There are more pictures actually.
It'll take some effort to get them all because they are stored in my friends' memory cards.
I had brought my own old-humongous-almost-a-kilogram digital camera with me at the time, but apparently had forgotten the memory card (how stupid).
I'll upload them as soon as I get them.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Eureka! My Very Own Magic Square(s)!
I was so proud about this.
Not too much now.
This post was supposed to be written and published at 6 AM.
But I had to go to the Sunday mass, so… there goes the excitement.
Anyway, let’s pretend that I am still very excited about this.
Yesterday, I saw Albrecht Durer’s magic square.
It was awesome.
For all of you who don’t know what a magic square is, well, it is simply a square with consecutive numbers on it.
The magic lies within the fact that the sum of each row, column, and diagonal are the same.
Albrecht Durer’s magic square, however, is more than that.
Not only does it have the usual properties of a magic square, it also has an equal sum of the numbers on its center square (which consists of four smaller squares), and all four quadrant squares.
Moreover, the number 1514 on the bottom row is actually the year the square was created.
Impressed, I decided to make my own.
After a gruesome long night, I was finally able to create what I think is a BETTER magic square.
Like any other magic squares, the sum of each row, column, and diagonal are the same.
But that’s only the half of it.
You will also find that the sum of EVERY four adjacent squares that form a larger square is the same.
Take any four squares that form a larger square you want, and the sum of the numbers will be the same.
UPDATE
From the initial square, I was also able to derive no less than 96 squares that follow the same rules (kinda takes away the value actually).
I divide them into three groups called batches.
For the sake of space, I'm only presenting one square per batch.
Batch 21-13/25-9
2 16 5 11
13 3 10 8
12 6 15 1
7 9 4 14
Batch 19-15/25-9
7 14 1 12
9 4 15 6
16 5 10 3
2 11 8 13
Batch 18-16/25-9
4 9 7 14
15 6 12 1
10 3 13 8
5 16 2 11
But Albrecht Durer’s square has the production year on it, you might say.
Well, my squares are only 4 by 4, which means the largest number is 16. There’s no number 20 to create the year 2009.
But, as far as dates are concerned, here is the list of ALL possible dates you can get from my squares:
Batch 21-13/25-9
Apr 9/Sept 4, Aug 1/Jan 8, May 16, Dec 13, Jul 14, Oct 15, Feb 11/Nov 2, Jun 3/Mar 6, Jan 12/Dec 1, May 4/Apr 5, Aug 13, Sept 16, Jun 15, Nov 14, Mar 10/Oct 3, Jul 2/Feb 7.
Batch 19-15/25-9
Sept 16, Aug 11/Nov 8, Jun 3/Mar 6, Jan 14, Feb 7/Jul 2, Oct 5/May 10, Dec 13, Apr 15, Nov 14, Mar 16, Jan 8/Aug 1, Sept 6/Jun 9, May 4/Apr 5, Feb 13, Oct 15, Jul 12/Dec 7.
Batch 18-16/25-9
Oct 15, Feb 16, Jun 8/Aug 1, Sept 7/Jul 9, May 4/Apr 5, Mar 13, Nov 14, Jun 12/Dec 6, Sept 16, Aug 10/Oct 8, Jul 2/ Feb 7, Jan 15, Mar 6/Jun 3, Nov 5/May 11, Dec 13, Apr 14.
Hooray!
- The End –
Okay, now I’m going back to my mattress.
Not too much now.
This post was supposed to be written and published at 6 AM.
But I had to go to the Sunday mass, so… there goes the excitement.
Anyway, let’s pretend that I am still very excited about this.
Yesterday, I saw Albrecht Durer’s magic square.
It was awesome.
For all of you who don’t know what a magic square is, well, it is simply a square with consecutive numbers on it.
The magic lies within the fact that the sum of each row, column, and diagonal are the same.
Albrecht Durer’s magic square, however, is more than that.
Not only does it have the usual properties of a magic square, it also has an equal sum of the numbers on its center square (which consists of four smaller squares), and all four quadrant squares.
Moreover, the number 1514 on the bottom row is actually the year the square was created.
Impressed, I decided to make my own.
After a gruesome long night, I was finally able to create what I think is a BETTER magic square.
Like any other magic squares, the sum of each row, column, and diagonal are the same.
But that’s only the half of it.
You will also find that the sum of EVERY four adjacent squares that form a larger square is the same.
Take any four squares that form a larger square you want, and the sum of the numbers will be the same.
UPDATE
From the initial square, I was also able to derive no less than 96 squares that follow the same rules (kinda takes away the value actually).
I divide them into three groups called batches.
For the sake of space, I'm only presenting one square per batch.
Batch 21-13/25-9
2 16 5 11
13 3 10 8
12 6 15 1
7 9 4 14
Batch 19-15/25-9
7 14 1 12
9 4 15 6
16 5 10 3
2 11 8 13
Batch 18-16/25-9
4 9 7 14
15 6 12 1
10 3 13 8
5 16 2 11
But Albrecht Durer’s square has the production year on it, you might say.
Well, my squares are only 4 by 4, which means the largest number is 16. There’s no number 20 to create the year 2009.
But, as far as dates are concerned, here is the list of ALL possible dates you can get from my squares:
Batch 21-13/25-9
Apr 9/Sept 4, Aug 1/Jan 8, May 16, Dec 13, Jul 14, Oct 15, Feb 11/Nov 2, Jun 3/Mar 6, Jan 12/Dec 1, May 4/Apr 5, Aug 13, Sept 16, Jun 15, Nov 14, Mar 10/Oct 3, Jul 2/Feb 7.
Batch 19-15/25-9
Sept 16, Aug 11/Nov 8, Jun 3/Mar 6, Jan 14, Feb 7/Jul 2, Oct 5/May 10, Dec 13, Apr 15, Nov 14, Mar 16, Jan 8/Aug 1, Sept 6/Jun 9, May 4/Apr 5, Feb 13, Oct 15, Jul 12/Dec 7.
Batch 18-16/25-9
Oct 15, Feb 16, Jun 8/Aug 1, Sept 7/Jul 9, May 4/Apr 5, Mar 13, Nov 14, Jun 12/Dec 6, Sept 16, Aug 10/Oct 8, Jul 2/ Feb 7, Jan 15, Mar 6/Jun 3, Nov 5/May 11, Dec 13, Apr 14.
Hooray!
- The End –
Okay, now I’m going back to my mattress.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Dan Brown's The Lost Symbol: A Lost Adventure for A Lost Cause
I finished it in two days.
It's not that good.
The plot is same old same old.
The villain is definitely not a secret. If you can't predict him within the first pages, there's something seriously wrong with your head.
The way it is written is frustrating.
It produces hype for answers and then gives you a decent one.
It STILL has some high points.
But they have nothing to do with the common apraisals.
The philosophy behind the Freemason is good, and so is the mysticism.
The symbols are cool. I'm actually thinking to have it printed on a shirt.
Conclusion:
Just borrow it.
Melencolia I
I'm taking all of this from a book in which title I won't disclose in a hope it would not ruin the plot.
The piece of art is Albrecht Durer's. It was made in 1514.
This post is dedicated to all the depressed comrades. You're not alone. The sorrow is ages old.Melencolia I consists of a brooding figure with giant wings, seated in front of a stone building, surrounded by the most disparate and bizzare collection of objects imaginable - measuring scales, an emaciated dog, carpenter's tools, an hourglass, various geometric solids, a hanging bell, a putto, a blade, a ladder.
