Universe of Extremes

The two paths that diverged.

2009-06-01T14:07:00.000-07:00

I was riding the bus home one day, when I was thinking about what some of my friends and family have been talking to me about. It was then I saw two mental images. This wasn't some sort of magical epiphany, where I physically see images that aren't actual, but these two images came as ideas.

The first was a old man sitting in a chair, surrounded by children. He told them stories about his past, his dreams, the family that he worked to support, both monetarily and as a father, husband and son. He told them of his once grandiose dream of changing the world. A dream that he, as a young man, cherished beyond anything else. Then, as he grew up, he realised that he would have to sacrifice all that he was brought up to protect. The happiness of his family and the future of his children. It was then that he knew he had to make a choice. He choose to change his dream, to change the world one hand at a time, instead of giving up his humanity to become a driving force. His children grew up, and due to circumstances, were forced to place him in an old folk's home. Still, he was proud of them, and is at peace with the fact that he lived a life of fulfilment.

The second was that of an aging man, in an expensive tailored suit, in a large office. He sits by the window of this office on the 43rd floor of a building in the middle of a roaring city, in the dark, alone. The world revolves around him. Without the things he has done, the world would not be the way it is, for better or for worse. He has changed the world. But now, when it was all said and done, here he sat, with only a glass of scotch for company, and a lonely home to return to. As a boy, he decided to change the world. Everything else; love, peace, friends, were all irrelevant. How can the emotional fulfilment of one man be put before the advancement of the mankind? Mankind before man, that was his mantra. His will had been strong as steel, and his love for the world drove him to sell his life for what he believed in, a new world. Now, he sat, his work finished, what did he have left? Was it worth it? Mankind before man. Yes, it was.

These two men are, in fact, one and the same. Pretty sure you guessed it already, though. The only difference between them is one decision. How one choice can change the person you are. Now, I find myself empathising with both men, and find myself with a choice of my own.

Which one will I become?

The present is the future, all in time.
-Gabe

My Dream

2009-05-24T19:36:00.000-07:00

The reason I've been putting this post off even though I have had it brewing in my mind for far too long now is that I think I was afraid of the implications of what I was saying. Beyond that, the implications behind those implications.

With regards to the title of this post, I have many dreams. Dreams of grandeur, prosperity, happiness, a life where I will be surrounded by loved ones. Beg your pardon for being sappy and idealistic. However, there is one that is not only the first, but currently, is the strongest force within the repository of my psyche. It nags at my processes, sometimes disturbing my thoughts. That is the one to build a home.

Now, many people live in houses, in condominiums, apartments, townhouses, cabins, ships, and the like. However, even those with a hovel to return to might not have a home to return to. You see, dear reader, a house is a building, created with bricks, wood and mortar. A home is a place where one can return to for a brief respite from the world. A place where family gathers and happiness is born.

Now, contrary to popular belief, these things are mutrally exclusive, that is to say, they can exist apart from each other. Many dwellings exist in this world, where one does not come home to the warmth of a family, but the cold that loneliness is. Some may not have a house, but they are very much at home, with those that are dearest to them.

More later on, when the time comes...

-Gabe

Minimalism

2009-05-05T19:32:00.000-07:00

Not to be confused with the artistic meaning of Minimalism, where the artist does as little as possible, explicitly, while conveying a deep meaning, implicitly, to draw the audience's full attention to the details of the few visible aspects of the piece, be it music or a painting; the minimalism I am talking about is a philosophy that I, myself, live by, because I am selfish, afraid and a miser.

Piqued your interest? Thought so.

The core of minimalism is this: There is enough in this universe to see to man's needs, but not his greed. However, some might argue that there is no arbitrary line where need turns to greed. I beg to differ. Need is defined, by myself, not as the requirements to simply survive, but the desire to obtain whatever is needed to thrive, to provide an environment where mankind's greatest potential may be brought forward. Greed is the desire to obtain for the sake of having it, perhaps simply because he wished to be richer than his fellow man.

It is not need, man's imperitive to thrive, that will bring this world, and the fates of future generations to ruin. It is the greed of man, the wish to hoard and to indulge, because it is not only the depletion of the resources of the world, for it is a given that when man reaches the stars, resources can and will be found elsewhere. However, greed deprives required resources from those that need it, and those who have not the means to survive might be the ones who hold the keys to mankind's advances.

The greatest waste of a life is to go through it without bringing advancement. It does not matter if it is personal, or if it is helping those with potential reach it.

-Gabe

The sword, the world, the hammer...

2009-05-03T13:51:00.000-07:00

To those of you whom have me on Facebook, you would probably have read my statuses at one point of time or another. While, they usually do not reflect what I am actually doing, some are glimmers into what goes on in my world. Random thoughts, quotes from media, that sort of thing. Now, one of the more recent ones was:

"I carry the weight of the world on my back, the judge's hammer in my left, and the soldier's sword in my right"

To most of you, these words are probably something of a manifestation of a desire to affirm my masculinity though the symbolic values of each of the objects; men carry the weight of the world, and I put myself in that position to affirm my masculinity. Men fight to protect their homes and families, and so they carry the sword. By projecting an image of myself holding a sword, I might by trying to, yet again, affirm masculinity. Also, swords, according to Freud, are also very phallic symbols. Men are in positions of power, holding the authority to pass judgement onto others, hence the judge's hammer. However, while this is a possible interpretation, the true root of the statement lies not within myself, but my preception of another.

I have two names, Gabriel and Daniel. Now, these names are of biblical origin, and hold meanings in Hebrew. "Gabri-El" means "strong man of God", or interpretable to be "God is my strength". Since ancient times, the sword has been the symbol of strength, hence the sword. "Dan-I-El" means "Judgement of God" or "Judged by God". Hopefully the former, in my case. The judge's emblem is the hammer. And we all know the story of the man who carried the weight of the world upon His shoulder.

