Here are a few common errors in speech that I've noticed (one, particularly, seems to be a localized phenomena at the post-secondary establishment of Sheridan College's Musical Theatre program).

What they say: P.S.
What they think they're saying: "by the way"
What they're actually saying: "the following text is written(even though they're speaking, and not reading) after the author's signature(even though they weren't writing anything)"
The logical fallacy here is that a written form can take place of a verbal one. It's as logically confusing as requesting an e-mail with "verbal instructions" when perhaps they mean "explicit," or "detailed," or "written," ...
How unfortunate for the author that the definition and meaning of "verbal" does not include "not visual".

What they say: per se
What they think they're saying: "[not] necessarily" (adverbial)
What they're actually saying: "in and of itself"
Here, in an adolescent abuse of attempted academic advancement, this latin phrase has been beaten and battered into serving the function in the place of a perfectly legitimate English phrase. The statement "he didn't die, per se," is now more commonly interpreted to mean "he didn't die, exactly" or "he didn't die, necessarily", when really, they're saying "he didn't die, in or by himself," which really makes no logical sense.
The statement, "that painting is beautiful, per se" actually means that the painting refered is beautiful on its own; it's intrinsically beautiful, rather than some clever arrangement of its lighting or framing, or location.

What they say: i.e.
What they think they're saying: "e.g.; for example"
What they're actually saying: "that is; specifically"
Often, the two are reversed, in which one will incorrectly say "e.g." when they in fact mean "i.e."
The difference between the two is actually quite easy to discern. The latin phrase "id est" (i.e.) means literally, "that is", and is used to specify something specifically after speaking about it generally. "E.g.," on the other hand, stands for "exempli gratia" which quite literally means "for example" or "for the sake of an example".
Thus, if I were talking about the gravitational pull of varying stars, it would be correct for me to say, "Stars with the greatest gravitational pull, i.e. black holes, ..." It would be inappropriate to say "e.g." in this case because only one, the black hole (or Schwartzchild Singularity, if you want to be historical), has the greatest gravitational pull.
And, if I wanted to illustrate what I meant, when talking about something highly abstract, it would also be appropriate for me to say, "derivational adverbs may be formed when the schwa vowel of the root word is maintained, and the morpheme -ly is appended to the end. E.g. lively.
A better example of displaying what I mean by the abuse of the two, I write the following two sentence fragments:
Those who gave birth to me, i.e. my parents, ...
Those who gave birth to me, e.g. my parents, ...
The first means that "my parents" is being specified and identified as the previously ambiguous form of "those who gave birth to me", whereas in the second sentence means something closer to, "those who gave birth to me, among whom were my parents, ..." which really makes no sense.

What actually impresses me is not so much the low calibre with which we seem to satisfy public education, so much as the ingenuity for individuals to corrupt and twist established words and meanings into illogical and unnatural concepts. It really gives rise to the despair.com quote, "none of us is as dumb as all of us!"

The "Nominal" Essay (Supplimentary)

Becauses I'm such a nerd, and a grammar freak, I cannot help but express this urge to share all I know about nouns (which I didn't get to do in my exam this afternoon).

[blahblahblah grammatic/semantic gender blahblahblah...]
An exception is the noun "child", which traditionally used to take the pronoun "it", as used as recently as by the eminent author, C.S. Lewis. However, in modern times, the pronoun "it" seems to carry a sub-human nuance, and thus, "child" either is repeated, or uses "he," "she," "s/he".

[blahblahblah Noun Cases blahblah...]
The genitive case, while described as being the modified proper noun possessive as in "Mary's lamb" or "John's eraser," is actually erroneous. The *true* genitive case, as well as the other cases as the Latin ablative, or the Russian instrumental, have all been replaced by prepositional phrases, yielding phrases like "the fang OF doom"(genitive), "the dart was thrown FROM the wall"(ablative), or "I go to school BY bus"(instrumental).

[...blahblahblah conclusion (the end!) blahblahblah]

Overall, it was pretty good, if a bit ridiculous. I spent almost an entire page just on the pluralizing rules for English nouns (the regular -s, and -es endings, as well as explaining the irregular forms for other pluralizing endings, as well as internal vowel shifts, as in "oxen", "geese", "mice", "cacti", "agenda"(as opposed to agendum), etc.)

And I'm pretty sure I lost a few points on the sentence-parsing tree diagram. So much for that perfect... Actually, I probably got significantly less than perfect. I have a bad feeling that I got 8.3/10 on the tree diagram, and only around 9.7/10 on the essay. If I'm lucky. 90% total!? Yes, I'm breathing. Really. Not hyperventilating, nope, not me, uh-uh, not at all...

I wonder what would have happened had I chosen to write on adverbials instead...

Greed

I had the pleasure of attending a guest lecture yesterday at Waterloo, titled "The Curse and Potential of Greed: Social and Political Issues Arising from Acquisitiveness".

Talked about the evils of greed, which we're all acutely aware in society, as in capitalist corporations and their shameless exploits of their employees and smaller companies (which they bleed dry), all protected by this system of legality which they created for themselves. Or in modern post-secondary institutions, as we can all relate to with the ridiculous rise in tuition.

But then, the orator gave an interesting spin on it, and offered some positive results of greed: those who have more have the potential to do more; philanthropy is only meaningful because those few people with a lot of wealth are able to contribute a lot and make something happen. (As opposed to the meager offerings of "normal" people, and their unco-ordinated efforts, which ultimately result in little being done.

He quoted several figures from history, most of whom were religious. One very interesting quote which I liked was, "Virtue gave birth to Prosperity, but the daughter killed the mother".

The lecture was recorded, but I have no idea where and when it'll be released, so I'll need my trusty UW spies to keep me informed. :)
You can read more about the guy and the intro to the lecture here

A lot of the ideas weren't really new to me; I've actually found it surprising that he actually mentioned so many of those points that my friends had disagreed with me on (or simply not considered). The same statements or statistics that have been iterated time and time again. That North Americans spend 10 or 15 times more on our pets than we do on humanitarian aid, that we spend several billion dollars on movies and the cinema every year, when all that money could have saved the whole of Africa from poverty and starvation.

Oh, what decadent times we live in...

Dvorak, Dvorak

As I type the following paragraphs, I struggle with the initial problems of adjusting to a new keyboard layout, the Dvorak keyboard layout!
This layout has claimed to be able more effecient than QWERTY keyboards, a point which is "hotly" debated. But aside from that, this Dvorak keyboard claims that it uses less "hurdling" than that used in the QWERTY system. (While actual typing speeds may not increase, it is said that a Dvorak typist's fingers travel 95% less than QWERTY typists, making it a more ergonomic preference.)

Kinda brilliant, keeping all the vowels in one area... and also things like consonant clusters, such as "th" "nt" "cr" "sn" "rl"...

I'm having too much fun with this... haha...

Sanguinary Serenity

  It's been a really long time since last I wrote here. What is there to say? Well, on the general life front, I'm pretty well. I'm enjoying myself at work, I'm getting enough sleep, I'm taking a course in English for general interest, ...
  On the health front, however, I am not doing so well. My extremely sensitive body does not like the extremely arid climate that Southern Ontarian winters wreck. And if it's not the outside weather, the heating system indoors is equally dry. I've had so many nosebleeds these past few weeks. It's been suggested that I may want to see a doctor. It's kinda calming though. Rather, it forces me to be calm. No sudden movements, and I can't afford to react overtly, as it would irritate what little scabbing managed to form inside my nose. And then *gush* comes the blood. It's kinda cool, how it makes such a nice contrast with my (relatively) pale skin, but sometimes health isn't worth the price for art.
  Speaking of art, I've recently been more into the "real" stuff of art. Anime is fun and all, but it's essentially cartoons, and I don't exactly draw anything meaningful with them. No dynamic compositions, no artistic expression, just meaningless mush. And since I now have two designer friends (one just graduated from Sheridan in Design, the other soon-to-be graduating from the same program), I'm getting into designer-type stuff. So, I'm creating my own typeface! Ha-ha. Even though I don't have the formal training that those two have, I hope that they won't stint on advice or knowledge in that area... I have a certain distaste for knowledge-elitists who insist that everybody else has to pay $7000 or so that they did for their education. Knowledge is free! And knowing isn't everything anyways... But I'm going to end here, ere I rant about epistimology.