The winged figure is a representation of "human genius" - a great thinker with chin in hand, looking depressed, still unable to achieve enlightenment. The genius is surrounded with all the symbols of his human intellect - objects of science, math, philosophy, nature, geometry, even carpentry - and yet is still unable to climb the ladder of true enlightenment. Even the human genius has difficulty comprehending the Ancient Mysteries.
A Journey to a No Man's Land
Hello world!
I'm back!
...from Singapore.
"What?!
Singapore is hardly a no Man's land!," you might say.
Well, for one and a half days, I actually thought it was;
and it had nothing to do with me getting warnings twice from the authorities also (let me tell you it's not for littering or vandalism).
It had to do with the malls.
I guess I'm not much for malls; and the first one and a half days were all about checking them out.
At first, yeah, they were great, especially considering just how many good looking girls roaming them.
But the excitement wore off quickly.
So much that I could only think of four words to describe the country.
Where am I? I thought.
Everyone was wearing their best clothes, using lots of make up, spending lots of money for things I did not understand.
I was in the land of consumption frenzy, filled with beautiful looking beings that I don't recognize as mere humans.
I was in the land of the gods and goddesses... with malls all around.
(Some say it's a shopping heaven.
Well, I don't like to shop.)
***
It changed everything.
For the first time, I saw the beautiful landscape I had only been able to see in pictures.
It felt like I was in the pictures myself.
The pictures have come to life! I thought.
They are all filled with vivid colors! They surround me from every angles!
Until it hit me.
The pictures are real! I am really here!
I was filled with joy.
And it was far from over.
***
There were only three members (one had the guitar, one on percussion, and a vocalist).
They performed these arrays of light-relaxing songs, and were actually pretty good.
They talked to the audience between every performance, churning out jokes here and there.
Sometimes they told stories from their lives, which were all touching, in a light-happy way.
And to realize all was done on a stage with a backdrop of beautiful landscape of the river, the tall buildings and the Merlion at night, was just unbelievable.
It was almost a trance for me.
But I was given more.
In the middle of a performance, all of the sudden, an old man on the front row stood up.
I thought he was going to the toilet when he started...
to dance.
Yes, he danced in front of the stage, at the watching eyes of the crowd.
And it was not just a simple dance.
He danced the dance I thought only someone with booties could pull.
The old man danced passionately; and we all cheered.
I almost cried that night.
The next day, I traveled alone to the edges of Singapore.
I saw flats with dried clothes hanging on its railings, schools, bad malls like the ones we have in Bekasi, dirty public toilets (yes, that's right).
I saw ugly people, high school students just coming home from schools, college students, workers, senior citizens, children, families.
I saw a land of Man, with mere Man all over it; ordinary people doing ordinary things.
I was no longer in the land of gods and goddesses.
I was in someone's country, someone's home.
It was beautiful.
I never thought I would be excited to see all the things that had made me happy.
I mean, dried clothes, public toilets, workers? Get real.
But I was.
I'm back!
...from Singapore.
"What?!
Singapore is hardly a no Man's land!," you might say.
Well, for one and a half days, I actually thought it was;
and it had nothing to do with me getting warnings twice from the authorities also (let me tell you it's not for littering or vandalism).
It had to do with the malls.
I guess I'm not much for malls; and the first one and a half days were all about checking them out.
At first, yeah, they were great, especially considering just how many good looking girls roaming them.
But the excitement wore off quickly.
So much that I could only think of four words to describe the country.
That's all there is.Hot babes - Hot pants
Where am I? I thought.
Everyone was wearing their best clothes, using lots of make up, spending lots of money for things I did not understand.
I was in the land of consumption frenzy, filled with beautiful looking beings that I don't recognize as mere humans.
I was in the land of the gods and goddesses... with malls all around.
(Some say it's a shopping heaven.
Well, I don't like to shop.)
***
It changed everything.
For the first time, I saw the beautiful landscape I had only been able to see in pictures.
It felt like I was in the pictures myself.
The pictures have come to life! I thought.
They are all filled with vivid colors! They surround me from every angles!
Until it hit me.
The pictures are real! I am really here!
I was filled with joy.
And it was far from over.
***
There were only three members (one had the guitar, one on percussion, and a vocalist).
They performed these arrays of light-relaxing songs, and were actually pretty good.
They talked to the audience between every performance, churning out jokes here and there.
Sometimes they told stories from their lives, which were all touching, in a light-happy way.
And to realize all was done on a stage with a backdrop of beautiful landscape of the river, the tall buildings and the Merlion at night, was just unbelievable.
It was almost a trance for me.
But I was given more.
In the middle of a performance, all of the sudden, an old man on the front row stood up.
I thought he was going to the toilet when he started...
to dance.
Yes, he danced in front of the stage, at the watching eyes of the crowd.
And it was not just a simple dance.
He danced the dance I thought only someone with booties could pull.
The old man danced passionately; and we all cheered.
I almost cried that night.
The next day, I traveled alone to the edges of Singapore.
I saw flats with dried clothes hanging on its railings, schools, bad malls like the ones we have in Bekasi, dirty public toilets (yes, that's right).
I saw ugly people, high school students just coming home from schools, college students, workers, senior citizens, children, families.
I saw a land of Man, with mere Man all over it; ordinary people doing ordinary things.
I was no longer in the land of gods and goddesses.
I was in someone's country, someone's home.
It was beautiful.
I never thought I would be excited to see all the things that had made me happy.
I mean, dried clothes, public toilets, workers? Get real.
But I was.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Friday, September 18, 2009
Don Rosa's The Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck: A Hidden Gem
A friend of mine has already posted this comic on his site, so I won't mention much about it.
I just feel I have to post it again because it is actually very good.
It reminds me the sheer joy of optimism and hope.
I've always loved Disney stories. I have fond memories of them in my childhood.
I guess that's why the impact is even greater for me.
Just read it, you won't be sorry.
I Say Grace
Thank you o dear Lord, for what I have received from it.
But I'll get them all, don't worry. :)
UPDATE
I just don't give a shit anymore.
- I have become stronger
- I have learned a lot about myself
- I have something to write
- I have learned about forgiveness
- For the first time in a long time, my heart is love again
But I'll get them all, don't worry. :)
UPDATE
I just don't give a shit anymore.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
The Truth about My Tooth
Have I ever mentioned about my tooth?
It shattered to pieces about a week ago.
Okay, actually, there were no more than two pieces. But it still freaked me out. Let me tell you, the last thing you want to see is a crack line that parts your tooth into two perfect halves, where blood flows every time you nudge the parts apart.
Anyway, I went to the nearest dentist I could find.
The dentist, to my surprise, was a very very FINE woman.
She was pretty, with big eyes, great smile, perfect skin...,
and judging by the size of the tummy, was about 32 weeks pregnant. (Talk about the fastest heartbreak you’ll ever get)
I told her that the tooth had got its problems for years.
She checked it out, and finally decided to remove it one step at a time. She took the first half out quickly, and left the other half for about a week.
The next week, today, I went to see her again. I presumed it was going to be fast just as the first.
But it didn’t.
I knew that something was wrong the moment she changed the tool she was using for about, like, the 6th time.
Finally she said that the root of my tooth was firmly attached to my lower jaw (it gives a whole new meaning to the term 'attachment problem' I guess), and that there were two things that could be done; the first one was operation, and the second one was taking the tooth’s crown while leaving the root.