So, by now, all the Christians reading are going, "OOOOOOOH." No, it's not that simple.

You see, I am, I believe, very damned unique. I have yet to meet anyone who is in any shape exactly similar to me. Seriously. There are my friends, people whom I have similar interests, personalities which match, not people who are like me. Probably cause if I were to ever spend time around someone who was exactly like me, I would go crazy.

Having said that, I believe in what I call thinking forward. It's becoming what you think yourself to be. Hence, projecting an image of myself where I am strong enough to support my world, fair and impartial in judgements, and have the strength to carry on in my endeavours, I believe I will one day become that. That's why I put it up.

Remember the lessons of the past, live the challenges of the present, and face the troubles of the future head on!

-Gabe

A place I dream of...

2009-04-19T12:16:00.000-07:00

It's been exactly 104 days since I arrived here since my christmas break. It will be roughly 1 year from now that I expect to return for a break. I plan to stay there for the duration of one semester, roughly three and a half months. What I will do with my time here will include learning how to cook properly, hang out with friends, catch up with people that I didn't have time to say hi to , and celebrate my 20th birthday with the best of my friends.

But now, for this one year, I am stuck in college studying, working at a sandwich joint for minimum wage, staying at home and surfing Youtube, and instant messaging my friends back home at 2 in the morning because they're asleep when I'm awake. Yes, I'm wasting away. Not really, but you get the idea. I don't mesh well with the people here, somehow. Most of their activities consist of hanging out at the mall (female), going to the bar to watch the hockey game (male), going to a club (both), and overall not stuff I would do. There's absolutely nothing to do in Canadian malls. They're desolate, I tell you.

So, relating to the title. When I say, "lets go for a drink," I mean, "lets go to a mamak store and grab a few teh tarik." When I say it here, the implication is "Lets go to the bar and grab a few beers." It's a subtle cultural thing. I can't say that bars and beers are bad. But, I do miss having a few friends talking for hours on end, sitting around a crappy, dirty, sticky table, drinking teh tarik, which is dirt cheap, laughing at the one wuss who would order a limau ais because it was 'too hot to have a warm drink'. I miss it all too much. I can see it all now: the noisy environment; the warm air; the laughter; the girls, who would order more than they can eat, give the stuff to the guys; the guys, who were too cheap to buy their own food and leech off their friend's plates; the mamaks who were running about, shouting to each other the orders; a freshly cooked roti telur bawang ghee, a joint creation between a friend and I. There is little I wouldn't give for all that now.

To you whom are not of the LotES, let me clarify a few terms here, mainly the ones you see in italics.

-a mamak is a Muslim South Indian person. Their cuisine is a fusion of Indian roti and malay sambals.

-a teh tarik (lit. pulled tea) is the national drink of the LotES. It consists of breakfast tea and copious amounts of sweetened condensed milk. Since no cold milk is used to cool it down, the tea is rather hot. However, before serving, the tea is 'pulled' by pouring from one glass, raised high, into another, usually about hip level. This not only cools the drink, but introduces air and creates foam.

-a limau ais (lit. iced lime) is a drink where lime juice is mixed with sugar water, and ice is added to cool it down. It is probably the ultimate thirst quencher/cooler.

-roti (lit. bread) is an Indian dish where dough is grilled on a solid, usually cast iron, skillet. It is crunchy and oily. It is usually served with lentil curry (dhal), chicken, fish or mutton curry. In mamak stores, it is also served with sambal, which is a thick paste made from different chilli peppers and other condiments. Telur means egg, and bawang means onion. Ghee is clarified butter, used often in Indian cuisine. Hence, a roti telur bawang ghee is a piece of roti stuffed with eggs, onions and fried in clarified butter.

Man cannot live on roti alone...

-Gabe

Under the blue sky...

2009-04-16T12:19:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I'm climbing, nay, clawing my way out of the pit, an unfilled hole in my heart. I'm not, by any means, out of the dark just yet. But I'm getting there. I think I owe all my readers (all 5 of you...) an explaination.

So, I left the Land of the Eternal Summer in June 2008, 2 weeks after I had been released from National Service. Suffice to say that I had left my fair share of loose ends when I left. Didn't have much time to say goodbye to friends, to catch up, anything of that kind. I left a coward, a liar and a traitor.

When I was given 3 weeks to be home in December, I resolved to tie up those loose ends. I went home, called up friends, talked to people, did stuff, payed for a couple of meals, said my goodbyes. It was good. Then I left, thinking that I had finished my duty. I was at peace. For a time.

Now, I have friends who are very much interested in the fields of Music, Acting and Game Design. However, due to the rampant piracy that is almost legal in my home country, these industries suffer due to lack of revenue. Whilst here, I realised that both these industries boom. I'm only here for an education, while those back home are either going starve doing what they love, or stuck in a dead end job they hate. Either way, I figured that I was a wasting an oppotunity that was better spent on someone else. So, descent.

Add onto that the fact that I have a friend whom I have not seen or spoken to in person for over a year, whom I tried to buy dinner for, but is so damned disorganised that whenever we agree on a day to do something, some unforseen event leaves my plans in ruins, or even forgetting it altogether. That idiot is so disorganised it makes me look like a long-term planner in comparison. I shouldn't be prying, seeing as everyone must live their own lives, but the idiot is leaving all of us worried.

In the end, I looked up one day and the haze of emotion gave way to an understanding. We're all here, under the same blue sky. It is nothing, and everything, that makes the closest ones feel the furthest, and the furthest ones feel the closest.

The gift of weeping is perhaps the greatest of God's mercies. Happy they who know not the pain of tearless sorrow.

