Plastic Blog

2004-02-12T22:08:00.000-08:00

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2004-02-02T06:49:00.000-08:00

I am angry, I am sad, I am joyful, I am depressed.

I am busy, I am free, I am cold and I am tired. I am pleased and I am stressed.

I am doing this, but I will do that. And perhaps I shall do that too.
I am... Did I mention that I like this?

Let's be irrelevant. Let's be bitchy. Let's be self-absorbed and didactic.

I am a blog.

2003-11-24T11:38:00.000-08:00

Blah - my sister got dismissed from her last job and now she's found a new job with DOUBLE her previously obscene pay. I really really envy her sometimes, but I know she deserves it.

Exams are coming. I am dead. And I still love you, you big galoot you...

2003-10-27T06:42:00.000-08:00

Escape from Reality?

Why? Is Reality such a nasty place?

2003-10-16T20:08:00.000-07:00

Re: the two girls in front of me at the BIOL 200 midterm today.

Girl #1: You know, like like, like there are a billion, like, things to like, remember.
(yes, she actually said 'like' five times in one sentece)

Girl #2: Yeah, like, Biodiversity is so stupid. It's so boring. I'm never going to need this when I'm doing genetic analysis - I can just look it up in a book, right?

I can't believe I used to think like that. And throughout the entire exam I kept trying to sing "Boku wa samayou aoi dangaaaan". Thanks SO very much, Kuni. >_>;

The toilet got declogged today. It may be a small thing to you, but it's a huge issue to be living in a house where the only toilet doesn't work to me. How eventful!

I've decided that I'm only going for a Biology major. I can't take two consecutive years of four labs. It's so much easier when you have a bullshit course because I'm GOOD at bullshit. Philosophy or ethics, maybe anything commerce related. I'm hoping they let me do art.

So. Tired. (flops)

2003-10-12T15:36:00.000-07:00

Hell week has come and gone and it's been two days, yet I still haven't fully recovered. My sleep schedule has been shot to itty bits and my nerves aren't much better since my body refuses to cooperate with the rest of me. Whatever happened to all that energy I used to have? Boku wa ojisan ni naratte kamoshiremasen - and that's another thing, I'm lapsing into Japanese wayy too often for my own comfort. Sometimes I worry I've got sleeping sickness or something because I feel physically and emotionally drained.

My housemates aren't as bad as I make them out to be - really, they just have a habit of waking me up at weird times with their incessant laughter, but at least when they have a party, the girls usually are nice enough to clean up the sink once they're done with the place.

I promised to finish up on that webcomic bloggage so... I was reading something positive last night when it dawned on me exactly how repetetive and boring the plot really was. FYI, something positive isn't half bad at all. But it gets repetitive and boring when you realize how much of the thing is same old same old.

I think the trick to enjoying any webcomic is to read the first year and then take an extended break rather than to blast through the archives in one night. But I've certainly learnt a few things to avoid - I'm steadily growing more fond of the idea of three dimensional characters with less of a linear streak. Randomnity and visual gags get tedious and annoying at times. Basing a character around one joke can work, but it does get stale very quickly. Perhaps I'm too jaded?

I once said that people don't change, they merely die. It's not too hard of a concept to understand - over the courses of three months, I'd imagine nearly every cell in your body gets replaced (excepting bone and brain mass, natch). We're mostly copies of ourselves. The more I learn about cell genetics, the more I'm worried about becoming my parents. I think I'd love to have more freedom than that. But sometimes I have my reassurance that neither of my parents values blatancy as much as I do.

It's ironic, really. Thinking back on experience, many people I've met do resemble their parents in more ways than they'd be happy to admit to. Yet these selfsame people usually have the biggest problems with their parents. Nobody remembers Eugene C. any more. (granted - not that they'd want to). It must be frightening to constantly have the shadow of abusive parents hanging over your shoulder. So much easier to victimize yourself, so much easier to make the same mistakes you accuse them of. Burying the hatchet and loving my parents for who they were was the single most destressing experience of my life.

Emotions are my eternal enemy. They make me think, do and say things - and inflate things - so out of proportion. They make me act like a complete idiot in front of people. They put other people on guard. For some people, talking to me is playing mental daggers, wondering if what I just said was a verbal sleight or not. Other people don't wonder, they know.

Here's a tip: I don't make personal comments or judgments unless I hate your guts. But that doesn't mean I'm afraid to speculate. I will ask uncomfortable questions. I will make ironic remarks that smack of sarcasm. This is not a test. This does not mean I hate you. This is not some ridiculous psychological "hurting you to make you strong" thing. This is a cue to use your brain instead of your heart. This is my mind. My way of talking without any strings attached, out of context and without any consequences (thank you, Suzanne Vega). It's a manifestation of thought - or getting as close to thought as words could possibly get. And if I had to explain this to you, it probably lost all meaning in understanding it for yourself.

To be frank, I really have only been called on to explain it once before. At that time, I got it completely wrong at that time because I was just as confused about that aspect of myself as you are now. And there are people who have understood this from the beginning, long before I even knew it was there. I've never had to explain it to them, maybe because they hail from similiar worlds of thought.

If you can't understand this, you really shouldn't talk to me. I'll end up hurting your feelings again. (You know who you are >__>;)

I don't think emotions come from the heart - the heart is a muscle. I wonder where they actually do.

2003-10-01T23:03:00.000-07:00

Ehehehe! You know, I've long propounded this hypothesis that being tired and being on drugs are like the same thing because you tend to do stupid things with no remorse whatsoever. For a long time I was putting myself through some pretty silly emotional crap, because I have this bad neurotic habit of blaming myself for being a jerk when things go wrong. (yes, this is a notsoobscurereferencetoflorida, the dar equivalent of the smelly thing udner the carpet you hope will go away and the difference is that one day it actually up and DOES. XD)

But sometimes, it has the oppposite effect and you wake up and everything is so LUCID. Crystal clear.

I may or may not be a jerk. The jerk is in your mind.

This is mainly because I speak my mind. All of it. I have these little reservations that people should keep to themselves and you don't mention because you know, youre supposed to gloss over these in the best interests of being happy-happy friends-friends. But for some weird reason, sometimes my values get tangled up and I put truth up there as part of respect and stick it with "friendship".

If you're a complete stranger, I keep these thoughts to myself. If I DO know you, chances are that sometimes I'll tease you about it or tell you because I think that trust is a cornerstone of respect and I figure that you're as emotionally detached as I am about these things. (dude, I can be so wrong about this sometimes)

Hmmn... I can count off on my hand the number of people who are emotionally calm enough to take this 'verbal daggers' thing.

-YQ, mainly because he thinks more than feels about anything and forgives me for being a judgmental twit. And he pokes right back. Ow.
-Jason, who gets special mention because he's really very tolerant of my incessant jibes since he knows I don't really mean any harm and I can't resist a bad joke. Dude, for all your judgmental impulsive nature, I still wish that all Catholics were like you. XP
-Kuni, because she's able to resolve things with me, works with herself and me to understand things and won't refuse to listen.
-WL, although she tends to fail sometimes mainly because she thinks I'm half kidding half the time when the truth is that I say what's on my mind (esp. the icky bits) all the time. XD

Kay. Maybe I'm a bit cynical about other people, but I'd need a lobotomy before I could avoid being critical of everything. Maybe they don't and they're able to function as genuinely nice beings which never have a "dark" or reserved thought. I don't really envy you, but I suppose that could be nice for a change.

So, aye I'm a terrible person to have at dinner parties or to be around generally if you mind the chance of hearing people comment on that portion of your life that's always unsaid. And although sometimes I can catch myself in time, sometimes I'll fall.

So. I don't mind being a 'jerk' and speaking my mind. It HAS cost me a lot. But I won't stop just because I want friends. That's too bloody shallow and I won't stand for it. And I'm sorry if I hurt you this way, but I'm not sorry nor guilty for making those comments.

But I HAVE learnt this one lesson. These comments? They're private. Respect that.

Saying them in the company of others may lead to embarassment. And so often did I not realize this that I went off on huge misguided tiriades on other ljs (or even on my blog. Like I'm gonna used that 'it's my blog, I'll say what I want' copout excuse? SNORT), forgetting that the world was watching and that people care about this. I shouldn't have, and I'm at least sorry for that. (censors a private part of this post)

And that - is respect.

2003-09-29T01:42:00.000-07:00

Grah - I was going to continue the review with a slew of silly webcomics, but the homework workload has just hit me like a ton of heavy building objects. I'm gonna be annoyed for at least the next two weeks.

Just a short rant: There's a term for idiotic pubescents that think the sole purpose of life is to have a larger penis than everyone else. It's called self-agglandization. Frankly, I don't mind it as long as they don't thrust their penises into my face. Ambition is a good thing, but sometimes, I find that what everyone has been saying about America is true - it IS populated with intolerant idiots after all. I'm sorry, Kuni.

Like that idiot that thinks that I'm Chinese and Chinese people violate civil rights, so I have no right to speak on any matters of human rights whatsoever. Forums are a breeding ground for ridiculousness, yes SS, you should just ask that idiotic American person why he isn't drinking tea and going "pip pip, old chap".

At the same time, America DOES produce gems, but... I would like to stress that sometimes, I think that eugenics has a point. People should be made to take a test to prove that they can raise a child before they're allowed to have one. Many feminists label the dick as a weapon and they're right - Every weapon needs a license, or the man should be swiftly disarmed.

2003-09-19T14:19:00.000-07:00

Saturnalia (saturnalia.keenspace.com)

An amusingly named webcomic by one Space Coyote, (or the Ninny, as I like to call her). Bearing in mind that this is a review and I must maintain an air of objectivity, I will refrain from further cheap shots.

Saturnalia is a sci-fi webcomic that occurs in a futuristic locale where for some reason unbeknownst to mankind, someone is beating Philip K. Dick to death for the sixth thousandth time since scientific ethics came into vogue. The main character an amusingly two-dimensional policeman named Sysreq, first in a gratuitously named cast of dozens in a tradition that would do Satoru Akahori (Bakuretsu Hunters) and Akira Toriyama (Dragonball Z) proud.

Due to circumstances, Sysreq is thrust into the midst of a secret organization that takes action against another organization with too much free time on their hands. His mission: To stop hate crimes against mechanical entities. For this, he is given an amusing sidekick partner called Ellipsis (a.k.a. token Mary Sue) which specializes in 1) being useless and 2) getting into trouble. Sound familiar yet?

Space Coyote shows a natural ability for panel sequencing and is unafraid to borrow heavily concepts from other more established mangas, such as GTO. Her art, although initially impressive, has shown a rather disturbing trend to do the nonconformist jig and actually regress in quality as time goes by. While sporting sequences of awe-inspiring backgrounds in the first chapter, the comic quickly deteriorates into a series of watermarked photographic backgrounds - which fail to exist entirely in the most recent pages. Although her art is of superior quality, her fanbase seems to readily supply comments such as "Wow! - your art is almost as good as MegaTokyo". This supports either two conclusions: Her fanbase has the artistic awareness of a paramecium or that somewhere, there is a great preference for heads drawn in three seconds with the aid of a quarter.

Plotwise, the concept may not be entirely original, but it shows promise. Due to the burgeoning cast of characters with token appearances and introductory segues, the first four chapters shows little actual content in terms of a plot. We have learnt about the existence of a monolithic evil organization, and hence it leads one to assume that the comic will run on the ancient premise of right versus wrong, which indicates the plot content of a Saturday Morning cartoon. (Although admittedly with a copious amount of gratuitous overshadowing)

A few major flaws:
-A burden of retarded deus-ex technical acronymic canon. This can be done well, a. la. unicorn jelly, but here it mainly seems to serve the function of ad hoc imagery.
-Lack of character depth. Every single character seems to suffer from hopeless two-dimensionality, except for Ellipsis, which seems to have no personality to speak of.
-An abundance of dramatic author irony. A good sign is when more than three main characters seem to suffer from DADAS (Dark and dangerous amnesia syndrome - about as appealing as the 1916's movement). Easily confused with 'character depth'.

Rating:
Art: Superior. There is talent here, even if that talent is rarely employed to good effect anymore.

Plot: Moderately Pretentious. Nothing that will really keep you begging for more (She generally relies on Art for this), but not overwrought and melodramatic nor nonexistent.

Fanbase: Ranging from the obsessive to the intolerable. Already contains at least three people that insist in beating artistic symbolism to death. Strangely appropriate as she is faintly reminiscent of Wagner.

The Good: Is genuinely pleasant to read at times.

The Bad: Superior art, but depressingly mediocre plot and actual content. The webcomic equivalent of brine shrimp.

The Ugly: The author. Determined to blaze a trail through psychological case-study history.

2003-09-19T02:49:00.000-07:00

And now, to practice being heinously subjective, I'm going to review webcomics for a week.

Boy meets boy (boymeetsboy.keenspace.com)

Boy meets boy is a webcomic by one crazed yaoi fangirl who goes by the amusing name of Sandra Delete. For those of you still living under a rock, yaoi is a term popularly used to categorize fictitious male comic characters in a homosexual relationship.

This webcomic takes after a newspaper cartoon strip format, in which vignettes are presented with daily montages. Due to the attention span of its readers, at least one half-hearted attempt at humour is de riguer (A sharp contrast to the inane and unfollowable segues of newspaper action comics).

Unfortunately, this same practice is precisely what drove Jim Davis into the reprehensible marketing monster (tm) that he is today. When unable to find anything remotely humourous, she resorts to the criminally inane.

After reading about twenty or so of the strips, you are let into the TERRIBLE SECRET!!!111 of the webcomic: It is nothing more than an ad hoc masturbatory indulgence. This is already hinted by the title: correctly, it should be Adolescent meets Man.

A mere dive into the forums will make one realize that the most popular topic seems to be "pairing off" of all the male characters. Outbursts of "so and so look cute together" are not uncommon, a clear warning sign from above - Abandon ye logic, all who enter. This is made even more frightening by the following point:

From an artistic perspective, this woman has been drawing for more than two years. That's a lot of time. Yet - she has shown the same improvement that David Gonterman has. The tragically inept persons responsible for MegaTokyo have improved more than this woman has. Particularly loathesome are her attempts to colour, in which we learn that despite all visual evidence to the contrary, Hispanics resemble overdone toast. This suggests that she either takes the trashy-romance-novel expression "Dark chocolate" too seriously or she thinks that hispanics come from Africa. All those aggravating third world countries, y'know?

I am unable to even begin taking this comic in a serious context because of it's blatant left-wing ludicrousity.

For the very last time (and this really shouldn't have to be said), Political Correctness is a JOKE.
Nevertheless, she tries to represents minorities (names and skintones lovingly researched) in such painful efforts that the cast seems overbearingly composed out of token characters.

Let's pretend you were a waiter at some international cannibal diner and for some reason, somebody ordered a side of Boy meets boy. Here runs your order:

Three African-American people, one married couple, one female.
One part hairy translocated Russian Eurotrash.
One part American Jew.
One part unspecified red haired (probably Irish) white person.
One allegedly asexual indian aryan that looks suspiciously like white trash in disguise.
One part American that takes martial arts courses (presumably the Asian-stand-in)
An extended Catholic Hispanic family. (weren't stereotypes bad?)
White trash to taste.

Bravo, woman. There is a noticeable lack of an Asian presence, but I for one certainly amn't complaining. This is reminiscent of recent trends in music and the arts in which people get so overwhelmed in promoting some cause that they forget the fundamentals (i.e. to use talent instead of repeating your message ad nauseum until everyone sensible loses interest).

Perhaps the author wants to reflect the fangirlish sentiment that homosexual male relationships reside in "happy-happy land". In her land, the daughter of Satan is a pale fascimile, nobody ever dies and the worst thing that can happen is a broken heart. Ill intent exists only in the most jejune and ineffectual of forms. At best, it is a heartwarming reflection on how one can cope with Asperger's syndrome.

Ratings:
Art: Terrible and Decadent. Saved from an cornucopia of negative adjectival invective only by the fact that David Gonterman is alas, alive. The hand-lettering is hard to read and no effort is shown on the author's behalf to improve.

Plot: Content equivalent to that of an episode of Buffy, the Vampire Slayer. Take that as a compliment if you will.

Fanbase: Moderately scary Pod People. Mainly fangirls in a need of a quick self-indulgent fix and knee-jerk liberals that turn off their judgment and good taste for anything bearing a pink triangle.

The Good: Despite all it's flaws, will still send conservatives into a fit. Mainly because republicans have nothing better to do with their time than blame things for moral degradation.

The Bad: Reinforces the cynical belief that fangirls really DO think with their ovaries.

The Ugly: Has all the humour of Garfield or Get Fuzzy with none of the art or charm.

2003-09-15T12:32:00.000-07:00

There's something about the Tim Horton's iced cappucino that falls a bit short of Starbucks as far as sugar content goes, but makes up for it with the taste of slightly burnt coffee beans. It's also arguably cheaper and more of a texture experience than the homogeneity I find in a frappie bottle, so since I can't get Caramel on this side of the border, it makes for a pleasing substitute.

(In other gustatory news, I've found these disgusting chocolate covered marshmallow cookies called Viva puffs that are a perfect oreo substitute and don't require extensive brushing of teeth after the initial sugar buzz.)

And since I am Dar and Dar is known for Darness, here's a thought or three:

- When people say that everthing political affects you, just how much of that is extraneous bullshit?
- Does anyone actually ENJOY the fizz in Cola or is it just a way of misrepresenting actual liquid content? I find it annoyingly painful and actually only enjoy Coke if it's flat.
- Why is it that christians think they have the wholesale say on marriage? It isn't a christian-exclusive concept.

Personally, I think that contrary to popular belief, marriage should be a taxed and sordid affair and not a heavily subsidized state. This would help generate income for the government, demonstrate committment of the two partners, decrease the birth rate and
probably improve our gene pool. And this is exactly what Singapore did with it's one child policy, which makes me wake up in cold sweat thinking that I'm turning into a PAP member.

On the minus side, it'd give priests waaaay too much free time on their hands. Bad!

[rambling thought]A religion is a state of belief. It doesn't require you to believe in a deity, a person or a book, it can be a concept, an ideal or a state of affairs. Whether you're a Sai Babaian who believe in divinity bestowed by a bad afro and the ability to manifest forms and carbon and rolex watches or you're an atheist that believes that there is no god GRRR, you're religious. As a result I'm starting to see faith as a quantum state of predictability. Skew it to one side and you're happy and skew it to another and you're screwed.[/ramble]

And now, une petit advertisement: YQ has an artistic movement that I'm spreading the word of, despite not being a member. The movement is called Triangulation, and the basic tenets are to provide the imagery and metaphor without providing any actual substance. A virtual empty calorie, if you would. Much of the poetry sounds like haiku except that haiku is too standardized and format based to fit into the the tenets (probably requires an extensive dieting regime).

