Singapore 18

Traveling alone turned out great.

I swear, I love the old Picasa album. Until I find a way to create a slideshow like it used to, I'll only display 9 photos.

Singapore 18

As the ultimate Manic Pixie Dream Girl, Claire Colburn, once said, "Some music needs air,"

one bud was off.

*thanks to Tik for the term

The Walking Dead, Well, Dead-ish

It's 10 PM.

I'm still at the lab, working on a research.

I still have a blood slide to check.

I'll probably be done by 11 PM,

or maybe 12.

I'm desperate for a shower,

or a pack of instant noodle,

or a few more episodes of Hannibal,

or a few more messages.

I'm in good health, though.

Well, good-ish.

I can't complain.

Life has been kind.

Yet all I want is to sleep in Your comfort.

The Redundant Scene

There's a scene in the movie Moana that I like the most. It is the one at the start of the movie. It is cute as a button yet as deep as the ocean (pun badly intended). It tells about innocence in such a beautiful way that it deserves a writing of its own.

However... this is not such a writing.

Instead, this is a writing about how it is redundant, pointless in the perspective of storytelling.


The scene shows Moana who was still but a little child, playing alone at the beach. She was greeted by the ocean, which offered her a stone, the heart of the Goddess Te Fiti. It was long taken from her, causing bad things in the world. In time, Moana would restore the heart to Te Fiti and lift the curse. But at that exact moment, she was just too young to understand anything. When her father eventually came and carried her away, the ocean silently took back the heart until the time it fell on her hands again when she was already a teenager.

I've said that the scene is redundant and now I'll tell you why. It adds nothing to the plot. If the scene were taken away, it would change nothing. Moana would still receive the heart as a teenager and restore it to Te Fiti. She didn't even have any recollection of the event due to her young age. And because there was no witness, it was never mentioned again in the whole movie. The scene was an isolated event, detached and lost to everyone in the movie.

Well...
Except for the audience.

It is also why the scene, as pointless as I think it is, remains the scene I like the most.

Most stories I know have an unwritten rule. Pointless scenes get pointed out and ridiculed, and for good reasons. Such scenes clutter the story and take away the meaning. However, this scene does exactly the opposite. It gives another dimension to Moana's quest, a divine aspect. She didn't just make the choice to save the world, as fantastic and noble as it was. She had always been meant, or expected, to do so. What was considered a simple human endeavor for all the characters in the movie was morphed into a quest of the divine.

And let's remember that this perspective is only given to the audience. It was absent to all the movie characters, even Moana herself. She never knew about the great destiny expected of her, not at the beginning nor the end. Only the audience understand that she not only needed to take the quest, she had to. And they get to keep the perspective as they go through every scene that comes next.

It was something I admire in storytelling. I like to write, and the mechanism never crossed my mind. The idea that you can add depth in a story by giving a personal, private, special perspective just for the audience and the audience alone, captivated me. It was genius. And maybe for people longing for a hidden layer of meaning inside their lives, assuring.

Stories of Man

Please kindly play the next video before you continue reading.

It has come to my attention that in my articles, I often quote questionable sources. For example, in Finding God’s Will, an article that is obviously about God, I quoted Fast & Furious: Tokyo Drift. And in Encounters, an article that is about truly connecting to someone, I featured a cigarette commercial. This habit supposedly comes from my love for pop culture. However, as I have come to realize, that is not the sole reason. The other one is unexpectedly, my wholehearted love for the lives of Man.

Joe Dirt

In the comedy Joe Dirt, a movie about a man who’s trapped in a perpetual bad luck but stays positive and happy no matter what, there is a scene I adore the most. It is mostly a silent scene, and it went like this.

Joe Dirt, who worked as a janitor in a radio station, was mopping the hallway at night. Everybody had gone home and he was all alone. When he reached a room with the sign "BOILER ROOM" on its door, he stopped and looked around. Convinced that there was no one, he cautiously opened the door and stepped inside. Right then, we could see that it was secretly his living quarter. He had no money to rent a place so he turned the station’s boiler room into his home.

After closing the door, Joe Dirt sat on his bunk. He took two photographs that he kept on the table. They showed a blonde girl with her dog. We know the woman was not with him anymore because he was living alone. Yet we also know that she remained in his thoughts because of the way he kept the photographs.
Joe Dirt lied on his bunk...
He took a good look at the photographs...
He smiled for a while...
And then he went to sleep...

And all of this happened while Crash into Me by Dave Matthews Band (the video above) played in the background, undeterred by any sound because there was no dialogue.

I wish I could explain why the scene captivated me but I doubt if I can. I can tell you this, though. In what otherwise a loud, raunchy, and slapstick movie, I got to experience Joe Dirt in his silent moment.
And it was a sweet moment.

Movie moments like this stay in my heart. And they fill it up with warmth.

That’s also why I love the horror movie It. Not because it was a good horror movie, which of course it was, but because I love the protagonists, the children in the Losers' Club.

Their interaction with one another was so adorable… and familiar. You can’t help but feel for them. And the stuff they had to put through… oh God. They had to fight an ancient evil entity while they couldn’t even open a blocked door without working together. They were really just kids, who found strength in each other.

And have I mentioned the poem?

When one of the kids, Ben Hanscom, fell in love with the red-haired Beverly Marsh, who was also a member of the Losers' Club, he wrote a poem for her on the back of a postcard.

Beverly Marsh

Your hair is winter fire,

January embers.

My heart burns there, too.

It was the best poem I had experienced for a long time…



I friggin' love pop culture.

It's good.

And sometimes… sometimes, they capture moments... recognizable, familiar moments.

In the movie Before Sunrise, Celine said, “If there’s any kind of God it wouldn’t be in any of us, not you or me but just this little space in between.” I used to foolishly take this almost literally. But now I picture it as His presence in the wake of life, our actions, struggles, feelings, about each other, and also our lone moments when we long, when we’re connecting to some... thing, whether it is a distant memory, or just the presence of our surroundings. He is there in the moments. Or if I may dare to quote another great movie, V for Vendetta, “God is in the rain.”

I usually end my writing with a long-thought sentence. However, it doesn’t feel right this time. I’m not going to do that. Instead, I’ll leave you with one of the best songs to hear in the lone moment, at least for me.

I hope you will always find your moments. And may them fill your heart.