Workaholic

  It's been far, far too long since last I posted. To update my dear and faithful readers (you really would have to be a faithful reader if you're still reading my blog after all these months/years of inconstant posting), I've been very, very busy! How?
  Thankfully quit my job at SSBC. It was a learning experience, a humbling experience and a traumatic experience, but one that I'm glad to have lived. The people were horrible, the managers incommunicable, the workplace unimaginable, the customers discourteous, and the location remote.
  So, now I'm working as a "lab assistant" for a digital photo imaging company. Completely digital, so very few chemicals involved. And I don't even get to touch the chemicals, so even fewer opportunities to poison my body with funny fumes. I've been doing stuff like cleaning up databases, merging and loading databases, designing and printing (highschool) student ID cards, and designing/printing pictorial directories(PD). PD's are what every principal of each school would normally have, in order to be able to have a face for every name. If, for example, parents call in complaining about a certain student, the principal will be able to look him or her up. And there are also barcoded pictorial directories. For the school libraries, and other cool stuff.
  Commute is a bit painful; I wake up at 6:00am, or 6:30am depending on how tired I am, barely manage to make it downtown to get into work (in Burlington) for 9:00am. Stay until 6:00pm, usually with only a 15 min. lunch break, and don't get home again until 8:00pm. Try to sleep before 11:00pm, so that leaves me with 3 hours of leisure - one of which is usually devoted to food. Small wonder I haven't had the time to read my peers' blogs, much less write my own!
  But I'm happy. My bosses are very nice and understanding and kind, and almost to a fault. My current wages with them is significantly higher than the minimum wage I was offered at that horrible, horrific fastfood restaurant.
  Not exactly an expert in my field, but I'm learning a LOT at the workplace, and it's really interesting stuff. One of my friends, in a one of his weaker moments of good taste, suggested that I might get bored of my job after a month or two. Why would he say such a thing? Can't he just be happy for me? But whatever, he wasn't the only one. Yes, I know Burlington is quite a distance away, but by public transportation, it can take that long to get from one place to another in Toronto alone! Of course, they're doing that for school, and school usually doesn't start at 9:00am every morning, so they kinda have it a bit easier than I, but hey, I'm enjoying it, if only for the moment, right?
  Other things aside from my current burning desire to do better and excel at my job? Well, I wish I had more time to practise piano. I also wish I had a piano upon which I could practise more properly. I can hear myself play everything soulessly, and it hurts. I need to learn to re-sensitize my fingers to that wonderful world of dynamics. Where ppp does mean something from fff, and staccato means something different from legato. Well, maybe in time...

Business

  What does it mean when everybody has trouble relating or reacting positively to your good news concerning your new or current job? Only that nobody cares.
  Well, no matter. I still have fun at my job, and I still have the society of my friends, so no harm done.

South St. Burger Co.

HORRIBLE time. Never want to work there again. And I wonder if the "necessity" of money outweighs the effects it has on my life.
I was on my feet since 3:30pm 'til 11:15pm. Only ONCE did I get a break and sit down, for about 10 minutes, during which, I had the opportunity to read the Operations Manual for SSBC. My feet hurt, my lower back aches, my hands seem to permanently smell like vegetable oil, and I'm now turned off food even more than before I worked there.
So that means that I'm inducing extra stress on my already-weak body, I'm bathing my hands in repugnant chemicals, and I'm making myself even more anorexic than I already am (comfortably underweight, according to my BMI).
As a short ingestion history surrounding my time at SSBC, (one day so far), 2 hours before I went in to work/train, I had only a fastfood combo (not very filling, nor very healthy). Worked for almost 8 hours with no breaks and no food. Came home, didn't feel like dinner. Now is lunchtime, I haven't had breakfast, and if I were any dumber, I wouldn't be having lunch either. The thought of food now churns my stomach because of the horrors I've had to bear witness to in the kitchen of SSBC.
Money isn't everything, and certainly not in this case. I'd gladly be broke than work there again. Even as a homeless youth, the smell I'd accrue would be more easily removed than that accurséd stench of vegetable oil.
Now I need another job.

Love

Just wanted to share a humerous poem by Ravi Zacharias, apparently written in his youth.

Slippery ice, very thin
pretty girl tumbles in.
Saw a boy, on the bank,
gave a shriek, then she sank.
Boy on hand, heard her shout,
Jumped right in, pulled her out.
Now she's his, very nice,
But she had to break the ice.

The other one can be found here.

Perfect

*deep breath*

'Was about to rant about a certain group of people, and their poor education, lack of articulation and scrambled lexicons. 'Wanted to complain about how communicating with them is more a labour than it is a pleasantry. 'Wanted to make a rebuttal to their attitudes that I, Captain Grammar, am being unnecessarily proper and strict with their [disastrously imperfect] English. And in fact, I actually did. I just deleted it immediately after. Why? 'Cause I already have enough enemies. And most of you already know my stance on languages anyways.

Instead, I'll talk about something more exciting: This Monday (August 22nd), Toyich International Projects will be hosting the Toronto Gala Monster Concert at Nathan Phillip Square. Why is it a Monster Concert? Because it'll be 20 pianists on 10 pianos!! It'll be a blast! I caught their Mel Lastman Square performance, and I was totally riveted with their arrangements of such orchestral suites as Mozart's Symphony 40 (1st Movement) and Rossini's various operas. So, for those of you who enjoy and celebrate the richness of the arts that our cultural centre, Toronto, has to offer, come on out on monday! It starts at 7:30pm! And I don't have a cellphone, so good luck finding me there! haha...

Filters

  It has often been postulated that the world would be a better place to live if people were honest and open with their thoughts and feelings. That social intercourse would be easier if we didn't have these "filters".
  What is considered a filter? A filter is a conscious effort to either enforce or discourage any number of things. A diction filter, for example, would restrict the language one uses. (e.g. filtering out swear words for the elderly, or big-words for children, etc.) There can be conversational filters, i.e. avoid talking about death or marriage to a recently widowed woman, or avoid vulgar jokes and crude humour with the "clean, christian crew". There can be gesticulatory filters, not slouching in public, or tapping one's foot on another's chair. Avoid eating foods with one's fingers, if possible. There can be clothing filters -- avoiding pink clothes, or refusing to wear baggy jeans, rejecting anything that isn't from the GAP. Many, many filters which seem to restrict our speech and manner when speaking with other people. Why can't we just be honest and do away with them?
  Isn't that a filter? Since when does a filter have to exclude things? As people who [hopefully] seek to progress and improve themselves in some way or fashion, tend to focus on one thing at a time. These are filters that are designed to exude some manner or quality of that person. There are therefore grammatical filters, in which students of a second language carefully form their sentences. There are dialectic filters, in which people consciously try to speak a certain way in order to fit in, or not stand out. There can be even diction filters, in which people try to display their pomp and pretension -- middle managers who try to use "professional" language in an effort to impress their colleagues. Students who seek to impress their peers by speaking only in slang. And yes, there can even be filters to use only "big words".
  Most of the time, these people are blissfully unaware of their efforts, and find it "natural" to use those words, or to wear those clothes, or to act in those ways. But here's a concept: manners, clothing and language itself isn't natural. They're all man-made. They are, therefore, all filters. There are those who have been with a filter for so long that they have refined it. E.g., people who are the pinnacle of good manners, or those who possess diction of lethal accuracy and precision. But those of opposite disposition, who suddenly seek to turn around their habits, while commendable, is somewhat laughable that they would claim that such a new habit is "natural".
  There are people who find the rules of etiquette to be formulaic and insincere, when they themselves use the same, formulaic responses. "Hey dawg," "haha... icic," "o i c k," "hey 'sup?" etc, etc. They may not carry the same flavour as "how do you do," or "it was a pleasure to have met you," but really, their usage is exactly the same. It is an autonomic, dry response just as sincere (or insincere) as those who would use the older phrases.
  To take it a step further, I am willing to go as far as to say that it is shere lunacy and idiocy to truely remove all filters from one's being. Speaking consistently in one language is a filter. Dressing clothes from the same era is a filter. Seeing people as humans is a filter. A lot of perspective is used through these filters. In other words, with assumptions. Yes, we shouldn't make certain assumptions, but it is quite impossible to live without any sort of assumption. (That you or I exist is a very nice assumption. That this world is real is another comforting assumption.) So those who think that people shouldn't use filters are like the epistemological skeptics (who were nicely disproved by St Thomas Aquinas).
In short, these people who are against filters in general are like "moral imperialists" who impose their morals of calling it wrong to imposing ones morals upon another.
  And no, I'm not saying that all filters are good and valid, but just that it's somewhat silly to think that we can exist without any filters at all.

Distinction and Discrimination

Living in a multicultural centre like Toronto makes it easy for one to regard the issue of racism as a thing of the past. Others, spurned by such prejudice often make the erroneous stance of equating lack of discrimination with lack of distinction. To not judge a book by its cover does not mean to pretend the cover doesn't exist.
As all of you (most of you should) know, I am a Canadian-Born Chinese (CBC). This means that I speak, read, write and understand English to an equal, if not better, proficiency as my Chinese. This also means that despite the North American clothing and decent education, I will still be regarded as an oriental male.
Now, having been obsessed with some sort of discrimination for the better part of my life, I've become familiar with certain concepts and motifs that crop up. I've noticed certain people (who shall remain nameless) who are hyper-sensitive to any hint of racism to the point of (what I personally find) idiocy. When asked to describe a person, they will give height, weight, body-type and shape, age and gender, but will consciously refuse to mention race. This is sheer idiocy, in my opinion, because if I want to know if I've met someone, I'm very likely to notice the approximate realm in the world whence this individual (or the individual's forefathers) came.
To consider the converse, let us assume that it is racist to identify the race of an individual. (So I am racist for describing someone as being Swahili, or Russian, or Malaysian, because it clearly does not serve any purpose in helping to recall the physical characteristics of the person.) And if one is to be non-discriminate of race, then one must also be non-discriminate of others -- of gender, because that would be sexist. So we cannot mention the sex of the individual in question. Because clearly, when we do, we've already imposed certain biases and stigmas that we associate between sex and personality. Therefore, we cannot also mention "trivial" things, such as height and weight, for who are we, that such superficial things would matter? We certainly aren't authoritative judges of beauty, certainly, and therefore cannot be as prejudiced as to describe someone as being "tall" or "fat". And we definitely cannot comment on the clothes one wears, because that is superficiality to the extreme. Fashion changes by the minute, and who are we to discriminate between those who can and cannot afford good taste in clothes?
What, then, do we have left to use to describe a person? Personality, clearly. Because it is obviously personality that one first notices when meeting a person. And obviously people would always give out personal details at the first meeting.
Hopefully you gleaned my point through that emotional, sarcastic rant.
It is NOT racist to identify one to be of a race (if only by appearance). I may be Canadian, but I certainly *look* Chinese (unless you're one of those asian-racists who insist that there is a *clear* distinction between the east-asian countries, in which case you might think I'm Japanese or Korean). Is it racist to have a culture? Is it racist to speak another language? Please...
Now, there are times when it *can* be racist to call someone by their race. Here are some examples of what I find to be acceptable and unacceptable statements involving a person's race:
1. a) Have you met Tom? He's my age, jewish, and about 5'8, with blue eyes, and short, gelled-back hair.
1. b) Bah, Tom's always trying to save money; he's Jewish!
2. a) I'm not sure if I've met Nancy. Is she the one from Ethiopia?
2. b) No, I'm not friends with Nancy; I don't have any Ethiopian friends.
It should be obvious which ones I find acceptable and which I don't but just in case, the first of the two sets (that is, the a) lines) are fine to use, in my opinion, whereas the b) lines are slightly dangerous ground.