“Sometimes the root comes out by itself,” she continued. “I suggest you take the latter.”
She looked so confident about it that I, without hesitation, took the second choice.
The process won’t hurt, I thought. I bet it’s a normal, quick, and painless procedure.
It never crossed my mind that she’s actually suggesting to break what's left of my tooth in two.
Things began to sink in when the nurse started to hold my head tight. I was always a good patient; I never complained and sat quietly. So if she decided to hold my head anyway, there had to be a grave concern that I, the good patient, would still move my head.
Damn.
The process was painful and unsurprisingly long.
She finally managed to take the crown out, or should I say crowns, considering that the crown shattered again into two pieces? (My tooth was a freaking cluster bomb)
Now I just have to wait a month to see if the root does come out. If it doesn’t, well, the operation is inevitable after all.
Blah, it’s the least of my problems.
It shattered to pieces about a week ago.
Okay, actually, there were no more than two pieces. But it still freaked me out. Let me tell you, the last thing you want to see is a crack line that parts your tooth into two perfect halves, where blood flows every time you nudge the parts apart.
Anyway, I went to the nearest dentist I could find.
The dentist, to my surprise, was a very very FINE woman.
She was pretty, with big eyes, great smile, perfect skin...,
and judging by the size of the tummy, was about 32 weeks pregnant. (Talk about the fastest heartbreak you’ll ever get)
I told her that the tooth had got its problems for years.
She checked it out, and finally decided to remove it one step at a time. She took the first half out quickly, and left the other half for about a week.
The next week, today, I went to see her again. I presumed it was going to be fast just as the first.
But it didn’t.
I knew that something was wrong the moment she changed the tool she was using for about, like, the 6th time.
Finally she said that the root of my tooth was firmly attached to my lower jaw (it gives a whole new meaning to the term 'attachment problem' I guess), and that there were two things that could be done; the first one was operation, and the second one was taking the tooth’s crown while leaving the root.
“Sometimes the root comes out by itself,” she continued. “I suggest you take the latter.”
She looked so confident about it that I, without hesitation, took the second choice.
The process won’t hurt, I thought. I bet it’s a normal, quick, and painless procedure.
It never crossed my mind that she’s actually suggesting to break what's left of my tooth in two.
Things began to sink in when the nurse started to hold my head tight. I was always a good patient; I never complained and sat quietly. So if she decided to hold my head anyway, there had to be a grave concern that I, the good patient, would still move my head.
Damn.
The process was painful and unsurprisingly long.
She finally managed to take the crown out, or should I say crowns, considering that the crown shattered again into two pieces? (My tooth was a freaking cluster bomb)
Now I just have to wait a month to see if the root does come out. If it doesn’t, well, the operation is inevitable after all.
Blah, it’s the least of my problems.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
The Price of Knowledge
Have you ever seen an episode of The Simpsons where Homer becomes smart?
It turns out that there’s a crayon embedded in his brain that makes him a dumb man we know.
So, a surgery is done to remove the crayon; and after that, he turns into a smart person.
It goes well for Homer, but after a while, knowledge starts to take its toll.
He realizes that he cannot be as happy as he was. He is unable to appreciate the simple, stupid things that used to make him happy. To know really takes the fun of everything.
In the end, he undergoes a second surgery and has the crayon reinserted. He is dumb again but very happy.
I can’t tell you how much I relate to this simple story.
In my spiritual journey, I have come to realize that everything is just, well, NOTHING.
And as the result, I have lost almost all my faith in them.
I don’t have anything to fight anymore, because everything is just worthless.
The world for me now is just a bunch of lies.
It still has its own eternal values (silence, serenity, prudence, true love, etc), but none of them gets me as excited as the lies would.
In other words,
The world is big
The world is profound
The world is divine
And it is no fun.
It gets me hard sometimes.
And since I cannot undo what I already know, what must I do?
Anthony DeMello once said that in life there were two things a human had to do.
The first one was to know that everything was pointless.
And the second one was to pretend we didn’t know the first part.
Truth be told, I don’t know how to pretend.
So, I need a new knowledge, a new belief, a new value that will make me happy again; because I have lost faith in the old ones.
Must I decide my own NEW values (as implied by Nietzsche)? Must I determine my own subjective truth (as was told by Kierkegaard)?
The problem is, both men who suggested this already had their own values. They were just having a hard time because their values differed greatly with the accepted values at the time. That’s why they came up with what they said.
And as for me, I have no values of my own. I simply have nothing to believe. To force myself creating one and believing in it would just be, well, FAKE. I wouldn’t buy it for a second.
I still believe there’s something to believe out there; something that will get me fired up again, something to fight for with passion.
I know so because there are people who have found it.
I guess If I had the chance to meet Jesus, I would ask Him one question.
“What is it?”
As in, “What is it that you found that made you so content, you didn't even curse a single word while going through the worst execution on earth?”
I just want to believe in something again.
It turns out that there’s a crayon embedded in his brain that makes him a dumb man we know.
So, a surgery is done to remove the crayon; and after that, he turns into a smart person.
It goes well for Homer, but after a while, knowledge starts to take its toll.
He realizes that he cannot be as happy as he was. He is unable to appreciate the simple, stupid things that used to make him happy. To know really takes the fun of everything.
In the end, he undergoes a second surgery and has the crayon reinserted. He is dumb again but very happy.
I can’t tell you how much I relate to this simple story.
In my spiritual journey, I have come to realize that everything is just, well, NOTHING.
And as the result, I have lost almost all my faith in them.
I don’t have anything to fight anymore, because everything is just worthless.
The world for me now is just a bunch of lies.
It still has its own eternal values (silence, serenity, prudence, true love, etc), but none of them gets me as excited as the lies would.
In other words,
The world is big
The world is profound
The world is divine
And it is no fun.
It gets me hard sometimes.
And since I cannot undo what I already know, what must I do?
Anthony DeMello once said that in life there were two things a human had to do.
The first one was to know that everything was pointless.
And the second one was to pretend we didn’t know the first part.
Truth be told, I don’t know how to pretend.
So, I need a new knowledge, a new belief, a new value that will make me happy again; because I have lost faith in the old ones.
Must I decide my own NEW values (as implied by Nietzsche)? Must I determine my own subjective truth (as was told by Kierkegaard)?
The problem is, both men who suggested this already had their own values. They were just having a hard time because their values differed greatly with the accepted values at the time. That’s why they came up with what they said.
And as for me, I have no values of my own. I simply have nothing to believe. To force myself creating one and believing in it would just be, well, FAKE. I wouldn’t buy it for a second.
I still believe there’s something to believe out there; something that will get me fired up again, something to fight for with passion.
I know so because there are people who have found it.
I guess If I had the chance to meet Jesus, I would ask Him one question.
“What is it?”
As in, “What is it that you found that made you so content, you didn't even curse a single word while going through the worst execution on earth?”
I just want to believe in something again.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
My Name is Jonah
There were two guest priests at Sunday mass today. Both were Divine Word missionaries.
Upon starting mass, the host priest offered them the microphone to introduce themselves.
One of them received it and started talking.
“Good morning,” he said.
“Good morning,” we choired.
“It is good to be back in Indonesia," he continued. "I am an Divine Word priest. For ten years, I’ve been living in Argentina. I’m doing a mission there. You know, more than 90% of its population are Catholics, but don't expect to see a crowded Sunday mass just as we have here. People there seldom go to church. This matter of faith intrigues me...”