I've proposed that the ultimate manifestation of Triangulation is the debate in which the proposition and opposition are capable of waffling on for hours and hours on end and still manage to give absolutely no useful insight or relevant information on the topic at hand. I forsee huge employment possibilities for the Triangulist, such as a healthy career in politics or advertising.

There are no requirements to being an Triangulist other than a healthy contempt for linear processes and an overactive sense of imagination. I'm guessing the in-joke is that it's virtually impossible for the meme to spread effectively.

Anyway - it's off to class again, lest I start that unhealthy rant on WHY American people persist in saying "(But) Anyways" or "Some other ways" or "(There is) No ways" when 1) It sounds absolutely dreadful and 2)ways is obviously a PLURAL and the prefix "any", "some" or "no" isolates PARTICULAR instances which are each singular, you certainly don't say "Nobodys came to my party" without being facetiously rude and when oh god when I will ever be able to play an RPG on the American English voiceset without extensive cringing?

Too late.

[edit: Okay, admittedly, I know about the confusion over the meaning of the word "Anywise", so I'm far more forgiving when people use the word "Anyways". But that DOES NOT excuse that *swears* Russ-Troll chaos from going "We still have a long ways(sic) to go" every time I complete a battle with the bastard in my party and ensures he remains permanently on the side benches. You'd expect some super-knowitall insidious alien life form that pretends to speak English to at the VERY LEAST have a good grasp of how it works. Geesh. Talk about discongruity. Damn you , Xenosaga.)

2003-09-01T19:45:00.000-07:00

So I've gone on this crazy euro bent and finally relearned how to para para to "night of fire".
Which means now I wanna go out to some noisy place and poke somebody's eye out with a flailing hand. But it seems that every time I pass Stages on the way to A&P, all they seem to be playing is rap rap and more rap. Damn you teenage Canucks!

Parapara is araparap backwards. That's about as significant as the god/dog thing and people that think pointing it out makes them look smart so I'd better shut my clam riiiight now.

Went all over Kingston looking for a store that sold Disgaea today. Of course, being labour day, the future shop and Zeller's are still open, but HMV and Electronics Boutique are CLOSE. WTF? Don't they have a monopoly on geeky teens with too much time? (note to self: visiting the future shop for PS2 games is bound to result in prolonged bouts of irony)

On another topic, I met an overaffectionate bee. I shut it in a "raspberry flavoured sparkling water" bottle and left it on the top of a garbage can as a pleasant surprise for the garbageman.

Kev and co. are being absolute antisocial BRATS. I mean: if he's not working, he's sleeping or coming up with some excuse for why lunch or dinner is not a possiblity. Which is a shitty excuse a granny with cataracts in both eyes could see through - but I forget that he has "problems". Feh. And Heather has never exactly been a sparkling socialite. Which leaves me to get my daily social quota from AIM. Yay AIM!

Oh, one of my roommates, the Daniel, has these frightening hugeass pillbox cartons all over the house. They look like paint mix and are all labelled "whey protein blah blah BUILDMASTER *insert number here*" According to the nutritional information, 45g of the stuff contains 37 grammes of protein, "strawberry flavoured". He runs through two of them a week - And I was WONDERING why all my toilet paper disappeared! God, I buy a 12 pack and it barely lasts one month? At least the 'ol bowl is reasonably clean. (sigh) Is he bulimic?

Well, at least he treats his body well. Mine is still on strike for the hot pocket and dehydration diet. But at least that way I won't attract five different girlfriends that all share the same disturbing habit of screaming during sex at three a.m. in the morning almost as loud as he moans. Amen for earphones, I say.

I think I'll go down and watch the double cohort tomorrow.

2003-08-28T17:04:00.000-07:00

More offensive thoughts on Grayling:

I've noticed this distressing trend for BmB followers.

=

And if you doubt that, here's the horse version of john wayne bobbit (look on the left):

Oh... these fangirls.

2003-08-25T23:26:00.000-07:00

The Sims is a terrible analogue of human life. This is mainly because humans move by force of habit.

I'm tired of blaming other people for my lack of a life. Frankly, I don't know why I'm afraid to be myself. The condition is dyspraxia and I hear people sit around and bitch about their lives for enough time as to have the alarming thought: how much of your life is lived in retrospect? Is it better the second time around?

And as I type, there's a horrible mutated squirrel with a bulging cankerous vesicle around the eye region that peers into my room whenever I have cheese in the open. If nature truly works, I hope that this winter sees the blighter dead. Perhaps the body fluids in the vesicle will freeze solid and burst open, rupturing the brain. And to this, I say: good.

It's been twenty-one days since I last touched a human being. (do I count?)

If eros can be defined as "immoral love" by most major religions, wouldn't it follow that the most eternal and pure love would be only attainable towards people which weren't from your gender preference?

From that argument - what would it be like if all straight men married other men and all gay men married women? (and vice-versa for women, natch) Wouldn't this be the ultimate form of hormoneless purity? Taking marriage as a statement that one is willing to care for the other for the rest of his or her life through better or worse or till death do they part. Sex never was part of the equation.

Theoretically then - shouldn't it be logical for best friends to marry?

Perhaps not. Best friends don't need legally binding contracts. Part of the reason we feel so comfortable with them is because we know that we accept them as is and that we are free to leave anytime we choose to do so - yet we WANT their company because of an acceptance of who they are, flaws and all, without trying to change them.

So marriage is a test - a proof of one's committment towards a joint venture. It's sad that it's become a standard, really. Whatever happened to proving yourself in a day-by-day basis?

2003-08-12T20:14:00.000-07:00

Rettsu Romansu!

"If a guy acted all romantic and stuff in this day and age, girls would fall for him immediately" - friend of mine.

Here's some Dar thought from the heart and mind into the romance scene from an outsider's viewpoint then - so you can tender to your burnin' Rabu-rabu!

Things that don't work.

Library/bookstore: BZZT. Despite what people think this is utterly unromantic. Book areas are staffed with geeky adolescents, housewives in the erotica/romance section and disgruntled old biddies. It's a fantastic place to go with friends, but hardly the sort of thing you want if you're gonna sweep a partner off it's feet. Unless you find the Dewey decimal system interesting, in which case you should be dating a card catalogue. And since there's a "SILENCE" sign all over the place in libraries, you must be an exhibitionist to enjoy becoming a public spectacle for your ministrations.

Grassy Field: One word: Bugs. Bugs are not romantic. And there's nothing really very much to do - so you'd better have a picnic (bug magnet) or a nice long pointless conversation handy. If you must, go during winter, when all the bugs are gone. Provided you don't freeze solid first.

Restaurant: Overrated. It's hard to be romantic with a formula unless you know exactly how to act and you really don't mind the bill later. Money discussions are always a surefire turnoff and candlelit dinners are rarely cheap. Always be prepared to foot the bill completely. Buffet tables are great for entertaining friends though. If you want to impress with the formula, use the OLD one. Do the candlelit dinner and five star restaurant with complete style. Read up on etiquette, GROOM yourself, bring a flower and make sure she likes being pampered and isn't a female power activist.

Movie: VERY overrated. Chances are you won't be able to talk about it in the cinema without being a complete jerk and a high probability that you're surrounded by creeps with annoying little kids. If the movie is good, your date isn't important as much as what happens on that screen. Go rent a DVD instead if you must. At least you can have fun during the playback. (Note, if your date doesn't want to talk during the movie, she's more interested in screwing the cute actors/escaping to a fantasy world than she is in you. Joke's on you.)

Nightclub: It's so loud that you can't have a decent conversation or even think, people just drink and drink and you have a high chance of getting laid later. How is this romantic?

House: Depends what's in it. It's your own territory, and that's likely to make you more apathetic than romantic. Minus fifty points if you live with your parents. Lying around and doing nothing much isn't romance. That's something friends do.

Things that WOULD work:

Spontaneity: Do things that you wouldn't do normally because of inhibitions. Breaking inner barriers is good - go dancing in a fountain, for example, just because you feel like it. Make decisions on the spot because most people today are very bad at making up their minds on their own. Even if it's silly, act with full confidence and nothing will go wrong. (if the partner feels embarassed, you've got to do it from the heart)

Make that person feel how you feel about him or her: i.e. important. There are a billion and one ways to show this, and it's far more simple than chocolates and flowers (yugh).

Talk back and think before you open your mouth. Listen. There is nothing quite as romantic as someone who wants to understand and speaks frankly - it takes two people to make a conversation.

Seriously though, the place isn't that important, but it's always better to have a sense of adventure as you explore your feelings with a significant other. And if they don't understand the above, they probably aren't worth your time. Watch out for people who don't like you as much as what they think they can make you into.

The best place to take someone? A place that is familiar and important to you - one of memories, or one of dreams. Explain to him or her why. Get them to do the same, if possible. And if you don't understand the logic behind this, you're probably not interested in romance.

********

*grin* All that and I suppose it's like that comment about a eunuch giving sex tips. Maybe I'll find somebody one day who will transcend the purity of friendship (unlikely) and I can test this. And now it's time to stop thinking like a fluff-headed girl. Time for your take on it, Kuni-kun.

2003-08-10T10:05:00.000-07:00

About elves: If I wanted to be a fascist, I certainly wouldn't need pointy ears to accomplish this.

... I'm having severe regrets about the catboy.

2003-07-25T11:06:00.000-07:00

If I could erase all identity, I would.

I love it when nobody's awake in the house and I am no longer a person so much as an occurrence in time.
I can be as silly as I want and as selfish as I want, I don't have to explain myself. See: nobody would get the secret.

And what I want now is this perfect moment to last for the rest of eternity. And it already has.

I'd love to go through life as a vague smile that you saw once while waiting for a bus.
(But was I smiling at you or laughing at you? That's your concern, not mine.)

I don't need to be understood because I already understand.
I don't need to explain myself because I already know.
I don't need company because I'm already with you.

I wonder if god feels like this.

2003-07-24T22:07:00.000-07:00

your brain brings you troubles, your brain gives you woes
but i hate it when it tries to flow out your nose
or your eyes, mayhaps better, as many shed tears
and at least it won't try to escape out your ears

and this fever i have it is horribly hot
and the medicine is icky, take it i will not
so i sit in this chair and i yell at my brother
and i wheedle out icecream from my lovely mother

all things considered this terrible reticence
and my childish temper when in convalescence
i make for horrible company when i am sick
so no wonder you're away - you're not all that thick

...i'm gonna sit here and sulk until you come online.

2003-07-11T12:09:00.000-07:00

Ooh ooh... this is too delicious not to share.

"We definitely have some intelligence issues, and I don't agree that this is much ado about nothing," Rep. Adam Smith, D-Wash., told Fox News.

Gotta love out of context quotes.

2003-07-11T11:57:00.000-07:00

Ever since I returned to Singapore, I'd like to say that I've been so busy that I'd had no time to do anything, but in reality, my schedule involves horrible amounts of sleep during the late afternoon and trying to beat Spider Solitaire on four suits (current score: Dar:1, Computer of doom: 527).

And without further ado, I'd like to say that America is SO much easier to ignore when you're two thousand kilometres away. I apologize for my perpetual absence on AIM, which will probably stay that way until I get back to Canada.

And on another rambling note, I'll currently sacrifice my integrity and a small child for Pop n' Music 8.

I have to worry about who I am, because it's rather self-evident from observation that I have several pernicious flaws.

Firstly, I happen to be a 22 year old male who thinks that a repetitive and childish game is more fun than sports, fast cars or sex. It's easy for people to patronize me on this, because I AM extremely jejune in behaviour. I'd like to pretend that I'm all self-confident and shit, but that's mostly reserved for times when I am annoyed or freaking mad. As a result, I generally can't stand talking to people and yet, I love talking to people.

See - it's generally easier because you can have the personality of George Bush if you have a vagina and yet horny males will still want to talk to you if it involves any chance of you taking notice of them. So nowadays, if due to stress I find the need to stand in in the middle of my mind all pink and shout "I FEEL THE LURVE", it involves all of two people I actually know (YQ and Jason), Kuni (more or less gratis because 'tis more on her behalf), and my parents, which is an infinitesmally scorned thing by most people leery of Oedipal influences. (But hey, better with than without, hmmn?)

Secondly, I assume too much. I jump to conclusions that are inevitably wrong and seem to think that if things aren't as I THINK they are, then it's all YOUR fault and it serves you right. This is not acceptable behaviour outside of the Christian church.

Thirdly, I'm goddamn boring. Oh, just another laid-back 22-year-old malathrope with fashions in his mind to lead him to think he can actually draw or that something constructive will come out of this. Ho hum - pass the ketchup. Hell, if I have anything to be proud off, it's never something of my own doing. If I look at myself frankly and say "What have I achieved?", I sincerely doubt that anyone on earth would be even in the slightest bit impressed by "Oh, I can insult people in public for the slightest of trespasses (thank you, three yuppie bitches blocking the parking lot) and I can pass EX Misty on difficulty level 2".

And I'm okay with that for the most part, but I suppose I should try to be so much more.

- I can't drive.
- I cannae cook very well.
- I can't cheer people up when they need it the most, nor make other people feel better about themselves.
- I can't seem to make ANYONE feel priviledged and special.
- I can't trust myself to keep a simple promise.

All things to work on , I suppose. And nobody ever said that being somebody was easy. Fact is that I barely rank above "Emergency Meat Ration" in terms of actual human worth.

So I kick my body and say "Hey, look at that list above there, things you need to spearhead."

And my body says "Give me a reason."

And you know, I really can't. Sometimes "I want to" just isn't enough.

2003-06-27T07:09:00.000-07:00

Okay, I've noticed that most blog posts tend to ramble on and on with stupid details that waste your precious time, so if you aren't really obliged to care - here's the gist of the post below:

#1) Grandfather = history.
#2) Wasted lots of time in Malaysia and now I want attention.
#3) If #1, then Sister's dog = current events.

Ignore the fact that current events don't normally piss on newspapers in senscent fits.

Okay. Chinese funerals are boring, and never EVER try to attend one held by a taoist priest unless you want to spend more time with your foreheadto the unsanitary unhygienic GROUND than strictly necessary. Damn kowtowing. We had a nice big bonfire and my grandmother thinks my grandfather came back as a cricket, which doesn't speak too well about her mental state.

According to my mother, I missed ninety percent of the actual getting bored and nosing the ground while listening to an annoying fat bum in a taoist robe sing hokkien prayers and generally making an awful din, so I should be grateful. My sister was easy to distinguish in the photographs becuase she was the only one wearing shiseido makeup and enough eyeshadow to cover my father's bald spot.

Malaysia is still full of flies and annoying people with slow arses. Don't believe the travel agents unless you think diptheria is fun, in which case you have far greater concerns than where to go to in your free time.

Been busy rushing here and there and catching up with friends, games and naughty Naruto doujinshi. Interestingly, a two kilometre queue at Creative has finally made Jason open to the idea of widespread genocide as a solution for world problems. Not surprisingly, as we've caused most of them ourselves.

Then again, it could be argued that that's simply because problems are a wholly human concept, and without humans around, there wouldn't be anyone to fashion them into existence. Yes yes yes, but think about it, how many problems do you read about in the news that aren't somehow linked to human factors? Blah. I can think of.... natural disasters and asteroids hitting earth, which isn't so much a problem as far as the earth is concerned anyway, seeing as the last one didn't wipe out ALL the hairy mammals.

And... then that'd only be problematic for life - see it's very hard to define a problem unless the universe actually does have some greater motive at hand. Bah.

And now I've digressed so much I don't know where to start getting back on topic that I'll just go off and reindulge in my rpg-produced spates of hiragana reinterpretation.

Ciao.

2003-06-11T15:16:00.000-07:00

Grandpa's dying. I wish I could call him before he goes... but that may not be possible.

Good luck, Grandpa. You've never been mean to me, and you loved me a lot, perhaps more than I loved you back. I'm sorry about that. I love you. And I'll remember you.

Rest in peace... you've earned it.

2003-05-14T20:41:00.000-07:00

Frankly... do I have a large vocabulary? I've been called a dictionary and a freaking thesaurus user (what an insult!)... and it's not doing me much good.

I think there's a problem with having a large vocabulary. I lose all ability to communicate effectively.

And yet... I don't think I use grandiose words very often. I really... don't think so. I like to call a spade a spade. A weltanschauung is a weltanschauung.
Auby has that problem too... ostracized for an interest in the English language... such is the nature of people today. If you don't have something someone else has, you hurl mud at it.
And of course step #3 in logic is that I am not to blame and the entire world is. Bravo on that logic, Dar.

I think I'm going to lock myself in my room and stay here till September. I have to rebuild my faith in us puny little humans.

But no - gonna watch the Matrix sequel with Kev and Heather soon. Remind me to bring the camera, Kuni.

2003-05-14T00:24:00.000-07:00

Blogger easts stinkbiscuits with HTTP too long errors. Check the Livejournal from now on. Link is in the comments below.

(edit: No, no I don't know, but I won't play your hide and seek game. Ante up. n_n )

2003-05-08T14:17:00.000-07:00

Not dead yet! Hah! I think sometimes I should take voluntary internet sabbaticals, because I'm becoming most horribly reliant on the internet and frankly: it's making me a huge antisocial baby.

Been trying to rediscover why I love science - there's just so much to find out. I'm seriously reconsidering what I'm doing with this time. Consider that any moment now, our entire human populace could be wiped out by a stray asteroid. Somehow - there just isn't enough time to do all the things I want. I've been doodling a bit the past few days and I'm now convinced my art will never amount to anything more than terribly mediocre, not to mention it gives me stupid vibes.

... yeah. I'm hanging up the paintbrush for some time. I'm not willing to make a living out of it anyhow, and somehow, I've lost all motivation for doing art. It's not a sudden thing - my interest has been decaying for the last three months or so and perhaps it's time to move on. Auby's been very encouraging - I know I have at least latent talent in writing, far more than I do with my art (Although it may not be evident from this terrible mental diarrhoea troublemaker of a blog I still persist in upkeeping, albeit sporadically.). Yes, I do love a challenge, but doing art these days leaves me more stressed and wondering where the last three hours just flew to - it's also had a visible impact on my schoolwork (in a period of slow decay).

*shrugs* maybe it'll pass in a week or so. Could be a day, could be a year... (although I do admit I have a distressing tendency to bounce back from blah mood swings with bloodthirsty vengeance in mind - though it's not being forthcoming as of this moment.), kind of like the way any day now, Yellowstone National Park could blow up and bury the entire United States in ash.

Meanwhile, I'll be having fun assembling furniture in Kingston and chomping popcorn with G&H (courtesy of movie offer box-top cereal). Drop by someday - we'll have such fun.

And bring Drano .The bathtub's clogged.

-This broadcast brought to you courtesy of Cogeco. Ginger gives them glowing performance reviews, though I think that's because they're on fire. Rather a hard thing not to notice, wouldn't you say?

2003-04-28T08:20:00.000-07:00

Got a new hobby - collecting those people/maple leaf shaped millenium canadian quarters.