Now, that was a very long introduction to the actual topic I wanted to write. Having established that racism is a bad thing, but that culture is a good thing, consider what happens when you mix the two. CBC literati sneeringly label Caucasians with East-Asian interests as sinophiles or japanophiles. Chinese parents of CBC's call their English-proficient children "bananas" (yellow on the outside; white on the inside).
Despite the alleged antiquity of racism, most of us still retain a curious sentiment concerning those of culture. It doesn't "seem right" when one of Chinese descent is instructing an English class in a Canadian highschool. It's "just wrong" when a Russian gentleman is tutoring CBC children the many characters in the Chinese written language. A Japanese TA's authority on the language is discredited because he is not Japanese. Caucasian students are discouraged from taking Korean because they "can never be Korean".
Where does this ideology come from? Why does it exist? Is there a genetic correlation between the knowledge of the (very arbitrary) rules of conduct for any given culture, or the linguistic knowledge of any given language? No. It just requires a degree of intelligence and some memory, two things that every race possess.
But sadly, these arguments only have a hope of being heard in such an open place as here in North America. The Japanese couldn't care less if you had an IQ of 300 and PhD in English; if you aren't a [natural] blonde-haired, blue-eyed caucasian female, odds are, they don't want you teaching English in their classrooms.
It's just lucky for most of us who are enamoured by other cultures (invariably the older, ancient version of that culture), that most older cultures share many common points. Parents of these older cultures are all considered "conservative" -- a term that seems to be internationally recognised. The jokes of saving money equally applies to the Indians as it does to the Chinese, as it does to the Jewish, as it does to the Russians. Why? Because we were there when war waged through the world. We weren't idling by in our infancy while the rest of the world slowly slaughtered itself, waiting for the most opportune moment to strike and become the world's leading economic power.
*cough*
Politics aside...
Yes, the world is slowly becoming more multicultural. Even if most of China isn't used to seeing a caucasian on the streets, the Chinese still recognise that English is pretty useful to use in the world outside their [very, very large] borders. Almost all countries of note have tours available in almost any language imaginable. And yet...
How would the people react if I, a Chinese, were to start dressing like an English gentleman? What if I somehow managed to marry the daughter of a Duke or Earl and became an English noble myself? Somehow, I doubt the British public would be so forgiving. It's all very well for me to know the history, culture and language of England better than most of the English would, but yet it would be unacceptable for me to actually live the part. For whether I have a British citizenship, I still wouldn't be English.
It's reassuring to see how far we've come in the past century. Here is a poem written by Thomas Burke in around 1920, called An English Gentleman:

I determined yesterday to become English gentleman;
And I have this morning bought a bowler hat.
I have bought brown boots and a suit of rare blue serge,
Which the affable one who supplied me with it
Spoke of as Natty, and added his assurance
That I would look Quite the Gentleman.
I have bought white collars and many-coloured ties,
And a walking-stick and a blue-spotted shirt.

Apparelled thus, I strolled this evening down Pennyfields,
And the old men came out with expressions of no-kindness.
They made ugly mouths,
And passed words one to the other of a derisive nature.

But I am young Quong Lee,
Who write verse in the English tongue,
And am quite English gentleman.
And English gentleman
Not suffer himself to be disturbed by hooting of owls.

Hacker

I'm so proud of myself; I made my first successful Firefox search engine! Had to look at some source code of some other search engines (like the default google one), but all in all, I did it ... my way~♪

So now I can look things up in a japanese dictionary. yey. If I ever find a decent online Chinese dictionary, I'll be sure to add it. :P

Komm, Süsser Tod

I know, I know I've let you down
I've been a fool to myself
I thought that I could
live for no one else
But now, through all the hurt and pain
Its time for me to respect
the ones you love
mean more than anything
So with sadness in my heart
'feel the best thing I could do
is end it all and leave forever
whats done is done, it feels so bad
what once was happy now is sad
I'll never love again
my world is ending

I wish that I could turn back time
'cause now the guilt is all mine
can't live without the trust from the ones you love
I know we can't forget the past
you can't forget love and pride
because of that it's killing me inside

It all returns to nothing, it all comes
tumbling down, tumbling down,
tumbling down
It all returns to nothing, I just keep
letting me down, letting me down,
letting me down

In my heart of hearts,
I know that I called never love again
I've lost everything, everything
that matters to me,
matters in this world

I wish that I could turn back time
'cause now all the guilt is mine
can't live without
the trust from those you love
I know we can't forget the past
you can't forget love and pride
because of that, it's killing me inside

It all returns to nothing, it just keeps
tumbling down, tumbling down,
tumbling down
it all returns to nothing, I just keep
letting me down, letting me down,
letting me down
It all returns to nothing, it just keeps
tumbling down, tumbling down,
tumbling down
it all returns to nothing, I just keep
letting me down, letting me down,
letting me down

Mine English Empery

For those of you who know me, as some of you are already woefully ruing, I am a sesquipedalian bibliophile. Moreover, I am a traditionalist, an imperialist and a very shrewd grammarian. I am also seeking to become a discerning dialectician, although with the advent of globalisation, I fear that a lot (if not most) of the richness of any language will be lost with the death of its dialectic diversity.
And as some of you may be keen to guess, I was not always like this. There was a time when I (or rather, the physical origins of my body) was a single cell in the womb of my mother, mindlessly multiplying into the multi-cellular organism I am today.
But as for my linguistic history (as I'm sure you're all dying to know), I was born and raised in Toronto, Canada, a predominantly English-speaking nation. However, being born to parents of foreign birth, the English tongue was not introduced to my linguistic faculties until I was nigh six years of age. So, with a willful and determined mind (something I've seem to have lost since), I sought to learn the rudiments of English speech and spelling. I still remember to this day, the first book I was able to read on my own, as well as the first word with which I had trouble pronouncing. The book was called Hello House, and it was about this rabbit who would always manage to thwart his predator wolf. The word I had trouble reading was "house". I would first try to read it was "hoe-wu-ss". Come to think of it, I should have been raised in German; at least it's phonetic. ("Bearbeit", for example, is pronounced be-ar-bite.)
Now I was the proud owner of a set of phonetic rules of the English language, so I set out to devour as much as I could with these new tools. I read, and I read and I read. I read so much, in fact, at such a speed, that when I was placed in the "advanced reading circle", my peers there in the second grade were in disbelief that I finished reading about twice or even thrice as fast as they did.
And I wasn't a picky reader either back then. As a child with virtually no power or lnfluence, it was natural for those of my demographic (at the time) to be enticed by the concept of a skill and science that would enable the user power and persuasion. And what was that? Magic. Or more generally, fantasy.
Not to say that I dislike fantasy now, but just simply that I had no taste for literature when I was a child. Novels? They were long, but boring and dry. Who would want to read Pride and Prejudice? There were no dragons in it!
And as time waned by, after my succession of old and soon-to-be retiring teachers (with all their strict and stern rules of grammar and writing), I naturally developed a strong sense of language, that has been growing ever since (especially now with my introductory education into linguistics).
Now, by no means do I claim to be an expert on language. Granted, my interests in grammar and language are not shared by many of my age (or even by those one or two generations above me), and so by virtue of being interested in something most aren't, I automatically seem to become a leading authority on the subject. But, for example, I still don't know what a "dangling modifier" is, even though I've heard that grammatical term many times before. What are the six cases for all nouns? Nominative, accusative, dative, genitive, ablative and vocative. But what do they all mean? I've no idea what the ablative is, though after making this post, I'm of a mind to find out.
So yes, my knowledge of the English language (or of any language) is terribly incomplete, and I fear will always be so, if only because of a certain curséd fact that languages live, and are always changing.
But, I do intend to (eventually) earn my PhD in linguistics, after which I hope to teach class in university and have my nerves wracked after every class from the new generation of youth with their staggeringly incomplete and imperfect grammar.
So there you have it, the abbreviated, linguistic life and times of Joseph Tam.
Oh, and I should add that though my language has not always been as it is, I was always raised in that standard.
And although I do enjoy editing your essays (in which I hope I'm helping a friend), please have the decency to do three things (these courtesies which should be extended to any peer editor):

1. Attach a copy of the assignment so that the editor (i.e. I) have a better idea what the essay is supposed to address.
2. Allow yourself the time to go through your finished essay once before tossing it in my direction, expecting me to up its grade by 20%. While I do find the natural and subconcious errors of language intriguing, I would rather analyse those for my thesis than having to cut through them in a vain attempt to glean what you mean to say.
3. Give me at least two days to edit your essay. Especially if you know your English to be particularly weak (e.g. non-native speaker, or not very well-read, etc), certain awkward phrasing that you invent will take me a little more time than 20 minutes to phrase and re-phrase into a better, natural sentence.