-Gabe

I'm a damned sap

2009-04-08T15:27:00.000-07:00

Okay, ever heard a song, a story or something that somehow affects you in ways you in ways that can only be described as emotional? The level of empathy I'm talking is somewhere between living it and being a close relative of a person in a tragedy, who, incidentally, is a created character. I cannot begin to explain how utterly pathetic that is. It frustrates me to have to try and combat all these emotions with reason. Suffice to say that a battle easily, and often, lost.

By the time you've gotten to this line, you'd fancy me a wannabe stone-cold bastard. I'm not, really! On one hand, I am, by no stretch of the imagination, a hopeless romantic. However, I haven't a heart of stone, either. I can, and do, empathise with people, fictional or not. It's the degree of this particular bout of empathy that I'm not comfortable with. To lose focus and functionality in other things because of preoccupation with a story is unacceptable to my own standards.

The worst part about all this is that it forces some things that are best left buried to the surface. You, my dear reader, have, hopefully, no idea what I'm talking about. To those who think they do, shut the hell up. It probably isn’t what you think. Something that I thought I had left buried deep found its way back to the surface. As for why, I blame the aforementioned article. It left me unable to solve simple math equations, and that just ticks the hell out of me.

Furthermore, I'm left with no one to vent about this to, try as I may. I’m not a person to make friends carelessly, and I keep those I have closer. I live as a walking testament to the people around me who have shaped me. See what your hand have wrought, friends! Inspect your handiwork.

Okay, even after this post, I feel no better than I did when I started. The guy who told me venting online helps is a liar. I have to rethink the whole point of a blog, whether it's to relate my experiences and accompanying thoughts, or it is simply an outlet where I can find respite from the world.

Pain and suffering are the side effects of growth

-Gabe

Okay, so I've been away...

2009-04-07T13:22:00.000-07:00

And I offer an appology. I've been busy. Busy with things that are quite far outside my comfort zone(hate to be there, by the way), and time management is quite the bitch, frankly. However, a blog this is, and because I'm here at my college (because I'm quite settled in with no intention of returning home so early) without anything better to do, I'll tell you about the last 2 months.

You see, I've been working at a place called Quizno's Subs for 8 CAD an hour, roughly 15 hours a week. Do the math. After 2 months of work, I can barely pay my tuition. I know, it's kinda sad, working 3 5-hour shifts a week for 2 months and only scrapping together enough to pay for my school fees. Not exactly what I had imagined myself at. When I got the job, 3 things came to my mind. Killer computer, PS3 and Rock Band 2. Having done some math, the total came to about 3 grand. Calculated to have that by the end of summer. Okay. So I went to work, albeit without grandiose expectation about working conditions. Everyday at work I reminded myself of the hardware that I would eventually own. That kept me going. Then..., my school bill arrived. Whee. So, instead of indulging myself, I had to burn my own head-earned money on college.

Okay, now about college itself. What I took this semester are PHYS 107, pre-calculus physics, MATH 120, calculus I, CHEM 110, chemistry I (structure of matter), and ENGL 103, studies into fiction. Here's the breakdown: my physics teacher is a bore, which forces me and a few others to band together to get a study group going; we basically skip all the classes and are still at the top 10% of the class. That's sad. Math is fun, never knew you could do so much with derivatives. Chem started kinda slow, then sped up. Did not like all that abstract stuff with electron orbitals, though. The rest was quite enjoyable. English, was probably (yet again) the most challenging course I took this semester. Reading into books isn't as easy as reading a book. Similar as they may be, interpretations tend to be quite biased.

Now, I could bore you endlessly with what I did over the course of the winter. I can break it down into 4 categories. Things I did in college, things I did at home, things I did in between, and miscellaneous activities. Seriously, the 4th category is devoid of anything of interest, save perhaps the weekly attendance of the Mass. The 3rd is comprised of mostly cursing in cold weather that I was 2 minutes late for the bus, and trying to stay warm for another half hour. Cold is much worse than heat, let me assure you. I sometimes miss the Land of the Eternal Summer, especially during the winter, and anything less than 3 layers will cause frostbite. Now, the weather is finally warming up, and I look forward to summer, when I can ride a bicycle around and leave the house with a T-shirt and shorts on.

Wall o' text, indeed. I hope my update is not unread. Truly, don't hold it against me. I was swamped in other things to have anything to say on my blog.

I can't, for the life of me, understand how others around me have the propencity to find specific events in their daily life to share, which are, in retrospect, either entertaining, insightful or thought-provoking. Perhaps, that is a talent that escapes me completely, but I am not remorseful, as many would gladly trade that for something they might see in me. It is, I suspect, not self-awareness that spurs this realisation of talents they see in me, but perhaps, excessive pride. I am no master of my heart; no man is. But, perhaps, through self-realisation of vices, I can attempt to overcome the hypocrisy that plagues our world as much today as it has all through the annals of history. However, I doubt my ability to. Vanity of vanities, indeed.

On a final note, I should really post more often, seeing as my classes are almost over and I'm taking a break from work.

i regret this now
however, i cannot stop
i must be this; me

-Gabe

The new one!

2009-02-12T20:12:00.000-08:00

Refer to my earlier post about my quickly shifting interests.

Okay, so now I have no chance to go and tag people with paint, with it being winter and all. So, I started looking to my next interest. Within weeks, I found it.

Rubik's Cubes.

Okay, once you've settled down from breaking out in pearls of laughter, there's something I have to say. Rubik's cubes are quite simple to solve, once you have the technique down. Now, there are probably some of you who are saying to yourselves, "Hah, so you say. Let's see you do it." To you I say, "Okay."

