Sharing Graduation

Time just flees by, with or without you noticing, doesn’t it.

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I stood in front of the mirror and stared at myself for awhile, quietly waiting for the promised emotions to come rushing through… but none came. Somehow defeated, I carefully took the gown off and put it away.

If it weren’t for the overwhelming number of emails I’ve received with “Graduation” in the subject line in November, the whole concept would have slipped my head. I didn’t avoid thinking about graduation on purpose; it simply wasn’t important enough for me to take notice, let alone remember.

I was about to forget about the occasion all over again if friends didn’t start asking if both my parents were going to the ceremony, when I was going to get my gown or when I would be taking pictures. Seeing nothing wrong with my decision, I told them I didn’t tell my parents about the congregation because I wasn’t going myself as I saw no point of sitting still for the whole afternoon for just a piece of paper; I wasn’t going to lend a gown because I didn’t understand the purpose of taking pictures of myself wearing it since I know all too well that I have indeed completed my bachelor programme.

My somewhat blunt answer was either met with dead silence or further questioning of my mental state. They asked if I had terrible memories of my time in school, or if I found the whole celebrating graduation concept stupid. I didn’t, actually. I felt genuinely happy when I saw pictures of friends in their graduation robes, all smiles and stuff; understood it was in fact a big event, but when it was my turn, I just didn’t experience anything special and I deemed that normal. So not truly apprehending the strong reaction I’ve got, I decided I better tell my mom my decision, as I slowly began to realize it wasn’t only about me anymore. I asked her to have breakfast together one Saturday morning to break the news.

“Can you quit being like that?” Needless to say, my mom was not happy.

“Like what?” It was a honest question from my part. “What am I like?”

“Why aren’t you going to your own graduation?? Why aren’t you taking any graduation photos?!!?” she ignored my question.

“I’ve told you; I can think of better ways to spend my time than freezing in a banquet hall for a piece of paper, which I could get in other less time consuming ways. I see no reason to take pictures in a costume when it’s not Halloween… why do I have to prove I’ve graduated with a Photograph? Shouldn’t a graduation certificate suffice?”

“Quit being like that. (‘Like what?’ again I had to ask.) Okay you don’t have to go to the ceremony, but you simply must take pictures! What if your future children ask to see your graduation photos and you can’t produce them? You can’t go back in time to take those ever again!”

I wisely decided that it probably wasn’t the time to tell my mom that non-existing children were the last thing in my mind, nor was I sure I wanted to have any. But after that dialogue I didn’t feel like making my mother any more upset than she already is and therefore tried to see if I could get a gown (even though it dawned to me that never did I once ask to see my parents’ graduation pictures…).

I ended up asking a classmate to lend me hers for the weekend (because I missed the deadline to register for one…). Originally I thought I just had to take a photo of myself and be done with it; I could hand her back the robes and stuff almost immediately… five minutes was all I needed. After a bit more thought on it, I decided I should wait till Sunday as I was going to see my mother and grandma, I could include both of them in the picture. At least then it wouldn’t be a complete waste of megabytes.

*****

Sunday morning (today) after breakfast with Grandma, the three of us went to the square outside the mall with leafy bushes all around and started the photo taking session. I told my mom “one by myself, that’s it, and a few with you and Grandma” but she would have none of it.

I stood there whilst she snapped around with my camera, shifting ever so slightly to capture a different angle of me standing still. She insisted that way I got more pictures to choose from. My mom was so absorbed with the job I didn’t really had the heart to stop her… until I felt too big of an idiot (and was never big in posing for the camera) as I kept on trying to stop the cap from sliding off my head every few seconds (in vain).

After we left the square my mom asked my grandma if she has taken any photos with her many grandchildren when they finished university. No, she said. In fact, it was the first time ever was she asked to graduation pictures together. I didn’t tell her beforehand about our plans for the morning because I thought it was no big deal. Once my grandma knew she told me my mom and I should take pictures; because she “wasn’t wearing anything nice”. I quickly dismissed that idea completely, assured her that she looked great and I brought the gear and everything out only because I wanted her to be in the photographs with me and that I wouldn’t have done it for myself in the first place.

Before hearing my grandma’s answer, I didn’t think what was nothing to me was actually special to them. They believed I was sharing something special with them when actually it was they who made “Jennifer took graduation photos” mean something and I’m glad that I’ve made them happy without even trying.

At night while I was browsing Facebook as usual, I saw another of the many graduation photos uploaded. It was an old classmate and a bunch of her friends from university, playing and having fun with their gowns and all. Suddenly I have this epiphany and finally I felt something; a hint of longing and disappointment. Longing that their take of “graduation” would mean as much to me as it was for them because then things would be much straight forward; disappointed that the people who I realized I truly want to share Graduation with wasn’t nearby.

My graduation wasn’t about having no more school or surviving university; it meant that somehow I had achieved something someone, who I respected and had the impression of being all powerful and intelligent deeply implanted in my brain practically forever, did too when he was my age, and I realized I wanted to share Graduation with those who Knew exactly how much that would mean; my “classmates”.

I guess all I can do right now is wait for them to graduate too before I can truly celebrate… because saying “I made it” to myself takes less than one second and isn’t a fraction as nice as having someone to say “we made it” together.

*****

I put too much meaning on simple stuff…

My observations years ago, on how (young) girls fall for someone

After my phone conversation with Phyllis yesterday, I hung up thinking how I could forget such a big part of myself, that I always observed and analyzed people. I guess I’ve just got so used to it, and without the chance to spend a large portion of the day with the same group of “subjects” everyday, I forgot I do that and subconsciously study “myself” instead. Now I know I’m not narcissistic but just in need for human subjects to fixate on… (maybe I should go to the studio more often…)

 

There are several flaws/problems to my current approach. First, I found this to be one of the reasons I felt/am more of an observer than a living being. Second, I’m assuming my sequence of thoughts, the good and evil inside me etc represents the general public. But the second statement is almost a direct contradiction of the first, as how can a third person accurately knows what a first person is feeling or thinking about?