So that's my English rant for the day. Don't flame me for any small error I make; I myself acknowledge that we're all human, and that we're all prone to error. I'm just a stickler for certain things because I find them to be very basic and rudinmentary. If, for example, in a friendly, casual conversation, someone says "protractor" when they mean "compass", I'll let it slide. But other howling errors (such as the redundancy contained in "from whence did you come") I will be more quick to correct.

What was the point of this post? I don't remember any more. That just goes to show what a good writer I am. Ha-ha.

Totally irrelevant, but here's a quote I found immensely hilarious:
"You don't die of heart-break; you only wish you did."

The Apostrophe

In many young writers today do I see a (what I like to call the) Apostrophe Catastrophe. Below are some (but by no means complete) list of rules for when an apostrophe should be used.

When some of a word or phrase is omitted (including contractions). e.g.:
Good morning - g'morning - 'morning
I was born in 1983 - I was born in '83 - 'born in '83
I have gone - I've gone

To form the plural of numerals and acronyms. e.g.:
In the eighteen hundreds - In the 1800's
I own many compact discs - I own many CD's.
There are so many chief executive officers in my company - there are many CEO's in my company

Possessives (of singular nouns) e.g.:
This book belongs to Stacy - this is Stacy's book
Listen to the words of Jesus - listen to Jesus' words
We're the top radio station in Toronto - we're Toronto's top radio station

Possessives (of plurals) e.g.:
All my friends have broken computers - all my friends' computers are broken
Men have few thoughts - men's thoughts are few
Sinophiles have freaky behaviour that scare me - sinophiles' freakish behaviour scare me

Although the people to whom I'm mostly directing this post probably don't read, I do hope that you, dear reader, will have found this to be at least a little interesting, if not educational.

Carpe Diem

"Live every day as if it were your last, for one day it will be."

Intellectually, I think we can all understand and appreciate the weighted meaning behind these words. That we all take life for granted, no amount of planning or plotting will prevent the eventuality of death.
But how many of us actually heed these words? I myself, after some time alone have given some thought to the matter, and I've realised that no matter how many times I'm reminded of these cute phrases, they never really hit home until I myself have a near-death experience. (Of course, it could be argued that those who don't live life fully aren't really living, so really I just need a "near-life" experience.)
How many days have I wasted this summer on pure nothing? Meaningless conversations online, random blog stalking, drawings without a future or purpose, playing piano without focus or determination. And all for what?
Even if I were to be "productive", if I truely practised piano diligently, if I went through my entire list of books to read, if I managed to improve and polish all those languages I've shown interest in, for what would it all be?
What is our purpose in life? Upon which are the foundations of our society? In the end, most of what we do in life are just chasings after the wind.
Just some food for thought.

Double Standards

There seems to be an intrinsic duality in nature. Dark-Light; Male-Female; Life-Death. Perhaps that is part of the reason why we have so much trouble conceiving the nature of the Trinity. But that is not what I purpose to discuss in this entry. Rather, that our perception often is equally binary as well (and perhaps more so in men). E.g. You are either friend or foe. After a pursued relationship, a girl can only either be a girlfriend or of no relation at all.
And it is in this vein of thought in which I first ideated the following contents of this post. How many of us have an idea of whom we'd like to be with? How many criterions do we have clearly defined for our Lady Love or Prince Charming? How many of us have a very good idea what would be the "perfect" guy/girl for ourselves?
But therein lies the problem. We're so busy looking outwards, dreaming in imaginary worlds that we often forget to stop and look at ourselves. If you have such a clear image of the perfect mate, and let us be generous and surmise that it is indeed perfection for this purpose, why would they pick you to be their partner?
(And apparently this concept is very abstract, as a certain incorrigible, obtuse, obstinate individual had great difficulty grasping at the basic concept I've outlined here.)
Simply stated, the question, then, is thus: If that perfect person exists (and let us assume that s/he both exists and matches your definition of perfection in a mate), why would they pick an imperfect you?
The basic idea is this: we, imperfect and full of flaws yearn for something "better", a sort of "perfection", a higher standard. But while all slow-witted slobs would love to marry a certain type of woman, I think it is fairly safe to say that very few intelligent beauty pageant winners would even feign to consider such an aforementioned slob.
Am I saying that you should give up on your dreams of the perfect woman because it's hopeless? Maybe, but that's not entirely my point either.
Perhaps instead of whittling the days away deranged and depraved on some desperate dream of stastistic improbability, one should instead focus on oneself. (And no, I don't mean to say that you should be more selfish.)
If one has a goal in mind (in this case, this elusive, quite possibly ethereal perfect mate), what does one plan to do about it in order to work towards its success? Yes, stereotypes are bad, nerds also have feelings, blah, blah, blah, but when it really boils down to it, are you so attractive to those to whom you are attracted?
Ah, one might argue, but part of his/her perfection would be his ability to look beneath the superficial and love me for whom I am. And while that may be true, what's stopping this perfect prince from finding someone better? And between you and someone better, why should they pick you?
So really, what have you got at the end of your useless and ultimately unproductive fantasising? minutes (or hours, or days, or eras, whatever unit of time applicable) wasted, and nothing gained. ..Except, perhaps, the temporary, false euphoria induced by indulging in such silly dreams, only to wake up to the bitter taste of reality.
(Given my tangents and my side notes, you can tell I haven't spent a lot of time thinking about the structure of my arguments.)
If it's ok for you to be so superficial to want the ideal mate to be this and that, isn't it only natural for him or her to be equally superficial in her quest for her ideal mate? If it's ok to want a girl who's gorgeous, why can she not demand that same physical perfection? (Or is that why the head cheerleader always ends up with the star quarterback?)
All of us have opinions about others and society, the outside world, philosophy, all these things which are wonderfully removed from us, however related they are to us. But how many of us actually bother to wonder about how we figure into these oceans of personalities, our place in these societies, our significance in our philosophies?
If you're so free to fantasise about your dream girl, or dream job, or dream residence, then stop dreaming and WORK! (practical examples follow)

E.g. if you are attracted to the sort of girl who is shy and proper, do you really think wiping your mouth with your sleeve is really the best way to win her over?
If you're a japanophile who only lives under antiquated and over-stereotyped views of japanese society and worship japanese animation as if it were a pantheon of gods, then you could either wake up and realise it's never happening, or learn to wash your face a little more often, learn the art of subtlety that your conceived master race is supposedly so adept at, and learn the language!

Yes, I realise that some of this is highly superficial and that the greater half of the past three decades have been spent dispelling just that. But really, some of it is an excuse for laziness. While it may be base and superficial to judge someone on his physical appearance, personal hygiene is both an attractive quality and good for your own health. "Don't judge people by appearances" and suddenly both the number of anorexic and obsese people rise up at unnatural rates (both considitions of which, aside from being equally unsightly, are problematic andd equally dangerous to one's health)."Perfection is an impossible goal" they say, and suddenly national literacy plummets. People can't spell anymore and we marvel at the 19th century citizens for seemingly having this higher mental faculty which now seems to be lacking in the modern population. "If it can't be applied, it's useless", and suddenly with the expulsion of classical languages from the classroom, diction falls into disarray; the loss of literature for law and people fail to understand simple phrases and concepts.
And I think it is due to this modern attitude, at least in part, which we have to thank for our current population of decadence, laziness and general degeneration.

So in summary, and as reinforced by the title of this post, if you've such a clear image of who you want to be with, you should also have a pretty clear image of who that person would want to be with. Don't hold people up to such a high standard if you're not willing to be held by the same (or equivalent) standard.

Yes, I realise that this all sounds awfully preachy, and definitely not one of my more politically correct posts, but it's late, I'm tired and emotionally charged about the topic as I think more and more about certain associations I've been cursed with. (Not that I'm going to name any names, but you may rest assured in knowing that some come from Waterloo.)

