Choices.
Choose, and at least try.
Then you absolve yourself from the sin of abdication.
Friday, November 11, 2005
?????????
So today I brought up the problem of eurocentricism in postmodern thought in class, and perhaps didn't get my message across. But even if I didn't get my message across, maybe my opinion was read loud and clear.
Yes, I think we're still being colonized by language, and maybe it's about time we understood that european languages and Enlightenment philosophy don't contain the answer to everything. In fact, I believe that the answer to many problems we face with modernism would be properly dealt we were we to open our intellecutal economies to other modes of thoughts and paradigms. It is true that international relations is an extremely American discipline, in a very unAmerican world. What gives?
But it was weird having people come up to me after class to further debate my point on the ideology of Asianic languages. Perhaps it's because I am Asian, or maybe it's CHIN 300 & 310, or the fact that i'm a Thirdie, but I do believe that there is a sense of discontent that I am experiencing wrt to European ideology and paradigms. But I have to stress, I belong to no other.
Now before I start speaking Derridian, the point of this post was to bring up how uncomfortable I felt to have a perfect stranger (and evesdropper - which was cute) debate with me on something that I have been journeying with for sometime. I felt extremely self-concious and was struck by some sort of academic vanity. I felt that by being unable to express my thoughts concisely in class had made me to be some sort of intelleucal faux pas, I basically said that the west sucks and being AZN rocks. Or did I?
Whatever the case, I'm learning the art of difference. That agreement will not come easily, and perhaps it shouldn't. And I hold a valid view that is contingent (the clincher for pomo) on this particular point in my life journey. Screw image. if I've said something unPC in class and people hate me fore it, I shouldn't bow out and apologize, espcially if I am convicted.
If I do, how can I stand with the Word?
---
And let me go on, and on, and on.
Back from the gym I met someone who sought to rehabiliate Stalin. After doing a paradigmatic double-take, it all clicked in my mind.
Of course.
And so we go on to chat about the horrors of history and the worlds it spawns and denies. I wonder what the word for killing a universe is, veruscide? But that's what happens everyday. In class.
But anyway, I think there is a need to rehabilitate individuals such as Stalin, Hitler, Mao, Saddam, (Christina Aguilara?) and the like. Not to rehabilitate their deeds or ideologies, but to understand them in the concext of their humanity. They are human. And if we forget, or deny, or reject them of that, we then decide to turn a blind eye to the image in the mirror, to the truth of who we are as a race. I understand that this is sensitive and there have been many who have been personally affected, hurt and even broken by these individuals, and what they have done is monstrous beyond expression. But to deny them of their humanity, is to dilute, and even ignore the weight of their experience.
For us to brand them monsters and less-then-human, shifts the blame away and deems their deeds as oddities, functions of freaks of nature. Hence victims of these people were but unfortunate souls who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Let the blame fall on humanity as a whole. Let us rehabilitate these People, give them humanity, recognise that they have beauty, that they laugh, feel, love, cry, and that they, as with us, are made in the image of God.
And now what do we do with with horror on our hands? It's ours. Ours to own and to reconcile with. Sure we didn't personally engineer the murder of millions, but we come from the same stock. We owe humanity an apology, and ought to come to the hard recognition that we are not good for ourselves. Like some momento mori, the memory of these people ought to sit on our backs and humble us. They should be telling of the evil that resides in all of us, and of our responsibility to the marginalized and sufferers in this world. Dehumanizing them abdicates us from this responsibility.
Ohm tat sat.
Somethings never change
So today I brought up the problem of eurocentricism in postmodern thought in class, and perhaps didn't get my message across. But even if I didn't get my message across, maybe my opinion was read loud and clear.
Yes, I think we're still being colonized by language, and maybe it's about time we understood that european languages and Enlightenment philosophy don't contain the answer to everything. In fact, I believe that the answer to many problems we face with modernism would be properly dealt we were we to open our intellecutal economies to other modes of thoughts and paradigms. It is true that international relations is an extremely American discipline, in a very unAmerican world. What gives?