When I get enough of them, I'm gonna glue all of them together with acrylic and make a fricking metal deathweapon out of quarters (with a few toonies on the top for balance). Then I'm gonna see how many squirrels I can bean in the Kingston public park. If I get enough, maybe I can knock the damned blighters out of their nests.

Interestingly, I have yet to see a beaver. Methinks a trip to ramshackle backwater-town-nobody-in his-right-mind-would-go-to, Ontario, is in order. But I'm pretty sure there's a law against stoving their heads in with a roll of quarters. And they're easier to catch too... dangit.

2003-04-27T21:32:00.000-07:00

So. Friggin'. Tired. *collapse*

2003-04-27T04:15:00.000-07:00

(high pitched girlish squeal) EEEEee! Internet came back up and I did some blog runs - necessary because I'm moving out in five hours.

World news is getting really funny - kicking puppies over walls might become a new sport. Coupled with everyone's favourite disease, I'm not going home anytimes soon, methinks.

Other blog news updates: As of 27th April (update on previous update)

Kunika's art is getting muy muy pretty in freaking leaps and bounds. She's decided she can be professional when she gets obsessed, and I heartily agree. Much wackiness with mai from 551094 and stuff- makes me wish I was halfway as fast with a tablet (she'd go BWAHAHAHAHA at this). No promises, but if I have free time, I'll draw you a Zath.

Xedi still seems to be alive, much to her consternation. Maybe I should figure out how to use the postal service over here (such complex tasks as stamps do befuddle my feeble brain so) and mail her a tablet. I wanna see her art online, damnit.

Icegaze is having a Ceesgasm. No comment.

I CAUGHT FLIK! Sorry. Just had to say that. Without any pokeballs too. flik gave me advice and so I'm gonna try out BOF:DQ and possibly RO, which means hanging around the semi-insane angel board people more than absolutely necessary. xD

(obligatory long florida related bit! Yippee!)

From her livejournal, Sair got a boyfriend! That is so fricking cool XD (it seems that eveybody's getting paired off. This relationship thing must be contagious. *pulls out self-defense can of relationship-away* X3) Kuni knows better than anyone how scaryhappy I get when people I know pair off. XD I suppose it's out of happiness to know that for every stupid baby-churning mormon out there, there's a relationship that works. (With luck, I'll even get Kunibabies to scare with bad shounen-ai).

Yes, WL, she still hates me for her reasons but poooh. Everyone's entitled to their opinions and hell if I'm going to strike somebody off that easily *shrugs* Youzen's given me adequate experience on how to like a person who dislikes you. The problem is that I only perform best in retrospect *looks below* SHEESH. Such an angry knee-jerk post. SHAME ON ME.

I made a promise, and I'm jolly well gonna be there no matter WHAT, hate or no hate. *silly angsty emotions - piffle* The fact is that if I gave up and threw it into the rubbish bin, all this *indicates at massive stack of art practice* would've been for nothing. Pooh - they meant more to me than just people and that's really fucking stupid to discard my ideals. I don't freaking care how angry you get anymore - that's your business. Sair, I'm gonna treat you as a best friend whether you like it or not and no matter what you do. Get it through your mind: THIS IS NOT INTRUSIVE. I'm not forcing you to read my infrequent blog posts about how cool your art is and stuff.

(sidenote: the Youzen strategy is as follows: rather than compromise my freedom of expression and integrity, I'll just rather say whatever the hell I want, but in a completely passive manner. i.e. no blog comments! BAAD DAR! *Smacks with ruler*)

NT is complaining about school. Which is sorta the norm for anyone going through the Daria phase of their lives, so I'll let it rest at that. It's far scarier when people don't complain about their lives and it's obvious they arent' out there having fun. It shows they've kinda lost the will to fight back.

Youzen is being herself. I wonder if N. knows I've found her new lj yet. X3 Someday I'm gonna have to count how many disused blogs she's left on her internet rubbish trail. Her art seems to be more concentrated on perspective nowadays and she really REALLY hates "constructive criticism" (For once, I can't blame her on that one. That princess suzume woman seems freaking annoying with her unsolicited "know-it-all"-ness and can't get a hint.) I think she's hoping I'll make a post on her LJ with my lj account so that she can delete/ban me toot-sweet. Like I'm that silly. *laughs*

...SS is still chasing me with a seifuku *runs*

2003-04-25T08:03:00.000-07:00

Moving is the fine art of putting large things into small boxes. I am incapable of putting even a penny into a jar. Which means I therefore suck at it.

SS, I tried to contact ya, but you were at class... Heah

It's been a fun year, yeah. *laughs* Everybody's doing great - Kuni has attention-seeking maggots on the Devart boards, Ginger is probably finally going to lose something of his (*winkwink nudge*). Auby has a new reptile to complement Will, Icegaze is all e-Cees-tastic. My parents are having hell of a time throwing parties for the SARS-weary and the angel-board people are being angel-board people. And contrary to popular belief, Wai Leng, there are entire weeks when I'm not pissy. Live with it. XD (on that note: Florida has fantastic seafood though - you should give it a try if you ever get out of hellhole/purgatory. It's also a fantastic place for books and meeting old people/teenage wannabe goths. I hear Boston isn't half bad either.)

I'm not doing so bad myself. Got a new pair of headphones and a buncha ideas, got a tablet and a lot of time. Now if only I had accommodations for the next week things would be just peachy-keen, methinks. Prepare for my next blog to be made from a sidewalk refrigerator box because I move out in *checks* 12 hours. Probably a whiny bitchrant about how those blasted boxes really SHOULD have better insulation (unless I can find enough styrofoam peanuts).

Oh shit... my neighbours are seminaked. I'd better put a stop to this now.

2003-04-16T03:41:00.000-07:00

You know you're getting tired when you start drawing matrix problems on a sketch of a futon.

Kuni says that people can have great anatomy and composition, but horrible flow. I wonder if this "flow" is one of those je ne sais quoi thingummies. I suppose she means that each picture has to be worth it's thousand words, otherwise it's just another pretty pattern. Yet another excuse to let artness sink into mediocrity.

Frankly, I'm noting a lack of obsession with detail these days. Detail seems like it should fit naturally as an afterthought rather than to comprise the main idea of things. Otherwise you end up writing like Robert Jordan and his notorious Wheel of Time series that take three paragraphs to tell you all about the particular hue of the horse the main character is riding on. Not to mention this amount of detail is gratifying but rarely noted.

She's right in a sense. Popular artists don't draw for other artists, although that'd be nice. They draw for people who don't. Which means you have far more leeway on the art skillz and much less on the ideas and concepts. Sure... you can draw a pretty picture, but what makes you special? Question for me to answer in my free time.

With luck, we're all going down to some silly anime con in Toronto come August. I'm trying to see if I can get Kev to go as Anbu Gai (insert world-class snert). Kuni can do Anbu Kakashi and freak the dickens out of mainstream fangirls (time to break out the boob bandages again XD). As for me, She says I could possibly do a Satoshi, but I'm not all into DNAngel or for molesting pretty boys yet (no matter what SS says). Therefore I think I might go as Yakushi Kabuto from Naruto, significantly decreasing the chances of being treed by a fat fangirl cosplaying Dark Mousy. Plus: with a ninja mask, you don't have to worry about SARS. Yet another reason why we should all live in tree villages.

Of course... the main problem here is that she's much more of a Kakailu person than a Kakagai (evidently) and there's too much hair. Which means that maybe I can arrange a compromise and get her to do Iluka and Kev to do a Kakashi.

(tries to imagine Kev Kakashi)
(falls over laughing)

2003-04-14T19:17:00.000-07:00

Freaking BUSY as I am, I've been rushing off quick character studies of RF in preparation for the holidays, whereupon much drawing and disaster will occur! W00t.

Wulong and Redd

One of the things the coyote said that actually made sense is that too much detail sometimes can be a right bitch to draw and also have quite the opposite effect on the eyes. That's why Elton John isn't exactly the pinnacle of haute fashion.

I confess I've been neglecting this blog for the LJ because all I ever seem to do here is talk about problems. One heck of a name. HA!

(to you-know-who)

As an old song says: if you're not going to make anyone happy, you might as well suit yourself. I'm not psychic and I'm not more tacitly empathetic than the next man, so screw female pyschic mindgames. I'm sick and tired of playing them. And frankly, covering up shit and pretending it's not there makes me sick to the stomach. Because frankly, I'd rather clean it up so that SOMEBODY innocent doesn't step on it. This is also the reason why you do NOT leave dishes in the sink to soak for somebody else to find, goddamn it. That breeds bacteria. Dishes are NOT laundry stains.

Different people handle things different ways and if you can't handle that and would prefer people do things your secret way that you wrote down and locked away inside a safe that only a few people know the code to, SUCKS TO YOU, BUCKO. All I asked for is respect for my way. So. Damn. Angry. I could blame it on the stress, but I don't think I'm that weak yet.

Frankly, sometimes, double X chromosomes make me want to get a very large plank-with-a-nail-through-it.

I've always said that the prime constituent of any relationship is mutual respect or the lack of it. And behind that, there's a frigging good reason why I give up on trying to make even friends sometimes, so get off my back, damnit, Mom. Frankly, you know what? I'm THIS close to not giving a fuck anymore, you sorry victims you. And I apologize for being myself. Perhaps you should try it sometimes. (Yes, that was calculated to hurt, damnit. I'm sorry if the attempt was too pathetic to meet your elite standards.) Wondering about things by myself is frankly driving me NUTS and shit all if I'm too stupid or inferior to talk things over with. It's one thing to say you're biding, quite another thing to keep dropping venomous anger bombshells and hints that only a blind cow could miss. I'm all very happy you're getting on well, but is it too much to ask to shut the fuck up if... *pfft*

Ask anyone who knows me well. I've NEVER been this fucking angry before. I get annoyed easily, but it takes a fucking truckload of shit to make me angry. Still. *reads post* Ugh... you know what? I'm starting to act JUST LIKE YOU. And at least I have the fucking decency to hate myself for it.

Japanese exam tomorrow. Mmm. Particle-y goodness.

2003-04-08T04:50:00.000-07:00

'Fessing up

Before I leave, I'd like to talk about one thing that has been seriously screwing up my life and why it doesn't affect me anymore.

I try not to keep personal Dar secrets,but I haven't talked about this to anyone - so it sort of sat inside me until I learnt to deal with it.
'ts one of those things which you're embarrassed about so much that you get cringes of shame thinking about it.

But the more I talk about my embarrassing self-loathing moments, the less embarrassing they become and I can NOT afford to be thinking about this in the next two weeks.

What I did on my holidays.

As you may already have guessed, quite some time ago, I went down to Florida to visit Sair and Megs. I had apprehensions about the entire trip from the start and yes, it did not go well.
What did I learn? That saying what you think, being antisocial and confrontational is not good, especially not to people you like but don't really know all that well yet.

Benjamin Franklin says that guests are like dead fish - both begin to stink after three days.

Now try to imagine a disgruntled Asian boy as a millstone around your neck during your vacation. DEFINITELY not fun. It came to the point where my intuition told me "hey, you're a millstone" and I said "yes" and cut the trip short. A lot of this led to facade #1) of the year - being happy and resolute while leaving.

Sometimes I'd like to imagine there are two of me and one of them goes "Eh" at anything thrown at him because he can't feel pain anymore. The other one sobs buckets, which is frankly not what I'd have at social gatherings. In other words, I was aloof and standoffish about the entire incident too long, because I simply couldn't feel about it.

Bitter Dar (the shithead) appeared for awhile and tried slinging around some blame, but I eventually told him "Look here - shithead, despite what you think, this hasn't affected you in any other way that emotionally - you're still well off and without problems. I'm not going to play the victim." Because I suck major shit when I'm bitter and angsty.

The fact is that both of them were really good hosts and if anything, I probably ruined it for myself. I tend to do that. The truth is that I don't think any of us could isolate the reason for general wrongness, although I suspect that was just nicety on their part. n_n

And a month or two ago, after a short AIM conversation with Sair, I finally got over myself because I'm not worth all the trouble, seriously. They're doing well (judging from lj reads) and it's not in my place to guilt. A short of AIM deletion followed, prima facie evidence of finally getting over guilt complexes because it shows you've let go. And all would be well if it weren't for the fact things like yesterday happen where Megs goes "I've been thinking of all the people I hate" and I start to wonder.

I sincerely hope I haven't scarred her life to the point at which she loathes me, but if I have, there's nothing I will say or do, because I don't know how and I risk exacerbating situations. I'm not doing anything because I'm not sure I CAN do anything and truth be told - who says she isn't justified? Fact is that I'm not sure what they feel because they don't talk about it and I wasn't born an empath (I wish). Which leaves me to the logical conclusion of hate. I'm still kinda confused about the situation, but I can laugh and make fun of it now - which is great, I guess.

And the main reason why I've been keeping this to myself is that somewhere inside, I've been really afraid. That this may repeat itself - that Dar is a terrible slut - that I would lose friends again if I ever met them as a result of my personality, damnit. As a result, I've been striking out at N. (stupidfatJapanesebitch) with the reassurance that she's worse than I am. Out of the fear that I'm more like her than I know.

In some way, I guess I'm really freaking afraid that come to the line, no matter how close you thought you were to a person, it all fades up and close once you can see exactly how ugly (personality-wise) I am without distance distortion factors. Which leaves me alone in the world except for two people who I grew up with, both male - and WL, who is the most sensible girl I've ever met. Yes, I was afraid of losing you as a friend, Kuni, SS, Auby, Icegaze,rhowan,Ginger, even. Based on former experiences - which was doing you guys a huge disservice. I've said too often that when people lose something, they fixate too much on what they've lost without fixating on what they already have - and I'm taking my own advice in this case.

And I do think that even if I do lose close friends (a rare resource for me), that probably makes me treasure the few people who can tolerate my incessant negativity/positivity even more. I've learnt a lot from this and I hope to goodness' sake it's not lashback at them (Please. No.) but I do appreciate you guys more in small ways. I should really take better care of you.

And I want to make it clear that I am always expendable. You are not. Feel free to tell me to fuck off - because frankly, I'd much rather I hurt than you. Friends mean everything to me past my family, which they are on equal levels with. I place myself a distant third. Thanks for listening... and I everyone I've mentioned here, I LOVE you. I really do. (even N. although that's kinda twisted - hey a guy needs his enemies)

2003-04-07T04:39:00.000-07:00

Note to my friends:

Dear y'all... thanks to one high profile respiratory disease, I may not be going back this Summer. This means no internet from the 23rd on unless I can figure out something.
Exams start this week and I'll likely be too busy, so I thought it would be really nice to give everyone a piece of Dar to tide you over the period. If I do go back to S'pore and come back dead or something... well. Here's a mini-will.

In Alphabetical order:

Auby: I'm really ludicrously, overenthusiastically, sincerely happy that your writer's block has given up. Here's to the first chapter of Hunting Alice and here's to your graduation. I personally would find it an extremely scary event, but the confidence with which you handle yourself has always been a huge pep rally reference for me. Here's to hoping you get happily conjoined to Will and you both have little Aubylets and Will-lets, even if I do detest the little Winston Churchills so.

Ginger: If I do cough myself to death - you can have my PS2. XD My computer will be burnt with me in the Indian practice of suttee.

Icegaze: Boo - you're finally going to meet Cees! Good luck! I'll be on the sidelines with my pom-poms. Just close your eyes and think "rah-rah". That's me *grin*.

Kuni: Blog more often! *smacks Kuni* despite what your self-hating psyche loves to claim, you know you're a popular and loved artist with many more fan-adorers than just us. Listen to your common sense for once. She's waving red flags. Also - do me a favour and make sure you k&t to Icegaze. XD I wanna hear ALL the smooshy details.

SS: Sou sou... konogoro wa hontou ni isogashii ne... honjitsu wa, kimi to Fuji wa suteki na futari da nee. Okasan wa mou sukoshii ne kikimasu - taihen datta to omoimasu. Demo, Fuji to kekkon no toki ni shashin o agete kudasaiii. (huge cardboard model of Fuji) XD

Other people: "Be happy" all the time isn't necessarily a good thing. Neither is being depressed - I think it's healthy not to be overly self-conscious. I also thing life is far more gratifying if it stops becoming "me me me" and gets more a focus on "you you you". And despite all the cynicism and rampant sarcasm as a substitute-for-intelligence, let it never be said that I stopped caring. Because I really didn't, even if I may have pretended so (god I hate it when I indulge in hypocrisy. I've done that facade thing three times this year.). And that makes a world of difference to me, because I will never be N. the stupidfatJapanesebitch.

Have a great summer, guys!

2003-03-18T10:58:00.000-08:00

I finally activated my LJ account. This means that all angsty rants can henceforth disappear. I'd wave a magic wand if that wasn't so horribly phallic.

Spring cometh

I've been getting compliments on my art, not to mention the last few tests have been kinda brain-dead. This puts me in a hellish good mood where I neglect the blog because I have nothing more to say than: my life is great. Counting my blessings has always been a daunting task.

Yesterday, I was walking to the dining hall and I saw a dead tree-rat which had frozen solid during the winter. It was somehow the prettiest thing on earth at that moment and Asia felt so very far away (Amen. Somehow I dread going back to S'pore.) At that moment, I somehow got swept up in the most kitschy wave of nostalgia and faces ever.

And then a woman in a pink sou'wester walking her scottish terrier wanted to pass. Quite unthinkingly, I said "You know what? Screw it." aloud to myself. She gave me a dirty look and I gave her the widest grin I could muster.

Later, I went back to my dorm and flung open the window for the first time since November. It was the best feeling ever.

2003-03-12T04:28:00.000-08:00

DEATH to realpolitik! I must be a good anarchist.

2003-02-25T09:57:00.000-08:00

Khhhccrrk *cringes* this blog has now officially become a rant blog.

There is positively nothing more vile than an idiot who thinks that he is more intelligent than everyone else and throws this belief around.

Except an idiot who thinks that some kind of social flaw innately makes his segregative clique more intelligent than everyone else and throws this belief around.

Show me a book about how "left handed people are more intelligent on average than right handed people" and I'll show you a book written by a left handed person who loves to play the victim. Or a right handed person with a serious inferiority complex/ some hellishly complex ulterior motive. If you write a book on how gay people are more intelligent that heterosexual people, you probably haven't been hanging around enough stupid gay people (you know - the ones that generate the drive for all that pr0n with people sticking large foreign objects up their rectums. Think about it) And at best, everyone SHOULD know the unreliability of so-called journalism-melodrama-ese's factual sweeping "scientifically proven" statements (cure for cancer found = we have found a way to halt SOME cancer in MICE. WHEE.). Stop trying to pass off a sample test as conclusive proof, damnit! .

At least when I assert that my little circle of acquaintances is more intelligent than the average - the reason for that is because I am selective (And they are intelligent to ME. This is not a superiority issue or a proven fact.). There's no binding interest or handicap and no, not all the people within this clique like me.

