anyway, I stopped writing upon entering junior high, so I didn't get a chance to nurture my "skill" like all those people.
Actually, I have what it takes to be a good writer. I ramble all the time (my poor family and friends know this very well). That's what writers do, don't they? They ramble about various topics. The problem is, readers would expect structures, plot, an idea neatly packaged in the form of narration. Not incessant babbling about random stuff, which is the best that I can offer.
Once upon a time in Writing class (which was curiously named "Journalism of Science"), the teacher told us about the importance of seizing the mood to write. Meaning, you have to force yourself to write something, anything, instead of waiting for the right moment or divine intervention saying, "Lo and behold, mortal! I've got this brilliant idea for you. Write it down, will ya?" He told us that writing about anything that came up to mind at any given time would be a good idea as to improve one's writing, if it's done constantly.
Oh, sure. No problemo. But after some time practicing this, when you're given the word "house", people would certainly want a story about some house instead of this incoherent account: "I've been living in the same house I've lived in since birth. It's located in a quiet neighborhood where everybody knows everybody. Some people have moved on, though. And so have their pets. To the other world, I mean. This family living near my house currently got themselves a new dog. I never really have problems with dogs, apart from being bitten several times by members of their kin. However, this dog bugs me to no end. It barks all night long. Thanks for making me awake in the middle of the night, doggie. It's not like I have a United live match to watch every night. I don't mind if there's one, though. It's my favorite club, Manchester United."
See, I jump from a "house" to "Manchester United" in a single paragraph. No structure whatsoever. Such way of writing is what I'm most comfortable with. In other words, as far as writing goes, I'm in big trouble.
Note: I'm tagging you because I want you to have a good laugh. So please. Hahaha.
I know quite a lot of people who aspire to be a writer. They've dreamed about it ever since they're just little kids and they've spent a lifetime to nurture their skill to perfection. Interestingly, I used to write a lot, mostly horrors. It's kinda creepy when you think about it now, a nine year old writing about people being killed and then having their meat used as the main ingredient of a particularly tasty food, or about malevolent spirits coming to haunt a bunch of insolent campers. Anyway, I stopped writing upon entering junior high, so I didn't get a chance to nurture my "skill" like all those people.
Actually, I have what it takes to be a good writer. I ramble all the time (my poor family and friends know this very well). That's what writers do, don't they? They ramble about various topics. The problem is, readers would expect structures, plot, an idea neatly packaged in the form of narration. Not incessant babbling about random stuff, which is the best that I can offer.
Once upon a time in Writing class (which was curiously named "Journalism of Science"), the teacher told us about the importance of seizing the mood to write. Meaning, you have to force yourself to write something, anything, instead of waiting for the right moment or divine intervention saying, "Lo and behold, mortal! I've got this brilliant idea for you. Write it down, will ya?" He told us that writing about anything that came up to mind at any given time would be a good idea as to improve one's writing, if it's done constantly.
Oh, sure. No problemo. But after some time practicing this, when you're given the word "house", people would certainly want a story about some house instead of this incoherent account: "I've been living in the same house I've lived in since birth. It's located in a quiet neighborhood where everybody knows everybody. Some people have moved on, though. And so have their pets. To the other world, I mean. This family living near my house currently got themselves a new dog. I never really have problems with dogs, apart from being bitten several times by members of their kin. However, this dog bugs me to no end. It barks all night long. Thanks for making me awake in the middle of the night, doggie. It's not like I have a United live match to watch every night. I don't mind if there's one, though. It's my favorite club, Manchester United."
See, I jump from a "house" to "Manchester United" in a single paragraph. No structure whatsoever. Such way of writing is what I'm most comfortable with. In other words, as far as writing goes, I'm in big trouble.
Note: I'm tagging you because I want you to have a good laugh. So please. Hahaha.
Labels:
rambling
Sunday, February 08, 2009
A Dialogue with Thomas Hobbes 2/08/2009 07:58:00 PM
Reni (R): So, Mr. Hobbes, what is your idea about humans and civilization?