But it was weird having people come up to me after class to further debate my point on the ideology of Asianic languages. Perhaps it's because I am Asian, or maybe it's CHIN 300 & 310, or the fact that i'm a Thirdie, but I do believe that there is a sense of discontent that I am experiencing wrt to European ideology and paradigms. But I have to stress, I belong to no other.
Now before I start speaking Derridian, the point of this post was to bring up how uncomfortable I felt to have a perfect stranger (and evesdropper - which was cute) debate with me on something that I have been journeying with for sometime. I felt extremely self-concious and was struck by some sort of academic vanity. I felt that by being unable to express my thoughts concisely in class had made me to be some sort of intelleucal faux pas, I basically said that the west sucks and being AZN rocks. Or did I?
Whatever the case, I'm learning the art of difference. That agreement will not come easily, and perhaps it shouldn't. And I hold a valid view that is contingent (the clincher for pomo) on this particular point in my life journey. Screw image. if I've said something unPC in class and people hate me fore it, I shouldn't bow out and apologize, espcially if I am convicted.
If I do, how can I stand with the Word?
---
And let me go on, and on, and on.
Back from the gym I met someone who sought to rehabiliate Stalin. After doing a paradigmatic double-take, it all clicked in my mind.
Of course.
And so we go on to chat about the horrors of history and the worlds it spawns and denies. I wonder what the word for killing a universe is, veruscide? But that's what happens everyday. In class.
But anyway, I think there is a need to rehabilitate individuals such as Stalin, Hitler, Mao, Saddam, (Christina Aguilara?) and the like. Not to rehabilitate their deeds or ideologies, but to understand them in the concext of their humanity. They are human. And if we forget, or deny, or reject them of that, we then decide to turn a blind eye to the image in the mirror, to the truth of who we are as a race. I understand that this is sensitive and there have been many who have been personally affected, hurt and even broken by these individuals, and what they have done is monstrous beyond expression. But to deny them of their humanity, is to dilute, and even ignore the weight of their experience.
For us to brand them monsters and less-then-human, shifts the blame away and deems their deeds as oddities, functions of freaks of nature. Hence victims of these people were but unfortunate souls who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Let the blame fall on humanity as a whole. Let us rehabilitate these People, give them humanity, recognise that they have beauty, that they laugh, feel, love, cry, and that they, as with us, are made in the image of God.
And now what do we do with with horror on our hands? It's ours. Ours to own and to reconcile with. Sure we didn't personally engineer the murder of millions, but we come from the same stock. We owe humanity an apology, and ought to come to the hard recognition that we are not good for ourselves. Like some momento mori, the memory of these people ought to sit on our backs and humble us. They should be telling of the evil that resides in all of us, and of our responsibility to the marginalized and sufferers in this world. Dehumanizing them abdicates us from this responsibility.
Ohm tat sat.
Sunday, November 06, 2005
Zelpuz
There has never been a day since september 13th, that I've regretted moving into the house on Chancellor Blvd. This place has brought out so much in me and is a place of rest as well as of growth. I have found, living with these people, the propensity in me to serve, to tolerate, to love, to rejoice and to give. They make me laugh, bring me joy and reason to praise God. They also coax me out into fearlessness. Tony and I jammed together today on our Taylors after our dinner party, as we've been jamming for the past two nights. I've never jammed with someone else before.
Seriously??!
~ Tony
And of course, there's shu. Who puts it all into perspective, reminding me that a gift is meant to be given. And it has been on my heart to serve God with singing. I'm not the best in the world, but it's something I treasure anyway. And anything treasured, I believe, should be directed back to God.
But he's MINE!
~ Cherry
Cherry's here to visit too. She's a part of me that needs to be paid more attention too. I don't know where we will go relationally, but wherever the case, I love her. Her being here seems to integrate the chapters of my life together into something with more continuity. She reminds me that I cannot drop off a section of my life, like i seek to do and pick up another as if they were two completely different threads.
And then my mother calls.
PUZZLE! IT'S PUZZLE
~ Andre
There has never been a day since september 13th, that I've regretted moving into the house on Chancellor Blvd. This place has brought out so much in me and is a place of rest as well as of growth. I have found, living with these people, the propensity in me to serve, to tolerate, to love, to rejoice and to give. They make me laugh, bring me joy and reason to praise God. They also coax me out into fearlessness. Tony and I jammed together today on our Taylors after our dinner party, as we've been jamming for the past two nights. I've never jammed with someone else before.