 

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Back in high school I had a few theories about the dynamics of girls falling for people. I never really understood how girls can tell if a certain person is into them. When I ask how they knew, it’s either they’ve caught him looking at their direction a couple of times, shared a conversation that lasted more than two sentences, or a classic: they just felt it… in the end teaching me never to believe in my supposedly accurate “woman’s sixth sense”.

 

Just a note: the following only works when 1. the girl does not notice such processes herself, 2. both parties are stuck in a fixed environment and are exposed to each other from time to time, like a classroom, and 3. the people who exist in their surroundings are somewhat fixed.

 

Friends having the same crush on someone

Similar taste may not be the sole reason why a girl falls for the same guy her friend had her eyes on. I’ve witnessed friends falling for the same person a few times, and gradually deduced some sort of a process to make sense out of such development.

 

Process:

1. Girl tells Friend she likes Guy

2. Friend either asks why, or jumps to Step 4.

3. Girl tells Friend why, e.g. the good qualities of Guy, or the things he did (the looks, the way he talks to her… etc)

4. Friend observes, pays more attention to Guy.

 

Outcome:

As Girl has mentioned his qualities, they resonate in Friend’s mind, making them easier to notice and adding the “similar taste” factor to the equation, a crush is formed (This works almost 100% if a girl still keeps a shopping list of qualities they look for in a guy).

 

The thing you don’t want to happen when you like someone might actually help…

If a guy wants a girl to like him, and if he’s not too painful to look at or be with (and the girl isn’t a snob), have healthy social networks (so he doesn’t get teased to death literally), chances are spreading a rumor that he likes her can increase his chances of being with her.

 

Process:

1. Rumor spreads and plants ideas into Girl’s head.

2. Girl, if not immediately repulsed by Guy or rumors, starts secretly observing and paying attention to Guy, looking for signs to see if the rumors are true.

 

Outcome:

Unless Guy is a complete moron, Girl will notice his good qualities. If Guy has showed sufficient signs to support the rumor (like sharing a two-sentence conversation more than once)… in time Girl would developed enough interest to guarantee Guy an almost 75% success rate to get her. Add another girl in the picture right at the midst of the process, and the success rate hits 85%.

 

“Inertia”

Ultimately most people like getting attention, up to a point where they get the affirmation that they are special. Making phone calls persistently is actually a very efficient way to get a girl (especially if she hasn’t paid attention to the guy before), but not necessarily because of the amount of communication nor level of understanding achieved. The seemingly harmless action is actually pretty fatal.

 

Process:

1. Guy calls Girl the first time for some tiny favor. Girl taken back but doesn’t read into it too much.

2. Guy starts calling everyday and slowly moving on to simple conversation. Girl thinks it’s odd but she liked the attention and enjoyed the conversations so that’s fine. Conversation gradually grows longer and with more actual content.

3. Calls begin to cease eventually after a month or two; Guy calls only every four days. Girl notices but doesn’t say anything. She attempts to call Guy but he tells her he can’t talk right now.

4. Calls stop. Girl starts feeling down because she’s got used to talking to Guy, begins to think maybe Guy finds her not that special after all and has moved on.

 

Outcome:

This is the point where Girl is most confused, self doubting and vulnerable; again Guy’s chance of getting the girl is greatly enhanced.

 

The calls are somewhat more about getting the girl being used to the guy’s presence in her life; accustomed to some habits that includes him and the daily doze of attention … the “inertia” effect creates an illusion in the girl’s mind, so when the calls stop coming, she may interpret the emotions she was going through as her liking Guy unknowingly. What she doesn’t know is most possibly she only misses the calls/attention/habit, and any guy doing the same thing would probably have the same effect (or the variation has more to do with the guy’s “skills”…).

 

My Conclusion?

You would have thought that the three ideas I came up with probably wouldn’t have worked when girls get older. But then maturity does not necessarily grow with age.

 

(There are actually a few more “theories’’, but I guess I will leave them for another day… really should shorten my writing…)

 

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Telling this all to Jack during our tutoring session amused him to no end. He asked why I looked into such simple happenings in such depth back then. I told him I don’t do that on purpose, but maybe I’m just good at noticing patterns.

 

(What am I feeding into his head? Murders, religions cults, cultural studies, social problems, movies, language… everything that isn’t Math… =__=)

Communication is hard.

On Thursday night, Cass Elaine and Apple came over to Sheung Wan to have “women talk” as ever since Apple came back from London the four of us haven’t really hang out together. Originally I thought it was just dinner and they coming up to see my new place (so they will know if it’s possible to host thanksgiving dinner here on the floor). It was only later that evening did I know they were planning to stay over for the night (and I had no cushions or pillows to make them feel comfy…), but everything worked out itself.

 

They had fun marveling how weird (and big) my place is, how it’s more like an office than a residence; how almost everything edible was expired (I didn’t let them know I threw away cans of soup because they’ve expired for a few years too…); how I had jars of peanut butter and very little food around the apartment; how my clothes were all on the floor because there were no furniture… etc.

 

We were talking about high school; both Apple and I studied in TIC for seven years, Cass and Elaine for two; Apple and I were classmates for two years, had the same art classes with Cass for the two last years, and none with Elaine. We just found out that Elaine and Cass, as two people from somewhere else, found the way TIC people think odd. We might land on the same conclusions sometimes, but turns out the way our minds work are very different from other people… which I guess is something I (and Apple) would never understand why.

 

******

The night progressed. Things got emotional. Just this morning Edith made fun of me when she correctly predicted that I would sound as neutral as possible when it comes to people, and that night when we were talking about Apple’s year in London and the “quiet dispute” between her, Edith and some others I also tried not to take sides. It was difficult because I understood both of them in different ways; I knew how Edith operates, the hidden messages in her words, or how she deals with people, whilst I knew how Apple thinks and rationalizes things. Both are my dearest friends and now the argument was why didn’t they “communicate” in a straightforward manner. The funny thing was, what was Straightforward to one wasn’t to another.