Thomas Hobbes (TH): I do believe that humans are equal. But humans are also egocentric and what each person cares about the most is his well-being. The problem is, when all humans are equal and free and egocentric, what you get is constant battle amongst individuals so that they can get what they want. That’s why people need civilization. Without it, one individual is under constant threat of other individuals. People wouldn’t feel safe. Yes, humans would then be bound by rules and such, and wouldn’t be able to do everything that we like to do. In other words, they might not be as free as they were before, but at least one can go about his life without having to worry whether someone would sneak up on him, kill him, and take his belongings just because that other person felt like it.
R: I get the point. And when you’re living in a world where so many other people exist, it’s only normal that you have rules of some sort so that you can live in harmony. But something is amiss here. Your portrayal of human nature is so ... negative. Surely humans aren’t that bad? Most people don’t just go ahead and steal from others when they feel like it, do they?
TH: If there aren’t any laws to refrain them from doing so, who knows? I’m not so sure about that....
R: You say it as if humans were only capable of acting decent if there were laws and society that restrained them. It means that once someone is freed from those constraints, he is free to do whatever he wishes to do, and I disagree with that. I have a hypothetical situation I wish to present here. Let’s imagine that there were two people who were lost somewhere in a snowy mountain. God knows when they’d be rescued. Supplies were running low and one of those two, not having enough physical endurance to bear it, died. From an egoistic point of view, it wouldn’t be shocking if the person who remained chopped his partner’s body up and ate him for supper. I mean, who would miss the chance of having extra protein in that circumstance? Yet, to think about consuming human flesh, even when one were in the verge of death due to hunger, is gruesome. This is despite the fact that that person was not bound by laws of society. There were only the two of them--he and his dead friend. Were he to eat his friend’s body, nobody would know. What I’m trying to say here is that humans aren’t as bad as you depict them to be. And there’s another thing. Based on your argument, civilization, society, and rules exist simply to protect an individual from other individuals. It means that individuals that don’t pose a threat for others are not bound by laws of society. In addition to that, there would be no need to protect such individual with those laws. Am I right?
TH: Well, that’s why there are individuals referred as “guardians” in the case of children and mentally disabled people, right? They might not pose threats for other individuals, but were someone to have the nerve to mess with them, their guardians would not like it one bit. That being the case, they do have the right to be protected by laws.
R: Yes, but that logic doesn’t work in the case of the person and his dead friend in the snowy mountain. The dead guy didn’t have a “guardian”. If the living person were to follow your logic, eating his dead partner wouldn’t be classified into wrong deed, would it? The dead person didn’t pose a threat and thus was outside the scope of laws and moral consideration. But eating a dead person is not right, whatever logic you may use. That’s why I disagree with your notion about human nature and social agreement being the only code that defines right and wrong.
Thomas Hobbes (TH): I do believe that humans are equal. But humans are also egocentric and what each person cares about the most is his well-being. The problem is, when all humans are equal and free and egocentric, what you get is constant battle amongst individuals so that they can get what they want. That’s why people need civilization. Without it, one individual is under constant threat of other individuals. People wouldn’t feel safe. Yes, humans would then be bound by rules and such, and wouldn’t be able to do everything that we like to do. In other words, they might not be as free as they were before, but at least one can go about his life without having to worry whether someone would sneak up on him, kill him, and take his belongings just because that other person felt like it.
R: I get the point. And when you’re living in a world where so many other people exist, it’s only normal that you have rules of some sort so that you can live in harmony. But something is amiss here. Your portrayal of human nature is so ... negative. Surely humans aren’t that bad? Most people don’t just go ahead and steal from others when they feel like it, do they?
TH: If there aren’t any laws to refrain them from doing so, who knows? I’m not so sure about that....