[And he went on and on about his mission there.]
I said to myself, “Divine Word missionaries sure talk a lot. Never seen one that doesn’t.”
Finally he stopped speaking.
He was giving the microphone to the other priest when it suddenly struck him that he hadn’t said his name in his supposedly 'introduction'.
So he took the microphone back and said, “By the way, my name is Jonah. If you’ve heard about the man who stayed in a fish belly for three days, well that’s me.”
Upon hearing this, my uncle, who happens to be a Jesuit priest, whispered to my ear.
“Divine Word missionaries do talk a lot. Never seen one that doesn’t.”
“Yeah,” I replied. “And I thought whales were mammals.”
Upon starting mass, the host priest offered them the microphone to introduce themselves.
One of them received it and started talking.
“Good morning,” he said.
“Good morning,” we choired.
“It is good to be back in Indonesia," he continued. "I am an Divine Word priest. For ten years, I’ve been living in Argentina. I’m doing a mission there. You know, more than 90% of its population are Catholics, but don't expect to see a crowded Sunday mass just as we have here. People there seldom go to church. This matter of faith intrigues me...”
[And he went on and on about his mission there.]
I said to myself, “Divine Word missionaries sure talk a lot. Never seen one that doesn’t.”
Finally he stopped speaking.
He was giving the microphone to the other priest when it suddenly struck him that he hadn’t said his name in his supposedly 'introduction'.
So he took the microphone back and said, “By the way, my name is Jonah. If you’ve heard about the man who stayed in a fish belly for three days, well that’s me.”
Upon hearing this, my uncle, who happens to be a Jesuit priest, whispered to my ear.
“Divine Word missionaries do talk a lot. Never seen one that doesn’t.”
“Yeah,” I replied. “And I thought whales were mammals.”
Saturday, September 12, 2009
A Long and Dull Explanation about My Most Hated Subject
It’s love.
Okay, move along.
You can still get out from this before I start.
For the ones who are still with me…
I’ve warned you.
Love (by this I mean the man-woman love)…
The subject I hate the most because mostly people talk about it in a cheesy way.
Being a mostly nihilistic person, I have deconstructed most of the ideals I took for granted.
I have unmasked them, shown them to be nothing at all.
I have seen that they have no values of their own, other than the values that we give.
One of them is, of course, MAN-WOMAN LOVE.
How do I define it?
I define it, simply, as friendship with the benefit of sex.
Sometimes it's even worse. It is a DEAL for treating each other nicely.
There’s all there is to it.
The rest is pure idealization.
All you have to do is simple.
After that, you just have to idealize the person, put some romantic projections on her/him; and remember to put her/him in a significant place in your life, so that you will become dependent on her/his constant presence.
Just make a memory, drama, or anything.
Voila, you just find yourself an attachment.
NOW, what I really want to say.
Case A
Mr. Bond loves his girl so much. But he can’t be with her because if he does, she won’t live. His enemies will go after her.
So he leaves her. His love for her is much greater than his desire to be with her. He sacrifices himself in order to save her. He feels pain, but it is fine for him.
Is his love unconditional love? After all, he expects nothing in return.
The answer is NO.
He doesn’t have ANY choice. If things were different, he certainly would be with her. His love is no different than anyone’s. He STILL hopes for something in return. It’s just his circumstances won’t allow it.
Case B
Mr. Ogre is ugly. He loves a girl, but the girl doesn’t love him back.
So he just wants happiness for the girl; even when she is in other’s arms.
Is his love unconditional love?
The answer is NO.
The reason is the same. He’s got NO choice. And maybe, he also gains pleasure from the pain it brings.
Case C
Mr. Drama loves a woman. But he leaves her because he thinks she’s better off without him. He always complains about the pain he has, but he trusts it’s for the better.
Is his love unconditional love?
Same answer.
Same reason, especially the ‘seeking pain for pleasure’ part.
Case D
Ms. Soft loves his husband. She gives him a lot but expects a lot in return. The husband only gives a little and expects a little also.
Is Ms. Soft’s love worse than her husband’s?
NO.
It’s just different. She was raised in a family that gives and receives a lot, while her husband wasn’t. Her love isn’t worse. She just has a different way of handling it.
Some people would claim it to be worse. They would say that she had no unconditional love, because she expected something in return.
I say, what do you expect? Isn’t it normal to expect something? Isn’t it man-woman love is all about?
Man-woman love is all reciprocal, back and forth. It’s about wanting and being wanted, giving and being given, desiring and being desired. It’s so sexual.
Unconditional love is just IRRELEVANT in man-woman love. It may be a Godly love, friendly love, or anything; but it certainly isn’t a man-woman love. It’s always been a DEAL, remember? A TWO-WAY thing.
And one other thing,
I don’t believe there are rules in man-woman love. There isn’t any guide about what can be done and what can’t.
Any guide found is simply taken from friendship guide or business guide.
A few examples:
Don’t get me wrong. I still think the whole man-woman love as a GREAT thing.
But, I don’t think it needs to be exaggerated.
It’s all these exaggerations and idealizations that produce so many problems around it.
PS: damn it, it's so hard to write about this non-ending frustrating subject. I hope I've made myself clear.
UPDATE
Since so many people have got me wrong, I will say this.
Contrary to popular belief, I think man-woman love IS great! In fact, it is so great, it doesn't have to be unconditional to be considered great.
The greatness doesn't lie in its unconditional property (which is non-existent by the way), but in its sexuality (two people wanting each other completely - please don't get me wrong again).
There. I've made my point.
Okay, move along.
You can still get out from this before I start.
For the ones who are still with me…
I’ve warned you.
Love (by this I mean the man-woman love)…
The subject I hate the most because mostly people talk about it in a cheesy way.
Being a mostly nihilistic person, I have deconstructed most of the ideals I took for granted.
I have unmasked them, shown them to be nothing at all.
I have seen that they have no values of their own, other than the values that we give.
One of them is, of course, MAN-WOMAN LOVE.
How do I define it?
I define it, simply, as friendship with the benefit of sex.
Sometimes it's even worse. It is a DEAL for treating each other nicely.
There’s all there is to it.
The rest is pure idealization.
All you have to do is simple.
- Find a person you like to be with
- Make sure that the person’s physical attributes are acceptable by your (sexual) standards
- Sign a DEAL with her/him to be each other’s exclusive friend
After that, you just have to idealize the person, put some romantic projections on her/him; and remember to put her/him in a significant place in your life, so that you will become dependent on her/his constant presence.
Just make a memory, drama, or anything.
Voila, you just find yourself an attachment.
NOW, what I really want to say.
- I still find it to be a great sensation.
- I still appreciate it.
- I still see a lot of good things coming out of it.
- I still cherish it.
- I still want it.
- I don’t believe in love at first sight.
- I don’t believe in unconditional man-woman love.
- other kinds of similar exaggerations.
Case A
Mr. Bond loves his girl so much. But he can’t be with her because if he does, she won’t live. His enemies will go after her.
So he leaves her. His love for her is much greater than his desire to be with her. He sacrifices himself in order to save her. He feels pain, but it is fine for him.
Is his love unconditional love? After all, he expects nothing in return.
The answer is NO.
He doesn’t have ANY choice. If things were different, he certainly would be with her. His love is no different than anyone’s. He STILL hopes for something in return. It’s just his circumstances won’t allow it.