Seriously??!
~ Tony
And of course, there's shu. Who puts it all into perspective, reminding me that a gift is meant to be given. And it has been on my heart to serve God with singing. I'm not the best in the world, but it's something I treasure anyway. And anything treasured, I believe, should be directed back to God.
But he's MINE!
~ Cherry
Cherry's here to visit too. She's a part of me that needs to be paid more attention too. I don't know where we will go relationally, but wherever the case, I love her. Her being here seems to integrate the chapters of my life together into something with more continuity. She reminds me that I cannot drop off a section of my life, like i seek to do and pick up another as if they were two completely different threads.
And then my mother calls.
PUZZLE! IT'S PUZZLE
~ Andre
Friday, November 04, 2005
I've been unfaithful
If there's anything you cannot fake, it's who you are in the presence of God. You CANNOT, try as you might, be plastic before God. The fascinating thing is that when you're plastic before God, it probably means that you're plastic before yourself. So screwed. So yeah, I realise that I've completely lost it when I start wondering why I don't feel spirituall fuzzy any more. And then it hits me how wrong the whole stucture is, me using God to fill my God-shaped hole, as opposed to God using me to glorify him.
More one hundred other lovers.
The biggest one being myself.
"cept for a few people who really are perfect... but they dont realize that they're any different from us" ~ Seth
That will be my spiritual aspiration. To shift my vision from myself, to God.
And that's it.
---
And to Seth, with whom I share a familar, albeit unintimate, mutual understanding. What can I say? I still stand in awe of our journey together, then and now. I think engaging with you has led me to see how we really are all made in the image of God.
If there's anything you cannot fake, it's who you are in the presence of God. You CANNOT, try as you might, be plastic before God. The fascinating thing is that when you're plastic before God, it probably means that you're plastic before yourself. So screwed. So yeah, I realise that I've completely lost it when I start wondering why I don't feel spirituall fuzzy any more. And then it hits me how wrong the whole stucture is, me using God to fill my God-shaped hole, as opposed to God using me to glorify him.
More one hundred other lovers.
The biggest one being myself.
"cept for a few people who really are perfect... but they dont realize that they're any different from us" ~ Seth
That will be my spiritual aspiration. To shift my vision from myself, to God.
And that's it.
---
And to Seth, with whom I share a familar, albeit unintimate, mutual understanding. What can I say? I still stand in awe of our journey together, then and now. I think engaging with you has led me to see how we really are all made in the image of God.
Sunday, October 30, 2005
I feel the need to explain the longdrawn silence that has been inflicting this blog. It just might die, sadly, after 3 years of expression. I'm just not spending as much time at my computer as I have done so before, and life is just so much better experienced then explained. But whatever, chances are that this blog will merely experience is shift in function as opposed to ceasing altogether.
----
My big thing of late is the evils of individualism and democratization. In short, Liberalism has screwed us all by supplying us with this huge supermarket of ideas and identities that we are free to pick and choose as we please. As Elim puts is, we're constantly told "you can be anything that you want to be" when what we really need is a society that tells us "now THIS is who you are". So much so that this dilutes the concept of "being yourself". How can you 'be yourself' when you're constantly shopping for new identities and concepts of the self?
Here's the show-down between myth and imgination: neither have any reference to empirical facts as we know it. Oh what are facts anyway? Facts aren't reality at all. Whatever. Myth and Imagination have no reference to reality anyway. But while Myth gives you a sense of who you are, your heritage and origins, Imagination tells you who you can be, it creates fiction that projects longing or fear, as opposed to myth, that embodies understanding and conciousness.
Liberalism devotes a rediculous level of energy focusing on the individual as opposed to the whole. This, basically creates "the other" on a level previously unmatched, it's me against the music baby, it's ultimate alienation that can only come from the obsessive self-absorbed analysis of the tiny pathetic non-self-defining entity of the individual as apart from the greater whole of community/humanity/whatever.