五十歩笑百歩

In Chinese, this phrase is literally translated to, "he at 50-paces ridicules him at 100-paces". A fair approximation in English is, "the pot calling the kettle black". Why do I bother mentioning this? Well, aside from enriching your Chinese vocab by a picometre, I think it aptly describes a variety of people.
I'm hesitant to call them hypocrites, because it implies that they don't do it at all, which isn't really the case here. Nay, what I'm talking about here are those who are only half-way and yet look down on those who aren't. Case in point are the many students I've had the misfortune of meeting in the course of my education. English, being a rather common language spoken around here, manages to garner a reasonable amount of attention. And as all people discover at one point or another, not everyone speaks quite the same way. Some people use fancier words, some people speak more directly, others are very taciturn, etc, etc.
I don't think there is a "wrong" way to speak (except grammatically), but even then, it's a bit of a lost cause, since conversation is all about compressing information instead of elocution. But there are some, more often of foreign birth (like myself), who wish to rise above their birth and find for themselves a seat in society, instead of just one that is expected of them. These people will wish and want to better and improve their English, to be more natural, more intelligent and loquacious.
And that's not wrong. I myself am one such a person who was dissatisfied with what I was simply given, and decided to better my language through the efforts of reading a very large number of books. I encourage those who would seek to improve themselves and better those parts of themselves which they *can* change [naturally]. (Plastic surgery is something else, and something I don't want to get into.)
BUT, I do have a problem with people who are only halfway there and not only think that they're already all the way there, and who look down on others who aren't even halfway there. In this specific case of English and communication, it would be those who have perhaps expanded their vocabulary, maybe as much as 50%, but who have no concept of literature, or what it means to be literary. They condescend those whom cannot even bother with the few precious necessary seconds to look up the definition of a word when yet they themselves are no literati.
Words are only the beginning, my friend. It is how they are used in conjuction with each other, that they start to matter. Do not use a larger word just because it is sesquipedalian. I personally use a word because it fits and sometimes does the job of many words. It's a bit of an irony, but the more words one knows, the less words one needs to write. Consider:
"She threw her homework out the window"
vs.
"She defenestrated her homework"
Two whole words were saved, out of an original six. But I would still use a small word if it fit just as well. Promulgate may be a "good" word, but the phrase still remains as "spread the Gospel". Nobody says "Promulgate the Gospel".
I'm sure some of you can see a recurring theme here in my thoughts. It basically boils down to fractals, if I may be so bold as to make that analogy. We have an opinion of something or someone, which we may call our relation. And they in turn may have a similar relation with another person. But how many of us consider whether we are in someone else's relation? Visually, it's a self-repeating pattern, like two mirrors which are face-to-face. We are but one small reflection, seeing many smaller reflections, but yet not considering whether we ourselves are a relfection in a larger mirror.
But it's all the same! I know I'm not perfect and that's precisely why I prefer not to confront people about their flaws because I know I have mine too. But, one thing that I cannot abide by is people who look down on people for having flaws or characteristics which they themselves have (even if it's just a smaller degree).
I think Emily Post says it best when she wrote, "when you see a woman in silks and sables and diamonds speak to a little errand girl or a footman or a scullery maid as though they were the dirt under her feet, you may be sure of one thing; she hasn’t come a very long way from the ground herself," in her book Etiquette, published 1922.
In summary, it's good to strive to better oneself, and self-improvement is certainly no vice. But those who would look upon others with contempt shouldn't be so sure that they aren't so contemptuous themselves.

Social Relativity (Part II)

As promised, however late, hier ist mein Wortschwall der soziale relativität. Any relationship (used here to describe any rapport between two persons, whether it be familial, friendly, or romantic) is always in three states: the state in which it "is", the state in which party A thinks it is, and the state in which party B thinks it is. And in any relationship, since one's perspective is the only one that one has, it is the only one one cares about.
Therein, tragically, lies the difficulty. A relationship may actually be a tremendous success, but one party might tend to think negatively and see it as only doomed to go downhill. Or both parties could be delusioned with failure, when the relationship could have been a success.
In considering this, imagine how different things would be if one could know "the" truth about one's relationships with others. How many people would be freed from their burdens, and how many more would find happiness? (Although I do realize that knowing something and acting on that knowledge are two different things. Prime example being me; I *know* it's healthy to exercise, but I'm still the skinny, sedentary, senescent sesquipedalianist.)
Although I do have certain very specific relationships in mind (some of which directly include me, others which have me included), I shan't specify them here, for fear of discovery. (I've found that anonymity seems to be a popular practice on the internet.)
But here basically are the facts: with varying personalities, there are also varying abilities. People have different compatibility rates, and people also have varying degrees of observation. One can therefore easily speculate how a relationship could hypothetically contain two persons with a relatively low compatibility rate (given their personalities), where one of the two parties has a particularly low level of observation, therefore being more prone to delusions of emotions, elongating the duration of the relationship, and only further torturing and tormenting the poor soul on the other end. Let this sort of relationship be called the "Blind" relationship (because as humans, we all have an obsession for naming things).
One ought also to easily be able to conceive of a relationship in which the two parties have a reasonably high compatibility rate (for their personalities), but one of the two parties is particularly sensitive and tends to dwell on the negative, thereby concluding the relationship to be in decline. This relationship we shall name the "hypochondrial" relationship.
It is easy for us (or perhaps some of us) to think of relationships in our own lives which fit the description of the blind and the hypochrondrial. But imagine every friendship in which you were the one who tended to initiate contact, propell the conversation forward, advocate get-togethers. What if you were the blind one in a blind relationship?
Think of all the relationships in which you think you easily get along, but too much history has happened and there's simply too much "past" for things to go back to the way they used to be. What if you were the hypochondriac in a hypochondrial relationship?
In the same way that you would wish to instantly break all ties with the blind in blind relationships, would you appreciate it if your "friends" instantly broke all ties with you for being equally blind?
In the same way that you would wish to end all relationships that simply had too much history, would you appreciate it if your friends ended their relationships with you for their hypochondria?
It's easy to answer those questions when we only think about ourselves, but how many of us bother to consider if we've ever been on the receiving end of our own actions?

Of course, there are less destructive relationships which also illustrate this relativity (or imbalance). Between the pair AB, A may consider B to be A's best friend, but B may only see A as a good friend. Reasons are innumerable. A might have fewer friends, or B might have more criteria, &c, etc.
How, then, are we to proceed? In every one of our relationships, the other person is certain to think differently of you than you of him/her. Communication, obviously. But there is one small problem about language. A lawyer put it best when he said, "years in the legal service have only taught me to distrust language".
Then perhaps in actions? After all, actions speak louder than words, right? With our acts of respect and affection, surely we would be able to convey what we wish? Ah, but there is one small problem -- the loophole, as it were, of the Golden Rule. (The Golden Rule being "do unto others as you would have them do unto you".) Say, for example, that one respects another by not looking at his watch -- he feels that it implies he is bored and finds more excitement in knowing the time than continue conversing with his partner. Suppose the partner is meticulous about punctuality and is also incidentally eternally busy with meetings. Then they are eternally offending each other while still observing the golden rule because while the one is willing to be a little late for the sake of a good conversation, the latter is always obsessing over time, subtlely insulting the one. The latter is also perpetually insulted at the lack of one's punctuality and untimely partings, which often are the cause of his tardiness at his following meetings. And this isn't even an extreme example (because it would be easily resolved through the imprecision of words). But other times it cannot be remedied, if the faults are integral to the personality. (If, for example, one were considerably more contact-based, and the other not touchy-feely.)
The purpose of this rant is not to say that we're all doomed, or to give some sort of clever solution to this problem (is there a solution to the egocentric predicament? I don't remember..), but rather, to just make aware the possibility that the relationships you are in may not quite be the same condition as you think of them.
So remember kids, if I take a long time to respond to your MSN messages, and come up with half-baked excuses, you can depend upon it that I probably think of you as being in a blind relationship.
Or more seriously, don't be too quick to dismiss people, especially if you're unsure of your own faults. Nobody's perfect, and nobody should be. But do you really want to be the sort of idiot who would break off relationships with people for the same faults that your other friends have been forgiving you for for a long time? Hrmm...

Nomenclature

In the words of our irrepressible pride of the English language, "a rose by any other name would smell as sweet".
That just serves as an intro; I'm not going to get into the linguistic side of things. But there certainly is something to think about in our own lives; how closely do we identify with our own names, and/or how actively do we seek to change them? That distinction is sometimes made between one's birth-name, and nicknames, nuances that denote varying levels of familiarity.
And before we continue, I just have to add this because it's been bothering me of late: when introducing two people, no matter which order you do it in, always say the person's birth-name first, then followed by any prefered nicknames. Someone, and I won't say whom, made the grevious error of reversing the order, thereby thoroughly confusing me and consequently, retarded my eagerness to better acquaint myself with him.
Anyways, back to names. I, for example, am very sensitive to names. I may not know the meaning of most names, but I do err on the side of propreity than presumption. "Joseph" is the most commonly accepted form to address me, while "Joey" requires a few more stipulations. "JT" is also acceptable, but only to appease incorrigible parties to whom presumed familiarity is a way of life. Imagine the fun I would have if I actually had a title... (e.g. Doktor, Sir, Marquis, Duke, etc.)
How is it with you? Or rather, how aware are you with your own name(s)? Or more importantly, how careful are you when you use another's name? Whether subconscious or not of the speaker, would you as the listener find it more intimate and personal if addressed with your name in addition to a salutation? How much more personal is "good night, Joseph" than "g'night~"?
I realize that such precise etiquette is quite antiquated, but is its current disuse a sign of evanescence, or rather, that it is becoming progressively internalized and subconscious? Would that we had patronymics as in Russian!

Storm

Sometimes, I really don't know when to just leave well enough alone.

I hope they'll find a way to forgive me...