Why the hell does your penis have to be so SODDING ENORMOUS? I hope you burn it off with that fricking industrial-strength magnifying glass you're always using to stare at it.

2003-02-24T13:40:00.000-08:00

You know, politics or news is a bad topic. I usually trust that it's something dirty and unfun, but you have to keep up with it anyway.
Like taking out the trash.

... I'm bloody sick and tired of people saying "Oh, the news depresses me, so I don't read it".

People like you get jaded so quickly. You somehow put yourself "above" this. Well, hardy har har - you're not the one getting raped by Exxon Mobil employees in Indonesia (defended by US legal processes no less). You don't have to worry about getting blown up on the way to school every day by American-funded weapons/left-wing dictatorships. Some of you don't even have to worry about where your next fucking meal is coming from. Aren't you just a LITTLE bit selfish?

Yes, you know your right from wrong, at least I'll give you that. But when you know there is a problem and you sit back and let things fester... I have utter and complete contempt for you. It's just so much easier not to care, isn't it? Oh yes, because nobody would hear you anyway. Screwed up sense of conviction you have.

I'm sometimes really bloody sad I wasn't born in America, because then I could actually do something like I had a RESPONSIBILITY. Of course, I'm not American, so to the American government, I'm just so much ear-wind/bomb-bait. Sometimes you make me proud of being Singaporean. Uggggh. *indescribable urge to KICK something violently*

Yes, there's no need for you to demonstrate. You don't even have to donate to help war victims. I believe it's good enough to know what's right from wrong and do what's right -within your power. But is it just too much to open your bloody selfish eyes and SEE the goddamn planet for once? What your government is getting away with just because so many of you refuse to catch up with the news? Oh no. You close your eyes and go "laa laa laa - it'll all go away if I ignore it". Then you flip to the sports section because we all know that a bloody conflict in the middle east is repetitive and hackneyed, SO MUCH UNLIKE sports (/sarcasm).

Keeping up with current events is a minor token. But it shows you give a flying fuck about the world, you want to be informed, have your eyes wide open. So Harry potter wants to screw Draco. Hardy har. Can you put things in perspective and get over yourself? So your friends don't like you. Is that a reason to show absolutely no respect for aid workers blown up by bombs? Yes - you're entirely entitled to do what you wish. Understandably - if you're a single mother with three kids in New York, you have more pressing concerns.

But when I encounter people who can recite to me entire litanies of what colour underwear James Marsters wears, spend HOURS reading trashy fanfiction, and yet don't know what the fuck the your country is doing to the rest of the world (putting KISSINGER in charge of foreign policy?), then get all jaded "Oh - (I'm above that) - dont wanna know" when you inform them, ignorance is bliss blah blah - I have one thing to say.

DAMN you bastards. You should be dumped in the middle of a quicksand pit and have everyone else within hearing distance cover their ears and go "laa laa - I can't hear you".

2003-02-23T12:59:00.000-08:00

Retrospectum (sifting through blogjunk)
Things that have changed in the last year, categorized from most recent to least:

-Fanatic waltz will soon be revamped. All the links are dead now because it was godawfully ugly. Now it's just slightly eye-wrenching.
-Manga on hiatus because of a lack of committment brought upon by lack of interest.
-Furlifoo is up and spiffy lookin'!
-I'm in COLLEGE. Goodness... that sure took a long time.
-America is slowly becoming one giant pariah.
-Lost a few friends, gained a few. Checks and balances. Love ya always, guys.
-I've learnt that if I have quality friends, I have even more quality enemies. Good intelligent enemies are hard to come by.
-Learnt how to mouth an oath. No, I don't swear. I oath.
-I've been returning to jadedness while remaining happy. Truly a conundrum.

Current mysteries of the universe:

-Why people like roleplaying paladins and thinking that a bloody stinking horse is integral to the character. Spartacus is hardly a good role model.
The fact is that horses smell, they're dumb and they attract flies. Blasted unicorns.
-Why oh WHY does your penis have to be absolutely PROVEN in any means necessary to be larger?
-How can people watch sports and say "it's really the spirit of the game" with a straight face? Hellooo seven digit paycheck.

Recent answers:

-Homosexuality is biased. So is heterosexuality or any sexual preference/fetish, for that matter. If you let gender get in the way of your expression of love for someone, that merely depreciates the sincerity of your feelings. The only non-discriminatory way is to go bi or neither. Logically, this isn't entirely useful since we're all entitled to like different things (and fairness is not a stable system), but it helps to put people who cry "discrimination" into proper perspective.

-Truth is unpopular. Mulder was a masochist. The reason why the truth is out there is because it doesn't have anywhere to call home. Also, when I say "I value honesty", it's easy to listen to expositories and condemn without realizing my own (similiar) flaws. I must not make this mistake of hypocrisy. Do. Not. Judge.

-It's easier to cling on things that give you happiness than to give up. It's easier to give up things that make you frustrated than to keep trying. It seems simple, yet hard to understand.

-Perhaps most important: Do not drink oyster sauce from the bottle.

I'm thinking of writing a users manual to life. There should be documentation for this sort of thing. Too many bugs, no defined user specs. And where do I call technical support?

2003-02-19T17:14:00.000-08:00

The ex officio follow-up to vagina "labitation" jokes

(posted from an IM conversation)
Dar: I wonder if women have penis issues. Isn't it mostly about breast and hip sizes?
F: I think there are lesbians that decide to go for surgery to get a penis.
Dar: Really?...... Wow..
Dar: So I guess that explains dickgirls...
Dar: I wonder what that kind of operation is called....
Dar: "Constructive Cliticism"?

I kill myself sometimes.

2003-02-17T04:11:00.000-08:00

I've been watching too much Iron Chef.
But this mushroom tomato cheese soup really is quite good. Now if only I had an onion.

*gets back to work* Ho hum.

(edit)

I suppose it merits some description.

Take some Inoki mushrooms (the natural noodle!), marinate in soya sauce until they separate (chopping off the horse poo, natch).

Stick in hot pot with a pinch of corn flour, about half a can of stewed tomatoes (not too many or the acid taste will ruin everything), 3/4s of a can of water, then add two sliced portobello mushrooms and about two tablespoons of cream cheese (slices will do but they look kinda gross in water bases. I suppose you can use half a cup of milk instead). Liberally salt to taste and when you think you're done, add one more dash. Add more button mushrooms if you want. (sliced thin to minimize cooking time)

Bring to a boil. Add a dash of cooking wine (or sherry), then turn down heat and read your Bio text (two chapters should do). Wait to cool (this is important).

Serve with nori, top with. Probably goes best with a small drink of water as it's a bit tart, too thin to be eaten with bread and yet too rich to be washed down with milk. Truly a bipolar dish for a bipolar person.

Further suggestions: Does fine as a consomme, but needs more starch to stand as a stew. You'd probably need to do a proper roux. Fried corn flour - yum. Also be warned that my tastes run towards bowls of char mee with 8 shakes of vinegar (enough to brain a critic from across the dining hall). Next on the agenda is oysters, inoki and crab meat wrapped in bread dumplings held together with cheese. Should be microwave-friendly if I do it right.

2003-02-13T13:51:00.000-08:00

On one hand, I do suppose that people in anime clubs that run around and scream random Japanese are rather overwhelming. To say the least.

On the other, as far as I'm concerned, they have perfect right to do anything they want as long as they don't step on my bronze-sandled toes.

When people try to emulate Chinese culture, my initial response, (after the knee-jerk "Why would you want to do something like that?") is to go "eh". It doesn't bother me - because I frequently forget that I'm Chinese at all. I suppose this shows I'm Grade A-1 in the way of laid backness.

So now you have a bunch of freaky people whose tastes run towards the lowest common denominator. And horror-of-horrors, your hobby is no longer obscure, your clique has been breached. To make matters worse, there are bound to be a few morons which actually like the same things that you do within that clique. And you feel this burgeoning resentment towards either 1) them or 2) those very same things you found enjoyable. That's only logical.

Take Ranma for an example. Rumiko Takahashi's comic really IS quite good in the terms of flippant humour. You can't help but notice how the humour predates the Simpsons for pointlessness. But once you admit to liking that, you're likening yourself to billions of annoying fangirls/boys that run around screaming "BAKA" and end up draw sad little Megatokyo-esque webcomics. So instead of trying to explain that "Yes, I do like it, but I'm not. Like. Them.", you pull back due to fear of guilt by association. As a result, the fanbase ruins the entire comic. (The same can be said for MegaToko except MegaTokyo is more like Ranma without the humour, (sarcasm)the plot, and the good art (/sarcasm).

And then there's the "I like it too much to let go" response. Where you go around bitching about the fanbase and shriek in pain every time you see more fanfic of Gimli bonking Legolas.

And then there's the sectarian movement. Where you divide a subculture further to distinguish yourselves from the "other fans". You know, the 300-pound wonders that wear Faye Valentine outfits to conventions. Oh no. You're able to appreciate the deep and tragic beauty behind Faye's character. And the other people are just watching it to gaze at her boobs.

Yeah right.

I suppose this is where losing your shame would do you a little good. Sure - it may identify yourself with billions of other morons. But popularity alone does not indicate mediocrity. Despite life's repeated attempts to prove this wrong. As long as you yourself aren't running around and screaming "ORO" at the top of your lungs at conventions, I think it's pretty much safe to say you aren't one of them. Denial isn't necessarily a good thing, y'know - and what would you put in the memory box? "I came, I saw, I complained."? Just point and laugh. Anger has always been inferior to contempt. And if what those psychological dabblers say is true, you'll probably live a lot longer too.

2003-02-10T20:13:00.000-08:00

I'm trying to clean up this computer, my room and possibly my priorities. It's amazing how many old text files I leave around this thing with archaic names. Responsibility was never an easy lesson to learn. I guess I'm trying to act the adult *winces*. Today I realized I'm not such bad company for myself after all. I like myself. I have good taste in certain pertinent things, I don't have to send myself flowers on important dates, and I react well to me cheering myself up. There's a heapin' pile of boxes I have to fill now.

School is getting busy for everyone. Not much fun - since there's not many people around to talk to. But occasionally, there are signs or two from above showing me that life is still the fantastic adventure I think it is.

First: Snow angels. They're really more fun than aluminium foil casts of your face. You have to watch out if snow gets in your pants though - for some reason, when snow melts, it smells like puree of old gym socks. I couldn't quite get the space between the thighs to be snow-free, so it ended up looking like the angel had a spike stuck up its arse.

Second: Grey skies. It's really impressive how the sky can change so many times in the course of two days. There's something very charming about a grey sky, blue snow and the orange lights around campus. Orange was a really good choice, because some days when I'm walking back from Stauffer (the library), the contrast is absolutely divine. For a moment, it feels like the entire world got sealed within a giant snow globe and you're somewhere alone, contained and sacred.

Third: Hitler vs. Stalin. GOD, I want to see this as a Capcom game.

Text file reminders:
I've decided to take the manga one panel a day starting from yesterday. I don't care if it's half-arsed. Half an arse is better than none. This is now a responsibility, not an obligation. Domo arigatou, Sakura-eki kun.

Other interesting tidbits include more bad poetry and a detailed analysis of Cheetos shapes. I can't remember getting the X shaped one. I had an entire family of l'il chromosomes, according to this.

Next week, I'm going town hiking. I need to learn to drive... if not, I suppose I could rent one of those mini snow plow things? Backpack, me and possibly Tim Horton's. The muffins are terrible, but the hot coffee is actually quite decent. Perhaps I'll drop by the RMC and make faces at the cadets. Xaxaxaxaxa!

2003-02-09T17:27:00.000-08:00

The important things

A few addendums to Auby theory:

I can't claim to understand the male mind. It' s a very messy place. I occasionally wonder why it's so hard for people to recapture the essence of childhood.

One might say this is all the fault of hormones. After all - all that teenage growing up did was to leave you with acne and lots of hormones floating around in your bloodstream telling you to go screw the nearest thing with a hole and a 33-inch bustline. Perhaps it's this "loss of innocence" that permeates our beings, that makes it so hard for us to be objective towards anything with sexual implications. But that annoys me - because as much as sex is a fundamental, the thought of it permeating all social interactions is anathema to my philosophy of personal purity. Purity is essential in distinguishing ourselves from other organisms - makes us unique. Distilling its very essence is therefore ultimately desirable for me. In that aspect, I realize I'm actually a deeply religious person.

Asexuality is easy. Regression to the point where you view sex as an "Eew - pokeything" isn't too hard to initiate. Unfortunately, I think this is beginning to have side effects on my daily behaviour. First it was manic happiness, then the carrying of stuffed toys around in my bag (but I love Stitch). I still dance around in corridors when nobody's watching. But my bipolarity is finally beginning to crack. Upon social situations, I'm beginning to revert to 90-year-old bitter cynic mode, suspicious and untrusting of anything. Hence this string of comments on transgenderal relationships.

It's always funny when they say in movies about ex-es: "Let's just be friends." Then one of the two realizes that this won't work out for his or her interests and flees like a decapitated chicken. I find this frankly amusing - because for some reason this unconsciously puts friendship on a lower level than "relationships". To illustrate.

Relationships: Sex with responsibilities to endear yourself to the other.
Friendship: Sex is not a driving factor. Responsibilities primarily to yourself.

It follows then that acts of friendship is of greater purity than a relationship. In which to speak - one does things out of goodwill towards a person rather than out of a misplaced responsibility towards that person (because bonking is occuring). It's frankly ironic that in seeking, I notice that women are far less likely to actually KNOW what they want. This is true for most cases - take utility shopping. A man will usually know what he wants beforehand, enter the store and exit with the product, perhaps with actual browsing, but almost always relavant to the puchase in hand.

With women - one can trace a systematic path that takes them throughout all the aisles of the store, randomly trying out anything and everything in hopes that that magical something they seek will be established. This is regardless of whether they're just burning time or if they urgently need to buy tampons. This may indicate that it's hard for women to stay satisfied. For most men, I observe that stagnancy occurs as soon as they realize their metaphorical penis is bigger than that of all other men. For women, evaluation never stops. Fail too many secret checks (due to their unconfrontational nature, as Auby suggested) and whoosh - you're gone into that big pit of "not what I'm looking for". Hence, I can deduce one important thing:

With friendships, it is of utmost importance that you never think your friends have an obligation or responsibility to you.

This is ultimately self-serving.

I must recall my three tenets of the self: Happiness (a.k.a having fun), respect and control.

In Happiness, there lies the ability never to take yourself too seriously. Yes, establish respect for yourself, never take a sleight lying down, but never assume the worst. Never place anything other than long-term (and this is important) happiness as a priority. Dismiss people and things that get in your way. And always look out for the toy in the box of oatmeal. It helps if you actually like oatmeal.

In Respect lies the willingness to accept that your friends are not there for you to lean on all the time. They may offer it, but that does NOT mean you should take it for granted. A friend you can rely on is different from an insignificant other that you sit on. Respect is the pillar that helps you leave people alone to their lives - if they don't ask, tis better not to 'give'. Never use other people. Respect yourself and your own company. Remember: "Take back your sympathy, I do not need to drink that bitter stuff. I'd rather break the thread that bound us close and say we called a bluff.".

In Control lies strength. Discipline to do things in the interest of long-term fun/reward. The control not to do things that violate the other two boundaries. To fight hormones and ourselves, if need be, to stop ourselves from falling into a categorisation trap in thinking "I am this and therefore I am biased". The Control to never give in to peer pressure, or anyone else. The ability to stand on our own two legs and set aside our training wheels.

Patience. It will all work out for the best. Trust yourself.

2003-02-06T14:09:00.000-08:00

Mental conversation:

Bored and the only person that wants to talk to me now is my mother. Oh god - I'm pathetic.

So?

So that means I'm pathetic.

So what?

Umm... I don't know.

How does this affect me?

... don't know either. Probably low self esteem. People laugh at you or stuff. You get hurt.

Really?

Well - no. That would actually require you to care about what people other than yourself think. But.

But?

Forget I said anything.

Goodness, even I can tire of myself at times. I need to learn to be less rational.

2003-01-27T05:44:00.000-08:00

Aluminium foil is a wondrous thing
it's made of the stuff that you find on a wing
of an aeroplane, yet you'll be able to bend
or fold it as you please with your feet or your hand
or your nose if you want to but that's kinda silly
and I bet if you wanted, you could use your willy.
But if you are averse to something so base
you can amuse yourself with a mould of your face
but weirdest of all is - if you're in the mood
you can even apply it to leftover food.

2003-01-16T10:55:00.000-08:00

1,2,3,4,5,6,7... 800 bucks. Not too shabby. It'd help if mommy didn't call up at 3:27 a.m. Postponed payment to May though.

And now. *deep breath*

Happy birthday to you...
you are now twenty-two...
Soon you'll be seventy and decrepit and dead and most people won't give a flying coitus...
Try to have a happy birthday anyway.

Thank god I've not told anyone, antisocial brat that I am. I've never had a tacky card "thanks for the sentiment" with signatures and banal repetitive comments in it and some ill-chosen fluffy thing to adorn the cover. Was that bittterness? *thinks* Probably not, I really don't like the idea. And for goodness' sake - if I get myself a cake (just so as not to break a running trend), remember not to light the candles. Those college fire alarms are hypersensitive.

Oh... why do I get so frickin' goth around this time of the year? *whines* At least I'm not happy anymore.

2003-01-15T14:37:00.000-08:00

Hmmn... Wednesdays to Thursdays are now officially "stasis bio" days. All work on webcomics must immediately halt while I amuse myself with tons of hopelessly technical journals of jargon. To pass on the tedium, here I will rate my collection of scarves. Take note that I almost never buy clothes for myself.

Gray fuzzy cashmere scarflet rag thingy.
What: Given to me by mom before I left. Castoff since she got a new one.
Comfort rating: 3/10. Cashmere is overrated and prickly. The socks are much better because I don't care if my feet prickle.
Sentimental rating: 0/10. Utterly grody.
Warmth: Untested because I refuse to wear it.

Blue raggly edges Canada Crew affair.
What: Given to me by mom when she came to visit me in Toronto. Has a tendency of being misplaced and is in desperate need of a wash.
Comfort rating: 9/10. The only thing that could beat this would be a velvet/silk/fauxfur affair. No, I'm not a fetishist, just a comfort connoiseur. Highly recommended.
Sentimental rating: 10/10. Really valuable to me despite having a tendency to be lost once every three days. Brin found it for me once. Makes me all warm and fuzzy.
Warmth: 7/10. Would be warmer if it was longer. Why is this scarf so short?