Case B
Mr. Ogre is ugly. He loves a girl, but the girl doesn’t love him back.
So he just wants happiness for the girl; even when she is in other’s arms.
Is his love unconditional love?
The answer is NO.
The reason is the same. He’s got NO choice. And maybe, he also gains pleasure from the pain it brings.
Case C
Mr. Drama loves a woman. But he leaves her because he thinks she’s better off without him. He always complains about the pain he has, but he trusts it’s for the better.
Is his love unconditional love?
Same answer.
Same reason, especially the ‘seeking pain for pleasure’ part.
Case D
Ms. Soft loves his husband. She gives him a lot but expects a lot in return. The husband only gives a little and expects a little also.
Is Ms. Soft’s love worse than her husband’s?
NO.
It’s just different. She was raised in a family that gives and receives a lot, while her husband wasn’t. Her love isn’t worse. She just has a different way of handling it.
Some people would claim it to be worse. They would say that she had no unconditional love, because she expected something in return.
I say, what do you expect? Isn’t it normal to expect something? Isn’t it man-woman love is all about?
Man-woman love is all reciprocal, back and forth. It’s about wanting and being wanted, giving and being given, desiring and being desired. It’s so sexual.
Unconditional love is just IRRELEVANT in man-woman love. It may be a Godly love, friendly love, or anything; but it certainly isn’t a man-woman love. It’s always been a DEAL, remember? A TWO-WAY thing.
And one other thing,
I don’t believe there are rules in man-woman love. There isn’t any guide about what can be done and what can’t.
Any guide found is simply taken from friendship guide or business guide.
A few examples:
- A cheater isn’t guilty of love; he/she is guilty of manipulation, backstabbing, deliberately hurting, breaking a deal, or something like that.
- And so do people who forget anniversaries. Their guilt is not against love; their guilt is simply because they break the deal (if pampering your partner is included in it, like most do).
Don’t get me wrong. I still think the whole man-woman love as a GREAT thing.
But, I don’t think it needs to be exaggerated.
It’s all these exaggerations and idealizations that produce so many problems around it.
PS: damn it, it's so hard to write about this non-ending frustrating subject. I hope I've made myself clear.
UPDATE
Since so many people have got me wrong, I will say this.
Contrary to popular belief, I think man-woman love IS great! In fact, it is so great, it doesn't have to be unconditional to be considered great.
The greatness doesn't lie in its unconditional property (which is non-existent by the way), but in its sexuality (two people wanting each other completely - please don't get me wrong again).
There. I've made my point.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Just for Me: a Revelation
If the baker thinks the bread is shit,
then it certainly is.
So why do you bother eating it?
Just dump it.
It's shit!
O dear Lord...
It's shit!
then it certainly is.
So why do you bother eating it?
Just dump it.
It's shit!
O dear Lord...
It's shit!
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Not Much for a Copycat
I am not a bad forger. I can copy signatures quite well; especially when I’m most relaxed.
It’s proven to be useful several times for me and my friends, in college and after.
So it’s bewildering for me to suck at it in when it mattered the most; especially when the signature I had to do was my OWN.
I got my passport today, and there were two things that needed to be signed.
One was a form, and the other one was the passport itself.
I decided to sign the form first.
Guess what happened? I choked in the middle.
I couldn’t remember how to finish my own signature.
Damn.
So I just held my breath and wrote the last half quickly, hoping that it would remind me.
But it didn’t.
There written on my form, a signature I didn’t even recognize.
It couldn’t be changed. So I went on to the passport.
I took a deep breath this time, trying to relax. It was my last chance to do right.
Then with a strong and confident stroke, I signed the passport.
The result was a beautiful signature, strong, and clear…
And it looked just like the one I had in my form…
What the hell? I said to myself.
I’ve heard about people making mistakes in signing their names, but I’ve never heard about someone making two perfectly identical errors.
On one hand, or should I say the good side, it’s convincing; since I’ve got two identical signatures.
But, why the hell would I need to be convincing? It’s my own signature!
I don’t know.
I don’t have to change my signature to resemble them from now on right?
It’s proven to be useful several times for me and my friends, in college and after.
So it’s bewildering for me to suck at it in when it mattered the most; especially when the signature I had to do was my OWN.
I got my passport today, and there were two things that needed to be signed.
One was a form, and the other one was the passport itself.
I decided to sign the form first.
Guess what happened? I choked in the middle.
I couldn’t remember how to finish my own signature.
Damn.
So I just held my breath and wrote the last half quickly, hoping that it would remind me.
But it didn’t.
There written on my form, a signature I didn’t even recognize.
It couldn’t be changed. So I went on to the passport.
I took a deep breath this time, trying to relax. It was my last chance to do right.
Then with a strong and confident stroke, I signed the passport.
The result was a beautiful signature, strong, and clear…
And it looked just like the one I had in my form…
What the hell? I said to myself.
I’ve heard about people making mistakes in signing their names, but I’ve never heard about someone making two perfectly identical errors.
On one hand, or should I say the good side, it’s convincing; since I’ve got two identical signatures.
But, why the hell would I need to be convincing? It’s my own signature!
I don’t know.
I don’t have to change my signature to resemble them from now on right?
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Monday, September 7, 2009
Profile: Antareja, the Deadliest
 |
| Antareja |
Being the grandson of the snake god, Antareja was born with scales all over his body that rendered him immune to all weapons. He couldn’t be killed as long as he touched the ground. He could also revive the dead, defying the person’s decided fate.
His most popular and deadliest ability, however, came from his tongue. He was so venomous that he could kill someone just by licking his/her footstep, without ever had to make direct contact with the person’s body at all.
He was truthful, reserved, loyal, willing to sacrifice himself, and devoted to the Gods.
But all of those noble characteristics were not enough.
Kresna, a reincarnation of the God Wisnu, thought that his existence could tip the frail balance between Pandawa (good) and Kurawa (evil). His participation in Bharatayuda would have meant a quick end to the war, depriving it from its glory, original purpose, and destroyed the fragile storylines for every character which had been meticulously woven by the Gods.
His doom was a must before Bharatayuda could start.
So Kresna came to him and had him killed by telling him to lick his own footstep.
Antareja was dead simply because he was too powerful.
But it ensured Bharatayuda and all the glory that came with it.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
A Fallen (for) Angel
Last night I phoned my best friend.
At one time the talk was about my love history.
In general it’s quite normal, except for that one time with a girl named Angel.
I never knew her actually. I just found out her Friendster page on the internet and decided to message her.
Well, maybe I won’t disclose everything in detail about it; but, let me just put it like this.
My pursuing her through Friendster messages has left me with these facts.
My best friend just loves to bring that up. And it’s actually pretty funny once you’ve got through it.
Anyway, I heard that she’s single again, so my best friend suggested that I go after her once more.
“You’ve got nothing to lose anyway,” she said. “You’re at the bottom of the pit. There’s no way she can hate you more than she already has.”
“Maybe,” I said. “But haven’t you heard about jail?”
“O yeah,” she replied. “I didn’t think of that.”
She paused a bit.
“But one message wouldn’t hurt,” she finally said.
Hm…
PS: I swear to you this is not how I usually behave.
At one time the talk was about my love history.
In general it’s quite normal, except for that one time with a girl named Angel.
I never knew her actually. I just found out her Friendster page on the internet and decided to message her.
Well, maybe I won’t disclose everything in detail about it; but, let me just put it like this.