So, I can solve a 3x3x3 cube. That's nice and all, but something I saw on Youtube just made me wanna go and get more. A 4x4x4 cube. Now, some may argue that the method of solving a 4x4x4 is not much different than solving a 3x3x3, and they'd be right, key word being 'much'. Only getting the middle and sides, then solving as a 3x3x3, right? Wrong. Then, there's parity. What parity is, is that when 2 blocks have their positions switched, and there's no similar way to switch them that is also used in 3x3x3 solving. So, there is a loooooong move pattern to memorise for different cases. Suffice to say that it isn't the same.

Anyway, things go the way they go, but my hunt must continue. Wish me luck!

Stay frosty!

-Gabe

I'm Back..... (a.k.a the MoaP)

2009-01-18T09:33:00.000-08:00

Okay, I think I have some explaining to do for my absence. Since my exams began on the 6th of December and ended on the 10th, i had been studying. After that, I had to go shopping before my return to the Bolehland. Upon arrival, I was internet connection deprived, and then after my connection had returned, I was too busy going around with my parents (I was only there for 3 weeks. Quite seriously, I was stranded too (Had no phone, precious little cash to use). After my departure, the next two weeks were something of a transitional period, where I had to get reaccustomed to life as a student, and even some more newer adjustments in the realm of public transport.

Okay, so I have covered everything that's happened at the macroscopic level. But, that's not quite what a blog is for, am I right? It's for the details of the events that the writer is experiencing. So, now for the mother of all posts.

Let us begin where it left off. The exams. Since then I have had the joy of recieving my final grades, but with results a tad lower than I had anticipated. Since then I have enrolled and started past the first month classes. My only hope is to keep my grades as high as they were last semester.

After my exams had concluded, I had to buy everything that everyone back home in the Land of the Eternal Summer (which hence shall be refered as LotES) had requested. The list goes something like this... Ice Hockey vizor(specific model), mouthguard case, tracksuit, skull cap, Wii games, maple syrup, pine nuts, walnuts and granola bars. And I had 3 days to get it all. You can imagine the rush. Fun.

So I got home and gave everyone what they wanted, but then my parents weren't home, so I had to stay with my sister and her family for about a week. Suffice to say that I wasn't very mobile during that time, due to my keyless condition which limited my mobility. I had no phone, no internet and no car. You can imagine.

When my parents do get back, and I'm staying with them, I took the oppotunity to go out as much as possible. However, due to the vast majority of my friends either working, studying, living in a dorm in college on weekdays or some combination of the above, I had not the chance to meet with some of them. This is probably the greatest regret I have about the trip home to LotES. That I wasn't able to meet up with quite a few friends of mine.

With the few that I did, however, I had a ball. Telling them stories about stuff that happened in NS and Canada. Some of the things I said made utterly no sense to them, however, and this can be attributed to the fact that I had, unbeknownst to myself, picked up some Canadian slang that I assumed everyone understood. [Canadian] Eh? [/Canadian]

So, I get back to Canada, and, I bullshit you none, I get picked up at the airport, and get dropped off at my college for my 2nd class (it so happened that I had missed my first class by about 3 hours). And, wouldn't you know it, jet lag set in, and before I knew it, I was face-forward on my desk, drooling on my book. Yay for jetlag.

In any case, sorry it took so long for me to put up another post. Will do more. Look out for it!

Over and out!

-Gabe

Why...?

2008-12-05T17:12:00.000-08:00

To be given too much time to do something, to procrastinate by doing this totally unrelated to the given task, then kicking it into superhigh gear to only barely finish the assignment and recieve a lower than desired mark. Yes, that is my destiny.

I have a qwerk. I have a tendency to see something, to be immensely passionate about it for roughly.... two weeks. Then, my interest evaporates like ethanol on an Egyptian sidewalk. This is known to be a trait of Geminis (to all you Geminis out there saying "hey, that's not true...", I'm not stating this to be Gospel truth. My Horoscope has been wrong more than it's been right). It is also a trait of the people born in the Lunar Year of the Horse. Unluckily, I happen to be both. That's a double threat, kinda like spraying NH3 onto a stale piss soaked rag, and then letting it air-dry. Indoors. With no fans.

A good example of the qwerks I get is the time when a few of my friends and I decided to make a whole deck of playing cards from thin cardboard, art bloc, masking tape and clear tape. Suffice to say that as soon as the tedious treating of the individual cards began, we quickly dropped the project. How did we do it? It's quite simple, really. Just draw the card's face on the artblock, get some school glue, glue those together, put masking tape on the other side of the cardboard, and put clear tape on both sides to protect it. Refer to the below diagram.

The next obsession I had was writing a novel. I actually got to the 50th page before running dry on ideas. The actual contents still play in my mind once in awhile, and I intend to finish that, more for myself than for others. That being said, in this small period of self-awareness, doubt that I will ever get myself to sit down and write. It is with some deliberation that I bring your attention to my newest passion.

Paintball.

Yes, paintball. It hurts no more than a rat tail and is loads more fun. I have scoured the Internet and have spent hours researching everything there is to know about paintball. Positions, terminology, styles of competitive play, equipment, rules in competition. The list goes on. My idea to build a bolt action paintball marker to increase effective range, speed and accuracy was, as I believed, new. However, even on Youtube, I've found no less than 4 bolt action paintball markers, just for the cool factor. The engineering aspects of the changes to the usual marker that I had planned were physically sound. The main problem was that all guns have to be capped at below 300 feet per second. What this meant was that despite my want to create a paintball sniper, and ability to, I would not be able to use it, because of regulation of maximum speed. Now, some of you may be going: "Why?" Well, because of the extreme nature of paintballing, everyone has to wear goggles which protect their eyes and face. The goggles are only rated for 285 feet per second, so any faster than that, and the paintball could shatter the goggle and hit you in the eye. Thus, even adding a 64 cubic inch tank, rifling, a bolt action reload mechanism and a scope will not make it any more accurate than it already is because of the speed limit (except maybe the rifling).