White grey and gold prickly wool Gap affair.
What: Given to me for Xmas from my female dawgs.
Comfort rating: 4/10: Slightly better than the Cashmere thing but oh god it pokes if you wear it in non-cold weather. Cold weather seems to nullify the prickly effect though. I'm such a wuss.
Sentimental rating: 8/10 Because it makes me happy.
Warmth: 10/10 - Currently using this. I speculate the prickliness of it takes my mind of the intense -28 degrees Celsius temperature out here. And it's long enough not to look like a tourniquet.

Whistler wraparound doughnut:
Disqualified because I wear it around my ears.

I currently hold the "If you build it, they will come" policy on webcomics. I used to append "If it is good, they will stay", but after witnessing the sheer HORROR that is Megatokyo, I have had to retract that statement. Imagine my embarassment. Instead, I give to you an amusing link.

And yes, I was going to say something here, but I just remembered that it was also the last thing I want to be reminded of. May I get a cosmic shitload of money, at least. (1 cosmic shitload = 2.3 cosmic buttloads).

2003-01-11T02:59:00.000-08:00

Good news - RF is slowly but surely getting ironed out. Give or take a few days and it'll be all green on the drawing front. pity that webpage design is going slowly due to the fact that it's frakkin' cold out here.

My brain obviously hates me because today, after a conversation with Kuni going "I've never dreamt of being anything but male", I just had the stupidest dream yet - which serves me right for thinking too much during Battle Royale. Nobody seemed to hear me when I pointed out that the collars could simply be lifted off the head since they were so incredibly loose and there was a N. Kiriyama, who was funny because I accused her of using an infinite bullet cheat. (in a dream? tres weird) Anyway, after I removed the radio collar, they said they were faulty and shouldn't have bought from the lowest bidder. So the students went amok and started a miniwar with the soldiers. Then N. Kiriyama said "I don't need a reason to hate you because I'm ugly (non sequiteur)" in Japanese and tried to shoot me (she looked like N. with a Kiriyama hairstyle - a little funny, on reflection), but I realized that it was a dream by that time and completely ignored her while I was trying to fly. Either I had teflon skin or she had terrible aim.

Life isn't half bad after all, but I worry I may be suffering from manic happiness. I have no idea what's triggering it. Probably the loss of the perpetual feeling that "something terrible is going to happen" w.r.t. my studies. It's as little distressing to be terribly happy when some of your friends are undergoing terrible phases in their lives and you have no capacity for empathy whatsoever. Are there any depressants? (as opposed to antidepressants)

2003-01-05T01:36:00.000-08:00

(*reads posts*)
Piss and moan? I think Kuni knows how much of that was sincere. (<---- Is a very very horrible person indeed).

In other news. I'm grotesquely happy again. XD (devours half a salmon)

2003-01-05T01:32:00.000-08:00

Pour Megan avec tout mon amour.
http://www.fanaticwaltz.com/stuff/box.zip

2003-01-02T21:23:00.000-08:00

Warning: Uncomfortable blogrant ahead. This is personalized, so please... And I'm not depressed - just annoyed.

***

.. I told you not to read this, Kuni (I trust you, but I don't trust your curiousity... XD)

I'm sorry - I didn't read your note that night. I was a little angry. I've been trying to turn my brain off for the last two days, but tonight - Kuni wasn't around to distract me... so I have to get this out although some things are better left unsaid. You are not required to read this. Remember - everyone needs a tree to shout into.

Summary of what was really going through my head:

#1: "I never really trusted you very much after that issue with XXX's livejournal, but I told #2 what you told me not to tell."

Me: (That was different. It doesn't count as betrayal because I was never explictly aware that it was wrong to do so. If something is a secret, I usually expect people to tell me directly that it is so. Is a betrayal really a betrayal if one does it unknowingly? Of course, that doesn't excuse the fact, but I for one believe motives count. At that point - I was too overwhelmed with anger to think coherently. And I turned it inwards upon myself so I wouldn't lash out. When I check my emotions, I hate myself. It's a habit.

#2: "Fact is that you're mean and saying you are so doesn't excuse the fact."

Me: ...saying "I didn't mean it" is harder to stomach, isn't it? Because it's so cliched. The fact is that we're error-prone. Not every action has a motive. I hope you realize this. I really didn't mean to hurt you - I thought you were above those remarks - or had grown accustomed to my terrible personality (in which I tease people if I'm happy and expect to be chided later). When good friends of mine are hurt by these comments - they usually tell me immediately that "that wasn't funny". And I apologize - I did not see the difference in the situation. Some friends wrestle physically for fun. I wrestle with words. There isn't really much difference to me. It WAS my fault. But I never imagined how ineffably heavy those words were..

#3: Why I confronted.
You had hit me, and it was definitely not a friendly blow. It hurt. You didn't smile when you said "you deserve it". I can tell when things are wrong. I care fuckall for gender roles - violence is just as acceptable from woman to man as it is from man to woman. I managed to dismiss this. You didn't. In many ways - you try to act beyond your age, but perhaps I was overassuming - I thought you were extremely young and fragile in many ways. And you'd never admit it. fact is that I cared about you and you were having a terrible time. Perhaps the only reason for this was my presence. Now that I've left - are you having a good time? I deserve to know. Was I the problem?

I can't say I didn't already know what was going to happen after that night. You gave up before I did. Respect, Trust and Dignity fled me like rats. Despite feeling like a filthy jerk for days, I have the strength to look you in the eye. You don't. I needed to look at you to apologize completely sincerely (now that I am in a stable mental state), but I guess that was denied me.

I told you before I left that I was joking when I said I didn't want to face you again. I'm not that weak. But I think you are. I feel like I've lost a friend or two, but I'm so numb right now that this is taking every last once of "I care enough not to give up and do something else" to write. I'm not depressed either, though I will tell the truth (Always the truth. Always blunt but direct. Screw the tact.) that I am absolutely infuriated at your weakness. (Or perhaps your disgust - perhaps you didn't even think me friend enough to send your regards before I had to.) But I don't feel righteous any more so than you, so drop it (you have a tendency to misread things).

I still love you a lot (in the friend way - silly). I won't chase and I definitely won't bother you, but I'll always be around for you. Best regards.

2003-01-02T16:59:00.000-08:00

I've found out why I shouldn't. EVER. Run a country.

NationStates

The Holy Empire of Fuchsia
"Contents under pressure. Handle with care."

UN Category: Psychotic Dictatorship
Civil Rights: Rare Economy: Fair Political Freedoms: Rare

Location: the Pacific
The Holy Empire of Fuchsia is a tiny, environmentally stunning nation, renowned for its burgeoning dead mongoose population. Its hard-nosed, cynical population of 6 million are ruled without fear or favor by a psychotic dictator, who outlaws just about everything and refers to the populace as "my little playthings."

The enormous, corrupt, moralistic government devotes most of its attentions to Law & Order, with areas such as Defence and Religion & Spirituality receiving almost no funds by comparison. The average income tax rate is 37%, but much higher for the wealthy. A small but healthy private sector is led by the Door-to-door Insurance Sales industry, followed by Soda Sales and Gambling.

It is illegal to make racist remarks in public and citizens are barcoded to keep track of their movements. Crime is totally unknown, thanks to the all-pervasive police force. Fuchsia's national animal is the dead mongoose, which frolics freely in the nation's many lush forests, and its currency is the hairball.

...Oh...my...god. It's Singapore.

Well, except for the dead mongeese bits. Happy new year.

2002-12-31T02:33:00.000-08:00

Just a test.

2002-12-29T00:55:00.000-08:00

Back. No regrets whatsoever, suffice to say I feel a little older and none the wiser for it.

I'm finding it hard to get properly depressed these days because I'm so out of practice.

Perhaps I'm feeling slightly more lonely than ever before, but I'm still kinda content. And happy.
Perhaps things can't always stay the same, but that doesn't necessarily equate to bad - and besides I have a week of silence to look forward to. Which calls for hot chocolate and soba noodles.

Miss my parents. I wish they'd call.
Miss my sister. She'd know how to bitchfight with me.
Miss the dog. Pepper, you're 12 years old and I gave you your name when I was nine. We go a long way back. Don't you dare croak on me unless I'm around for it.
Miss you, YQ, but not as much as you'd think because unlike Jason, you never make an effort to contact me, you whore. I hope you choke on a trolley car in the Castro.

There are going to be a few changes around here.

2002-12-16T03:21:00.000-08:00

Because I'm too cheap to buy a card - follow the five easy steps below if your internet name is Sair.

Step 1: Click on this link.
Step 2: Press "Control + P"
Step 3: Fold in a vaguely card-like shape.
Step 4: Write "Season's Greetings to BMT - because she's special".
Step 5: Sign it "Dar".

In other news - I've discovered I can tell the age of people by asking them "What's the name of Lex's website?". It works wonders.

2002-12-13T23:45:00.000-08:00

Kuni-internet-not-working-nights are boring nights. I'm turning in distressingly early because there's nobody around to annoy or listen to complain about how much typography stinks. I've become partially AIM-dependant and this is not a good thing. So in between doing art for FW (god - I'm out of practice), I've discovered that studying ins't actually half as boring as I thought it would be. It's just incredibly time-consuming. I start on a series of problems and - whoa! It's 3 a.m.

And of course, there are the days when I'm being messaged by five different people, I'd rather not be on AIM, but I don't sign off because it'd be kinda rude. I want to know who's responsible for this shoddy management of time and whop them with the ugly-stick.

Today - Dar got invited to play "spin the bottle" , but politely declined. The mere fact that they would actually consider playing that game with somebody who had evening breath (when you get up in the evening and something dies in your mouth and you can't brush your teeth because the toilet is occupied by that fat bitch across the hallway) tells you a lot about the people round here. It's like being in a truck full of rubber monkeys. Besides, the girls probably had herpes (maybe not the cute one down the hall which looks like Courtnex Cox after a brief encounter with the incredible shrinking woman, but she wasn't playing. Damn.) and the guys were decidedly red-hair-green-irisless and uncute.

So much for Triskaidecaday.

Interestingly - I've just found out that in Florida, it is apparently legal for people to make a left turn at red lights at your own discretion. This increases the probability of me, the compulsive pedestrian, coming back in a pizza box. Not fun!

Also, it appears the "obsessive-compulsive sidewalk bounce" is foreign to this part of the world, which is a crying shame. For the enlightenment of poor deprived Canucks, this game involves you bouncing at unsafe speeds down aged sections of pavement and seeing how many times you can avoid breaking your mother's back/father's spine. You can combine it with the "Manic mall dash" for extra fun - that's the game where you take the average walking rate of people in a moderately packed shopping center and run at twice that speed to your destination; point being to bounce in and out while ensuring no part of your body/clothing ever touches anyone else. I'm very good at racking up extra points for bouncing to a complete halt, pointing, and stifling an audible snerk in front of every goth geek wearing a black trenchcoat.

Other games I play involve - "Stealth mode" - where your objective is to sneak up behind random people in silent surrons and cough loudly, or just move like a snake, period. (But I think Brinson and Megan do that already. Phooey.) And "weirdwalk" where you mimic famous RPG/Fighting game characters. (try locking your hands behind your back and walking around a la Lena form Chrono Cross - things that seem natural that you NEVER see people do - the Geddoe insta-spring swinghand thing is also pretty fun. Funnest of all is Shermierun - which involves slanting your body at a 45 degree angle and running as if somebody inserted stiff poles into your libs. Running like Ramon makes you look more stupid than gay, Jason. And if you want to break your back, imitate Leona.)

Hmm... it's easy to see why girls think I'm cartoony, homophobes think I'm gay and gay people think I'm a horrible horrible misanthope that never grew up.

2002-12-12T13:08:00.000-08:00

I was walking back from the dining hall yesterday when I noticed my hands turning a weird shade of purple - are they supposed to do that?

In other news - I think I'm possibly the only geekboy on earth with sufficient cash reserves that refuses to go out and buy a Gamecube just to play Metroid Prime. I suppose this means that people would be demanding an explanation, and this one starts with a story.

A long long time ago, when I still knew the names of all the mario brother creatures by heart, there was Metroid. A pretty kinky game, all things considered, but terrible at parties, where the alien-buster of choice was Contra (au naturelle). After being considerably disillusioned by the terror that was Zelda 2 (and Link's detachable penis) Dar spent an insane amount of time with that game until two significant things happened:

1) Having blasted my way into the area with the Metriods, I was to happy to encounter a new enemy that I ran directly into one of the big jellyfish things (I love jellyfish - they're tasty). In my attemtps to YAARRGEDDITOFF, I thought the most logical thing to do would be to point upwards and shoot it with the ice beam.

Didn't work. Apparently - the designers of Samus' gun had never considered its ability to shoot in jelly.

After which, there came logical step #2: Run around like a headless chicken into the next room where: "Ooh! Lava!"

And finding out that jelly apparently survives temperatures hot enough to melt rock. But Samus didn't.

So I got pissed off and proceeded to continue - and got the letter O and the number "0" mixed up again. Those days of annoying passwords? I don't miss them one bit. For sheer hell - try playing something like the Faery Tale Adventure, which had the same "0" and "O" nondistinction, the "I" looked exactly like "1" and helpfully blurbed out three... damn... pages of code for you to hopelessly scrawl over the back of your hand.

2) Which pretty much means that when the next day, my father got a spanking new genesis, I promptly forgot about Metroid after playing Langrisser/Warsong for three hours. Screw blasting things in outer space when I could commit mass genocide with cute little soldiers.

When Super Metroid came out, I promptly remembered the indestructible jelly and got addicted to Ogre Battle instead. I think I had already been scarred by the terror that was Star control 3.

Six years later:

Jason: "You were supposed to turn into a ball and drop a bomb"
Me: "That's stupid! So as opposed to being half-covered in a toxic jellyfish, you're now TOTALLY immersed in a toxic jellyfish."
Jason: "Go take it up with the game designers."

2002-12-10T22:08:00.000-08:00

Things still extant - review Auby's novel - which I've LOST THE LINK TOO, being the silly dope that I am.

Minor discoveries - For the last three months, all the music I've been hearing on this computer has been run through a special sound effect filter meant to replicate the acoustics of a bathroom. No comment. Well, maybe one: Megan's Kyo had better never take up singing in the shower.

So now I'm generally happy, in an amicable mood and I've done all the silly thing I think I should have done. I'm studying regularly (the horror!) and things really couldn't be better, except possibly with a huge bonanza of income. Oh yeah, and install a dry-cleaning machine in my room too, god. Sair, please remember my promise to do a site overhaul in three days. That means come this Friday, I'll be updating as often as Kuni does and if I can't, it's a crying shame, considering our comparative schedules.

Here's a list of thoughts for people. Coming clean, so as to speak.

Brin: Strange as it may seem, I kind of feel I actually know less about you than Megan, so sometimes that makes me a little held-back around you. Please please please take into account that if I may sound stupid on the net, I'm possibly five times more stupid in person. I don't think I can live up to the expectations of being "oh so clever and educated" as ...certain people have a weird habit of thinking I am.

Kunika + Xedi: One minor rant in a happy world. Should I post on furlifoo.blogspot.com again? I used not to out of respect for Youzen, but now I realize I have very little respect for her anymore, non-art-wise. But ye gods, Saturnalia is impressive. If she'd just get her head out of her arse, now. I'll say it just once: It's no use to pretend that you're useless and ugly and stupid and then pretend that this (somehow) makes you better than other people. She does this all the time.

Every time Xedi tells me about the gross perpetrations and allegations filed against me by that psychotic whinegirl; I blow a fuse and take a peek at her LJ. So she's antisocial. So she has few friends. Her fault. Shut the heck up. Nothing's going to improve - if people actually drop by and decide to grace you with random anonymous comments, thank your lucky stars they somehow thought you were nice (snort) or concerned enough for you to risk your passive-aggresive childish fits. It screws with my brain every time I see how good her friends are, then see her shit all over her friends by insinuating she has none. Bitch - she gives friendship a bad name. I'm glad that one subjective comment about big hands has so wormed itself into her soul that she actually had to craprant over the issue. *snort*

And on the offchance that any of Youzen's insanely great friends stalk this blog to reconnoiteur "the enemy", I'll just say that you have WAY too much time on your hands. If I was really heinous and evil, I'd be posting repeatedly on her blog and annoying three ways of shit out of her. And no, contrary to what she thinks, I'd like to point out that evil is not glamorous, exotic and intelligent. In reality, evil is repetitive, boring, crass, unoriginal, wears too much makeup and is just plain damned annoying to have at parties. Quoting Rick Moranis is hardly glamorous, nor even remotely canonical. GOD I RESENT PARTING "SIGS". (They're these formatted repetitive quotes you attach to the arse end of messages to somehow make up for all the humour, personality and wit you evidently lack.) Shoot me if I ever get one.

Megan: Yes, I'm optimistic. Remember - I don't hate people; I just loathe unfairness and malign stupidity. I love you guys.

Auby: Augh! I'll do it right after I post! Promise! It doesn't hlep that I'm curled up in this chair and cozy-like and I have a nice Terry Pratchett book at hand and a bottle of this carbonated stuff that looks like water, but tastes of some fruit thingy.

Everyone else: God, my life is full o' smart and genuinely nice females. Would that I was born one.

2002-12-06T09:28:00.000-08:00

Holy fishbait! I've succeeded in both operations! Air Canada IS a VWP carrier.

Any moment now, my Flight to Tampa should be comfirmed with my Father. Wheee! And Mom's decided to circumvent all these headaches by issuing me a subsidiary credit card next year - so I can book flights myself. This looks like one very very orgasmic Yuletide neo-Judeo-pagan festival indeed.

Current list of to-dos:
-Study for my Bio 102 finals tomorrow.
-send email to Meg's kooky father (best kept till tomorrow).
-Review Auby's novel.

Oh goodness... and speaking of that, great news just happens to be popping up at every corner, doesn't it? I feel like a lobotomized 12-year old. *annoyed at self*

Which means I get to feel extra-snide at goth girls and ridiculous people who go "WOE -MY LIFE IS HELL". Indeed. Well, guess what - I don't give a damn, as long as you go and wail somewhere else. Your father ejaculated frankly quite a lot during his more virile years. Out of 90 million spermatozoons in one cubic centimeter of semen, YOUR little chromosome wriggled its way past millions of other avid competitors to lodge itself in the special ONE of you mother's many egg cells that didn't end up a red smear in the toilet. Then you somehow excaped abortion and here you are - in the only one of many millions of planets that we know can support life.

Life is a very very special thing indeed. Damn all this existentialist crap - if you're not enjoying yourself, you're definitely doing something wrong. Depression is usually a result of looking at other people and going "things could be better"; - well, you're already doing pretty good, you f*ckwit.

And yet we somehow refuse to believe that there's room enough on this planet for all of us and go about extolling our religious dogma on other people, blowing other people up and trying to grab more more more for ourselves. As I was telling Kunika©, if reincarnation exists, I'm coming back as an anthrophmorphical being with a vorpal hairbrush. When people are being silly, I'd spank some sense into them. How's that for canonical justice? *grin*

2002-12-02T07:12:00.000-08:00

I have a plan. And it's probably not as sneaky or whatnot as it should be, but I have a plan nevertheless.