The cry for absolute individualism leads to the need for absolute egalitarianism. This is a self-defeating, contradictory, existential polemic we have here and it basically leaves us all floudering for some sense of sense and direction. Basically, we all explode into a million pieces because we pour the universe into vessels that are too small to contain - ourselves. At once, Liberalism calls us to be apart and alieanted yet integrated and connected to humanity and community. Way to go, Woodrow.
Don't get me wrong (although I'm totally asking for it. It's 2 in the AM and I've spent the day cleaning a shelter for Sex-trade workers), I'm not saying that the ideals and the goals of Liberalism and a form of political philosophy is the pits. I'm saying that the institutionalization of imagination into policy formation and action is quite the diaster. The formation of the USSR might well be a strange and accurate reflection of Democratization around the world. "If only...", spawned my the imgaination, is a powerful thing, uttered by both The Soviet and The Democrat. Both Socialism and Liberialism have beautiful escatalogcial desires, but the abandonment of true, historically congugated myth for escapist, dreamy imagination is really only man swimming from one solipsistic cage to another. We're all the same.
So here we throw religion into the picture, and it's loud (albeit unacknowledged) presense in recent/modern political though.... And we get me trying to fomulate my thesis for my IR theory paper.
____
So talk to me about that, Anyone, anything. Be plato, be hobbes, be locke.... But i really need to talk to God about this.
----
My big thing of late is the evils of individualism and democratization. In short, Liberalism has screwed us all by supplying us with this huge supermarket of ideas and identities that we are free to pick and choose as we please. As Elim puts is, we're constantly told "you can be anything that you want to be" when what we really need is a society that tells us "now THIS is who you are". So much so that this dilutes the concept of "being yourself". How can you 'be yourself' when you're constantly shopping for new identities and concepts of the self?
Here's the show-down between myth and imgination: neither have any reference to empirical facts as we know it. Oh what are facts anyway? Facts aren't reality at all. Whatever. Myth and Imagination have no reference to reality anyway. But while Myth gives you a sense of who you are, your heritage and origins, Imagination tells you who you can be, it creates fiction that projects longing or fear, as opposed to myth, that embodies understanding and conciousness.
Liberalism devotes a rediculous level of energy focusing on the individual as opposed to the whole. This, basically creates "the other" on a level previously unmatched, it's me against the music baby, it's ultimate alienation that can only come from the obsessive self-absorbed analysis of the tiny pathetic non-self-defining entity of the individual as apart from the greater whole of community/humanity/whatever.
The cry for absolute individualism leads to the need for absolute egalitarianism. This is a self-defeating, contradictory, existential polemic we have here and it basically leaves us all floudering for some sense of sense and direction. Basically, we all explode into a million pieces because we pour the universe into vessels that are too small to contain - ourselves. At once, Liberalism calls us to be apart and alieanted yet integrated and connected to humanity and community. Way to go, Woodrow.
Don't get me wrong (although I'm totally asking for it. It's 2 in the AM and I've spent the day cleaning a shelter for Sex-trade workers), I'm not saying that the ideals and the goals of Liberalism and a form of political philosophy is the pits. I'm saying that the institutionalization of imagination into policy formation and action is quite the diaster. The formation of the USSR might well be a strange and accurate reflection of Democratization around the world. "If only...", spawned my the imgaination, is a powerful thing, uttered by both The Soviet and The Democrat. Both Socialism and Liberialism have beautiful escatalogcial desires, but the abandonment of true, historically congugated myth for escapist, dreamy imagination is really only man swimming from one solipsistic cage to another. We're all the same.
So here we throw religion into the picture, and it's loud (albeit unacknowledged) presense in recent/modern political though.... And we get me trying to fomulate my thesis for my IR theory paper.
____
So talk to me about that, Anyone, anything. Be plato, be hobbes, be locke.... But i really need to talk to God about this.
Friday, October 28, 2005
Ok, so I spent my midnight blowing up watermelons and guac.
Look at that smile. I swear Andre is only complete with he's destroying something.
Something = Watermelon
Watermelon engulfing Andre
Watermelon, post Andre, in Tony's hands
I thought my childhood ended when I came to Canada.
Apparently it has just begun.
I love my roomies, esp the one behind the camera.