So, with my dreams dashed, all I have left is the know-how to play basic paintball. I could still potentially go and play it.

Keep your feet on the ground!

-Gabe

Musically, ...

2008-12-03T02:48:00.000-08:00

To each his own; different strokes for different folks; one man's poison is another man's meat, all of these signify taste. While there are some who blindly cling onto what they believe is the best, I find it is always good to take a walk and see life from the other side of the fence, to walk in another's shoes.

As per the title, I will divulge in my personal musical preferences and other things musical, from Avenged Sevenfold to Bach, from Metallica to Beethoveen, from Louis Armstrong to Switchfoot. You can probably already tell my taste in music is... wide. Personally, the music I listen to is influenced by many factors, friends for example. The more modern music was introduced to me by my friends. However, I can scarcely imagine anyone under the age of 26 who likes Satchmo' or Arty Shaw. In that respect, I am something of an anomaly. Classical music is timeless, yes, but Jazz is somewhat an aquired taste. At first, I myself did not like it, perhaps because of its over rambunctiousness. Soon, though, I came to see it as lively, and energetic without all the rage of rock music.

Maybe, just maybe you did not notice any pop music or R&B. While I do not find them offensive or inappropriate, the styles just don't possess any sort of hold on me. The obvious beats are good for dancers, whom rely on the beat of the music for timing. Pop music, on the other hand, has improved. I don't object to the music itself, but it's the performers whom I dislike. Too much time and money has been wasted on reporting on every single qwerk of theirs, from winks to eyelash flirts to who is dating whom, and so on and so forth. It's appalling how the young generation (that's mine) fawn over the singers of today.

Classical music is, without a doubt, the most beautiful of the styles of music. Rock will cause your head to bob up and down, and Metal causes blood to rush through your veins as if you hooked your heart to a 747 engine. Jazz will lift you out of a deep dark hole of depression and somber you up. However, only Classical can show you a piece of your soul, no matter who the composer is. Somehow, if you stop, listen, and look within, you come into contact with a part of you that perhaps you didn't know existed. Bach's Tocatta and Fugue in D minor for Organ summons the sinister, which is not entirely evil, however; instead of being wholly evil, it is a complex characteristic, with darker motives. Mozart's Eine Kleine Nachtmuzik brings forth the gentleman, the formal socialite. He creeps me out. Handel's "Hallelujah Chorus" in his Oratorio "Messiah" evokes the image of salvation and light, themes that I personally love. Beethoveen's 9th Symphony "Choral", more commonly known as "Ode to Joy", is about how all men are brothers. I can't name the feeling that is brought out by this. The music is both majestic and humble, both magnificient and yet simple enough for the uninitiated to appereciate. The original version in German is not coarse as the language is; it is forceful without being overbearing; harmonious and accented. It is one of my favourite pieces.

Whether or not you agree with me, let us agree on this: music is inseperable from the world from which it is wrought. With the world as it is, is it any surprise that popular music is about almost nothing but sex, drugs, and the overemphasis on having romantic relationships? It is a world that must be changed by us, the youth of today, the kings of tomorrow.

The pen is mightier than the sword, and it is the pen I wield. . .

-Gabe

The MSFI

2008-12-02T00:15:00.000-08:00

You may have noticed my irrational and unexplained disdain of the MSFI. If you went to school with or as the same place as me, you'd understand. To all you else, however, there is explaining to be done.

You see, education (I'm using the politically correct term here) is compulsory in Malaysia, with every parent having to enroll their child into primary school at the age of 7. It is also not uncommon for parents to enroll their children in pre-schools or kindergardens. My parents did so, and I was more or less used to being away from my parents by the time I got into Primary school.

That's right, primary school. That's sorta a combination of Elementary and the first two years of Middle school to anyone who doesn't understand that.

So, Primary school was terrible, if you wanna know. Why? Well, that's for me to know and you to try to pry it out of me. Either way, I got out of Primary school and into Secondary school. Kind of a 'duh' transition, isn't it? Anyway, Secondary school was a crapload more fun, mainly because of the freedom I got, in more ways than one. School was fun. Wow. I can't believe I said that.

Back to the reason I don't like the education system. I enjoyed myself as much as possible in school, but the classes. Holy crap, you cannot possibly imagine the depths of idiocy of the people I have had to call 'teacher'. Don't believe me? Try this. A Physics "teacher" who doesn't teach Physics, instead rants about how we don't give him enough respect, how we should save the world by turning off the fans while in sweltering heat, the lights before daybreak, to somehow "save diesel", and that the resources used are not renewable, and how the world is going to be destroyed by energy shortage. All this in the space of an hour and fifteen minutes. "Oh, I was just about to start teaching, but my time's up! See you next class!" It's no wonder everyone, even the bootlickers, boycotted his class.

That might have been an extreme case, but there are other reasons. Racist teachers, for example. I, personally, have never gotten less than an A in English. The first 3 years secondary school I kept my record. Then, when I was in Form 4 (age:16), I got perhaps the most discriminatory teacher I have ever faced. I wrote an essay, and when I had it returned, I was in for the shock of my life. A 'B'! I've never gotten a 'B' for English before. I complained to her, showing her my supposed 'bad grammar' that was in actuality only in intransitive passive voice. As if she needed a reason to rob me of my 'A'. I looked at my classmate's papers, people who had never gotten a credit for English before. Lo and behold, it had an 'A' on it. I read through his essay; it was incoherent, laced with grammatical errors like poison in a cyanide pill, and the spelling almost lead me to believe that truth was spelled with two 'H's, so frequent was the mistake. And yet, only the most severe and unmistakable of the errors was pointed out. The difference between him and me? The day we pray, him on Friday and me on Sunday.