 

As I’ve realized our behavior or our modes of thinking don’t really change or mature over time; refined, maybe, but rarely do change, especially after I’ve read my diary eight years ago (a month worth of entries can contain so much…). It wasn’t only me, but apparently my friends still possessed the same behavioral patterns or idiosyncrasies eight years ago. I knew Edith for ten years (OMG ten years??!?!) and we used to be frenemies – every now and then we get into small quarrels, then occasionally a big dramatic fight and later make up. The way we communicated were through various metaphors, stories even, analogies, puns… anything short of Straightforward. We were civil to each other face to face, doing nothing out of ordinary, but at times talking in “codes” or just good old sarcasm; the more obvious moves were our “statuses”, names, infos on ICQ and blogs. After a few years later when I looked back at some of the stuff we wrote to each other (I saved a copy of almost everything digital…) and it appeared to me that we were arguing completely different things, despite everything making sense at the time.

 

Now that we’re older and supposedly wiser, we don’t do that anymore (actually I think it’s because of the lack of opportunity). However, whenever I talk to her or anyone that we used to hang out with, I read into their words more than others would have in certain contexts, especially when we were all so used to talk in a sarcastic manner. That was how we communicate, and therefore often confusing many others. And that was how Apple got confused and the whole big mess started.  She wasn’t used to that particular mode of communication and therefore had no idea she was in a midst of a fight when it was “obvious” to other people.

 

While Cass and Elaine were trying to make Apple see things their way in order for her to understand exactly what she has got herself into (though all three of us acknowledge the fact that both parties were at fault and no one was guilt free), I found myself deciding that immediate confrontations/communication is not always good. I told them that, exactly, about how it was between me and Apple right after the student union gig. We could hardly address one another without being vividly angry / irritated. It was after things cooled down, we avoided directly working with each other for awhile and things started to improve. The cooling down took almost two years. I didn’t know about Apple but I blatantly avoided talking about the year we had to work together in the student union because I wasn’t ready to talk about it nor did I believe she was either. Just recently, four to five years later (@@ why does everything take so long?!?!), I carefully tiptoed around the subject and most of the problems we had are finally resolved. So there are times you need to wait before talking it over with someone else; there are some things to be handled delicately. I wasn’t sure if this is one of the occasions, but if it is anything as serious as the others were making it out to be, then probably they should give it more time.

 

The next morning, Apple walked me to work and she told me her thoughts on the whole situation. There are certain people she knows she can really communicate without getting out of her way to find words to express certain things, because they get her (one of them is me, yay!). I told her, that Tannessa and I have that too, and when we were in school , we would just look at each other, smile, and went on doing whatever we were doing because we’ve already “communicated” with just our facial expressions (which was so often and out in the open that it weirded the guy in between us out). Also there were also times when we barely needed to complete our sentences and we knew what each other was thinking (actually I think they weren’t sentences… all there were, were exclamations and various snorts and grunts). Having that with someone is great, but that (at the very least to me) spoiled me, as I no longer need to word exactly what I think or how I feel. I don’t even have to use nouns or verbs in dialogues anymore. With Apple, our values and ways of thinking are very similar, allowing abstract concepts to be effectively, if not efficiently shared. However, that’s probably not the mode of communication we should depend on with other people.

 

At the risk of stating the obvious, communication is hard; and we can’t help witnessing it all too often.

 

Mid-Autumn Festival morning – Watching District 9

I’m trying to find a way to categorize my posts better… or to even chop down my day’s entry into several short posts so it’s easier to categorize. Even thought most of the time I’m the one reading my own blog (ha), I like things neat, tidy and very organized.

 

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Today’s Mid-Autumn Festival. Friends too busy, brothers not around, parents couldn’t care less about festivals and stuff, and I only work five days a week anyways, so I expected it to be just another typical Saturday.

 

Even though I’ve gone to see a movie just the day before yesterday, I let myself go watch District 9, despite my empty bank account. It was after all a festival today and for some reason I was feeling the exact opposite of upbeat, so I thought I needed the distractions. (Haha after I told Nicole that she should definitely go watch District 9, she recommended The Time Traveler’s Wife cos it made her cry like a baby throughout the whole movie. I’ve read and loved the book but never thought of watching it on film… so maybe I will go see it next Saturday?!)

 

I caught the morning show (again) and was late for 10 minutes, missing the intro. I don’t usually watch Sci-Fi movies, or any movies that involve a lot of slimy flesh or bodies exploding into tiny pieces, and I guess that’s why ever so often I found myself pushing my back against the chair; not because I’m scared of blood or anything but I just don’t enjoy watching scenes involving violence. There were also scenes were painful to watch, in a different sort of way. There were so many examples…

 

One would be Wikus pulling the plugs from the alien fetuses while explaining excitedly what was going on in the shack… and when he finally gave orders to have the nest burned down, the babies’ shrieks and screams were thought to be “interesting” and “noisy”… (I was finding examples in my head of men doing the same to animals, or even to fellow men…)… or the way he was no longer treated as a human in the lab; the officers were shocking him with high volts of electricity even though he was more than willing to comply with their commands to operate the alien weaponry… or when Wikus begged them not to force him to test the gun on an alien.

 

There was one scene was where Christopher explained to Wikus that his kid liked him because he thought they were the same. The alien kid was stretching out his arm to compare with Wikus’, only to be met with Wikus’ apparent disgust by the mere idea that they were remotely similar (Why did I not think that this alien kid was a girl? What if its species didn’t have a gender?). Sometimes grown ups over complicate things; sometimes it takes a child’s innocent association and observation to really get the gist of things…

 

One particular scene that got me into tears (note: this isn’t one of those tear-jerking movies) was where Christopher was stunned at the sight of his fellow beings being tortured under the name of scientific discovery/education/analysis/defense, and he literally froze when he stood in front of one of the study subjects; that was burnt/skinned/gone through whatever inhumane treatment.

 

Usually I cry in movies when I sympathize with certain characters at a particular moment (which happens more often than I would have liked… I’m such a cry baby when it comes to watching movies), but what was different this time was that a big part of me wasn’t crying for what Christopher was feeling, but rather not emotionally understanding why; why on earth people (the supposedly sane ones) can treat a living creature like that. I pained for the alien, I pained for Christopher, but I also pained for the human race for their lack of empathy for those that are different and their capability to disregard life, especially when it comes to monetary gain.