Look at that smile. I swear Andre is only complete with he's destroying something.
Something = Watermelon
Watermelon engulfing Andre
Watermelon, post Andre, in Tony's hands
I thought my childhood ended when I came to Canada.
Apparently it has just begun.
I love my roomies, esp the one behind the camera.
Monday, October 24, 2005
Chen Yi Ann Ian.
Ok. This baby boy MSNed me and demanded a blog post dedicated to him. And having been Iannized for 5 odd years, I think I can deal.
Straight off the back, I love him. I love him to bits and he lingers on my mind ever so often even though we are oceans apart. Whenever Tony and I talk of our youth ministries back 'home', Ian (and Shawn, and Adele and...) pops to mind.
I think above all, I worry for him. I know I shouldn't. I've grown with him and have seen him to be both strong and resilent and more capable of taking care of himself then most people. But I also know it's a painful contradiction to be so strong and stubborn and yet so vulnerable to a sense of belonging. So I worry, that Ian might do something stupid in his rashness only to regret later. But that's none of my business. I am only resolved to listen to him and council him and above all, to keep loving him despite anything.
I've known since he was 12. That is a pretty crucial age, I think. And I believe that it's taken it's effect. My fondest memory of Ian was experience here in Canada. We had fought in the Summer of 2004 which culmulated in me swearing on public transit and us ignoring each other for sometime. 6 months later, he pens a blog entry dealing with all that, and more. I cried. And these things don't make me cry easily. But he can.
I think he'll always be a brat to me. But I always stand amazed everytime I go back to singapore and see him acumulating hidden wisdom beyond his years. Usually shrouded by his pride and laxed nature. I hate being so far away from him, and every summer I go back to singapore with the fear and insecurity that I have been replaced in his life, or that I am somewhat irrelavent and unimportant. Oh I know life goes on and people fade in and out, but I am sentimental.
Anyway, whatever the case, I am glad to be a part of his life, espeically while he was growing. I am glad that he would call me with issues and questions. I am glad that we fought and that he's now asking if he can come here to study and play ice.
Two lives, here, there, in every sense of the word.
The Lord keep you and bless you, the Lord make his face shine upon you....
Nice try.
Ok. This baby boy MSNed me and demanded a blog post dedicated to him. And having been Iannized for 5 odd years, I think I can deal.
Straight off the back, I love him. I love him to bits and he lingers on my mind ever so often even though we are oceans apart. Whenever Tony and I talk of our youth ministries back 'home', Ian (and Shawn, and Adele and...) pops to mind.
I think above all, I worry for him. I know I shouldn't. I've grown with him and have seen him to be both strong and resilent and more capable of taking care of himself then most people. But I also know it's a painful contradiction to be so strong and stubborn and yet so vulnerable to a sense of belonging. So I worry, that Ian might do something stupid in his rashness only to regret later. But that's none of my business. I am only resolved to listen to him and council him and above all, to keep loving him despite anything.
I've known since he was 12. That is a pretty crucial age, I think. And I believe that it's taken it's effect. My fondest memory of Ian was experience here in Canada. We had fought in the Summer of 2004 which culmulated in me swearing on public transit and us ignoring each other for sometime. 6 months later, he pens a blog entry dealing with all that, and more. I cried. And these things don't make me cry easily. But he can.
I think he'll always be a brat to me. But I always stand amazed everytime I go back to singapore and see him acumulating hidden wisdom beyond his years. Usually shrouded by his pride and laxed nature. I hate being so far away from him, and every summer I go back to singapore with the fear and insecurity that I have been replaced in his life, or that I am somewhat irrelavent and unimportant. Oh I know life goes on and people fade in and out, but I am sentimental.
Anyway, whatever the case, I am glad to be a part of his life, espeically while he was growing. I am glad that he would call me with issues and questions. I am glad that we fought and that he's now asking if he can come here to study and play ice.
Two lives, here, there, in every sense of the word.
The Lord keep you and bless you, the Lord make his face shine upon you....
Nice try.
Sunday, October 23, 2005
I want to be able to blog in Chinese.