At first, I thought that she was only dangling a carrot on a stick, attempting to drive me to excel. It is worth noting that at this point, my Asian friends had the same grades as me. I read their's over, as well. Although I agreed with the mistakes made grammatically, I did not agree with the grade. All thing through time, they say. In time, I saw what it was: a personal vendetta against all who prayed to a different God or had a different tone of skin. Some people really just can't see past the things that divide us and look at the things that unite us instead. It's really something I can barely wrap my head around.

However bleak I have depicted it, the MSFI has employed some good people. Even fools must sometimes be right by mistake, I suppose. Some of the teachers I've had are intelligent, willing to share knowledge and passionate. It's not good to lock any group into a stereotype, because stereotypes destroy individuality.

All that is yours is rightfully mine, and mine it will be. . .

-Gabe

Examinations

2008-11-29T20:30:00.001-08:00

Ah, the bane of my existance, woe of my eternal soul. Of what do I speak? Of the undeniable effect exams have on both my schedule and my confort zone. Even worse, with me in college and having new courses every semester, things go even further out of the bounds of familiarity.

But enough of these heavy matters! Let us now turn to more heartening things. The past semester here has been mighty fun, I must say. College is, in a word, different. However, it is different in a good way, a way that both sets challanges before me and is kinder than its younger, Malaysian counterpart, the Malaysian school system, or as so labeled by yours truly, the Ministry of Shit-flinging Imbecilles (MSFI).

The past semester I have taken four courses, namely Chemistry, Pre-Calculus, Academic Writing (English), and Basic Japanese. Of the four, Academic Writing is the hardest, and the rest are fine. Academic Writing is also the only University level course I'm currently taking; hence, any judgement on the difficulty of the courses may or may not be biased.

So, as time goes on, I draw closer to my exams. I have probably close to no doubts about my Chemistry and Japanese courses right now. Math is not very challenging, which is probably why I'm slacking in that respect. English, there is no written test, but a final argument paper to hand in. Research, writing and printing are all done unsupervised, but there is a deadline to be kept. This is perhaps the one paper I am fretting over. Not concerned about the others, because procrastination does not affect those courses (as much). As some of you may know, I have a saying: "Why leave to tomorrow, what can be done the day after." With that philospohy in mind, you can easily see why this might be a problem. Research and writing of the essay must be done over time, not simply scribbled over a short period of time. This plays on my greatest weakness: laziness.

Okay, so I've done fairly well in the past semester. This final exam will decided my GPA outta the gates. This is what will show my progress. All hopes rest on this.

May the stars guide you

-Gabe

In Service of My Nation, Part 2

2008-11-24T21:58:00.000-08:00

After the brief respite the holiday gave me, I felt ill-prepared to face the horrors that were the days to come. We had left camp with a good spirit. However, the balance in power violently shifted as the newly appointed platoon, company and battalion commanders exterted their newly earned powers on us. As per a revelation told by a friend who had not went home, much had changed in my absence. Sides were taken, and hostilities aggravated. There was a power struggle, though the authorities in camp did their best to integrate these almost alien divisions in the dorms, much still happened when our handlers were not looking.

I found respite in the weekly excursions to a church, where I was surrounded by people who shared my faith. Here was where I made one of my closest friends in NS, Eugene. We were good friends, shared beliefs, related and non-related to our faith, and opinions. He was frequently missing from camp to have interviews with would-be scholarship-givers. He was determined, however, to finish NS, and I was no different in my resolution. I attempted to drown the anxiety of seperation from my parents by immersing myself in any and every activity I could. And to boot, Gene was there doing the crazy stuff with me. However, whatever hope I had of braving the storm that NS was quickly evaporated.

During the second month, Gene got a reply from one of the people who interviewed him. It seemed that he had gotten the scholarship, and that he was going to France. I congratulated him, and he continued to say that he needed to leave NS to learn French so that he could understand the lessons. I understood the logic, but for some reason, emotion is not subject to reason. From that point on, all went downhill.

The group I hung around (lets call them the English speakers) were comprised mostly of Chinese and Indians. Being English speakers, a grand majority of them scored quite well in their SPM. When the time rolled around, and the STPM offers came out, the grand majority from earlier used it as tickets out of camp. They abandoned (for lack of a better word) me in there. With our numbers severely diminished (there were originally 26 of us, but of the 26, only 4 remained), we were quickly demoralised. Demoralised in that those who vowed to stand with us till the end have so quickly and easily walked away. I, myself, was able to do just that, for I, too, had an offer. However, I am a man of my word (though some may deny that), and I promised to myself to finish it. I had few companions, some that, like me, had either the gall to reject the offer or the poor foutune to be excluded from the STPM offers. It was lonely.

Despite whatever hardships that NS brought, I think it taught me several things. First, some people are just spoiling for a fight, and will say or do anything to try and provoke you. It's almost funny how pitiful their insults and taunts become. Secondly, some people are just plain ignorant. It's funny how every single Chinese guy in the dorm is 'Chong'. Last, but not least, never be too high-strung to sell Maggie Mee (that's instant noodle to all you non-Malaysians). Because Maggie Mee is the currency of NS.

I hate NS

-Gabe

In Service of My Nation, Part 1....

2008-11-24T21:06:00.000-08:00

Okay, to you who may or may not have noticed, I mentioned National Service in my first post. Yes, I was one of the [un]lucky few whom were chosen to partake in the glorious country of Malaysia's very own National Service Training Program (which I shall now refer to as NS).

It was a quiet afternoon I was spending in my friend Hadri's house. We had been informed that the postings of the candidates (victims) of NS were up. As the nervous wrecks we were, we stuck on the computer checking if our names were among the dreaded list.