R: You say it as if humans were only capable of acting decent if there were laws and society that restrained them. It means that once someone is freed from those constraints, he is free to do whatever he wishes to do, and I disagree with that. I have a hypothetical situation I wish to present here. Let’s imagine that there were two people who were lost somewhere in a snowy mountain. God knows when they’d be rescued. Supplies were running low and one of those two, not having enough physical endurance to bear it, died. From an egoistic point of view, it wouldn’t be shocking if the person who remained chopped his partner’s body up and ate him for supper. I mean, who would miss the chance of having extra protein in that circumstance? Yet, to think about consuming human flesh, even when one were in the verge of death due to hunger, is gruesome. This is despite the fact that that person was not bound by laws of society. There were only the two of them--he and his dead friend. Were he to eat his friend’s body, nobody would know. What I’m trying to say here is that humans aren’t as bad as you depict them to be. And there’s another thing. Based on your argument, civilization, society, and rules exist simply to protect an individual from other individuals. It means that individuals that don’t pose a threat for others are not bound by laws of society. In addition to that, there would be no need to protect such individual with those laws. Am I right?
TH: Well, that’s why there are individuals referred as “guardians” in the case of children and mentally disabled people, right? They might not pose threats for other individuals, but were someone to have the nerve to mess with them, their guardians would not like it one bit. That being the case, they do have the right to be protected by laws.
R: Yes, but that logic doesn’t work in the case of the person and his dead friend in the snowy mountain. The dead guy didn’t have a “guardian”. If the living person were to follow your logic, eating his dead partner wouldn’t be classified into wrong deed, would it? The dead person didn’t pose a threat and thus was outside the scope of laws and moral consideration. But eating a dead person is not right, whatever logic you may use. That’s why I disagree with your notion about human nature and social agreement being the only code that defines right and wrong.
Labels:
insight
Friday, January 30, 2009
The Last Day 1/30/2009 09:01:00 PM
We who have been searching, we are alike, like reflections in a mirror.
All it takes for us to connect is to face each other, and yet we remain seperated.
I strained my eyes,
I stretched out my hand.
Deep asleep like a fossil, I await my awakening.
Rain falls,
Time goes by.
Hey I really, I really want to know,
Just what does it mean to love?
When you smile, the world shakes a little and glows,
As if it comes to live and draws a breath.
We who can't protect anyone, we left this half-asleep town behind.
Become the water,
Become the wind.
How futile it is to fight and rob for the sake of one's desires.
When I shouted it out loud, the world turned its back on me without a word,
It pushed me away as though it was testing me.
For a moment,
For eternity,
Since the beginning,
Till the furthest ends.
Hey I really, I really want to know,
Just what does it mean to live?
When I ask that question, the world shakes a little and glows.
The truth that sleeps within me is now quietly being released.
Notes: Yes, it's supposed to describe Syaoran's circumstances, but since I found that I could really relate with what being said, I decided to paste it down. My thanks goes to Dark Mirage at http://lyrics.darkmirage.com who had translated and transliterated the real thing.
All it takes for us to connect is to face each other, and yet we remain seperated.
I strained my eyes,
I stretched out my hand.
Deep asleep like a fossil, I await my awakening.
Rain falls,
Time goes by.
Hey I really, I really want to know,
Just what does it mean to love?
When you smile, the world shakes a little and glows,
As if it comes to live and draws a breath.
We who can't protect anyone, we left this half-asleep town behind.
Become the water,
Become the wind.
How futile it is to fight and rob for the sake of one's desires.
When I shouted it out loud, the world turned its back on me without a word,
It pushed me away as though it was testing me.
For a moment,
For eternity,
Since the beginning,
Till the furthest ends.
Hey I really, I really want to know,
Just what does it mean to live?
When I ask that question, the world shakes a little and glows.
The truth that sleeps within me is now quietly being released.
Notes: Yes, it's supposed to describe Syaoran's circumstances, but since I found that I could really relate with what being said, I decided to paste it down. My thanks goes to Dark Mirage at http://lyrics.darkmirage.com who had translated and transliterated the real thing.
Labels:
rambling
Unending Search 1/30/2009 08:59:00 PM
It's been two years and so since I started writing this blog and, interestingly, the hot topic I've constantly been writing about hasn't changed throughout the time. I'm still searching for meaning, without getting closer to the answer(s) than I was two years ago.