My pursuing her through Friendster messages has left me with these facts.
- One message makes you a normal person.
- Three messages make you a little misguided.
- Six messages make you a complete loser.
- Nine messages make you a borderline criminal.
- And anything involving coming around several times to her work place just to see her without even saying hello definitely makes you a stalker; regardless of how many messages you send; and especially if you send a lot.
My best friend just loves to bring that up. And it’s actually pretty funny once you’ve got through it.
Anyway, I heard that she’s single again, so my best friend suggested that I go after her once more.
“You’ve got nothing to lose anyway,” she said. “You’re at the bottom of the pit. There’s no way she can hate you more than she already has.”
“Maybe,” I said. “But haven’t you heard about jail?”
“O yeah,” she replied. “I didn’t think of that.”
She paused a bit.
“But one message wouldn’t hurt,” she finally said.
Hm…
PS: I swear to you this is not how I usually behave.
The Root of It All
It has come to my mind that the root of most my problems, if not all, is my insecurity.
I’m an insecure arrogant bastard.
How about that?
I feel I am better than anyone else but at the same time not sure about myself.
Such view has rendered myself to act only in two ways when I feel attacked.
Just hang for it, OK.
UPDATE
(please note that I just got back from Sunday mass, so I wrote this in a state of peace and serenity)
All of the above is worsen by the fact that I have no patience or tolerance for idiots who can’t see what they are, thus are acting smart while in fact everything they’ve ever said or thought is plainly steaming crap.
I’m an insecure arrogant bastard.
How about that?
I feel I am better than anyone else but at the same time not sure about myself.
Such view has rendered myself to act only in two ways when I feel attacked.
- If I consider the person who’s talking bad about me is better, I will submit myself to a dark gloomy state of self loathing and feeling sorry for myself for not being any better.
- If I consider him/her to be nothing better or even worse, I will lash out in anger to be taken lightly by a person I think is a total loser.
Just hang for it, OK.
UPDATE
(please note that I just got back from Sunday mass, so I wrote this in a state of peace and serenity)
All of the above is worsen by the fact that I have no patience or tolerance for idiots who can’t see what they are, thus are acting smart while in fact everything they’ve ever said or thought is plainly steaming crap.
Stupid, Just Stupid
I have my own stand on religion thank you very much.
So a stupid question like this makes me wonder about Man’s supposedly better brain.
I am very sorry, but truth be said, it would be very difficult to find a dumber question than that; especially when it is followed with a just-as-stupid remark.
God! Sometimes I don't believe You made Man by your image!
No wonder we still hurt each other for the sake of our fucked fucking religions.
First of all, I believe that FAITH is a response from Man to God’s touch.
And since I appreciate God so much, I try to respond with everything I’ve got.
And that includes this beautiful brain of mine.
I can’t just wear a particular outfit or eat something because the supposedly holy book says so.
No!
I have a God-given ratio. I have the wonderful ability to think.
And if I want to find the TRUE God, I will use it in my favor.
Yes, I agree with that.
I’m mostly agnostic remember?!!
Maybe I can’t use my so called logic or ratio or thoughts alone to reach God.
Maybe I still need that leap of faith.
But surely as hell (pun intended), I can use it to DISCARD all the idiotic things therein religion.
My brain gives me recognition of what lasts and what doesn’t.
It gives me the ability to differ what really matters and what doesn’t.
Using it, I can see what’s important and relevant; and what’s not.
Clothes, food, postural position, or anything dumb and only come from some traditional cultural heritage is not going to get any-fucking-one to God.
NO IT WON’T!
Awareness does, Love does, Humanity does; but not those stupid ways.
I can’t see how wearing a piece of cloth is MORALLY better.
I can’t see how eating some kind of food has any MORAL values.
I can’t see how arranged postures in prayer are in any way KIND!
They have no MORAL values!
You can’t say those actions are kind, can you?
It’s like saying that my dog is kind because he’s got brown fur. WTF??
It's plainly moronic to consider doing such actions makes you a good person!
Have you seen anyone poor get fed or anyone sad got comforted by it? Let alone will it take you to a higher conscious self of yours!
Stop being stuck with it you stupid people! Wake up and be free! Stop hurting each other for things so vaguely unimportant. I wouldn’t kill anyone who says my dog is light brown because I think he is dark brown, would I?
Wake up and see the real world, Stupid!
So a stupid question like this makes me wonder about Man’s supposedly better brain.
“Why do you always question your religion?”
I am very sorry, but truth be said, it would be very difficult to find a dumber question than that; especially when it is followed with a just-as-stupid remark.
“Just accept it! I do. That is why it is called FAITH.”
God! Sometimes I don't believe You made Man by your image!
No wonder we still hurt each other for the sake of our fucked fucking religions.
First of all, I believe that FAITH is a response from Man to God’s touch.
And since I appreciate God so much, I try to respond with everything I’ve got.
And that includes this beautiful brain of mine.
I can’t just wear a particular outfit or eat something because the supposedly holy book says so.
No!
I have a God-given ratio. I have the wonderful ability to think.
And if I want to find the TRUE God, I will use it in my favor.
“But, Man can’t reach God through logic or ratio or thoughts.”
Yes, I agree with that.
I’m mostly agnostic remember?!!
Maybe I can’t use my so called logic or ratio or thoughts alone to reach God.
Maybe I still need that leap of faith.
But surely as hell (pun intended), I can use it to DISCARD all the idiotic things therein religion.
My brain gives me recognition of what lasts and what doesn’t.
It gives me the ability to differ what really matters and what doesn’t.
Using it, I can see what’s important and relevant; and what’s not.
Clothes, food, postural position, or anything dumb and only come from some traditional cultural heritage is not going to get any-fucking-one to God.
NO IT WON’T!
Awareness does, Love does, Humanity does; but not those stupid ways.
I can’t see how wearing a piece of cloth is MORALLY better.
I can’t see how eating some kind of food has any MORAL values.
I can’t see how arranged postures in prayer are in any way KIND!
They have no MORAL values!
You can’t say those actions are kind, can you?
It’s like saying that my dog is kind because he’s got brown fur. WTF??
It's plainly moronic to consider doing such actions makes you a good person!
Have you seen anyone poor get fed or anyone sad got comforted by it? Let alone will it take you to a higher conscious self of yours!
Stop being stuck with it you stupid people! Wake up and be free! Stop hurting each other for things so vaguely unimportant. I wouldn’t kill anyone who says my dog is light brown because I think he is dark brown, would I?
Wake up and see the real world, Stupid!
Why I Don't Give a Damn Anymore
Ah... Fuck it. You wouldn't understand it anyway.
You've still got a lot to learn my friend.
You've still got a lot to learn my friend.
sincerely,
"the righteous snob"
in response to a late night conversation on Saturday, September 5, 2009
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Samurai Vader
This is old news, but I just found out about it so...
Celebrating 2007 Tango no Sekku (some kind of Japan's Boy's Day festival), Yoshitoku Company (a toy company with a 300-year history of making dolls) released a Samurai Vader doll.
Star Wars has been known to borrow some Japanese culture and style to its characters and plot. Darth Vader's armor is one example. Its design is heavily influenced by Samurai Armors.
The Samurai Vader doll is an attempt to revert Darth Vader back to its supposedly roots. It is 1/4 of the original size and includes a bow and sword.
The doll isn't just made by cutting-edge sculpting technology, it also incorporates a lot of hand crafting using traditional materials. Most artisans enlisted are more than 70 years old.