 

Despite sympathizing with the aliens, I also understood where the government and the people were coming from. Although quite a number of them were obviously out for the money, most of the things mankind did was done out of fear and skepticism. There we were presented with a bunch of big scary creatures, whose technology was more advanced, and were seemingly equal if not more capable than human beings in terms of intelligence. It threatened mankind’s position as the superior living being… they felt their lives were threatened because of the existence of a stronger species.

 

At the back of our heads, it’s always the survival of the fittest; and history has shown that without intervention (law, economics… etc), the fittest has always devoured the weak. So before the aliens have a chance to hurt us, we hurt them first, know everything there was to know about them, isolate and prevent them from getting help. When it comes to “survival”, should we ignore our supposedly compassionate nature as humans? Where do you keep the balance between “self-defense” and “humanity” (I’ve come to see the word “humanity” is pretty ironic)? I remember reading something about the more intelligent a being, the more inclined it is to keep peace. Turns out the humans in the movie weren’t that intelligent after all.

 

It may seem that the movie didn’t have a good ending, but there was. Wikus, like most of mankind, was weak and scared. In spite of all that human weaknesses, he showed compassion in the end when he turned back to help Christopher and urged him to get back to the spaceship and fly home.

 

Even me as a newbie in sci-fi movies, knows this movie could be boring to people who were expecting loads of technological stuff (I loved those blue glowing projection buttons, which you can move around three dimensionally), lots of machinery action or a hyper exciting plot. So maybe they should stop show trailers with only flesh-exploding shots and humans fighting aliens in HK? District 9 was more about getting viewers to think about issues on racism and xenophobia, but instead of featuring an ethnic race which we are prone to have formed certain perceptions in our minds, we get to be free from stereotyping and see discrimination in its purest form.

 

I got out of the theater wondering how I and so many others, are so absorbed in our lives, finding joy over tiny things and fretting over petty stuff when there are so many bigger problems around us. How or should we make a balance between caring for the small things in our personal lives and the big ones that are so beyond our reach?

Fam(c)e

I was taking a shower yesterday when I heard kids singing the national anthem (I presumed that they were playing too, cos with the laughing and all). I know it shouldn’t have, but that freaked me out.

 

******

I do understand; I have been warned and so have expected it to come… just not so soon. But I guess now is about time and that’s what made me blue…

 

******

Today is National Day… other than a day off from work it meant nothing much to me. In certain ways I am patriotic but not feeling particularly close to China; I just didn’t necessarily want to celebrate. People’s birthday I buy a cake, but the birth of a republic, hmm… I bury a cake?

 

Instead of staying a couple more hours in bed, I decided to catch an early movie (because it’s a lot cheaper and I’m broke… why am I always broke?). There were two choices: either District 9 or Fame. Both I know would make me upset in different ways. The former, I expect after viewing would trigger a want for discussion; a heavier subject matter but somewhat less personal. The latter was more dependable on personal preference and experience; more about sharing than discussing. Woke up moody, I ended up watching Fame.

 

There weren’t many dancing scenes (unlike Step Up); singing scenes (Sister Act), musical ensemble (er… School of Rock?) There was a print-making scene which caught me by surprise… but essentially it has almost everything I love doing in it. Plot-wise Fame wasn’t brilliant in an obvious way; what made it special was that unlike many movies concerning Art, the messages were very realistic. I guess it was upsetting for a few reasons; one was that it reminded my not being able to concentrate on only one interest, therefore not being really good at any particular aspect… but it couldn’t be helped. Second was more of a hit of reality, that school life was really over; that kind of fun and hopefulness you get only while you’re still in school is lost. There were so many things I haven’t had the chance to experience in school… but I know I had to leave one day and I’m at a different stage right now, so… so… …

 

So after awhile of walking around stores and no luck in finding work clothes or bag, I went back home and played around my face a little bit more; that morning I decided to “make an effort”, i.e. put some make up on, before going out because it was such a long time since the last time I did (January for AP? For someone who rarely puts on make up, I’m surprisingly at ease sticking fake lashes on my eyelids…). There are times I caught myself wondering what happened, or what changed because I could remember distinctly a girl who got caught wearing “make up” to school (it was just brow liner…), perfume, skirt too short heels too high, and took an interest in clothes… actually, what happened That Year?!?? Anyway I simply missed the process of “drawing my face back on” and I missed my face with make up on.  

 

So from very basic eyeliner, to day make up and night make up… I put on a pair of big earrings and a dress, pulled up my hair and stared at the mirror (I sound so self obsessed, ha). The reason I was staring was because it’s literally the first time I saw myself as a sophisticated twenty-two-year-old (without wearing a suit) instead of a girl who’s still lingering at her early teenage stage. There’s a pretty queer reason why I don’t put on make up (I make the tiniest things such a big deal), and that’s because it makes me “unreachable”.

 

A made up face is like a mask; you’re accentuate the features and hiding the flaws, but (on other people) the flaws create character, it shows what a person has gone through; laugh lines, dark circles, freckles… everything. Somehow, making your face perfect, even though you can see your expressions and everything, is still an actual mask. It’s such a good and conventional way to hide. I also didn’t enjoy the plainness I felt after washing my face.

 

There’s also something about a face being untouchable after carefully putting make up. Your face has foundation, your eyes has eye shadow… I don’t even dare to touch my own face when I have all that on me. There is this thing my mom does only when she tugs me in bed (ages ago) or when I’m so sick that I have to stay in bed (rarely), is she slowly and gently brushes my face with the back of her hand, and I loved it because I could actually feel the tenderness and love she had for me (which wasn’t something I often felt when I was younger). The element of touch and feeling is thus very important to me. It’s like having a pretty doll that you cannot touch in case you break it… I don’t like thinking I risk ruining my face or I have to wash my hands every time after I touch my face.

 

Out of the subject… but anyway it’s been a nice quiet day; just nothing “national” about it.