Two plans, actually.

As of today, Operation 'Stungun' takes priority over Operation 'Thawout'. Neither of them have high success rates, but both of them may lead to a high net return of euphoria with a low input cost. Which makes sense, from my viewpoint. The problem is that 'Stungun' involves far more risk than 'Thawout' ever will, since 'Thawout' mainy involves me myself and I. Nevertheless, I feel the need to call on the ancient goddesses of hastily organized inveiglement and hope they grant me luck on my endeavours. As for Christmas, I'm trying very hard to resist the urge to fill up a bunch of socks with coal and stick them on every single door in the dorm. Which needs I need MORE mad ninja skillz.

Moving on to public domain operations, I am reminded that I have to make inquiries into Popn' 7 and to claim the goddang Pyrex bowl from the idiotic Zeller's supermart clerk (the one with the tricky eye and the bad attitude) before Mom starts harping on my nerves. Ugh. I'll post back here once I accomplish all of this. Keep tuned, over and out.

2002-11-28T03:44:00.000-08:00

Mothers...

Mom came down yesterday and she brought sushi all the way from Toronto just because I was complaining about how there was a dearth of good Japanese food in Kingston. That pretty much sums up the last two days, much of which were spent at the CAT malls, watching fat old people waddle in their PJs, shopping for things which I would never use but my mother seems to think I need. As a result - I have new kinky snow boots!

God knows how often I had to tell Mom that "snow shoes" refers to tennis-racket-like apparati that allow you to walk on top of snow, whereas snow boots are an entirely different consumer category. Still, I haven't regressed tot he point where I can blog an entire post about snow boots, so well... they're brown and neato and I can kick dents in aluminium cars with them.

Mother also tells me that my return tickets expire by March the 1st, but there are no available flights to S'pore for all of December. (ugggh) This means that I have four options.

1) Stay in Kingston, annoy people who still have exams and draw RF.
2) Take a plane trip to Florida. (Brinho, Megsies)
3) Same, but to Texas. (Kuni and gang, but no Kev)
4) Same, but to San Francisco. (YQ)

I have to plan quickly, lest all my seats get prebooked by geriatric senior citizens looking for the Mecca of death.

Then she walked around, interior-decorated my room (THE HORROR), complained about the cold and left. Love you too, Mom.

Received:
- 7 packs of instant noodles (the grossly unhealthy kind that I love. You just can't get that MSG buzz in Canada)
- Miscellaneous Southeast Asian spices that would offend even the most jaded of nasal delicacies. Jalapenos just don't taste the same as chilli pedas.
- Soba noodles and miscellaneous Japanese student foodcrap, Nori and fermented beancurd (think: Tofu left out in the sun for too long)
- Pot. Finally, I can eat liquids.

I've been a baad baad boy and not updating frequently, and that I will not allow. I have promised myself at least 3 blogs a week. It does not befit me sitting at home and writing line after line of code in attempt to master Java. I had written a post initially, but in my normal klutziness, I forgot to hit the "publish button".

So well, to sum up:

Dar isn't dead, in fact he is rather happy despite the lack of any social interaction whatsoever; additionally, despite two months of Canadian integration, my pr0n count remains at zero.

Magazines: 1 (cosmopolitan, which is really pseudo-pr0n, but would be more salacious if I wasn't cutting it up to make prurient things to post on my door)
Video tapes: 5 (L.A. Confidential, Nightmare before Christmas, 3 "Absolutely Fabulous" tapes, because I like Saunders.)

I am a living disappointment to the Male libido.

2002-11-20T16:54:00.000-08:00

Video games as escapism.

To Drouillard - Yes. I indulge. Because it's not about me, or this world, for once.

I keep reiterating - I consider myself as part of the "Story" generation. Storytelling is a powerful device, responsible for movies, books, every form of fantastic recreation around. There's nothing deplorable about it, neither is there anything to celebrate. I view roleplaying video games as such - perhaps it's a misnomer. I don't really roleplay. The point is to view the story of that character and nothing else. The integral difference between video games and life is that the characters and motivations are always easier to see in black and white issues and the characters have a motive - a goal in living. I suppose if any roleplaying occurs, it is the acquisition of a goal in life (which explains why people with "better things to do" don't usually bother with such trivialities).

Escapism is the natural and logical response to a corrupt and degenerate world. If you can't cure this world by yourself, you should find it easy open one for yourself. Perhaps we should be thankful for this secular nature because it decreases the need to actually maintain contact with people you'd rather see dead. It helps me maintain my pleasant demeanour, it helps society by removing me, an undesirable, from any further contact with idiots. Regression and nostalgia are extensions of this, but I don't see a reason to censure them.

We all have our stories. Perhaps once you dissect matters and get to the core, you'll find out exactly which of the "26 great stories retold throughout history" you are, or that you live. And wouldn't that be amusing.

It's so much easier to judge and vilify when you know you're on the 'right' side, isn't it? *laughs*

2002-11-20T16:31:00.000-08:00

Despite my attempts to lurk until exams are over... I must say that the combination of transformers and breasts never fails to amuse.

http://www.geocities.com/chee145/Chee-toys.html

Somebody give this girl a prize.

2002-11-17T18:49:00.000-08:00

I really really really detest christmas.

Yes, I'm turning into Scrooge, but if those stupid ghosts turn up, I know how to handle them - I've watched "Ghostbusters". You just need glitzy special effects and a large enoguh vacuum cleaner. There's nothing glamorous about it because it's certainly not a holiday I celebrate, not an appreciable "spirit" nor a big cause for happiness. You're not celebrating the birth of christ, you're giving people stuff and receiving stuff in return, which is fine and dandy except for all the ridiculous queues of people at department stores that make buying a simple bottle of mineral water a process that takes me ten bleeding minutes behind a fat dowdy household frump wearing incontipants.

Yes, I'm bitter, old and I feel like a hermit. Ugggh. I can't even blog properly in this state of mind.

Quote that made Tohru laugh: "I hope somebody chops you in half and sticks you in a pot to hang decorations on" (said to annoying fat couch-potato down the hall)

My popularity ratings are slipping.

2002-11-02T16:44:00.000-08:00

If you're somehow online this week or so and you're wondering where everyone's gone, well, the answer is Suikoden III. Deliciously non-adhering to the original storyline and as good as ever, with the minor flaw of not being able to waltz into people's houses and pick up everything that's not nailed down. The terror!

(I know some people actually like using huge amounds of blank space or white coloured font to keep their raving spoiler-free, but I think that reading should be a linear process and therefore consider this adequate warning. Nevertheless, you can depend on me to be vague, rampantly speculative and nondisclosary.)

Of course, this also marks the first instance of me playing through the game without YQ at my side constantly bickering about how half the cast must be gay, so I unwisely let my innendo fill in the gaps. Notable character obsessions follow:

Geddoe: Probably gay. Shows no interest in women up to this point and he buys fruit. Trades in his soiled underwear to unscrupulous information brokers (who will later sell them to horny Japanese businesswomen) in order to purchase said fruit. (Explanation: for the decimals - 0.5 of a pair of briefs is a G-string.)

Chris: Can singlehandedly take down giant crabs. Nevertheless, this girl has worn a uniform for so long that she's forgotten how to co-ordinate her boots. This explains why Nash is constantly wincing - either that or he ate a particularly bad lunchbox. (I should have thrown that away)

Hugo: Blegh... might be attractive in about six years, but travels with a performing monkey with RED HAIR AND GREEN EYES. I HATE you, Konami. Also note that the average blade goes through Hugo like... a soda through fashion-plate girl. Or perhaps - anything through Thomas. (For goodness' sake, you could probably use a feather duster to neatly slice Thomas in two)
P.S. I HOPE I don't have to go around collecting 108 people for the sake of a monkey....

Alanis and co: I somehow liked them more than I thought I would. Too much Enid Blyton and "Famous Five" ish-ness, I guess. Not to mention that Melville and Alanis really do make a cute couple.

Duke: Looks like Konami filled the ENTIRE game with red-haired green-eyed men to compensate for the monkey. I'm not complaining. But they'd better pander more.
Edge: See above
Caesar: See above. Although he's pretty hideous.
Mysterious white-coated man in the intro (see? no spoilers): See above

Ace: Fitcher with a messier job. I love Geddoe's little wolf pack o' cards the most. I most grudgingly relinquish Jacques to the Brinho.

Juan: Isn't he so Zoro? Yet, at level 25 he somehow proves less useful in a pinch than a level 17 fop with a ridiculous 84 DEF armour. Where's Simone when you need him?

Kidd: KILL CONAN.

And now for sheer irony... the character I ended up liking the most (or strongly identifying with in personality), the prize goes to...

Sergeant Joe.

WHY does Konami have to do this to me? And to think I was expecting a wacky antrophomorph... for goodness' sake, I have more respect for a bitter duck than any of the other luscious people in the game. It must be his eyes. Beautiful.

2002-10-28T12:23:00.000-08:00

And just before I pop off to sleep - here's a thought or two about our generation as a whole.

Talking to someone last night, I've thought a bit more about our internet generation. Confronted by a truckload of memes, it's so much easier to label and agglomerate. The internet lets you do both at the same time - while our lives seem an endless rush towards a desrire for identity, it's kind of ironic that the internet lets you slap a few words into a search engine, go looking for people whom you want to be like (or perhaps who you want to worship you) and form little cliques. That's why it's so escapist. The idealized planet where you are surrounded by aye-sayers exists, and it's all within a rectangular box that sits on your desk. And that's what's so frightening at the same time.

When we go online - we rarely have to deal with people who annoy us because running away is a lot easier online. It's easier not to read something on the screen than to shut out somebody's voice. We are complacent to homogeneity, despotic towards erraticism. But therein lies the danger - It's too easy to imagine meeting someone just like us and falling in love for eternity. Which is about as much fun as falling in love with a mirror. And bound to be just as painful in the end.

What is with this sleep cycle of mine? I had a whole... four more paragra

2002-10-27T16:55:00.000-08:00

Went stealth ninja today - brought my camera. Silly thing to do because I didn't actually take any pictures. There's nothing much to see anyway.

Downtown Kingston reminds me of my sister's 17th birthday cake. It was all cream and ick covering the top, so the only thing you ever noticed was the bottom layer. If you slice Kingston into biits, you'll notice that it's one of those tedious square affairs. I for one, have an issue with oblong cakes, which is all very well considering I've never had a birthday party before (exception - a cake which my mother got for my class on my brithday the first year I entered school. Small memories surface at the most inconvenient times - I only just recalled this thirty seconds ago and now I'm trying to remember what manner of cartoon they put atop the thing.)

I think it's a self preservation mechanism - I find the look of geometric food unappetizing - which explains why a chocolate bar has little appeal to me. I suppose when our ancestors were living in trees and chewing the odd carcass, they quickly learnt that eating angular objects is a good way to choke. I imagine an ancient grandfather of mine hacking a beak into his hand after a spate of melodramatic choking. As a result, I am drawn towards food in irregular shapes and roundness.

I'd like to think that this somehow affects how we shape our processed foods today. We eat noodles and find long thin strands appetizing because they remind us of worms. Similiarly, breakfast cereals tend to resemble bugs and bits of bark. But it's likely more a matter of convenience rather than presentation - only quirky pasta shapes spring to mind when I think of food engineered to look appetizing.

I'm also developing an odd affinity for soup. Soup is liquid and formless and it has things floating around in it to break the monotony. You don't need to masticate very much and with the exception of that fould-tasting split-chick-pea concoction Sodexho whipped up last thursday, it is palate-stimulating. I like salad for the same reason - there is no homogeneous taste. Processed food in Canada tends to the depressing - When you cook a batch of prcessed food product, all you're staring at is really 20 or so tablespoonfuls of blah. It may taste tolerable on the first bite, but the enjoyement you derive from any first bites quickly falls down some steep reverse exponential slope. Chocolate bars - seven to eight bites of unadulterated conformity and all the sugary stuff actually tastes the same - like sugar.

I'd write morel, but my body is giving me warning signals. I'd hate to drool all over the keyboard in my sleep..

2002-10-26T07:25:00.000-07:00

I love songs that tell a story. BUT.

Don't you loathe those songs which have a decent tune, and start out with a guy with a pretty decent voice... but eventually degenerate into a lot of hopeless lisping and gibberish? I really detest not knowing what the lyrics to this song are and it seems that NOBODY on Google knows of its existence. And the person who gave it to me who happily forgot WHERE she got it from. As a result - the usual improvisation and making up words on the spot follows as I try to get the lyrics:

Song "Untitled - by unknown author - Gypsy Caravan, Interim mix" (there is an album called gypsy caravan, but it's in ROMANIAN)
I'm leaving the mp3 up for a week or so - but I'll be taking it down, so grab it fast. If you can't load it, try pasting this:
http://www.fanaticwaltz.com/stuff/Gypsy%20Caravan%20-%20Interim%20Mix%20-%20Untitled.mp3

Lyrics I hear:

within the densest forest - where seldom people roam
a solitary figure departs the ancient's home
preparing his bestower of energy and light
the enigmatic traveller sets out into the night

Okay - the first line is just peachy-keen. Clear pronunciation and everything.

The wilderness uncharted, the pilgrim on his right?
blocked by? the need for contact, with hearts closely arrayed
His forethought? destination, enchanted and serene
is home to those in mourning for the dying fairy queen.

Now he starts mumbling. Consonant sounds PLEASE - did he just start slurring all his vowels?

He knows what lies in waiting, his passions do deny,
A mindset concentrating against the starry eye?
yet still his strong devotion is driven by desire
to place the mind in motion and set the heart on fire

He recovers temporarily. But just as I start thinking the song makes sense...

A Tem may stance? commences and some dig nothig states????
Enchantment of the senses beguiling the innate
an act in minor niten? to conjure from a dream
and give the unrequited unto the fairy queen

The chorus. Completely incomprehensible. I had to make up the words "nothig" and "niten" and "tem". I speculate "nothig" means "nothing to an earwig". "Niten" must be a german plural of "night". "T.E.M." stands for "Transmission Electron Microscope" and I must apologize if I can't quite see the relavance.

once in a while uncertain?, the sage cuts short his pace
now barely? up against him enshrouds this sacred place
the nymphs avow no trespass into this untouched state
the winds of change will blow him and won't disturb their fates

This... sort of makes sense if it wasn't for the fact that I'm no longer entirely sure of ANYTHING I hear. It sounds like he's singing through his nose.

but something underlying is stealing their control
the fairy queen lies dying, in by her sticky soul?
a toasty incantation is answering the call
and in her asphyxiation in breaking down that wall

Note that the last line drops all pretense of proper sentence structure. Perhaps the fairy queen lives in a chocolate house and the toasty incantation melted her wall and now she's asphyxiating in chocolate or something.

time and stance?? commences and some dig nothig states????
Enchantment of the senses beguiling the innate
an act in mind or niten? to conjure from a dream
and give the unrequited unto his fairy queen

There the chorus goes again. I tried to remove the "TEM", but this doesn't really make much sense even so. Why would you dig a nothig state?

the soaring blast awakened, the wound amidst the night
the mystic's wisdom taken, she keeps him in her sight
an enchantment still attracted, he stands beneath the skies
to give to him his magic and vanish from her eyes?

Okaaay. This seems to makes so much more sense compared to the previous lines, but it really doesn't. How does a wound awaken? And why does the last sentence seem to make absolutely no sense to this song? What exactly is the point of his journey if he wants to vanish from her eyes? Enigmatic stranger indeed.

time and stance commences and some dig nothig states????
Enchantment of the senses beguiling the innate
an act in mind or night and? to conjure from a dream
and give the unrequited unto this fairy queen

ARRRGH. I really hate this incessant mumblish! I've known people who could talk with their mouths full and sound clearer than this guy. As far as I know: there's an enigmatic stranger who leaves the house of ancients (whatever that is) carrying a hyperbolic excuse for a torchlight. He wants to visit this fairy queen and get the stars - probably ninja throwing shuriken - out of his eyes. But the fairy queen is stuck in a chocolate house and she's busy eating herself to death, so the nymphs refuse to let him see her until her cholestrol level drops. This makes him mad and he casts some incantation that melts her house and drowns her in chocolate. This makes him realize he's an idiot and now the suffocating fairy queen follows him everywhere (in a pile of chocolate). He wants his magic back so he can lose the scary broad, but it's trapped in that chocolate or something, but he refuses to touch her even though the chocolate beguiles him. This is because he is an earwig and the chocolate is nothing to him.

Could somebody PLEASE help me clarify?

2002-10-21T23:44:00.000-07:00

I'm very busy with midterms - hence don't expect much in the manner of updates to fanatic waltz or RF for at least the next week.

Still, keeping in trend with my promise of more random hour-long sketches/ideas per blog.

Budget-angel.

*vignette*
When the grand high deity was busy supplying wings, his sense of melodrama went a little overboard with the six wings to every seraphim and 100 to each cherubim thing (can you imagine the backache the 100 wings would cause?). Just as the grand high deity got around to creating the last angel, he ran out of haloes, wings, pretty harps and gossamer togas. Improvisation with duct tape, old motel towels, cardboard boxes and old coat-hangers followed, and budget-angel was born.

His flaming sword is a cigarette lighter on a stick... and his feet are covered in aluminium foil. He has the holy nimbus of two mini-maglights strapped to his head (not shown). Unfortunately, his holy mission is constantly hindered by the fact that nobody is able to take him seriously.

Special powers:
Can fly when it isn't raining.
Applies band-aids with a touch, and magically puts concealer over leprosy sores.
Can give demons a mild skin rash.
Angelic karaoke tape recorder.
Floats on water. (prone or supine!)
Divides bread and fish into smaller bits of bread and fish.
Turns water into ~~Coke~~ ~~Pepsi~~ Root Beer.
Delivers the post-it notes of god.
Perpetual depression.

I've been noticing the trend lately that all my characters are major dorks.

2002-10-18T13:48:00.000-07:00

Look - I need to rant. I'm sorry, but those of you who actually wanted to read something interesting should back off for a minute.

[rant]
I HATE DELL CANADA WITH ALL MY HEART AND SOUL. (all... *sniff*... two milligrams of it *sniff*)

So one month ago when I was a naive little gaijin (and I'm still without the piece of plastic 90% of North America is completely reliant upon) puttering around looking for a computer and thinking in my happy naive way that I could get what I wanted by calling them and placing an order. All would have been well, but for the fact that they needed a certified check with the order number and company name printed on it - Now for a certified check - they WILL print the company- but they will NOT print an order number in the top right of the cheque where the printer doesn't usually have any such facilities to do so. Needless to say - they called the bank manager over when I explained my predicament and she didn't understand it one bit either. Oh, believe me, the number of times I called Dell Canada - and when I got rebuked by "You can't write it there - we're ANAL and terrible people", I phoned the utter moron that placed my order (He wasn't availabe! Surprise! But he had an answering machine) and told him to cancel it on his answering machine.