Social Relativity

Too tired to blog now, but I'll come back to it tonight... or tomorrow.
But in short, however close you feel to someone isn't necessarily how close they feel to you. I've certainly seen my share of that in the past month, and I'm sure I'll be seeing more of it soon. Friendships are often like relationships in the sense that most of it is build on feelings. The problem is, it's harder to "break up" with a friend. But man, do I ever want to do that right now. I just can't stand the sort of person who's all feeling and no head. It's great if they can feel the sorrow of a million hearts, but if there's not intellect to help stabilize their condition, it's sheer lunacy. Such people are often blind to the truth and create a dream-world in order to function properly. They often think that they're special because they're convinced that they're able to get along with that much more many people than most others (when really, they're just equally bad at getting along with any specific group).
As a person, I'm sick and tired of enduring the askance insults, but the most damning part of it all is that I don't think that person realises that he's being offensive. And then he gets mad at his "friends" when they "abandon" him. Go figure.
And although it is true that idiocy is no vice, it is certainly something I'd rather not have to try my patience with.
But here's the best part: they think they're so special that they think the side of you they see is really all you are. They feel concern for you as a person because they wonder how you get by in life. But I wonder if they've ever considered the fact that just maybe, the dynamics are different with different people? Just because I'm not open with person X doesn't necessarily mean that I won't be open with person Y.
I could try to be fair and make this an intellectual exploration on the general imbalance within a friendship, but instead I think I'm gonna go with my emotions and just vent about why I don't want to be friends anymore with that certain someone.
So no comments. Well, unless you're just dying to say something in which case you probably already know me and would therefore have me on your MSN or something. Rant to be continued/revised tomorrow, after I get some sleep.

Once upon a time, ...

On the most random trip to the local library with a friend, I ended up borrowing 4 books from the Foreign Languages section. Two in German and two in Japanese. Of the two in German, one is called Deutsche Volksmärchen (German folk tales), and the other is called Zeit zu leben und Zeit zu sterben (A Time to Live and a Time to Die). The Japanese titles are 《雲ながれゆく》 (Clouds Flow by), and 《海外からみた日本》 (Japan Perceived Overseas).
One thing I noticed is that Germans don't seem to be very big on table of contents (at least in the two books I managed to borrow). I guess it's good in the sense that it forces the reader to go in a linear fashion, but on the other hand, it's harder to gauge what exactly the book is about. I'm interested in fairytales, so Deutsche Volksmärchen automatically intrigued me, but Zeit zu leben und Zeit zu sterben only had an interesting title (consider Ecclesiastes 3:2).
A quick google search reveals that Zeit zu leben und Zeit zu sterben is a reaaaaally deep book. And the language isn't easy either. I wonder how far I'll get. Of course I'm going to start on the Fairytales book first. ^^
After the long months of studying German, I think my [lack of] effort are finally paying off. I pick up a book and recognise how much more I'm supposed to be able to understand, but can't because of my own idiocy (in time management/study habits).
Meanwhile, job interview today at 1:00pm. I had three hours of sleep; woke up this morning at 3:30am. Tried to go back to sleep but gave up at 4:45am. Now that it's 7:35am, I'm tired. Typical. Well, wish me luck!

Flutter

Bah. Just when I think I'm getting over a crush, that person has to come back and act really sweet again. Let's just hope that this relationship blossoms into a beautiful flower.
Other random thoughts:

It feels good to deposit large amounts of money into the bank.
This is something I experienced recently, as I deposited some stuff that I didn't know I had lying around. And I only did it out of necessity. But on Wednesday I have an interview. Which will hopefully lead to a job. Which would then lead to large sums of money at the end of the month, which in turn would once again satisfy this good feeling of going to the bank.

Love isn't everything.
Too often, and certainly in the media, there is this concept that love is all one needs, that it's the ultimate in life, etc, etc, blah blah blah. Well, it isn't. Especially if we're going with the contemporary definition of love. That sort of love is more like a sort of viscous psychic sludge that numbs the mind and renders one senseless. (So really, it's more like a toxin.) I'm not saying it's nothing, but it's just stupid to give up everything for this natural narcotic. And the side effects are worse. (Brave New World, anyone?)

Self-Image vs. Self-Conscious
We all have an idea of what or who we are, and we also have an idea of how others see us. (These two images are usually slightly different, but relatively close.) There is, however, yet another image: how we *want* to be, or how we want others to see us. Which leads to my personally twisted sense of beauty and list of "to be accomplished" things.

Eternal vs. Ephermeral Beauty
As mortals I guess we're in love with the idea of infinity, and as God, I guess he's kinda perked by the finite. And if a being as infinite as God is interested in something as short-lived and finite as us humans, there's gotta be something worth looking at in ourselves. We should stop obsessing over things that will last throughout the ages and try to appreciate the things that happen in our lives, especially the things that happen only once. The old cherish their youth because it was so long ago. Some brief relationships(whether they're friendships, kinships, etc) are beautiful for their brevity.

Pears Aren't Filling
If you're hungry at midnight, pears aren't the way to go. They fill your stomach and leave you still hungry, which is a nasty feeling to have. I now feel bloated and hungry at the moment, a most unnatural and uncomfortable combination.

Never Play Word Games When You're Tired/Jetlagged
I lost so many times because my brain wasn't working properly. At its high, I couldn't even read. I thought "carpenting" wasn't a word, and figured the person meant "carpeting". Yah, I'm so smart. S-M-R-T.

SAR

"Special Administrative Region" of China. I.e., Hong Kong. I'm there right now for a few days, buy a few things, see a few family members, suffer a few more degrees of heat...
It's supposed to be 27~32°C all week... How shall I ever survive...
I was supposed to blog about people who argue about things they know nothing about, but I think I'm gonna have to wait 'til I get bk to civilization and group that blog with another rant I have about ppl who form opinions about things without seeing it to completion. (e.g. movies, books, blog entries, etc.) Maybe, just maybe, some of your questions and reservations are addressed later in the work. Surprising, eh? That ideas have to be presented in some order? Shocking, I know.
One more person has discovered my blog. Luckily they don't leave comments, because sometimes I just would prefer them not to. I write because I want to share my thoughts in the world, not because I'm trying to prove I'm right or anything. If it makes you think, kudos. If not, just move on; don't waste all our times by posting meaningless drivel that will only further confuse and infuriate other parties.
Meanwhile... Flight to HK was pretty good. Accured quite a lot of sleep debt which helped me survive the flight, and also sleep off the jetlag. (Slept from 5-10pm, local time, just to sleep some more from 11pm-7:30am.)
Yah, that's pretty much it. It'd be nice to take some pictures since we never do, but we'll see...

Apologetics

Apparently, the meaning of that word is the study of the fidelity of the Bible. A best seller, the leading authority on christianity, it is not only famous but still the centre of hot debate. I am no scholar, and definitely not a leading authority on matters spiritual, historical, anthropological nor scientific, but I do enjoy entertaining the thought that my neurons are stimulated every once in a while.
Having said that, don't expect a long or scholarly discourse on the history of the bible. I'm just here to lay some very rudimentary facts I've discovered along my investigation about why the bible is accepted with as much authority as it does have in religious circles.
The history of the bible is a pretty good place to start. I personally tend to work chronologically, even if that means learning Hellenic before learning Modern Greek. (Which, btw, is NOT gonna happen... Biblical Hebrew is more than enough for me.)
As a lengthy sidenote, a common misconception people seem to have is that Latin is one of the oldest languages in the world. While I'm not saying that it isn't old, it certainly is far from being oldest. It had been brought to my attention that certain people carry the misguided notion that Latin, being "very ancient" precedes even Ancient Greek.
However, just consider two very simple facts. Plato, Aristotle and Socrates were and are still considered to be *Greek*, the latest who died in 322BC. Some of you may enjoy tossing these sorts of speculation as being "guesswork", but I think that a philosopher of an unambiguous nationality would arise from an unestablished nation. Suffice it to say, I think it's entirely reasonable to surmise (as well may be easily varified with historical documents) that the Greeks were already a nation around 500BC (Especially given the fact that Socrates was born around 470BC). The Roman Empire started around 27B.C., a whopping half-millenium later.
A quick look into any decent encyclopedia will show that the early makings of the greek nation (or then, "hellenic" nation) were already settled in the 800's BC. The Roman Republic (which preceeded the Roman Empire) started around 500BC.
So while the two didn't share a mother-daughter relationship (linguistically), we can see that the two were very much alive at the time and that Greek is not a consequence of the disassembly of the Roman Empire.
Going back to the core of the matter, is the assembly of the Bible. here are the facts, as I know them, in their most basic form. The reader is encouraged to verify and search for evidence of these on their own.
1. The various books of the bible were written by various men, of different nationalities and generations (nay, centuries).
2. The bible has more original sources than any other work (Socrates or Confucius, for example)
3. When the bible was assembled (by a group of *scholars*, not just rabid fanatics), the books of the bible went under a process of inclusion rather than exclusion. That is to say, a book had to pass all five tests before it was admitted into the bible, rather than the notion that books were later excluded for inconsistency or invalidity.
3.b) Of these five tests, one was the test of whether or not it was "God-breathed". For anyone religious, this is a pretty infallible test, the idea being that God doesn't lie about his works. But for those of less religious inclinations, there were still four other tests of solid academic work, (of which I'm not knowledgable enough to explain in detail).
It is point two that I would like to expand on. It's just a small tidbit, but one that really got me thinking, and one that I hope will spark the same excitement in the reader. Consider, for example, the works of Confucius. He lived a while ago, and like some other brilliant minds at the time (Socrates, for example, who was only born a century later, or so) didn't write anything down. All his teachings (conversations, really) were recorded by his students, years after his death. That the closest original 2nd-hand sources are decades or even centuries after his death? Why does nobody question how "true" it is? We all concede that "Confucius said, 'blahblahblah'," and we agree with it. Yet, the bible, which has so many more 1st-hand sources, on top of being cross-refernced with historical accuracy from outside sources, is constantly called into question.
Another misconception is that our current English bible is a translation of a translation of a translation of a translation [ad infinitum], which is totally not true. Given the wonderful and revealing art of linguistics, coupled with originals and copies of the original texts, the bible is actually just a direct translation from the original ancient hebrew or greek or whatever into English. (Remember, only the old stuff was written in hebrew. The New Testament was written several centuries later.)
Having taken a course on Biblical Hebrew, I will admit that translation from a very old language (incidentally, Biblical Hebrew predates both Latin and Greek easily. So for those of you who blindly grasp at Latin, thinking it's a dignified and ancient language, you are sorely mistaken) to a very new and recent language can be difficult. But luckily, the translations were done by some very capable people, unlike students such as myself who have a perverse propensity for procrastination. Translations were done in teams, so it was no individual effort. If some area is ambiguous or called into question, another expert would look at it. The bible is no fan-sub. What you read is pretty much what was originally written. Debating the contents is another matter entirely, but on the subject of its accuracy as an ancient book, I say it's doing pretty good.
How many of your notions of the bible have been changed or challenged? Or more directly, how many people do you know criticise and attack the validity of the bible without having thoroughly researched its history and roots?
Just something to think about...