When I was in college, I thought the answer would simply materialize before me after graduation. That somehow everything would become crystal clear and that you'd understand instantly what you want to do and what it's all about. Alas, it didn't turn out like that. Life, as it seems, isn't as simple as school exams.
Sometimes I envy those who lead a simple life without thinking much. Their most crucial concerns seem to revolve around how to pay the bills, and that's it. Apart from that, they're pretty much content with the way things are going. I just can't lead such life. I'm restless over so many unresolved questions in my mind that I don't even know where to start searching for their answers.
But I digress. What I want to know now is: how to start searching? Should I just go with the flow? This option has already been rejected, since it'd be more likely for me to being drifted instead of arriving at my destination. Or would it be better if I just wait for some divine intervention to show me the way? I mean, this kind of method seems to be working in the past (with the Prophet Muhammad, the Buddha, and the likes). But wouldn't it be too much of a wishful thinking? After all, I'm not a holyperson. Or perhaps I should just choose a path, any path, and see what happens after that?
More importantly though, will this search ever end? Or is it just what life is all about: to go on an endless journey in search of something?
When I was in college, I thought the answer would simply materialize before me after graduation. That somehow everything would become crystal clear and that you'd understand instantly what you want to do and what it's all about. Alas, it didn't turn out like that. Life, as it seems, isn't as simple as school exams.
Sometimes I envy those who lead a simple life without thinking much. Their most crucial concerns seem to revolve around how to pay the bills, and that's it. Apart from that, they're pretty much content with the way things are going. I just can't lead such life. I'm restless over so many unresolved questions in my mind that I don't even know where to start searching for their answers.
But I digress. What I want to know now is: how to start searching? Should I just go with the flow? This option has already been rejected, since it'd be more likely for me to being drifted instead of arriving at my destination. Or would it be better if I just wait for some divine intervention to show me the way? I mean, this kind of method seems to be working in the past (with the Prophet Muhammad, the Buddha, and the likes). But wouldn't it be too much of a wishful thinking? After all, I'm not a holyperson. Or perhaps I should just choose a path, any path, and see what happens after that?
More importantly though, will this search ever end? Or is it just what life is all about: to go on an endless journey in search of something?
Labels:
rambling
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Resonance 1/18/2009 11:00:00 PM
If I make you bored
It simply means
We aren't meant for each other
Notes: Yay, my first try at haiku! Well, I'm not too sure if it's really a haiku since haikus are subtle (and all of them are about nature) while mine is too explicit. Don't blame me, though; I'm not Matsuo Basho.
It simply means
We aren't meant for each other
Notes: Yay, my first try at haiku! Well, I'm not too sure if it's really a haiku since haikus are subtle (and all of them are about nature) while mine is too explicit. Don't blame me, though; I'm not Matsuo Basho.
Labels:
poem
Guilty Pleasure 1/18/2009 10:57:00 PM
I don't smoke or drink and I don't do drugs either. Nor do I want to. I don't refrain from using the internet though, and I must admit that it can be quite addictive. I don't think I'm addicted to the internet--I mean, I didn't go through withdrawal symptoms when I couldn't use the net--but I can't be positively sure either, since addicts always deny the fact that they're addicted.
Recently, I've been very into Facebook. This is simply the same old thing that manifests itself in a different from. Some time ago I was much too keen on fanfictions for my liking, and now Facebook trades place with them.
I admit that it's stupid. Nerds who spend all their waking hours trying to crack computer codes make more sense than me and my crazy obsession with Facebook apps. There's a challenge in code-cracking, a challenge that makes your brain craved for more and more. Facebook apps? What the hell is so good about them that I'm always inclined to try them out every time I log in?
Last week, I spent three hours on the internet and most were spent on Facebook. Afterwards, I was left with a sense of guilt. Guilty because I spent my time and money for such a useless thing. Lucky that we still use the ancient dial-up internet connection at home. If the connection was faster, I don't know how much more time I would spend on it.