“Released on compassionate grounds”

Not one to follow world events often (or any events for that matter), I came across a controversial piece of news. Abdel Baset al-Megrahi, convicted in 2001 for the bombing of Pan Am Flight 103 in Dec 1988 which led to 270 deaths, was released by the Scottish government on compassionate grounds; he was diagnosed with terminal prostate cancer and had less than three months to live. He has served eight years of his supposedly life sentence and people, including the US government, victims’ family… etc were devastated and appalled by Scotland’s decision. I, on the other hand, thought otherwise.

 

Purpose of Prison

A lot of people see prison as a form of punishment, i.e. you did something bad, so serve your time in prison. However, the concept of prison, or even the whole legal system isn’t really about getting justice. It isn’t about denying a person’s right (of freedom, privacy… etc) because he has stripped the right of another person as that would literally make it as “an eye for an eye” kind of deal. It should be understood that when a person violates the right of another (e.g. the right to live) doesn’t mean he is immediately forfeiting his human rights (despite a lot of people would like to believe), nor does it automatically gives the society the right to violate his (because that would make the society as bad as him).

 

The intention of jail is more of a Protection to Society rather than a form of Punishment for the guilty. Therefore keeping a person in confinement isn’t a way to seek justice for victim(s), nor would that ever be enough. So whether or not keeping a person in prison, who is supposedly no longer able to harm the society, shouldn’t primarily depend on the amount of grieve it brought to the world. 

 

Fighting Terrorism

It is interesting that today we fight terrorism with creating terror in some way or another. The difference is that terrorist cause fear and death, whilst taking people by surprise; we caused fear and death by declaring war openly. It is a never ending cycle of violence. We started off by using force when different sides don’t meet eye to eye; we use force because it’s a way to see immediate results. It should be understood that Communication is something people don’t normally do well in normal context, and when we add differences in culture and language to the mix, it takes open-mindedness, extreme patience and empathy in order to get ideas across. To ultimately eliminate terrorism or any form of evilness in the world, is through education and kindness, not by implying someone is stupid/barbaric/don’t know nothing.

 

People involved in an attack that killed so many lives (most of them Americans), have to have enough hatred towards a certain body in order to be able to bring themselves down to such a level to turn to mass murder (or in some cases terrorist couldn’t recognize what they’ve done was murder…). However, to be shown compassion from his “enemies” would be the greatest punishment they can get, because there would be this doubt creeping into their minds, thinking what they have done to an entity that is able to show such tremendous sympathy to someone who has hurt them so bad. The doubt and guilt grows, and would haunt a person forever. Showing compassion doesn’t make one weak, but rather how much bigger and stronger a person, and in this case, a nation is. This is also an example to people everywhere around the globe that we might be able to fight terrorist simply by showing love to humanity without discrimination.

 

Innocence

Abdel Baset al-Megrahi has been pleading his innocence over the years and even today when he has returned safely to his home country, he vowed to find evidence to prove his claim. If he was really innocent, releasing him to his family and home towards the end of his life is only the right thing to do. Although in criminal cases, the accused has the benefit of the doubt (innocent until proven guilty) and the jury has to be unanimous on their decision that the accused is in fact guilty, there have been examples that the jury has made wrong decisions. It is extremely cruel to say this, but those who died in the crash no longer has a chance to enjoy another moment on earth, so let one who is near the end of his life journey have a chance to do that, simply because there is a possibility that he maybe innocent and may deserve it.

 

***

In truth, I know too little about this incident in order to form a well-rounded opinion, and it may seem that I’m not showing compassion to the victims. However, in a way Abdel Baset al-Megrahi is also a victim of circumstances, whether or not is he guilty.

 

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A few quotes from Daily News’s article:

Freed Lockerbie bomber Abdel Baset al-Megrahi gets hero’s welcome in Libya; U.S. slams release

By Christina Boyle and Helen Kennedy

 

- President Obama called the release “a mistake” and warned Libya to “make sure he is not welcomed back in some way” and to keep him under house arrest.

 

- “In Scotland, we are a people who pride ourselves on our humanity,” said Scotland’s justice secretary, Kenny MacAskill.

 

“I am conscious that he committed the worst atrocity that our people have ever faced,” he said, “Our beliefs dictate that justice be served, but mercy be shown.”

Am I there?

I can’t believe I haven’t written this down, because it’s been quite awhile since I first formed this question: In your heaven, am I there?

 

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Talk about “heaven” and this imagery of a spectacularly beautiful garden with no black clouds nor rain comes to mind; talk about “hell” and there comes a sea of fire, with people screaming with agony and pain.

 

There is this movie “What Dreams May Come”, starring Robin Williams which I liked a lot, in particularly how Heaven and Hell were portrayed. Heaven – a place where you would want to stay forever; somewhere only dreams can reach. Hell – a place where you would suffer forever, in ways you can never imagine even in your worst nightmare. Every individual’s Heaven and Hell are tailor made, and few heaven or hell are absolutely identical.

 

Why are there so many religions? One interesting thought came to me was that, possibly, it’s because “Heaven” is different for everyone. For a monk who devoted his whole life to Buddhism, “heaven” would be him reaching to the highest achievable level in meditation and wisdom and become a Buddha. For an atheist, “heaven” is probably having an absolute complete end of life, no “afterlife”; let it be done with when “life” ends; A monk’s “hell” would be finding out he has dedicate his whole life to a lie. An atheist’s “hell”, would be suffering in the fiery pit described by religious fanatics, for eternity.

 

There’s this idea that I’ve never thought about before this movie about people who committed suicide: Taking your own life puts you in hell because supposedly no human has the right to end another human’s life, including his own. As in the movie, the woman who committed suicide was supposed to stay in hell and could not go to heaven to be with her husband. Those who killed themselves would probably prefer death and face the sea of fire, rather than to face what drove them to desperation at a particular moment/period in life. In their hell dimension, incidents they were hiding from would probably repeat themselves on and on. Since they couldn’t kill themselves again, they’d have to face what they were hiding from in the first place forever.