As you can see, it turns out f*cking awesome.
A kabuto (helm) with bow and sword come with the price of 180,000 yen. While a full ensemble which also includes a yoroi (armor) costs 330,000 yen.
I'd love to get my hands on this one.
Celebrating 2007 Tango no Sekku (some kind of Japan's Boy's Day festival), Yoshitoku Company (a toy company with a 300-year history of making dolls) released a Samurai Vader doll.
Star Wars has been known to borrow some Japanese culture and style to its characters and plot. Darth Vader's armor is one example. Its design is heavily influenced by Samurai Armors.
The Samurai Vader doll is an attempt to revert Darth Vader back to its supposedly roots. It is 1/4 of the original size and includes a bow and sword.
The doll isn't just made by cutting-edge sculpting technology, it also incorporates a lot of hand crafting using traditional materials. Most artisans enlisted are more than 70 years old.
As you can see, it turns out f*cking awesome.
A kabuto (helm) with bow and sword come with the price of 180,000 yen. While a full ensemble which also includes a yoroi (armor) costs 330,000 yen.
I'd love to get my hands on this one.
Quotes: Last Words
"I don’t feel good."
- Luther Burbank, last words"They couldn't hit an elephant at this dist..."
- General John Sedgwick, last words"Ask her to wait a moment - I am almost done."
- Carl Friedrich Gauss, when informed that his wife was dying"Don’t let it end like this. Tell them I said something."
- Pancho Villa, last words
Squeeze Me Up Please
If you have to choose a Mikrolet (a kind of public transportation in the form of minibus), which one will you prefer?
NO, I don’t like crowds.
NO, I don’t believe in ‘the larger the crowd, the bigger the chance to meet someone beautiful’. It’s a Mikrolet for Heaven’s sake. All I ever see are snobbish government workers, loud-insolent-gossipy high school girls, some traders with their oversized goods, mothers with children that for some reasons tend to puke on my shoes, or some criminal such as cons, muggers, and thieves.
Sure, sometimes I get to see college girls or young exec workers. But they rarely catch my eyes.
And NO, I have no sick pleasure of being squeezed by a lot of people.
It’s because I sleep in Mikrolets all the time.
In an empty one, I certainly couldn’t do it. If you see how Mikrolet drivers drive, you’ll know what I mean. They drive in a way you find only in action movies. Pulling stunts between tight close cars, changing lanes without any signs whatsoever, pushing dives around corners and hills, and taking sudden halts anytime they feel like it. I would certainly be tossed around like a pinball.
That’s why I need the crowd; to hold me in my place so that I can sleep.
And every time I’m really tired and about to hop in a Mikrolet, I cross my finger and say,
“Squeeze me up please, I need my nap.”
- The one that’s crowded?
- Or the one that’s empty?
NO, I don’t like crowds.
NO, I don’t believe in ‘the larger the crowd, the bigger the chance to meet someone beautiful’. It’s a Mikrolet for Heaven’s sake. All I ever see are snobbish government workers, loud-insolent-gossipy high school girls, some traders with their oversized goods, mothers with children that for some reasons tend to puke on my shoes, or some criminal such as cons, muggers, and thieves.
Sure, sometimes I get to see college girls or young exec workers. But they rarely catch my eyes.
And NO, I have no sick pleasure of being squeezed by a lot of people.
It’s because I sleep in Mikrolets all the time.
In an empty one, I certainly couldn’t do it. If you see how Mikrolet drivers drive, you’ll know what I mean. They drive in a way you find only in action movies. Pulling stunts between tight close cars, changing lanes without any signs whatsoever, pushing dives around corners and hills, and taking sudden halts anytime they feel like it. I would certainly be tossed around like a pinball.
That’s why I need the crowd; to hold me in my place so that I can sleep.
And every time I’m really tired and about to hop in a Mikrolet, I cross my finger and say,
“Squeeze me up please, I need my nap.”
The Easy Way
I’ve been working to get a passport for the last week. I’m going to Singapore soon so I need it quickly.
A friend of mine told me to contact a person she knew; someone who’s able to get it done fast; a middle man or sort.
I had no options.
So I contacted this person.
I met him the next day. I didn’t stand in line just like everybody else. He just took me to his chamber, took the required files, and that’s it. I didn’t even have to fill out any forms because he said he would do it for me.
The next day was just as quick. I passed a bunch of people that were there before me and got myself photographed first. I finished earlier than anyone else.
It was nice, I know I needed that, but I can’t help feeling guilty about it. I’ve never liked to use this kind of service, and I consider people who do as a bunch of lowlifes.
But now I’m one of them.
I hate it. I hate how it makes me feel.
Anyway,
if you want to get your passport done quickly, you know where to reach me.
A friend of mine told me to contact a person she knew; someone who’s able to get it done fast; a middle man or sort.
I had no options.
So I contacted this person.
I met him the next day. I didn’t stand in line just like everybody else. He just took me to his chamber, took the required files, and that’s it. I didn’t even have to fill out any forms because he said he would do it for me.
The next day was just as quick. I passed a bunch of people that were there before me and got myself photographed first. I finished earlier than anyone else.
It was nice, I know I needed that, but I can’t help feeling guilty about it. I’ve never liked to use this kind of service, and I consider people who do as a bunch of lowlifes.
But now I’m one of them.
I hate it. I hate how it makes me feel.
Anyway,
if you want to get your passport done quickly, you know where to reach me.
hub’s passport service
- It’s so easy, you’ll feel bad about it -
- It’s so easy, you’ll feel bad about it -
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Keris, a Mystical Companion
Keris is a traditional weapon originated in Java. It is a short blade with two edges, sometimes with curves on them. It dates back from the 9th century and is shown on some reliefs on temples around Java.
Among the Javanese, Keris is highly valued. It is not just a weapon, but also a symbol for greatness or class in society. Only high profilers have the good ones. Some people measure it by looking at the amount of curves, the type of material it’s made of, or the existence of fingerprints on it (some are made magically by hands).
But keep in mind that it is NOT at all a functional weapon. If you like weapons like Katana, you will be disappointed in Keris. Very rarely does Keris show such perfection as Katana’s. Even the most famous ones are rough, dented, and heavily ornamented by reliefs. It is still a weapon of cultural beauty, especially for me, but it doesn’t look like it can cut well. It has a short range, funny hilt, and involves awkward positions to use that might as well hurt the wielder rather than the opponent.
The true strength of Keris lies on its mystical powers.
A Keris is never used early in a fight. It is reserved for the last moment; a last desperate attempt at a seemingly winning enemy. It is a tide turner. Even at a full scale wars. Its magical properties are so horrific and terrifying that it should only be used only when you really have to.
Its magic usually comes from the spirit that resides within. That’s why a good Keris has a name. It is considered as a living thing. The master can speak to it or ask for advices. Communication is usually done through dreams, just like the first time the master had it.
When someone has a Keris made for him/her, there are rituals that must be made. One of them involves sleeping with the weapon for a few days. If the master has nightmares, the weapon will only bring bad luck for him/her; and if the master has good dreams, the weapon will bring good luck to him/her.
As you can see, there’s a tight bond between Keris and its master; a bond that sometimes so tight, it can not be broken by death. This is the case with my great grandfather. He couldn’t die when he was supposed to, tormented in the state of not dead nor living for days, because his weapon wouldn’t let him. Only after his family did some rituals the bond was broken, and he died in peace.