My friends were fortunate. My fate was not theirs. They had the luxury of not being drafted into the army (whatever twisted version of it we were conscripted into). I was the last one to check if my name was in the list. Before that, I had been indifferent to the prospect of going to NS. I had heard the stories of it bringing the best and worst out of people. On one hand, this was a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity. On the other, it was a balant waste of my time, time that could be devoted to the furtherment of mankind (playing WoW). Once my name turned up on that list, perhaps, my indifference morphed into seething hatred. Not instantly, but over the course of my first 3 weeks in camp.

Another factor was my (then undetermined) imminent move to Canada. My parents had planned for us, the entire family to get our landed immigrant status. If I had somehow been unfortunate, the term of NS would clash with the planned flight and trip and so many things would have been different. However, for whatever brief moment, fate smiled apon me, and they worked out. I went to Canada for 3 weeks, getting things set up for my second coming (I hear a voice from high up say, "that's copyright infringement!").

On the last day, as in the day before my flight home, I visited the high school to clarify certain things. As it turned out, I could have attended high school in Canada. So, with 3 hours, I had to decided between staying in Canada, and doing Grade 12, and never return home for fear that the government would flag my passport and get detained for not going to NS, and the worst part was staying away even before I said goodbye to my friends.

Now, I'm not a very sentimental guy, but my friends deserve at least a goodbye, right?

The second alternative was the one I chose: I still debate internally about the decision. To return home, and deal with the consequences of lacking a Grade 12 education. This would basically put me in the predicament I described a few posts back, where I had to take 3 courses that do not really exist in the University.

But, I digress. Back to NS. So, when I return, I had 2 weeks to enjoy the comforts of home before I was thrust into the internment camps fashioned from whatever scraps the government could salvage from the surrounding villages. I was unimpressed. I quickly made alliances, however. Unlike most, I did not discriminate race, and was civil to everyone in my dormitory. However, I found friends in those I share most in, namely proficiency in the English language. Within the week, I returned home for a short while, and resteeled my spirit for the ordeal that was to come.

More to come, soon.

-Gabe

More on life in Canada

2008-11-24T20:21:00.000-08:00

To all you Malaysians, perhaps the concept of volunteering is foreign just as I am foreign to what the Korean kids in the back are saying (annoys me to hell that there are Asians that I can't understand...).

As I'm told, the gist of this concept is that I go to someone and work for free. Yes, work for free. In return, when I am applying for a job, my potential employers may call the people whom I volunteered for. They have a brief chat about my personality, dependability and work ethics. Other than that, having at least 2 references (that's what they're called) is one of the requirements to applying for a job.

So, as I carry on my life in Canada, I'm constantly told, nay, hounded by my family to get started with volunteering. According to my niece, a sufficient amount of volunteer hours are also a requirement to graduate high school. I have never felt fresher off a boat than the second this facet of Canadian culture was revealed to me; I had originally intended to apply for a job here to at least supplement my parents monetary contributions (they gimme money, okay?).

With the current price of college tuition even in Malaysia, some of you might be wondering how I might be able to support myself with a part time job. Well, with regards to that, I assume those who think so are ignorant of the minimum wage law of Canada, which states that the minimum wage an adult may be paid for work is CAD 8 per hour. Multiply that by 3 to convert to ringgit. Now do you understand?

As far as this matter goes, working with strangers in a foreign place is further out of my comfort zone that I would like. However, listening to their statements, opinions and such, I have applied (albeit reluctantly) to volunteer for the city. However, after attending one information session, I have been swamped with work (read:stuff that I can't stop doing) and exam tension (read: sleep). Hence, I have not followed up with them since. I do suppose, however, that I am somehow obligated to at the very least show some closure; either give them the nessesary documents and get an interview, or tell them that I am not interested.

Deliver me from procrastination

-Gabe

Got tagged again...

2008-11-22T23:13:00.001-08:00

Sigh... It's like my name is flaming bright with neon arrows pointing to it that say "TAG ME!!"

1. If your lover betrayed you, what would your reaction be? Take revenge?

Well, since I'm thinking about it, I don't know what I would do with all the adrenaline and such.

2. If you can have a dream come true, what would it be?

Hmm, it's complicated, but something along the lines of reversing the current e=mc² reactions.

3. Whose butt would you like to kick?

I have no idea.

4. Do you cry yourself to sleep?

No...

5. Will you fall in love with your best friend?

Which one? Would not with the majority of them, seeing as I don't swing that way.

6. Which is more blessed, loving someone or being loved by someone?

Loving someone. While it might be one-sided, some people love for the sake of loving.

7. How long do you intend to wait for someone you really love?

Forever.

8. If the person you like is already attached, what would you do?

If she's happy, then wish her the best. If she's mistreated, beat the shit outta the guy who's doing it.

9. If you were to die in two weeks time, what would you do?

Go to confession and stay in church.

10. Are you a giver or a taker?

A giver. OF PAIN. Heheh.

Again, my principle stands. Do it yourselves if you want to.

-Gabe

I got tagged

2008-11-22T22:18:00.000-08:00

1. Name one person who made you laugh last night:

Don't think I laughed last night.

2. What were you doing at 0800?

Sleeping. It's a Saturday.

3. What were you doing 30 minutes ago?

Starting up my blog.

4. What happened to you in 2006?

The SIC Youth Rally Outreach Team.

5. What's the last thing you said out loud?

See ya later.

6. How many beverages did you have today?

One if water doesn't count and hot chocolate does.

7. What colour is your hairbrush?

Skin-coloured. It's my hand.

8. What was the last thing you paid for?

A 1/4 pound cheese and bacon burger with curly fries.

9. Where were you last night?

At home.

10. What colour is your front door?

Mahogany.

11. Where do you keep your change?

On top of my clothes drawer.

12. What's the weather like today?

Sunny, with highs of 9 degrees.