P.S. I've got a whole other rant about ppl who argue about things they know nothing about coming up...

Loveless

Love. What is love? Long time no post, eh?
No, not gonna go into that topic, because there is an entire body of literature on the subject as well as a wealth of movies and musics entirely devoted to that theme.
Nay, instead I'll talk about "loveless". Not the anime, not the manga, but my reasons for having it as my MSN nickname recently.
No, I didn't get my heart broken, and no it's not like I fell for a girl who's already with sby else or anything like that. It's a mix between my suffocation of all the romance/drama of my friends' lives around me, and the idea that romance isn't for me.
Now, I don't mean to say that I'm sick and tired of hearing about my friends' situations, because I do honestly care about them. But I just hate seeing the same thing happen to all of them, the same wounds, the same pains, the same anguishes. People loose sight of what they want, others change over time. In an ever changing world like ours (what's that school of philosophy called again?), it's a miracle anybody manages to stay alive and happy with another person.
Again with the whole "can't be seen with a girlfriend" motif. Not that ppl can't imagine me being straight, just that they have a hard time imagining what kind of girl I'd end up with. And aside from what people think, I just don't find romance to be for me.
Again with the dual nature. I eat up that sort of stuff in novels and movies, but I'm not sure if I'd want that in real life. Unlike some people, I like to make a distinction between fantasy and reality. In fact, that's part of the alure in fantasy. To enjoy things that one can't enjoy in real life. And that's edging dangerously close to another rant, so I'll save that for yet another day.
But simply, love isn't for me. At least, not at this age and not at this time in my life.
A certain friend of mine was enjoying the idea that I've had to fight off my share of women in my life. Not that they were all pining for my affection or anything (now that I think about it), but they all came on too strong in some way, shape or form. Three distinct characters come to mind, all from UW. Coincidence? I think not. Especially when one considers the general gauche population of UW. Not that any one faculty especially exceeds at this social brutality...
Ah, so much hate. Easier to just love, I've heard. Hate takes up a lot of energy and kills brain cells. And I really don't have too many left. :( Well, whether I hate or not, I most certainly disapprove and disagree with many of modern developments in society and social intercourse. How fast the world turns, and how quickly streams the flow of time...

Lunar Lullaby

Dreams that stretch across time,
A love as deep as the ocean.
Despite the eternity of pain,
will you still be waiting for me?
Aeons pass, and yet here we are.
The world may change,
but will you still be here by my side?
A love so fierce it blinds me.
Where are you now?
Spring has come; the world reborn.
Only the moon remains the same,
A silent reminder of times long past.
Whither again will we meet?

Semi-sentimental mood right now... Just read the first two volumes of Gekka no Kimi (月下の君) And gosh, am I hooked! I was enjoying Love Monster, but this is just one a totally different level! Not that I can identify with any of the characters... (I've never been a girl, and I've never been a pretty boy chased by a horde of girls cuz of my good-looks) But having a little knowledge about The Tale of Genji (源氏の物語), I was already captivated by the allure of that time in the past when culture and refinement were the highlight of society. And love is a pretty international theme, so everybody can relate to that on some level. It's such a nice, but seemingly tragic story. I have no idea what the ending is gonna be, but this soap-opera-esque story is definitely one that I'm gonna be following closely. Despite what happens, I can't help but follow the two lives of the hero and heroine of the story.
OMG, I'm such a nerd. The art is admittedly captivating and it really gets to me (in a good way). I should be studying for math. And after Saturday I'll have all the time in the world to pursue more leisurely pastimes.
But in anycase, Gekka no Kimi. I just wish I had access to the Japanese manga... The English scantalations (thus far found via http://www.shoujomagic.net) is kinda slow and several volumes behind the most recent releases in Japan. Not that I'm a japanophile or anything, I just generally prefer things in their original form. So much gets lost in translation.
So yah, if any of you out there have money to splurge and feel like showering me in materialistic love, don't hesitate to grab me the first 6 (or 7?) volumes of the japanese manga. But all of you who're reading this are probably more realistic than that. Haha... I'm giddy. It's past 5am.
Originally, when I was reading the translated version of The Tale of Genji, I couldn't identify at all with Genji. I couldn't approve of his actions nor appreciate the story. And while I still don't like Genji, this japanese comic certainly has me reconsidering reading that mammoth of a novel again, if only to more fully appreciate the subtleties and beauty of that period in history.
I should sleep now... hopefully I'll get to dream about pretty boys making vows of unrequitted love. Haha... I hope I get enough studying done for my exam on Saturday...
BTW, try not to read too deeply into that prose-type thing at the top. I made it up on the spot, and I'm sure it won't make much sense to me in the morning... Well, g'night!

Gender (Part II)