In the Mahabharata, Keris is even shown to reanimate the master’s dead body in no less than two occasions.
One occasion is when Karna died after Arjuna struck his neck with his arrow. To his surprise, Karna’s body remained at still. Even the supposedly decapitated head was still on its place.
It turned out that Karna’s Keris took control of his body and keep it intact. It even spoke Karna’s voice to get Arjuna closer.
When he did move himself closer, it quickly flew from its scabbard and went directly to Arjuna. The only thing that saved him at the time was Kresna, pulling him away at the right time.
Keris is not just a symbol or a mystical weapon, it is also a loyal companion. Even after death.
Among the Javanese, Keris is highly valued. It is not just a weapon, but also a symbol for greatness or class in society. Only high profilers have the good ones. Some people measure it by looking at the amount of curves, the type of material it’s made of, or the existence of fingerprints on it (some are made magically by hands).
But keep in mind that it is NOT at all a functional weapon. If you like weapons like Katana, you will be disappointed in Keris. Very rarely does Keris show such perfection as Katana’s. Even the most famous ones are rough, dented, and heavily ornamented by reliefs. It is still a weapon of cultural beauty, especially for me, but it doesn’t look like it can cut well. It has a short range, funny hilt, and involves awkward positions to use that might as well hurt the wielder rather than the opponent.
The true strength of Keris lies on its mystical powers.
A Keris is never used early in a fight. It is reserved for the last moment; a last desperate attempt at a seemingly winning enemy. It is a tide turner. Even at a full scale wars. Its magical properties are so horrific and terrifying that it should only be used only when you really have to.
Its magic usually comes from the spirit that resides within. That’s why a good Keris has a name. It is considered as a living thing. The master can speak to it or ask for advices. Communication is usually done through dreams, just like the first time the master had it.
When someone has a Keris made for him/her, there are rituals that must be made. One of them involves sleeping with the weapon for a few days. If the master has nightmares, the weapon will only bring bad luck for him/her; and if the master has good dreams, the weapon will bring good luck to him/her.
As you can see, there’s a tight bond between Keris and its master; a bond that sometimes so tight, it can not be broken by death. This is the case with my great grandfather. He couldn’t die when he was supposed to, tormented in the state of not dead nor living for days, because his weapon wouldn’t let him. Only after his family did some rituals the bond was broken, and he died in peace.
In the Mahabharata, Keris is even shown to reanimate the master’s dead body in no less than two occasions.
One occasion is when Karna died after Arjuna struck his neck with his arrow. To his surprise, Karna’s body remained at still. Even the supposedly decapitated head was still on its place.
It turned out that Karna’s Keris took control of his body and keep it intact. It even spoke Karna’s voice to get Arjuna closer.
When he did move himself closer, it quickly flew from its scabbard and went directly to Arjuna. The only thing that saved him at the time was Kresna, pulling him away at the right time.
Keris is not just a symbol or a mystical weapon, it is also a loyal companion. Even after death.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Word of the Day: Brusque
(adj)
1: markedly short and abrupt
2: blunt in manner or speech often to the point of ungracious harshness
source: The Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary
"When I asked Celia Feight who dyes her hair, she brusquely showed me the door."
"The brusque demeanor of Gayla Vente left me thinking that she was a person of some importance."
"He was brusque, authoritative, given to contradiction, rough though never dirty in his personal belongings, and inclined to indulge in a sort of quiet raillery."
1: markedly short and abrupt
2: blunt in manner or speech often to the point of ungracious harshness
source: The Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary
"When I asked Celia Feight who dyes her hair, she brusquely showed me the door."
"The brusque demeanor of Gayla Vente left me thinking that she was a person of some importance."
"He was brusque, authoritative, given to contradiction, rough though never dirty in his personal belongings, and inclined to indulge in a sort of quiet raillery."
Road Trip 08
It's been awhile since I wanted to write about my road trip. I had it with my friends back in 08. We went all the way east to Borobudur Temple, Yogyakarta, Mount Bromo, Bali, and Nusa Penida.
It is the best trip I've ever had. Especially considering that I had never went anywhere before.
There's so much that I wanted to tell actually, and yet I can't think of anything to write. Because it all happened a year ago? Or maybe because I don't know where to start.
Well, just the pictures then.
Can't wait to do the whole thing again.
It is the best trip I've ever had. Especially considering that I had never went anywhere before.
There's so much that I wanted to tell actually, and yet I can't think of anything to write. Because it all happened a year ago? Or maybe because I don't know where to start.
Well, just the pictures then.
Can't wait to do the whole thing again.
Photos by: Rick, Ron, Chu, Tie, Ra, and myself
Hospital Night Facts
My father's in the hospital right now. That's why I've been staying there for five days.
Here are some revelations I've got from my stay.
Here are some revelations I've got from my stay.
- The amount of bread and fruit a patient receives from visitors can feed a whole village.
- There's only so much fruit a person can handle before vomiting excruciatingly.
- That is also the case with bread.
- The hospital toilet can suck literally anything.
- Never press any button with a picture of a cross on it.
- Never press any button with a picture of a hat on it.
- Never press any button with a sign 'push' on it.
- Never press any button.
- A hospital jello may look like a jello, smell like a jello, feel like a jello, but it doesn't taste like a jello.
- Endless visitors may worsen a patient's condition by depriving his/her basic needs, such as television.
- Chairs don't make a good bed. However, floors do.
- In no time should you wear anything less than decent in the room, for you're not in a hotel and therefore the room is never locked.
- White clothes mean medical officers only if they've got feet.
Homosexual Hand
A few days ago I met some friends of mine. One of them has a talent for the supernatural. She gave everyone a palm reading and checked everyone's fortune.
The interesting part is when she mentioned about another friend of mine who had a gay line.
What the hell? A gay line? Can palmistry determine your sexuality?
Well, some say it can.
Just check your hand.
Signs that say you're gay are
I'm not sure what 'developed' means. I assume it's got something to do with the strength and clarity of the lines on the related area OR that the area is simply inflated or bulged.
However, if you have these signs and don't feel any hots whatsoever for members of your own sex, just relax. It can also mean that you're just plainly sensitive.
The interesting part is when she mentioned about another friend of mine who had a gay line.
What the hell? A gay line? Can palmistry determine your sexuality?
Well, some say it can.
Signs that say you're gay are
- the mount of Moon is developed
- and the heart line ends in the lower mount of Mars
I'm not sure what 'developed' means. I assume it's got something to do with the strength and clarity of the lines on the related area OR that the area is simply inflated or bulged.
However, if you have these signs and don't feel any hots whatsoever for members of your own sex, just relax. It can also mean that you're just plainly sensitive.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Layout
For the past days I've tried to build my own website using weebly.
It's supposed to be the easiest web builder available.
I must have been a complete idiot because I couldn't build a decent one.
Or maybe I just haven't had enough time.
So, in the end, I just took the easy way.
I searched for free templates, found this one, and have been using it since. Turns out quite nice I think (I just love cityscape at night).
Well, weebly will just have to wait.
Anyway, back to work!
It's supposed to be the easiest web builder available.
I must have been a complete idiot because I couldn't build a decent one.
Or maybe I just haven't had enough time.
So, in the end, I just took the easy way.
I searched for free templates, found this one, and have been using it since. Turns out quite nice I think (I just love cityscape at night).
Well, weebly will just have to wait.
Anyway, back to work!
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