Nevertheless, I can't help wondering why I felt so pleased after I managed to send "gifts" to my friends and acquaintances via Facebook, or to add some collections to my Visual Bookshelf. Yet I know that it was a hollow feeling, meaningless. Did I become more of myself after I did that? Certainly not. So why the fulfillment?
Will I ever stop?
Recently, I've been very into Facebook. This is simply the same old thing that manifests itself in a different from. Some time ago I was much too keen on fanfictions for my liking, and now Facebook trades place with them.
I admit that it's stupid. Nerds who spend all their waking hours trying to crack computer codes make more sense than me and my crazy obsession with Facebook apps. There's a challenge in code-cracking, a challenge that makes your brain craved for more and more. Facebook apps? What the hell is so good about them that I'm always inclined to try them out every time I log in?
Last week, I spent three hours on the internet and most were spent on Facebook. Afterwards, I was left with a sense of guilt. Guilty because I spent my time and money for such a useless thing. Lucky that we still use the ancient dial-up internet connection at home. If the connection was faster, I don't know how much more time I would spend on it.
Nevertheless, I can't help wondering why I felt so pleased after I managed to send "gifts" to my friends and acquaintances via Facebook, or to add some collections to my Visual Bookshelf. Yet I know that it was a hollow feeling, meaningless. Did I become more of myself after I did that? Certainly not. So why the fulfillment?
Will I ever stop?
Labels:
rambling
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Of Senses and Soul 12/31/2008 03:47:00 AM
lone traveler had a very good point in her comment for "My World, Your World". She pointed out that even though she felt good being with people similar to her, in thoughts and views and all that, she sometimes resented the fact that some people did look like her, dress like her, or talk like her. How paradoxical is that! Well, it does make one wonder, but maybe it's not really paradoxical.
It's a definite fact that all humans, just like every other living being, are preprogrammed. No doubt that this is very upsetting, especially when you're a firm believer of "free will". However, for the sake of this particular argument, let's just drop the philosophical debate and save it for another occasion. So, not only that our program--our genes--defines physical aspects like hair color and such, but it also determines our "behavioral pattern" (I think that's how they call it). It's hardly surprising that humans everywhere are keen on food and sex, even though they might not readily admit it! After all, we, as a species, need food and sex in order to survive. And the survival of our species, my friend, is what our genes are most concerned about.
And it is also a definite fact that humans are weak. That's why we need clothing and housing. We need society too, because without them there's no way we (well, our ancestors) could win against mastodons or bison or sabertooth tigers or other gigantic animals that you care to mention. It's true even to this day: hunters-gatherers go about their business in groups, not individually.
At any rate, it's safer for an individual to be in a large group instead of being alone, survival-wise. Hard to believe as it is, we're still very much governed by this primitive instinct, perpetually imprinted on our genes. That being the case, despite the situation being so much different from that of our ancestor's some millennia ago, humans still find being in the company of people where they can just blend in very comforting.
Humans' obsession with the sense of uniqueness, the reason why being "one amongst the masses" irks us so much, is rooted from something completely different. It comes from the soul, the consciousness, or whatever it is that you call that nonmaterial entity within you. For our soul, the survival of our species is far less important than our existence. It observes itself and its surroundings, categorizes the world into "me" and "others", and asks those existential questions: where I came from, why I am here, where I'm going.
It's important for the soul to recognize that it is different from everybody else because otherwise, its existence is futile. Imagine this: if you're just one of those people, if you're not one of a kind, it means you are not special and thus, replaceable. What's the point of living then, when you exist simply for the purpose of becoming some sort of ecological spare part, so to speak? Most people might not know this, at least not in the conscious level, but I believe that deep down everyone realize it. No wonder humans crave uniqueness.
Writing this piece, it occurred to me that it's unnecessary for me--or everyone else for that matter--to deny these tendencies. All I have to do is embracing them because, really, that's what becoming human is all about.
Notes: Dedicated to lone traveler, in response to her question. It might not suit your taste very much, but it's the best explanation I can offer at this point.