13. What's the best ice-cream flavour?

I'm kinda torn between vanilla and cookie dough

14. What excites you?

World of Warcraft: Wrath of the Lich King

15. Do you want to cut your hair?

Don't want to, but I have to.

16. Are you over the age of 25?

No.

17. Do you talk a lot?

Yes, perhaps too much for my own good and the good of everyone else.

18. Do you watch the O.C?

Only on a map.

19. Do you know anyone named Steven?

Yep.

20. Do you make up your own words?

Yep. Eg, humunginormous.

21. Are you a jealous person?

Nope. Envious.

22. Name a friend whose name starts with the letter 'A'

Aaron[s].

23. Name a friend whose name starts with the letter 'K'

Kathleen. She tagged me.

24. Who the first person on your received call list?

Don't have a phone, but my skype has a call list, in which case it's Aaron Max

25. What does the last text message you received say?

msg me when you get back - Aaron Max

26. Do you chew on your straw?

Only when drinking limau ais to prevent on me drinking lime seeds.

27. Do you have curly hair?

No.

28. Where's the next place you're going to?

Bed. Then bathroom. Then kitchen. Then church.

29. Who's the rudest person in your life?

That's a toughie. I'm thinking a primary school teacher of mine whose name I can't recall.

30. What was the last thing you ate?

Fried Fish.

31. Will you get married in the future?

That remains to be seen...

32. What's the best movie you've seen in the past 2 weeks?

Hmm. Haven't seen any new movies of late. Most recently, Ironman.

33. Is there anyone you like right now?

No. It's a character flaw.

34. When was the last time you did dishes?

This morning.

35. Are you currently depressed?

I wouldn't call it depressed. More of... unenthusiastic.

36. Did you cry today?

Nope, but I just suffered from a WoW-burn.

37. Why did you answer and post this?

I got tagged, and the tagger would hunt me down and kill me if I didn't.

38. Tag 5 people who would do this survey.

Hmm.

Okay, since I'm adverse to forcing my will onto others, here's the deal. After reading this, if you decided to do this yourselves, go ahead. If you don't, you're in no way obligated.

Truthfully

-Gabe

.. and on the other hand...

2008-11-22T21:30:00.000-08:00

I've been in Canada for a little less than 5 months now. Getting used to the climate isn't as hard as getting used to the culture. The culture of "pedestrians having the right of the road", for example. What this means is that if a car and I reach an intersection, the car has to stop and wait for me to go first, BY LAW. I kid you not, were I to get hit by a car when crossing the road, I could sue. If I got hit by a car crossing the road in Malaysia, I'd probably have to pay the guy damages I caused to his bonnet.

Another thing I'm trying to get used to this whole college thing. It's weird, in that I only have to do what I want to do. It seems too good on one hand. Then again, it's a combination of things I like to do and things I have to do to get to my goal, that is, to get into UBC's (that's University of British Columbia, www.ubc.ca) Engineering Program, which I hear is Hell On Earth. Huh.

One of the things I boned by is the fact that most of my SPM stuff is only equivalent to Grade 11. What that means is that I can't take 1st Year stuff straight away (except English, I took an exam that proved it to them), and that I take a one-semester course that basicly covers all the Grade 12 stuff. I waste cash for 3 courses. Better than spending 2 years in STPM. Morons.

Either way, I've been in rigorous planning for the next semester, and wouldn't you know it, Murphy's Law kicked in. According to their schedule, they would offer a Physics course in Summer, which is what I planned to do. They generally give schedules 2 semesters in advance. And there it was, plain as day. My course was not offered. I immediately e-mailed the Physics chair. Not the chair(furniture), the chair(chairperson in charge of Physics department). As it turns out, they had originally planned to offer it, but due to budget cutbacks, they had to cut the course. Whoop-tee-doo.

So, a few days back, I was stressing on this, but have come to realise this: Whenever my plans seem perfect, that son of a bitch Murphy will send his law from whatever hole in hell he lives in right now to screw me up the ass. It's kinda sad, but yet! I quote a intelligent person when I say this: "When you fail to plan, you plan to fail." So, I fight against the tide of things being messed up.

Okay, to those of you who have actually read this far without knowing what Murphy's Law is, I salute you, and think you deserve this at the very least. Murphy's Law states that whatever can go wrong, will go wrong.

Das Vidanya!

-Gabe

It burns....

2008-11-22T20:59:00.000-08:00

Okay, to some of you who know me, you know I am an avid gamer. Some of you may say: "Huh? Whazzat mean?" It means you can group me with those crazy kids in Korea that die after playing too much Starcraft and those parents who played so much their kids die.

To those of you who know me better, you know that I play a very famous MMORPG (That's Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game) named World of Warcraft. I have been for two years now. Had a slight hiatus with it last year, due to my SPM (I needn't translate this acryonym; those of you who know it already don't need it, and those who don't know it don't need to know) results, or rather, lack of. Yes, this game consumed so much of my time that my grades were slipping. I have an IQ of roughly 130, means I'm gifted, but I was scoring low-averagely. When it came down to it, I knew I had to take a break.

With those exams and National Service out of the way, I thought that I could restart the experience. Then, I had to go to Canada to further my studies. Once here, I discovered that my uncle, whose house I live in, has no Internet connection. Imagine my joy.

Recently, he has bought high-speed Internet. I rejoiced. I thought: "Finally! It's back to WoW(that's World of Warcraft)!" Hence, I bought the newest expansion pack, Wrath of the Lich King.

However, being in college, and remembering the side effects of WoW, I wisely (read:painfully) put the game aside, into a drawer. However, a few friends of mine and my brother are currently playing, leaving me in the proverbial dust.

How I wish I could start playing now. Every time I talk to them about it or hear news, something inside just beings to burn like a million suns. I then take out the box from my drawers, take a nice, long whiff, and think about a 4.00 GPA.

Have Mercy

-Gabe