 

But here comes the formation of my question. Since everyone’s heaven is different; my heaven wouldn’t be like yours, and yours wouldn’t be like mine. I’ll take a wild guess and say most people wouldn’t want to spend time in heaven alone, so other people must exist in their part of heaven. What if I want you around in heaven, but in yours, I don’t exist i.e. you don’t want to have anything to do with me? Would that make the people you see in heaven “illusions”? What if my heaven would not be complete without you (like in the movie)? Because then, heaven wouldn’t be paradise anymore. So I ask, “In your heaven, am I there?”

Questions and ideas about “God”

Having some time to spare between appointments, I went to a bookstore to read. It’s been such a long time since I’ve really sat down to read a book I’ve forgotten how much I loved it. I especially love books by Jodi Picoult; she could describe certain feelings that you could hardly put down in words, and there were so many questions and issues raised.

 

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I always occasionally look up in the sky to see what shade of blue it is at a particular moment. When I see a clear blue sky, I would think “Look God, see how beautiful your creation is.”

 

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I studied in a catholic primary school for three years. We had to pray two times every day, sing hymns and I thought I believed in God then. When I switched schools, I began to learn that although God, Jesus and Virgin Mary are still the main “characters”, Catholics and Protestants are different and confusion on my “beliefs” began. In my second year of high school, we got to watch The Omen I and II in class. The movies scared me and many of my friends into “researching” about the Antichrist and the End of the world stuff. We got teachers to talk about interesting facts about God and the Revelation instead of our textbooks. I started praying again. The fear faded off eventually and slowly I began to see God and Religions in a whole different light. Ask me now if I believe in God, I’d answer yes, but my idea of God is unlike the god I was taught to believe in.

 

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Hell

Whenever we had nightmares, my mom would tell us to keep on repeating a chant of some sort of religion in our heads and it would protect us. After Vincent started primary school and began having bible classes, he learned that people who didn’t believe in God would end up in Hell. So after asking, we found our father somewhat believed in God but rarely prayed; Mom believed in Buddhism and Steven, who had yet to start school, believed in whatever my mom did. So Vincent asked me “does it mean that Mom and Steven are going to end up in Hell?” I told him and I believed it myself 100% at the time, that “God and Buddha are friends so it’s okay; those who believe in God or Buddha won’t go to hell.” (I also told my brothers, with the same absolute certainty, that I remembered how it was like to be in Mommy’s tummy before the three of us were born; all three of us sat in front of a TV, surrounded by red walls, and I left them when I decided the cartoons were boring; and later Vincent followed my example and then Steven. As a matter of fact, the same imagery is still in my head right now). Now I have this question, why is that being only six or seven years old, when the concept of life and death is still unclear, me and my brother had to be scared that our family was going to be in hell after death?

 

Naturally I think it is terrible that God had to reduce to using Fear in order to have people believe/acknowledge His existence. I wonder if it is only humans that are spreading the words of God by using fear (if “love” didn’t work)… but if a supposedly perfect being uses fear to get what he wants, should we follow that example since he should have known better (a terrible example comes to mind…)? If we see him as a Dictator, that would be a problem. But if we see him as a Father, who thought that corporal punishment was the way to go (since there’s no more “life” or “death” afterlife, burning in hell probably should be seen as a form of severe caning…) in order to “discipline” his children, it makes the whole concept easier to understand. Since humans are pretty good at coming up with new creative ideas on how to torture fellow humans, God might as well stick with the basics and add something to the equation that scares everyone – engulf in flames and the idea of “forever”.

 

I do not agree with his methods (maybe because I don’t know better) if his idea of “banish in hell for eternity” is exactly the same as described in the bible or us flawed humans have interpreted it to be. But I think there is a possibility that the “heaven and hell” concept we have right now is actually a cautionary tale told to “children”, like the good guys live happily ever after and villains are severely pays for what they’ve done in the end of a children story book. Therefore we were given a story that we could understand in the simplest sense. Considering that the intelligence, living conditions and social norms of humans change over time, it would hardly be efficient to have someone write down all the rules and punishments down. It’s hardly a straight forward decision, whether you deserved to be push down to the ocean of fire.

 

Church

There was this one night before HKCEE: I was in bed, trying to fall asleep by talking to God, and suddenly two unusual thoughts hit my head: 1. I should look for a good church, try it out and see if it works for me. 2. I should go see my grandma (my father’s side. Half the time I don’t think she knows I exist and she was not a pleasant person to be around with) and spend some time talking to her, even though she wouldn’t look at me or talk. I was supposed to have at least 3 months of holiday after HKCEE and somehow I had this strong feeling that it would be my only chance to do all that stuff. However, after the public exam those feelings weren’t so strong anymore so I didn’t start going to church and I didn’t go see my grandma. Then in Form 6, I got into a debate with a few bigger Christians in class of how unreasonable I found the teachings of their fellowship were, and had the conclusion of how dangerous it would have been if I’ve selected the wrong church or join the wrong fellowship; One and a half year later, right after Chinese New Year, my grandma passed away. It turns out that the 3-month period was really the last chance I had to spend quality time with her (another really morbid coincidence was that I just finished my painting of a little boy losing his mother…).

 

A good 30% of why I don’t go to church today is because there are so many things I’d rather do than sit and have someone to tell me how big a sinner I am (I’m perfectly aware of that), how much God love us (aware of that too) or explain God to us, but mostly it’s because I don’t understand why I should go. I think the church exist to serve the purpose of an association, a club, a society; it give people the idea of what the church/religion is all about, gathers people with the same interest (faith), and accumulate substantial power in order to influence modern society. However, I don’t believe in what a lot of church goers do, is to understand God though the interpretation of another flawed human being, or to prove to God/other people how devoted they are to their religion, or to fulfill an obligation as a true believer. I am also not comfortable in joining a group that has proven to be amazingly capable of brainwashing and producing bigots.

 

I don’t understand why people refer to the bible as a book of rules instead of a book of history; I don’t understand if people worship God every Sunday if it’s because he’s “perfect” or that he loves us unconditional, cos if that were the case then why people don’t spend time with their parents or grandparents at least once per week since they too (in most cases) offer unconditional love, and I’m pretty sure a lot of people don’t even talk to their parents two times a day, let alone thank them for what they’ve done. So why everyone is appreciating something that is so far away and impossible to truly know until death, when there are so many people out there that deserve some sort of recognition too? There’s also this question: if God loves us, do we love God?  