It's a definite fact that all humans, just like every other living being, are preprogrammed. No doubt that this is very upsetting, especially when you're a firm believer of "free will". However, for the sake of this particular argument, let's just drop the philosophical debate and save it for another occasion. So, not only that our program--our genes--defines physical aspects like hair color and such, but it also determines our "behavioral pattern" (I think that's how they call it). It's hardly surprising that humans everywhere are keen on food and sex, even though they might not readily admit it! After all, we, as a species, need food and sex in order to survive. And the survival of our species, my friend, is what our genes are most concerned about.
And it is also a definite fact that humans are weak. That's why we need clothing and housing. We need society too, because without them there's no way we (well, our ancestors) could win against mastodons or bison or sabertooth tigers or other gigantic animals that you care to mention. It's true even to this day: hunters-gatherers go about their business in groups, not individually.
At any rate, it's safer for an individual to be in a large group instead of being alone, survival-wise. Hard to believe as it is, we're still very much governed by this primitive instinct, perpetually imprinted on our genes. That being the case, despite the situation being so much different from that of our ancestor's some millennia ago, humans still find being in the company of people where they can just blend in very comforting.
Humans' obsession with the sense of uniqueness, the reason why being "one amongst the masses" irks us so much, is rooted from something completely different. It comes from the soul, the consciousness, or whatever it is that you call that nonmaterial entity within you. For our soul, the survival of our species is far less important than our existence. It observes itself and its surroundings, categorizes the world into "me" and "others", and asks those existential questions: where I came from, why I am here, where I'm going.
It's important for the soul to recognize that it is different from everybody else because otherwise, its existence is futile. Imagine this: if you're just one of those people, if you're not one of a kind, it means you are not special and thus, replaceable. What's the point of living then, when you exist simply for the purpose of becoming some sort of ecological spare part, so to speak? Most people might not know this, at least not in the conscious level, but I believe that deep down everyone realize it. No wonder humans crave uniqueness.
Writing this piece, it occurred to me that it's unnecessary for me--or everyone else for that matter--to deny these tendencies. All I have to do is embracing them because, really, that's what becoming human is all about.
Notes: Dedicated to lone traveler, in response to her question. It might not suit your taste very much, but it's the best explanation I can offer at this point.
Labels:
insight
Sunday, December 21, 2008
My World, Your World 12/21/2008 01:29:00 AM
Heterogeneity is good, that much I know. Besides, could you imagine a world where everyone dressed alike, talks alike, thinks the same way? It'd be very boring, I believe. I can't think of anything more interesting than learning all kinds of cultures and ways of life--it gives color to our (my) at times mundane lives, don't you think?
That being the case, it really was a paradox when I found out that being with people who were different from me was extremely hard. It took a constant effort that it's tiring. "Different" here might mean differences in culture, interest, worldview, or even generation (well, I've always known that I'm not good at mingling with older people and kids).
Watching and listening to a variety of people as they reveal their uniqueness was an eye-opening experience and I loved it. But when the time came for me to jump in at it, I'd feel uncomfortable and awkward, big time.
It's like this: how can you relate to people when it seems like you have nothing in common? That's non sense, of course, because humans can always find something in common in one another, no matter how dissimilar they are. But what those similarities are, sometimes it's impossible to tell, and you can only scratch your head in frustration.
Like a particular scenario when I was in a place full of foreigners and someone started to tell a joke that made everyone roared with laughter. I smiled sourly; to me it was obscene, to them it was witty. How should I react in this highly uneasy situation?
And do you know what I wanted to do when things went in that direction? I wished I could just get out of this unknown territory and be with my closest people, talking about our hopes and fears, cursing the government for not doing their job well, singing our praises to that new movie, or just having some idle chatter. Does that make me a narrow-minded person? Or yet another proof that I need to improve my terrible social skill?
That being the case, it really was a paradox when I found out that being with people who were different from me was extremely hard. It took a constant effort that it's tiring. "Different" here might mean differences in culture, interest, worldview, or even generation (well, I've always known that I'm not good at mingling with older people and kids).