I go through all the trouble of doing it the hard way and am repaid with a computer I actually like.

One month later, bastard calls me up and tells me "Ooh. we still haven't received a cheque from you". I told him I cancelled the order a long time ago. He tells me that "I never confirmed it with him vocally and he never received my message". I blew up. What a utterly UTTERLY pathetic attempt at self-defense. He accuses ME of not calling (which I BLOODY well know I did. All the stress at that time was causing me to sniffle into the phone) and CHEERFULLY HAS THE GUTS to tell me that "Oh - you'll still need to pay the 15% disassembly thingamajig". (My response to this... I haven't been this angry... or just plain angry in a VERY long time). The Chinese have an idiom "bu zhi xiu ci"... - not knowing any shame (or when to feel shame). I... *deep breath*

He had ONE BLEEDING MONTH (slightly more, actually) to call me and find out what was wrong. He SAID that he'd send people to come pick up the cheque, but they didn't come (thereby enabling me to tell them my situation). They never called my room to tell me I had visitors - so they obviously didn't try as hard as I did, if they tried at all. He has the guts to tell me I wasn't reliable or worthy of business? This big fat stinking hypocrite? I'm currently busy studying for my midterms and I don't have the time to f*ck around with this. But I know if they send me a bill or bother me again, I'm going to sue them... oh I am. How am I suppose to explain this to my parents? I don't NEED this.

FUCK you, Dell Canada.
[/rant]

2002-10-10T22:00:00.000-07:00

Read Johnny the Homicidal Maniac today. Am pleased to report that RF has recieved a top-down redesign with 90% less violence and airborne body parts. Much better and slightly more original.

My hands and feet are planning to freeze solid. Bitchbitcbitch. Other random news includes me giving my evil laugh of dork(tm) to a relatively innocent guy on way to the elevator shaft.

Dar: Hahahahar... I have the power of JUNK FOOD. Suffer!

He looked like a pekingese in a searchlight. One of those situations which leaves you thinking: Oh my god, I want a 10-foot magnifying glass. My floormates have taken to calling me "Evil Dar" to distinguish me from the nice art student next door (who is Nice Dar. He looks so innocent *whines* EvilPsyche: CORRUPTMWEHEHEHEH). They have their reasons, I'm sure, but I don't particularly see evil as something glamorous.

And now for opinionated webcomic review before I start work on RF:

I squish things.

Orient R, which I will pimp like a feather boa. Looking great, girl! Delicious colour schemes.

Weird GAY LOVE webcomic.

I got this off Zenith's links page - by far the most amusing of all the ones linked. Why? Well... the comic itself is pretty much a Christian Slater angst drama of one-liners, but the message forums are DROP-DEAD hilarious. They're full of obsessive fangirls and gay fanboys, which are a source of unending hormone schadenfruede. Not to mention that the author seems to draw another comic that looks like Buffy meeting the Naked Lunch in a Dadaist cafe (with milque-toast!).

Other comics that need no introduction:

Penny Arcade = still doesn't make much sense, characters still look like a bunch of xeroxed talking heads. But the linework is clean.. I'm guessing it was funny back when Sprite comics were all the rage.

Which leads to:

8 - bit theatre = the ex - officio original sprite comic. I used to like it, but I'm rapidly losing interest in it. The stereotypes are beginning.. to grate on my soul. Now the jokes can be broken down like this: Red mage is an out of character gaming geek! Fighter and Monk have no brains! Black mage is evil! Bad puns! Double takes! Pop culture references! Prove your geekish superiority by giving the author money!

Well, it was funny *nods* but please note the past tense. Even static characters have to be varied, like Calvin and Hobbes. And I can only take so much bad sprite art >_>;

Of course, there's the good old Sexy Losers. Oh well.

2002-10-05T00:40:00.000-07:00

I'll never be your Becca Ming

http://www.fanaticwaltz.com/art/Doug.jpg

Self-explanatory. Dang you, Terry Pratchett.

2002-09-30T13:33:00.000-07:00

Poutine. One word = GROSS.

And that's all for today.

2002-09-29T00:03:00.000-07:00

Yes, I should be asleep. No, I'm keeping today's piccie to myself.

Nevertheless, I listened to Brinson and went out and rented the Donnie Darko DVD. And amen for the DVD - "the philosophy of time travel" cleaned up so many questions I had. *spoiler alert* And they took out so many... important scenes! Donnie being impaled was ABSOLUTELY poignant. And the placebo thing - now THAT was significant.

Let it be said that I might like Donnie a lot, but my heart belongs to Cherita Chen forever and ever. Her dance of the autumn wind will not go unforgotten. As much as Brinson has a blind spot in her heart for twins, mine revolves around ostracized plump "dowdy" girls who are the personification of fluffy angst (and oh-so-cool). It's not their fault that society currently revolves around the anorexic look with big boobs and butts - If they were in Yang Gui-Fei's era, they'd be divine beauties. (Yes, there is beauty in plumpness, but not gross obeseness. There's a difference between fat and flab.) I was left wishing that Donnie really was right when he said that "One day, life will be a lot better for you, I promise". *sigh* Things never work that way. <--- Angst. Blame it on the alcohol. Perhaps alcohol in excess would make suicidally depressed. (Libido: Hey, I can't believe you're passing Jean Malone's character for Cherita Chen. Libido#2(the yaoi one): Donny's teachers are HOT. Mmm (Drew Barrymore).)

Although I really do love this movie, I can't help but feel they ripped off some part of it from Terry Pratchett's "Johnny and the Bomb" (from his "Johnny" series, which I consider to be better than his more popular Discworld novels), which I draw greatly from as inspiration (read: plagiarism with a candy coat) for Risk-Free. Mrs Tachyon and her shopping cart of time-travel are so much cooler than Grandma Death. Anyhow (faulty logic), Brinson, I watched the movie, so you owe me this book, at least. (One of three - Johnny and the dead, Only you can Save Mankind, Johnny and the Bomb.) Autism overkill. As a result, I now file this movie under the "morbid Calvin and Hobbes" section of my mind.

This movie made me depressed - mainly because I remember distinctly twelve years of Catholic/Methodist schooling - not speaking out at the lies your "moral betters" throw at you - because... if you didn't go down that path, life didn't really give you much of a comfortable future (or so I saw). And when I eventually did, it got me into trouble - and then I learnt how to shut up and fail alone. And now I'm in university - people don't do that as much anymore. It's CANADA. I might even get used to swearing.

(cut scene from movie)
Younger sister: "Why do I have to sleep with Donnie? He stinks"
Donnie: "When you fall asleep next to me tonight, I'm going to fuck your face."
YS: "I'm going to tell mommy."
Older sister: "No you're not. Don't go there."

*later*

YS: "Mommy, Donnie said that he's going to fart in my face."

Also - this movie was filmed in Los Angeles, but it said "Sarasota golf course". I'm all confused now.

Sorry, I've just been to a terrible party where one of my floormates tried to force an entire plastic cup of cranberry vodka cocktail down my throat (still NO beer and I'm NEVER doing that again). Ignore my ranting about the fat chick.

Interesting. So alcohol makes me use an overkill of brackets and italics. Considering I'm still sober enough to recite "Peter Piper", I wonder why I keep having weird mental images of finding a person's "drunken" point in some surreal titration experiment with a burette full of vodka (by asking them to recite tongue twisters after each drop?).

2002-09-25T17:45:00.000-07:00

Every toilet on my floor has a little sheet of printer paper tacked to the wall with masking tape - roughly about eye level when a person is sitting on the commode. It says "please do not dispose of sanitary products down the toilet". Fair enough. But why is there a smirking clown printed on it? Do clowns steal disposed sanitary products and grind them up to make lip rouge? Are clowns known to reprimand people who cause toilet backclogs?

My brother is the patron saint of inappropriate clipart. I still have fond memories of scrawling a composition all over a sheet of foolscap and sneaking it into his cluttered schoolbag between his essay pages, so that his teacher would receive a very... interesting thesis on what Mr. Lee the scoutmaster was actually doing to the scout troop on the goat farm; then realizing it was nowhere near as provoking as the picture of the man doing "I'm a little teapot" on the cover page. Checking in the MS Office folder, I'm amazed at the abundance of absolute trash you can find in there - it leads me to wonder why with all the geeks that can't be bothered to learn how to draw out there, nobody has bothered to do a Powerpoint clipart comic yet.

Actually, scrap that thought. His Powerpoint rendition of Star Wars was painful enough.

Now we all know the TRUE meaning of Christmas. Once a year, a fat man and his cohort of reindeer come down and gives all us good widdle kiddies the presents which our parents think we need. Then you give him milk and cookies. We have a similiar tradition here almost every week, where a drunken slob and his cohort of inebriated weirdos will materialize at ungodly hours in our common room and trample potato chips all over the floor (and possible hallway) and end up stumbling into the bathroom opposite my door and flooding the corridor with eau de toilet. In this case, I think what he needs is a arsenic-laced sixpack of Coors and a boot in the teeth. The funny bit is that everybody I've asked claims to know who he is, but nobody can give me any names.

So I'm compiling a small primer for Canadian undergrad first-years.

1) How to turn off a light switch: Using a dry hand, apply pressure on bottom of switch until "click" sound is heard.

2) How to eat potato chips on a couch: Open bag with scissors instead of trying to show off your stringy biceps. If scissors are not handy, teeth will do. Place hand in bag and remove a small amount of potato chips. Shake hand while in bag to discard residual cling-ons. Place chip in mouth and chew. Do not attempt to talk when chewing. If a significant amount of potato chip lands on the floor, apologize to all present. Get a broom or a vacuum cleaner (See part 3).

3) How to use a broom/vacuum cleaner: If using a vacuum cleaner, plug it into a nearby socket and turn it on. Move handle along floor in rhythmic motions. If still unsure, pretend you're wanking off. If unpenised, consult a janitor.

4) How to use a shower: Make sure shower curtain is INSIDE bathtub so that water does not end up on floor. A wet floor is not a happy floor. After bathing, rinse tub and clean up your own detritus (i.e. hair). If I find you, digusting woman who left that 2-cm scab with HAIR on it in the bathtub, I will force fifteen of those disgusting "Little Debbie" cakes down your throat.

5) How NOT to talk about your sexual exploits: Directly ouside my door.

Sadistic math homework made me cut this blog's picture short. It's about ten minutes of quickie "fill in the blanks". Will do a proper one as soon as I'm free.

2002-09-22T21:25:00.000-07:00

This is completely and entirely Lex's fault.

Giftart of Bi-way - Quite unsuitable for her webpage, but oh-so-fun to draw. I think this girl will need therapy when she gets older.

2002-09-22T00:34:00.000-07:00

Canadian Dorm life:

So I wake up at 1:34 a.m. in the morning and my thoat feels like somebody lined it with blotting paper. I go down five flights of stairs in slippers and cargo pants and spend ten blissful minutes punching random buttons on a vending machine in a futile attempt to get a decent drink. The mineral water tastes like plastic and nearly makes me throw up. I end up consuming something called "Minute Maid Lemonade (made from REAL LEMONS)" which dehydrates me even more and lives me feeling really pissed off.

I don't feel like hiking all the way back up, so I hitch a ride on the elevator and on the first floor, some guy carrying a chair comes in and presses the button for the fifth floor. He attempts to make small talk, blissfully unaware of the raging bundle of anger I am.

"So what floor are you on?"

I remain silent because any idiot who has taken this elevator before knows that the light for the fourth floor switch is broken. But nevertheless, blissfully unaware guy asks the question three times. Four. The elevator stops at the fourth floor and the doors open. I point at the sign with the big number 4 on it and make for the hallway, but not before he says, "Are you on the fourth floor?"

I know some professors say that there is no such thing as a stupid question, but if this wasn't stupid, it was at least slightly autistic. I lose my temper and hiss, "Of course, you twit! What a stupid question!". And stride out of the elevator into...

A coven of screeching hags. They immediately break out into laughter at my bad temper and mimic my expression of disgust, which is acerbated only by the fact that the two male members of the coven (doubtlessly out to get nookie(tm) ) are completely resilient to pointed hints.

Dar: "Are you guys drunk? Stop following me around"
Hag Coven (HC): "Hey we're not drunk. Maybe you're drunk Dar..."
Dar: "Go away! I need to take a shower and you guys aren't helping."
HC:" (pointed giggling) So.. have you finished your game yet? (Geek that I am, I had been playing Kingdom Hearts for 12 straight hours)"
Dar: "No. Now please go away."
One of the girls in the HC: " Hay Dar - who are you in a relationship with?"
Dar: "My computer. Now shut up and go away before I lose my temper. Must you bother me so?"
Another girl in the HC: " (more giggling) Hey! you're the guy in my Chem tutorial! You came late to class."
Dar: "Yes I did. Woe is me. So?"
Girl: "You disrupted my concentration. Now I won't be able to pass my Chemistry."
Dar: "I'm sorry. Perhaps you should try reading your textbook and taking notes. WHY are you guys bugging me?"
Yet another girl from HC: "(teasing) Because you're hot, Dar."
Dar: " Actually, I'm rather cold. Good night. (slams door)"

I won't go into details about them milling outside my door for the next ten minutes. Thankfully, they seem to have gone to sleep.

And the strangest bit is that these people are... incredibly friendly, nice and decent during the day and they didn't look drunk. *checks* No full moon tonight either. What is it about weekend nights that turns a bunch of ordinary people into a mob of raving lunatics?

(edit) Yow... before I forget - I'm almost done with tablet experimentation. I think I'm almost ready to strike *evil grin*.

2002-09-20T21:57:00.000-07:00

*ahem* I'll like to extend a warm welcome to drouillard and get a few things clear about my personal misanthropy. I'm not sure if there's a canonical "misanthrope's guide" out there, and perhaps I'm not following it too well.

I am a misanthrope, but I'm not into self-denial. Whether Halloween is great or not - I don' t know. Consider the fact that I have never experienced a single halloween or thanksgiving in my life. I am not from a culture that endoreses it.. What I DO know is that I think it looks fun. People get to dress up all gothy (without the stigma of being a depressed goth), you walk down dark streets with freaky candlelit pumpkins and people give you candy. It doesn't have many religious connotations, preachy morals or a profound meaning. That sounds pretty much fun to me. And I will NOT judge until I have had further experience. It's like any scientific hypothesis - you develope one, but if you're going to strut around asserting that it is correct without any testing, you deserve a good smack to the head from reality. I try to speak from experience whenever possible, and when I do rant, rest assured that I am imparting nothing other than my (bigoted) view on firsthand experience.

I am a misanthrope - I hate the popular conception of humanity. I am not above my own judgment either - I am flawed. I do not think that being a misanthrope somehow makes me more enlightened or better than others - if anything, I desperately want to love people. I want to believe in the human race, even as it hurtles down the path to oblivion. But it's hard. I still judge people, but I respect their personal boundaries as long as they respect mine. Rap music - I think it sucks, and will share that opinion with others. Yet, I will restrain myself to bitching about rap music to the sympathetic unless it is unavoidably encroaching on my private space.

Yes, I do like some people. I do believe strongly in certain people, whom I have the priviledge to call friends. Even a handful which I do not. Any human being that possesses a brain, uses it and is willing to listen (and this is important) as much as they are willing to share is worthy of respect. I love them, but I do not deify them. Yet, this is not enough to turn me into a rabid philanthrope. I do not hate the deficient person. I hate the deficient person that will not listen, will not learn, will not try to change.

Hmm... well, I'm waffling. I'll try to make this easy to understand: We all have our opinions. It's what gives us personality and stops us from being human cardboard. But we need to realise that we have room for error, without being too spineless. We need to be introspective, but not take ourselves too seriously. We need to listen as much as we speak. We need to help as much as we condemn. It's all like one huge juggling act - I am not good at it, and sometimes it frankly is very tiring to keep all the balls in the air - but I try.

But too often... people don't even bother - because it's so much easier not to. It's so much easier to judge blindly. So much easier to slap a label on me because I have a penis and call me a "man". And then we know - ah, I must like this. I must do that. You see - normal men do and I am obviously a man, no? So when I'm not, I must not be a man. Frankly, from the popular definition of "man", I think that's a compliment. And I'm flawed - I do it too. It's so much easier for me to slap a label on other people and call them "humans"/"hoi polloi", no? (amen that the people I call friends have the ability to tolerate me and distinguish between a sweeping statement and a personal remark)

Now that's what makes me a misanthrope. But I am willing to apologize for my judgment, admit my stupidity and piggishness, learn about people, and to give people their due respect. Does that make me a flawed misanthrope? Perhaps, but I never claimed to want to be one.

2002-09-19T01:03:00.000-07:00

Well, it looks like YQ was right after all. I AM a misanthrope. In a land where people are dreadfully polite and congenial, I have managed to get peeved, frustrated and annoyed.

I identify with this too much for my own good.

Perhaps it's because I went about reading for feminist literature today. Now I dislike people who say that "all men are created equal" or hack up the old "both genders are equal" line. No they're not, no matter how much we want to keep in that happy little bubble, the best we can ever give is the benefit of the doubt. The person born a paraplegic vegetable is not equal to the person born with a fricking golden spoon in every orifice of his body. Men are physically stronger than women on average, but they also tend to die faster - otherwise PLEASE find a national sport where men and women are both allowed in the same leagues professionally. All humans are NOT equal, so stop repeating your anthrophilic crap to me because I'm getting sick up to here *indicates* with your platitudes. I've even had people adding up the pros and cons of each gender and feeling somehow that they were perfectly balanced. No they're not. And society is a step towards ensuring that it will never be this way.

I dislike women. I dislike men too. The truth is that if I have to make a comparision, the gender I dislike more will inevitably be the one with the annoying member that has had the closest proximity/greatest/most recent effect on me - mentally or physically.

Note number two: I've given up on parties. They're just NOT FUN. I can only say "I'm Dar, I'm blah blah from the other side of the world blah blah" so many times before I get figgin' bored. People don't react well when you start a conversation with "Why are canadian dimes smaller than the nickels?" or "Don't you think that necrophilia would solve many overhyped melodramatic movies?". They giggle a lot. The conversation has to go:

A:"I like dogs, macaroni, pigtails, lightbulbs, *some random TV show*".
B:"Oh, I like that too!... Blah blah blah blah"

Now this is fine and dandy, but I don't have the patience for it because only about 3% of the Canadian populace in my dorm have watched an anime that is not Sailor Moon/ Dragonball Z / something by CLAMP or played any Computer games or RPGs past FPS shooters and the occasional "I love Warcraft" people (STAY AWAY or I will hex Blizzard so that your next stupid 'real-time strategy game' instalment comes out in the year 4219). My knowledge of current popular culture extends to the fact that 1) there is someone called Britney Spears and 2) she is not a very good singer.