 

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I sometimes wonder why I’m religious, considering that I’m naturally skeptical.

Looking into 1989.06.04

Suddenly I remember Molly telling me I can never be with a Japanese guy. I asked her why, and she said because she saw how worked up I was when we were working on our history project, regarding WWII, Japanese Occupation in Hong Kong, the Nanjing Massacre.

 

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For several months there has been so much commotion in Hong Kong regarding the Incident on the Fourth of June, 1989 at Tiananmen Square, China. I cannot refer it as a “Massacre” yet because this part of history hasn’t been officially recognized; no full records of the actual happenings and the number of deaths is still unclear.

 

I’ve heard several debates and was frustrated; those old politicians who so immediately disregard others’ opinion because they weren’t quick enough to say “the Chinese government are murderers” and attempted to see the whole incident in a different light; those university students who weren’t mature enough to comprehend the views of both government and the people, or simply saw it as another story; the many minutes or even hours arguing on semantics on referring an historical event that has yet to be recognized, let alone put in words.

 

My thoughts, as another simple twenty-two-year-old (I wanted to refer myself as a university graduate, but then university hasn’t helped me form any of my conclusions; don’t want to blame them for my simple ideas).

 

First, I think it is important to look from different perspectives of the two parties involved in the June Fourth Incident in order to understand why certain decisions were made and to make your own judgment. I think enough was said about on how brave those university students were when they openly made their discontent of the current government known out of patriotism, but were repaid by being attacked in the middle of the night by a fully armed army, firing around even though people were already running away from the square, and had military tanks ran over them. What the government did was obviously wrong and cruel and no one deserved it. Nevertheless we should still try to see things from the government’s side. It might not register as a cold-blooded decision to them when they ordered the troops to enter the city.

 

At that moment of history, while Chinese students and civilians all over the world were trying to urge the PRC to reform in terms of politics, market, speech… etc, the Chinese government saw the two-month protest of students as a threat to the normal operations of the country and must be stopped. China, not exactly famous for being open-minded and big about the rights of the people, were not comfortable with such “western” ideas those university students were proposing. Those politicians were old Chinese-father types with an authoritarian complex, and like many Chinese families when dealing children when they were disobedient or step out of the line and the father felt their authority was being threatened, they saw corporal punishment, Fear, was the way to go.

 

If we look back into Chinese history (or basically world history), those in power usually chose to use fastest and easiest way to stop things getting out of hand; they needed a sense of control and naturally saw violence and suppression as the solution to create a momentary stage of “peace”. Even now the world is still using war as a way to getting peace, using weaponry as a way to create a harmonious society… so with the heat up, the top guys in China decided that not only do they have to stop the protests, but they have to create a fear so great that people won’t start things up again.

 

It is crucial to know what was done was nothing new throughout history. Not saying that makes their decisions right, but it makes it understandable and the people involved cannot be entirely put in to blame. We are currently judging history with a modern perspective, which might not be fair; what we see as basic rights today were rare privileges. So what the student body was asking for were quite a lot at that stage. The government saw the protests as a threat to the country’s operation; they cannot see what those university students were doing was just trying to get their voices being heard, out of the love for their country. Those university students did not understand how difficult it is to run a country, were too fast into taking their western counterparts experience as an example and protested for their rights. At the same time, there were no means for the people’s voices to be heard and to be dealt with seriously by the government other than creating a stir.

 

The problem was that the government was too slow into accepting new ideas and were too comfortable into exercising their power to a point that they cannot see what they did was inhumane; the student body was too fast into asking for so many things that were unheard of throughout Chinese history, didn’t take to account that those in power were their grandfathers and fathers who are stubborn and cannot bear their authority to be challenged. Negotiation was not a concept that the older generation grasps well when dealing with the younger generation whom they also believe knows less. One side too stubborn to really listen, another was not yet mature enough to know how to make their dreams realized without being headstrong, and because what they did was out of patriotism and for the good of the country, they thought it is automatically justify what they did. Actions from both sides were understandable but what both did wrong was they thought they knew better; both didn’t recognize the fact that they were dealing with people with emotions and traits, not just the operations of a country.

 

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My mother (and many others) thought people today are wasting their time on demanding the Chinese government to officially address the Tiananmen Square Incident. There were several ideas: 1. People today are dwelling over the past, and did not see the importance of an apology. They say we should see the establishment of China today and focus on the future; 2. the whole world knows about June Fourth someway or any other (because it was broadcasted at that time), and the politicians knew it was wrong and have learnt their lesson;  3. In the past emperors has done terrible stuff, like Qin Shi Huang who unified China and had people build the Great Wall, was responsible of killing everyone who opposed him and burning valuable scrolls and literature. No one has asked him or China to apologize for his actions; 4. China is never going to apologize or make it officially know just because people demand it, so we might just as well accept it and move on.

 

First the past always comes back to you, and we aren’t talking about a person that will die within a hundred years, but a country which unless some maniac decides to destroy the world *cough*, is going to be around for a very long time. Whatever happens to that country moulds it and what to us humans is a decade or two, means only a few microseconds of a country’s life cycle. Looking in the bigger picture, addressing June Fourth is not only doing justice to those who were killed, but also essential to China’s growth. If we let the government go without owning up to its mistakes, hiding its flaws, choosing what it wants to accept as its life story… it’s unhealthy. I’m not looking for a public apology, but don’t treat it as a taboo subject and prosecute anyone who dares to mention it. There are times you can admit you made bad decisions, but that does not necessarily amounts to an apology because maybe you think you did what you had to do under certain circumstances. As I’m not a politician, it’s probably beyond my ability to understand why they didn’t explore other possible solutions to that period of mayhem. My biggest problem is why they want to mess with their history.