Watching and listening to a variety of people as they reveal their uniqueness was an eye-opening experience and I loved it. But when the time came for me to jump in at it, I'd feel uncomfortable and awkward, big time.
It's like this: how can you relate to people when it seems like you have nothing in common? That's non sense, of course, because humans can always find something in common in one another, no matter how dissimilar they are. But what those similarities are, sometimes it's impossible to tell, and you can only scratch your head in frustration.
Like a particular scenario when I was in a place full of foreigners and someone started to tell a joke that made everyone roared with laughter. I smiled sourly; to me it was obscene, to them it was witty. How should I react in this highly uneasy situation?
And do you know what I wanted to do when things went in that direction? I wished I could just get out of this unknown territory and be with my closest people, talking about our hopes and fears, cursing the government for not doing their job well, singing our praises to that new movie, or just having some idle chatter. Does that make me a narrow-minded person? Or yet another proof that I need to improve my terrible social skill?
Labels:
rambling
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Picture Perfect 12/14/2008 10:45:00 PM
I’ve long realized that I don’t take a fancy to cameras. Be it photographs taken for official purposes or simply for fun, most of the times I feel less than enthusiastic to pose in front of the camera. I always feel stupid every time I do so, all smiles and stuff. Even when I did willingly participate in all the silly proceedings of photo-taking, it was because I felt like I had to, for somebody else’s benefit or for mine (I certainly didn’t want to be left out), not because I couldn’t help seeing someone take a picture without me in it.
Of course, when people are having such a good time, it’s only normal for them to want a memento of some sort. A reminder of the good ol’ times, so to speak. And for quite a long time, that’s what photographs are all about. They capture the best (and sometimes the worst) of times, showing us a glimpse of reality as it was. And despite my reluctance for having my picture taken, I don’t see anything wrong with that. Besides, pictures can speak more than a thousand words. Or something like that, as they say it.
There were times when photographs were only taken on special occasions like weddings, births of children, and family gatherings. But now, since digital photography has made everything so easy, one can take pictures as many as he wants anytime and anywhere. Gone are the days when people were taking pictures with such care and precision (or else they’re just wasting their films), replaced by sloppiness and redundancy and narcissism of the extreme kind. Gone are the days when people actually dressed up before having their pictures taken; hell, people would gladly strip naked in front of the camera anytime these days, and for free, mind you (plus, they upload their own pictures to their personal website for everyone to enjoy them).
What concerns me is the fact that now, it seems, photographs have become more important than the moments they capture. People are so busy taking pictures and putting on their camera faces than living that precious moment. Or, as GIGI (or was it Slank?) said upon returning from a concert in Japan several years ago, “Everyone was taking pictures with their cameras and handycams that it seemed like they didn’t really pay attention to our performance.” Get what I mean?
Of course, when people are having such a good time, it’s only normal for them to want a memento of some sort. A reminder of the good ol’ times, so to speak. And for quite a long time, that’s what photographs are all about. They capture the best (and sometimes the worst) of times, showing us a glimpse of reality as it was. And despite my reluctance for having my picture taken, I don’t see anything wrong with that. Besides, pictures can speak more than a thousand words. Or something like that, as they say it.
There were times when photographs were only taken on special occasions like weddings, births of children, and family gatherings. But now, since digital photography has made everything so easy, one can take pictures as many as he wants anytime and anywhere. Gone are the days when people were taking pictures with such care and precision (or else they’re just wasting their films), replaced by sloppiness and redundancy and narcissism of the extreme kind. Gone are the days when people actually dressed up before having their pictures taken; hell, people would gladly strip naked in front of the camera anytime these days, and for free, mind you (plus, they upload their own pictures to their personal website for everyone to enjoy them).
What concerns me is the fact that now, it seems, photographs have become more important than the moments they capture. People are so busy taking pictures and putting on their camera faces than living that precious moment. Or, as GIGI (or was it Slank?) said upon returning from a concert in Japan several years ago, “Everyone was taking pictures with their cameras and handycams that it seemed like they didn’t really pay attention to our performance.” Get what I mean?
Labels:
insight