Now for the essay/rant part. What is the difference between sex and gender? Oftentimes we use them interchangably, when they obviously are two very different words. In this specific context, on the actual subject of "it", I think it should be made clear that the distinction is a Descartesque one. "Sex" refers to the physical/biological/genetic distinction between a male and a female, whereas "gender" refers to the personality/mental distinction between feminine and masculine traits. And of course, with all things mental, there is rarely a rigid line between one and another for the latter category.
Of course, there are those pseudo-hermaphrodites, and true hermaphrodites, but they are few and far between. And from what I've heard and read, they usually choose to be called one or another. And technically, there are also those who are lucky and get XXY or XYY chromosome "pairs", which I'm sure we all recall from highschool biology. (Either that or I really do have a propensity for retaining useless information.) But in anycase, since they are exceptional cases, I shan't refer to them whenever I refer to "sex". "Gender" is really the more interesting subject anyways.
My sex is male, plain and simple. And while it's conceivable for those to find it offensive or politically incorrect to inquire or know one's sex, I think it's a very convoluted intelligence. Unless one's sexist. Anyways...
My gender is one that has been called into question, and was the actual subject of the first part of this post. And I think I did a sufficient job at addressing it, so here I'll talk more about why I think it's a) important to know this distinction and b) an issue that needs addressing.
And I'm going to do it in a way that doesn't directly show either a) or b).
There are those out there that treat the two sexes differently. This I call sexism. It is true that there *are* differences between the two sexes, but I think that matters of personality and termperament easily outweigh any considerations of sex.
And there are too many of them out there. I've met far too many people who automatically treat me with disconcern and coarseness because I'm a guy. Is not my cultural prefernces and [would-be] erudite diction enough of an indication that I would not prefer the vulgarity and rudeness that most other men find comfortable in their own company?
Girls are always on the winning end of this deal, which is probably why it took a little more than a millenia for the feminist movement to occur. It doesn't matter if I were the world's foremost expert on human emotions and relationships, because I'm a guy, certain other guys wouldn't talk to me about their relationships or emotions. And it's not like I'm trying to become the psyciatrist of the group or anything, but I do find it somewhat base when a guy will only run to women to talk about feelings. Yes, it's true that generally women have a better idea of what emotions are and how human relationships work, but at the same time, I've met my fair share of ignorant females and equally sensitive males (the latter being very, very, very rare), enough to dispell my automatic dependence on one gender or another for any given need. It's about the individuals anyways. Those who run only to women for comforting are obviously attention-whores who lap up the pity that women dish out. Men just can't seem to give quite the same comfort, eh?
Of course, there are also women out there who do the same thing. To her, women are either allies to further their network of emotional control of the population, or excess baggage allowed to stay around to further their own beauty by nature of contrast. (If X were 70% pretty, and Y were 40% pretty, by placing Y beside X, X would now seem to be at least 85% pretty.) Those numbers are made up, but they illustrate my point. To this kind of woman, men are dumb creatures, there to be controlled. This illusion of "equality" is only used when it serves her. Otherwise, of course it's natural that the man would have to give her rides or pay for dinner. Where's the equality then? Selfish creatures. At least the guy in the preceeding paragraph doesn't bother hiding what he is. We can all see the naked ugliness in his sexual discrimination. But her, this sort of woman described in this paragraph, is clever, as are all of her sex. (Not that I'm bitter nor cynical towards women or anything...)
Now, as for me, I base my relationships with people on their personalities and interests. (It's hard to stay amiable if there's nothing to talk about.) It has been surmised that this is perhaps the cause of my inability to see anyone as romantically attractive, since I make friends as friends. I don't first go through a mental checklist deciding whether she's a possible interest or a sister-type figure. She is who she is. Whether that'll agree with my personality is a different matter. Similarly, he is who he is. I don't first try to figure out what use he could be to me. I actually try to get to know the person.
And so, there is no sex among my friends. That may be part of the reason why my friends are so few, but at least I know them to be real. A true friend is one who accepts you for who you are. Anyone else isn't a friend. An acquaintance, a distant relation by marriage, a family member, but not a friend. Those who would request that you act differently than how you would normally act are not friends. To them, the bonds of friendship go *slice*.
And going back to me, how this all relates to the previous post (as if it weren't obvious enough), is the multitudes of judgements and prejudices that I get from people because of the way I am. Why isn't it admissible for a male to be feminine? Why can't a female be masculine? Is sex so important that it dictates the way in which we must think?
That there are tendencies in women to think a certain way, or in men to think in another way is inarguable. Given two sets of people, one group would obviously have to have a higher inclination towards one way of thinking than the other. But if it were a matter of sheer statistics, it wouldn't be mentioned in any psychology textbooks. But biology and body-chemistry only go so far. There are those women in math and CS who are able to keep up with the rest of the smelly, unkempt men, and there are men who are leaders in the industries of fashion, cuisine and literature.
And therein lies the injustice, and the source of my indignation. Distances between myself and certain individuals aren't because of a lack of mutual interest or incompatibility, but rather, because of the conscious (or perhaps unconscious) choice that the other makes because of my sex. I'm a guy. Therefore, we can't talk about emotions. Unless we were drunk. And the heartache was really sore. (Both conditions must be met.) Because I "should" be a certain way, they expect certain types of behaviour from me. Because I *don't* comply (nay, I refuse to conform) to the gender roles assigned by society, people distance themselves from me.
What happened to the individualism that was so celebrated in this "free" world? From the asian world of [nerd] sheep, I can be somewhat forgiving. Their rigid culture has a strong distaste for anything new or different. Anyone can be different. But being normal is an impossible goal. That's what should be striven for. (rant on asian culture later... if ever...)
But there it is, thus have I said it. Nobody's perfect and indeed I'm as far from perfection as the next guy (indeed, perhaps, further). But at least I don't make judgements on people because of their gender. I try to get to know their *real* selves. I want to know WHO they are, not what they are. To those of you who have thus far "suffered" and "tolerated" my deviant behaviour, I would request that you take one good, long look at your own actions and ask if there have been any aspects of your own behaviour that I in turn might have suffered and tolerated.
*Deep breath*
Yes, a nice, lengthy post this is. I apologise in advance for the incoherency and illogical flow of ideas from one paragraph to another. I hope that the main point still manages to come across.
...and as a counterbalance to the angry attacks to certain individuals, I would also like to add my heart-felt thanks and appreciation for those of who who have stood by me despite my chaotic whims and have accepted me for who I am instead of judging me or seeking to conform me to something I'm not just because of that one Y-chromosome. No names, because that would be tactless. But you know who you are, and I thank you. It is because of people like you that I manage to survive an otherwise bleak and destructive world. Luv ya all~ <3

Gender (Part I)

Apparently I'm very girly. ...Or so speaks the consensus amongst all my close friends. Reasons are plentiful, but the more obvious ones are my long [and well-kept] hair, my hypersensitivity to others' feelings (and at times my own), my weak constitution (and therefore relatively lighter complexion), my "ability to girltalk", my insight on emotions and relationships (which really come from passively observing friends' relationships...), etc...
Talked to a friend about it (sorta) today. It came up innocently enough... ...in the form of my lack of reaction to a "cute" girl who walked by. My friend was like, "whoa!" and I was like, "m'eh". And then he went on about how I have feminine features (even if my hair were short...). How my value and efforts into polished manners and refinement are more feminine than masculine, etc, etc...
And as if to top it all off, I get cramps today. Probably not as bad as the "real thing", but it still hurt me a heck of a lot. And without getting into details, there was blood involved too. Whee... Sometimes I wonder about this whole gender/sex thing (which will be discussed in the follow-up post). But yah. That's my post for today. The sucky thing is, I'm really ugly as a girl. And I was never really attractive as a guy. So I'm kinda in a lose-lose situation here... T_T
...To add insult to injury, more and more people have recently remarked about how they can't picture me with a girlfriend... ...and some add that they can't see me with a boyfriend either. *sighs*
But this is dangerously edging on the whole friend/lover issue I have... which I'll rant about tmr, after I fail my german exam. =)

Senescent Weekend

I've never been one for parties. And this weekend, despite the small number of company I maintained, I was exhausted. But at least I managed to see one friend again after half a year, and hear from another handful of people in whose minds I've yet to be completely sunk into the dark abyss of oblivion.
It's nice to exist, I think. Et je pense, donc je suis! So the old saying goes. Attribute my reverse way of thinking to my quirkiness, but I always find days like today to be a time of reflection and contemplation. Mindless celebrations are for funerals. Finally free from the foul fiends and fools of this mortal coil. Death is a freedom in which one cannot take any action in this world. One who is not involved should not have a right to influence.
What have I done this year? What have I accomplished? Where am I going? And whither am I destined? To contemplate one's existence is a moot point. Acute metaphysicians bend their minds to the task and exhaust their acuity. But what would I like to be, and how would it be "good"?
It may be lonely at the top, but it's suffocating at the bottom. The flame of life continues to burn away at the wick of our centres and slowly lick away our bodies of wax. Such an ephermeral beauty.

Bilingual Brilliance

Went to the 23rd Ontario Japanese Speech Contest on Saturday. Unfortunately, I didn't manage to stay for the latter half of it (which included the speeches of the Advanced and Open sections). The opening speech given by the current Consul General of Japan in Toronto, Hisao Yamaguchi. The sensitivity and thought with which his speech was composed reflects a level of diplomacy, professionalism and taste, the likes of which I haven't seen in a long while. Following his impressive speech were the participants of the actual speech contest. (During the beginners' section, the Japanese flag actually fell down from the wall... one wonders what that foreshadows.)
Consul General Yamaguchi's speech was fully bilingual, in the simple pattern of a paragraph in Japanese followed by its English equivalent. Of course, his Japanese was more rapid and fluent, but his English was quite well-pratised as well, and it was apparent that he was no stranger to the concepts which define English grammar.

On a totally unrelated note, I wonder whether it's actually *possible* for me to become fully bilingual. Of course it's been said that my English is impeccible (when need be) and that my breadth and depth of foreign languages is equally impressive. But despite these amateuristic hobbies, I must admit that I reserve some doubt as to whether one day I might be able to converse in German or Chinese or Japanese as well as I do with English, using the various famous lines of literature and lore at my disposal.
I digress. I hope my next entry will be more refined in its focus and flow.

D³

Darkness. Depression. Despondancy.

Gloomy shadows up above,
devour the souls of those below.
Drowning in a pool of blood,
Tormented by time that does not flow.
Blades and sheers soon numb the senses
As jaunts soon numb the mind,
The sun hides 'hind the sky of darkness
N'er again for mine eyes to find.

Sanguinary Solitude

"He who would keep a secret must keep it secret that he has a secret to keep." How clever, and oh, how true. This blog isn't seen by many, and yet too many read this blog already.
Too much idiocy in this world. As Albert Einstein once said, "There are only two truly infinite things. The universe and stupidity, andI'm not too sure about the former".
There's no use confronting the idiocy either. There's just simply an alarming lacuna of cogitation. And even on the off chance that one's reasoning is understood, idiocy cannot spontaneously evolve into a pure-bred fortress of intelligence.
Nothing is ever simple. There is always a second dimention. But idiocy sees only what it can see, and since it cannot conceive of something beyond its ken, it dismisses the possibility of any higher meaning or hidden layers.
If I'm blogging about something because I'm bothered or hurt, then there's basically one of three things one can do: offer comfort or advice, do nothing, or do something asinine and offensive. I don't expect everybody to be brilliant; nobody ever truely knows how one deals with various situations in life. Then if good advice cannot be offered, between saying nothing and saying something stupid, I wonder which is better.
"What is done cannot be undone." But what is known can be taught. Nobody's perfect. But some are more perfect than others. (enough quotes and clichés for one post?) Imperfection is one thing to be intolerant of, but ignorance and idiocy is another. Of course, some people often mistake the two, and obviously one is a result of the other.
Go out, live, speak, learn your mistakes and grow! Certain individuals (who shall remain nameless) are perhaps unbearable, not because of their poor manners or klumsy speech, but rather because of their inability to see that they've offended someone, or ruined the mood. Stoicism is certainly not the answer, but clearly it is better sometimes not to say anything at all than to lower the calibre of the conversation by contributing meaningly drivel.
Bloody blighters. Can't ever leave well enough alone. *sighs*