 

Regarding the lessons learnt the incident in Tiananmen Square, I see China today has learnt to make any large scale gathering that was not authorized by the officials illegal; it has learnt not to allow anyone to publicly oppose the government’s decisions in case it stirs up something big; the government has learnt to filter information, books, news and everything that may give ideas to their people that their country isn’t perfect. These were the “mistakes” China made, from allowing the protest to start from the first place. Are these the twisted lessons we want China to learn? The difference between Qin Shi Huang and June Fourth, is that what he did were recorded down and learned by every Chinese. Also, he was a monarch, one single being with selfish wants; his grasps of the people dies with him and he probably didn’t know better. Supposedly the formation of a government was to combine the minds of the able and come up with better ways of guiding their country to a better future; a government lives well longer than a king and should be all about serving the country. When several heads came up with the conclusion that the peoples’ voices should be drained by firepower, there is a problem. No one is denying Qin Shi Huang has done great things, but no one is saying he didn’t make mistakes. Why should the PRC government be any different?

 

It has just been 20 years since June Fourth, no one knows the actual facts, and most youngsters today really don’t care about history. Today the world probably has already forgotten about it, leaving only a group of people in Hong Kong, who mostly compose of people over thirty, to remind all Chinese outside China about it, and get the younger generation to care about something they have not experienced so that they can continue to insist June Fourth to be officially recognized. So obviously it isn’t enough to leave this part of history known. If the government doesn’t want people to fabricate the truth and make China look worse than it already is, then take control of the story. I’ve asked this question and turns out I’m not alone, is that if China wants Japan to officially recognize Nanjing Massacre, they should understand and set an example and address June Fourth.

 

So maybe China will never accept it as part of their history, but if Hong Kong people today don’t make a big deal out of it, this in a way is allowing the PRC government to get away with things and I believe any country, not only China, would make a habit out of it if no one complains loudly. Those public mourning, protests and education are necessary if people don’t want to give up all their power to the government, and they should not be regarded as a waste of time. Hong Kong is playing a bigger role in this than people realize, because Hong Kong (and probably Macau) is the only region that belongs to China and is still “allowed” to say something about it (as long as those activist don’t go to Mainland China and has no desire to join the PRC government body).

 

Regarding June Fourth, I thought what happened was almost inevitable; culture played a big part of how has happened and what is happening now, but what’s most important is how we deal with it today. I don’t expect the PRC to apologize for their actions (I think up to now they still think what they did was necessary…), but what I want is them to officially accept what they’ve done, not treat it as a taboo subject and have it officially taught in schools as part of Chinese history. History might be written by those in power and it does not reflect the entire truth, but at the very least the story is known.

 

If the PRC government thought what they did was necessary, then don’t treat it as a shameful tale and try making everyone forget all about it; if they knew what they did was mass murder, then face it. Whether we like it or not, that is going to be part of our history forever and hiding from our past can do us no good. Just because people are pointing out problems of the current situation of their country doesn’t mean they want to overthrow the government; it just means they care and want the country to turn better, not worse.

Physical and Psychological Torment that men might not be able to handle.

For some reason a book that I read almost three years ago came up to my mind today. It made me sick to my stomach; knowing that it was based on a true story I couldn’t bring myself to read it a second time for a while. It’s Lorenzo Carcaterra – Sleepers. All I can say is, if anyone deserves to die for their sins, those men who were shot certainly did.

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There was this book I read, Catherine Atkins – When Jeff comes home, a couple of years ago. Immediately after finishing it I had Vincent and Steven read it. When I told my mom the theme of the book and I had my brothers to read it, she was ready to strangle me but after I told her my thoughts she wasn’t so displeased. Basically it was about a young boy who was kidnapped when he was 13, was held captive and sexually abused for almost three years.

If you ask a girl what could be the worst thing that could ever happen to her, it would include either being killed (climbing up into the girl’s room that was at least ten stories high in the middle of the night, stab and decapitate her… ah the power of love.) or getting raped. Even for the most clueless girl, the term rape must have at some point crossed her mind. Not to de-dramatize the whole ordeal, but at the very least the worst was somehow “expected” and most of the time they have a vague idea of how much they can lose. Not to mention women have grown up surrounded by horrible tales of such physical and mental torture and learn to somewhat avoid situations when there is such a threat.

Ask guys the same questions, the worst they could think of would probably be either getting killed or castrated. Very rarely would they consider rape. However, because most guys have so little education on this subject where they might be the victim, or that it seems to them that they have little possibility of facing it in normal life, the damage can be so much deeper; because in no way can they imagine the degree the shame and helplessness… it’s humiliation down to the core, down to the most basic animalistic characters of the body and soul… and it’s forever. Rape is more likely to break a guy because of their inborn pride and ego as a male being. Girls, even with strong female pride, somehow are mentally more adapted (because of the “training” through out history maybe?) of recovering from psychological torment (this is Definitely NOT a reason why you rape a girl…). All this makes guys more vulnerable to such attacks.

The most terrible thing about rape is that it’s almost unpreventable. I’ve heard of a father attempting to rape his baby girl three days after the baby was carried home; mothers sexually assaulting their sons; the case of the father in Austria imprisoned and raped his daughters for over twenty years… my parents never really specifically taught me to protect myself against issues as such, rather they told me to be constantly vigilant of my surroundings, don’t trust no one because anyone could hurt you… etc @@. So I wonder, how is it possible for me to teach my children (if I decide to have any) of such horrors? How can I hint to them that anyone, even their own parents, their aunties and uncles… can hurt you and in such a tremendously haunting way, and I probably have to remind them from time to time? I have to teach them that somehow they can trust no one. How can you teach your child to differentiate a simple hug or a kiss from something more? A child’s mind shouldn’t be polluted the world’s hideousness, but by keeping them ignorant would probably be the worst thing to do…

So when I read a blogger expressing how that unemployed guy, who killed his three sisters and beheaded his sister who just had her five-year-old birthday, deserves to die, I was thinking, that guy was under stress, he was sick, he was mentally weak… his actions were almost understandable. I believe that even though a person killed other people, it doesn’t give us, other human beings the right to do the same thing and kill (i.e. decide whether a person deserves to live). But rape… it’s not simply about the physiological need to have sex; people have targets, obsessions… something that can only be done by the intelligent human beings. I wonder with disgust of how humanity could manage to produce monsters as such.