I have positively fallen in love with the language. It's lyricism, grace, purity and strength. It contains an entire culture, rich with historical imprints, a proud heritage and and clear identity. Ok so Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon has been totally hollywoodized, and it's clear that the western view of love between two Chinese People entails battling it out in the middle of the Mongolian desert over one's jade comb and intrinsic chinese pride. Sure, whatever.
My journey with the Chinese Language has been an interesting one. I went though my secondary school and JC years being the failure of the class. My one and only break-down due to stress occured over the GCE O level Chinese exams. My parents even recall me railing in anguish: "I am CANADIAN! I am NOT Chinese!"
I am currently, however, embarking on a plan to watch one chinese movie every weekend to improve my language ability. This would ultimately improve my grades in the 4 chinese classes that I am taking this year.
Yes.
You read me right.
4 Chinese (Zhong Wen) Classes.
And may I point out that they are not jock classes. I'm doing 300 level courses here at UBC. That's "Advanced Chinese" in the University of a Billion Chinese. No really, this is actually China, with a lot of white people.
So while I am totally prepared to lose my scholarship, and find 4 less then acceptable grades on my transcript, I am loving every moment of it. The people, the culture, the language. Enough to send me to the moon baby.
But all's not lost. I find that having grown and matured since I was 17 (when I took my last chinese test), I am able to approach the language with more grace and with the respect and awe that it friggin deserves. And beyond that, I can take challenges.
So it's looking good. Although my mid-term was a sheer disater, with the only tian2 xie3 han4 zhi4 that I have a chance at getting right is my name, I actually got 80% for my last essay. Guys do you have any idea what that means?? It either means that the TA has a crush on me, or that maybe this shi1 bai4 she3 isn't that much of a failure after all. hai ke yi ah.
And boy do I have fun doing my essays. Try writing about the effects of ethnocentric development schemes, the growth of capitalism in the west, post-modernism, post-struturalism and the 1994 Mexican economic crisis with the IMF. But it is on these issues tht I burn with passion.
My essays all come back with the same comments.
"Got good reasoning and logic. Language poor"
or something like that.
LOVE ME CHINA!
I have positively fallen in love with the language. It's lyricism, grace, purity and strength. It contains an entire culture, rich with historical imprints, a proud heritage and and clear identity. Ok so Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon has been totally hollywoodized, and it's clear that the western view of love between two Chinese People entails battling it out in the middle of the Mongolian desert over one's jade comb and intrinsic chinese pride. Sure, whatever.
My journey with the Chinese Language has been an interesting one. I went though my secondary school and JC years being the failure of the class. My one and only break-down due to stress occured over the GCE O level Chinese exams. My parents even recall me railing in anguish: "I am CANADIAN! I am NOT Chinese!"
I am currently, however, embarking on a plan to watch one chinese movie every weekend to improve my language ability. This would ultimately improve my grades in the 4 chinese classes that I am taking this year.
Yes.
You read me right.
4 Chinese (Zhong Wen) Classes.
And may I point out that they are not jock classes. I'm doing 300 level courses here at UBC. That's "Advanced Chinese" in the University of a Billion Chinese. No really, this is actually China, with a lot of white people.
So while I am totally prepared to lose my scholarship, and find 4 less then acceptable grades on my transcript, I am loving every moment of it. The people, the culture, the language. Enough to send me to the moon baby.
But all's not lost. I find that having grown and matured since I was 17 (when I took my last chinese test), I am able to approach the language with more grace and with the respect and awe that it friggin deserves. And beyond that, I can take challenges.
So it's looking good. Although my mid-term was a sheer disater, with the only tian2 xie3 han4 zhi4 that I have a chance at getting right is my name, I actually got 80% for my last essay. Guys do you have any idea what that means?? It either means that the TA has a crush on me, or that maybe this shi1 bai4 she3 isn't that much of a failure after all. hai ke yi ah.
And boy do I have fun doing my essays. Try writing about the effects of ethnocentric development schemes, the growth of capitalism in the west, post-modernism, post-struturalism and the 1994 Mexican economic crisis with the IMF. But it is on these issues tht I burn with passion.
My essays all come back with the same comments.
"Got good reasoning and logic. Language poor"
or something like that.
LOVE ME CHINA!