Aaaargh... I'm just the same old Dar. Less to be angry about, but still finding a cause. *frustration*

2002-09-18T21:24:00.000-07:00

I've finally decided on a site mascot. There are too many psychotic girls out there... so I came up with delerium boy. I'll sketch him tomorrow, but alas... photoshop calls. The days are, as usual, cold, uneventful and full of giggling girls. I'm beginning to loathe the double-X chromosome. (No offense to those of you who happen to be female and don't spend an eternity in front of the telly or in hallways (at ungodly hours) giggling and who refuse to admit that "Sex in the City" is just soft-pornography aimed at females.

I notice that there ALWAYS happen to be four of them and they're always sitting around at cafe tables and bitching instead of playing mah-jong or bridge like any decent Joy Luck club member would. I think the oldest example would be the Golden Girls... but I'm sure very few of us actually wanted to see any of them naked.

Scrap that. I have a soft spot for the golden girls. Especially Rose, the geriatric dyke.

I think the reason why I dislike the show mildy is because the main character looks like Julia Roberts (hissssss). On her behalf, she has this fantastic head of chameleonic hair - it turns from blonde to brown when wet! Now that's COOL. Like one of those gimmicky Transformers that I used to immerse in near-boiling water (don't ask).

And no, I do not approve of overuse of the word "like", Miss Canonical Toronto Star newspaper journalist. It suggests the mental inability to master English to the point where words like "about" and "for example" can be used. Why should language have to change to accommodate the lowest common denominator? You might as well revert to fuckspeech, where almost every proper noun, adjective and adverb is replaced or joined by an expletive.

Example:
"The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog"

fuckspeech:
"The fucking-quick fucked-up dipshit of a fox(lit: fuck) fucking fucked over the fucking cock-dog(lit: fuck)"

Not very helpful, but I'm sure it's evocative and yes, I have heard people speak like that. Eventually we'll all get to the point where dictionary is one page thick and only has one entry under "F". At which point, we will have reached Terry-Pratchett orangutan librarian status. Like, I'm not saying, like, the word, "like" like should be, like removed, like from everyday speech, like, but I think, like, it can, like, become, like, very, like, annoying, like, quickly, like.

Priorities:
-laundry
-study study study
-work at mastering tablet
-remembering to eat
-work on website

2002-09-16T10:48:00.000-07:00

You know... I just had a funny thought. Ethanol makes you high; so does ethanoic acid make you more sober? That might explain my manic irritation (Yes, one of the byproducts of heightened sobriety is irritation.). Some mornings I just wake up and give people what my mother calls the "funny look". It's half-slitted eyes that isn't quite a frown, but can quickly turn into one by creasing the brow. Sort of like "don't make me come over there."

It's all the fault of telling someone I could down half a glass of vinegar last night (just to prove a point that I love vinegar - not to brag). So he wanted me to do it. Silly twat that I am, I did. It wasn't bad, but my throat had a slight burning feeling and the burning continues all the way to the stomach and stays there. It's like the burning feeling after you take a shot of brandy, except it lasts a LOT longer. It was a cold night, so I enjoyed myself. But the other people were all goggle-eyed. I don't understand... it's easy compared to eating a raw onion (which I can't despite my love for onions); or eating a raw egg (YUCK).

I have to re-adjust my disgust-o-meter for eatable items. (note that "edible" isn't the same as "eatable". Bugs and stuff do not count. Only stuff you find in the fridge)
terrible dietary habit scale (1 being least disgusting)

New gaijin disgust-o'-diet meter (feel free to correct)
1- Ketchup in Ovaltine/Milo or clove of garlic
2- Fruitopia drink with that cranberry, apple and pineapple flavour in it.
3- Raw bacon
4- Chocolate sauce on steak (and yet, people do this. Masochists.)
5- Raw egg
6- Table vinegar (half glass)
7- Raw onion
8- Heaped spoon of wasabi
9- Sardines someone left in an open can at the back of the fridge for three weeks or more.
10- Glass of lard (And no, nothing FDA approved could possibly be more disgusting than the glass of lard)

And as for anger-control, I was singing this in my head all day. It's partially the coyote incident's fault really - I was singing this about six times a day after *that* angsty period. But I still like it - it's not really an angsty... or even hateful song...

If you were to kill me now
Right here I would still
Look you in the eye

And I would burn myself
Into your memory
As long as you were still alive

I would not run
I would not turn
I would not hide

I would live inside of you
I'd make you wear me
Like a scar

And I would burn myself
Into your memory
And run through everything you are.

I would not run
I would not turn
I would not hide

Look me in the eye
In the eye

-"In the Eye", Suzanne Vega

2002-09-15T07:36:00.000-07:00

Kingston's student population is only outnumbered by it's squirrel population. Yet, I haven't seen a single dessicated little squirrel corpse, and believe you me, I've been trying. Perhaps they have a secret squirrel graveyard or something - full of nuts and acorns and the bleached bones of five hundred years of squirrrels.

Perhaps the Kingston muncipal cleaners beat me to them. Damn you, muncipal cleaners!

My main problem with Kingston is a complete inability to find a SINGLE video game store. Which means that ten hours of hiking uptown and downtown in my floofy black ski-pants has only brought me a thorough understanding of the canadian soft drink industry. To summarize - there are only five kinds of pop. Coke, 7-up/sprite, root beer and some hideous substance called "Mello Yellow" which tastes not unlike sucking on a sugar-coated kumquat. Secondly, anything that isn't fizzy (and therefore ins't pop) is called "juice", even if it happens to be a bottle of mineral water. The current brand of choice is something called "Fruitopia", which translates to "Gay paradise". Obviously a product of Vancouver or San Francisco. (My advice: Avoid anything with pineapple in it. Their pineapple flavouring is loathsome. The strawberry is passable though.)

Also, I have located a video store with an adult section! Horrors! Unfortunately, I was too busy scanning the PS section and trying to find a DVD version of "L.A. Confidential", and by the time I remembered about the pr0n, I was four blocks down the road. Proving once again my thorough geekiness. Oh well; people already have a hard time believing I'm 21 as it is.

Bonus discovery points - to be traded in for self-indulgent spending sprees
Located:
-Art supply store
-Costume store

I'm all excited for Halloween. I think I'm going to dress up as Jean-Chretien. That should scare HORSEBUCKETS of candy out of the liberals here.

2002-09-13T14:17:00.000-07:00

Gaijin in Canada.

Yes, I am keeping a diary and no, you can't read it. It's full of lecture notes that I have to copy into a more permanent form this weekend.
So a summary of things that have happened (all in the diary):

-Took plane to Canada, swore an oath never to try to carry fifty kilos of luggage halfway across the world by myself again.

-Toronto didn't smell of garbage and no, people at Narita airport can't really speak English.

-Kingston is a nice place. I suspect it has a squirrel population that runs in the thousands, possibly outnumbering the students on campus. I haven't seen a single moose.

-I learnt what a Canadian Tire Dollar was and what "Red Rover" is. But no, I need my wrists to oekaki, thank you.

-Dell Canada hates foreigners. If you want to do anything right, you've got to do it yourself.

Orientation week was terrible. Apparently, university involves shouting, beer and loathsome freestyle rap music. There is nothing possibly worse than rap music at a hundred decibels, except possibly seeing people trying to dance to freestyle rap music at 100 dB.

Instructions for being a freestyle rapper:

1)Say whatever rubbish that comes into the top of your mind. Speckle with easily rhymed words. If you can't rhyme, at least make sure the last words have the same number of syllables.

2)Jiggle and go "unh, unh, yeah, yeah".

3)Go "Wo-ooaahoo-oooyeaah" (Optional. Recommended for female use only.)

Then there was Chinese-Torontonian-guy. He who said "I like freestyle rap because it takes talent". (Toronto is this city that is apparently populated entirely by Cantonese people, striking union workers and Dell anal-retentive customer-support technicians. It is not a happy place.)

Other random babble: the weather seems to alternate between stiflingly warm and frigid. I wish it'd make it's bloody mind up already. It's either fall, or it's not-fall. You shouldn't try to have both at the same time, capice?

And on another note. Now that I've actually finished reading everyone's blogs, I want you to KICK me hard if I ever start talking about politics or religion after this. But here goes:

September 11 is a date that occurs every year. It unfortunately happened to be the date a bunch of idiotic burqa-fanciers decided to crash two planes into the blah blah blah, thereby ensuring that I would be able to get five year's worth of human interest stories in two days. And for the next six months afterwards.

Satire aside, I do still feel sorry for the Americans, but I wish somebody would slap George Bush everytime he indirectly posits that the world revolves around America. But my method for solving the Middle-east crisis involves blasting Israel off the map. I don't think people are asking the right questions. Why is there a crisis? Because of religion. All the biggest and bloodiest wars have been caused by religion or doctrine. Now do you understand why I'm an anarchist?

People don't have to be told what to believe. That's something they have to decide themselves and that's where responsibility comes in. You are ultimately responsible for your own actions. As people say: True religion is an individual thing. And I hate religion with all my heart and soul because of it telling people what to do in an (to use the term ironically) canonical sense. When I was eight, I read the Bible. And this wonderful book told me: Woe is me, for I am unholy from the moment I am born. Before drawing my first breath, I am unclean. When I was ten, I postulated this question to a Christian preacher and asked "If there was a person who was good and saintly in manner, but wasn't given any chance to know God (perhaps because he lived on a small island without bibles) and he died, would he go to heaven? (In other words; is it NECESSARY to worship God?)

He said "no". Reason? "Good is defined by knowing and loving God".

I don't know, but that sounds frighteningly like the terrorist's point of view to me. What it taught me is that: God is not infalliable. He is not all-good and saintly. That God was a vain egotistical jerk prone to jealous and childish fits of rage, all for the reason "I created you". There are stories of children with terrible abusive parents. Do those parents deserve love? Is God so malignant as to damn people to eternal suffering and then throw an eternal big party for all his butt-suckers?

At that point, I wrote a short story about choosing hell over heaven. I think that I sincerely would. My parents aren't Christian. Many of my friends aren't Christian. If you're going to expect me to be happy-happy-joyful while people I love are burning in some pit, you are one SICK bastard.

And the reason why people fly planes into buildings is because they were told what to think from a young age. They weren't given a choice. There isn't much difference between a terrorist cult and a jehovah's witness, or a televangelist. Please don't start lapsing into sorrow and anger and whatnot... all directed at a political view. It was never political. Don't be stupidly politically correct: The war against terrorism IS a war against religion (but not in the same way that idiot Bush defines it). So somebody... anybody, please burn the proselytizers before it's too late.

And if you are some person I don't know... who is religiously dogmatic and reading this; please think about it.

2002-09-12T16:22:00.000-07:00

So. I'm NOT dead.

Oh well.

I'll post a longer blog later, but one of the problems with new computer syndrome is that it's terrible when combined with computer deprivation syndrome. This is NOT going to help my 8:30 classes. Miss all you guys and stuff. Cheerio!

2002-08-31T02:19:00.000-07:00

It's getting dark... I leave at 7:45 a.m. When I next see the sun.

I'm sitting in front of the computer and I'm reflecting. It's poignant and it stings a lot, because I realize that this is the last day, the conclusion of an episode of my life with my parents. From here on, it's just me and myself - not that that's ever been a problem, it's just that no matter how far I travelled or how long I left, I always had a home base to return to. Where I could destress, I could do what I wanted, I could find understanding within and without myself.

Now I'm leaving for Canada and I know that you're supposed to enjoy yourself on your orientation week. Perhaps it will be partly homesickness, but more than anything, I miss the days with my friends... how I wanted those slow days to last forever. I miss innocence, not having to confront the ugly face of sex and capitalism. But perhaps that is overrated. I don't trust my feelings. Time warps things horribly.

I'm moving forwards. What lies ahead, I don't know. What am I expecting? I said, don't know. Who will I meet? Je sais pas. Where will I end up? Wo bu zhi dao. When will it begin? Boku shiranai da ne.

It's exciting? I can feel the part of me that wants to jump up and down in front of the window seat and take pictures on the coach. But that's feeling again. I don't like feeling too much. I recover easily from disappointment and tragedy, but I'd still rather not, because it makes me clingy and irrational. I hate feeling. I remember how much I hated life back then, how much angst I put myself through. All the fault of feeling. But without feeling, I don't think I'd ever have enjoyed myself.

Thought versus emotion. That's been my story.

Thanks for being with me; even if only for a little part of the way. 'Till we meet again.

2002-08-30T10:13:00.000-07:00

Oh, and a short ramble about nice things to counter bitchrant:

I shouldn't have judged Initial D by the character art (which is still appalling). The storyboarding is really quite good. I didn't realize it until I went through it with a fine-toothed comb.

The other thing:
I think I've fallen in love with the teaser of Star Racer Molly. Beautiful. Designs. French. Ate...my...brain. Why has Lex not told us anything about this yet? (It's presumptuous, but I think that this is exactly the kind of thing that she'd like). For goodness' sake, I downloaded this using a 56k modem despite having seen it before. Watch or I'll bite you.

Can somebody tell me HOW to get the show when it comes out? Perhaps in Canada..? I'd learn French and start watching TV just to catch it.

2002-08-30T09:37:00.000-07:00

I take back everything nasty I ever said about the Canadian International Centre. There is no point being mean and humorless when they really are wonderful people with enough common sense and generosity to let me move in early (Sunday 11 p.m.) at no extra charge; and when there are apparently university graduates out there who still haven't learnt how to conjugate verbs.

I think I've forgotten how fantastic Canadian people were in the six years Vancouver was left behind. Sincerity is a rare commodity.

Singapore bitchrant:

I will never get used to the attitude of Singaporeans. Despite having lived here for twenty-one years.

For transit purposes, most Singaporeans use a TransitLink card. This is a card with a stored cash value that we insert into electronic readers on buses and trains when take public transport (which is hideously effective and efficient). In order to refill these cards, we get into a queue (read: line) at any major shuttle train depot and let an underpaid civil service worker top-up our cards in exchange for cash.

This process takes approximately ten seconds if you have the money and card ready. Nevertheless, there are shticks who will insist in holding up the twenty-person long queue for incredible amounts of time. For no good reason.

Thus, today, I encountered Frump-from-Hell.

She was wearing a dark blue low-quality chinese-slave-labour T-shirt that proudly identified herself as an employee of some minimum-wage electronics factory. She was carrying twelve cards on her person and trying to top them all up individually. Her age was indeterminate, because she was a wizened shrivelled-up prune of human characteristics that possessed a mongoloid protruding forehead.

Frump-from-Hell stood up the line for fifteen minutes. Pestering poor underpaid civil service worker with her shrill cries and nags for receipts (usually not tendered) for each and every card - criticizing and confusing added amounts.

Whoosh - one train goes by. The queue starts shuffling its collective feet.

Whoosh... there goes another. Finally, the clerk's patience snaps and she points to the sign pasted in large letters on her window: "Maximum of three transactions per person ONLY". Frump-from-Hell refuses to accept this and spends another two minutes arguing with the clerk.

She leaves, without so much as an apologetic nod, and a collective sigh is heard from the queue. The line lurches forward at a relatively breakneck speed.

Then she reappears. And ambles right up to the unsuspecting shy lady in front of me and pesters her to perform a transaction for her. The lady is unwilling, but generally a nice person, so she feels a bit churlish. At that point, Frump-from-Hell says in Chinese: "But I'll miss the next train".

My patience finally snaps. I loudly shout "Have you absolutely no shame?" in Chinese, loud enough to make the irritable housewife behind me jump. People stare. Frump-from-Hell gives me a dirty look and slinks away, defeated. Not to the end of the line, mind you, but probably just so that she can pester another person to do her filthy deeds for her once I have left.

Perhaps I really am a antisocial jerk, but I DO think I have a cause.

2002-08-28T16:05:00.000-07:00

Thursday, Friday, Saturday.

That's three. I'm considering changing to a new blog, but I don't see the point.

Speaking of which, in a reply to weird ICQ girl, the reason why the links on the left are a horrible colour is because they are for my use and not really yours. This entire blog is where I put the crap of my being so I don't have to be that way for the rest of the day. If they turn a horrible shade of clashing grey, that means I haven't visited the blog in some time and that I should do something about that before my eyes start tearing up. If you have the free time to come here, I suggest you do yourself a favour and try the links out. They're really quite good.

The real reason is that I'm apathetic and postponing actually doing things until I get full tablet capabilities - I have defined that as the poin in my life where everything gets solved. Untrue, but it keeps me looking forward.

Speaking of which, I got the tablet back today. I'd name it in an attempt to be facetious, but I don't personify my writing implements.

2002-08-27T08:38:00.000-07:00

Gaijin in Canada pre-arrival instalment 1.

I've decided I have complete contempt for the International Centre'sguides.

B) Products in stores will have PRICE TAGS on them and the price on the tag is the price you must pay to buy the item. There is also TAX on everything you buy, so the price you actually have to pay is the price tag price plus 15 percent.

C) Objects in Canada fall DOWN if unsupported. This is because of something called GRAVITY, which is very complex and hard to explain. This is why you should attempt to stand balanced on your LEGS all the time, because the floor is very DIRTY. Next up, how to breathe.

I don't know about you, but I believe that anyone who actually needs to be told that kind of advice shouldn't be let into university. I'm trying very hard to think of what kind of person would require this advice and have narrowed it down to 1) People from Cuba and 2) Neolithic ape-men trapped in icebergs for thousands of millenia.

In other news: Done packing. Done with accounts. Good god, I'm almost ready to go to Canada.

2002-08-27T00:29:00.000-07:00

Trying desperately to regain my writing skills before I hit college. This has put me into vomiting pedant mode. I am annoyed with myself.

I haven't written anything in six months, so I tried writing an essay (in an email! Horror!) yesterday... and it sucked.

I'm still trying to figure out what the heck made me press the "send" button. Leave strange people alone, Dar.

Pedantic humour is dangerous, as Fowlers says, because while you may be lauded at home for your perspicacity (your family has to put up with you after all), you become a tiresome bore when you do this outside that community. I shall henceforth make an attempt to suppress this to the best of my ability and save it for college essays, where I can nitpick all I want.

I admire Fowler very much for this line:

"Pedantry may be defined, for the purpose of this book, as the saying of things in a language so learned or so demonstratively accurate as to imply a slur on the generality, who are not capable or not desirous of such displays".

Hoo boy, no. When I write, the purpose is to communicate. I normally have no respect for perfect synonyms, especially learned ones and I'm not an elitist (as I have discussed before) simply because I do not make the cut.

General rules (Not canonical. For my reference only):

- If it has four syllables or more and isn't in a form prone to extension (such as mathematically or demonstratively), nor scientific, take caution.

- If I at any point decide to be etymologically facetious, I should not expect people to "get it".

- I have good punctuation except for the careless disregard for the hyphen to link words.

- Do not point out the difference between "which" and "that" to people. They will not appreciate it.

- I am only allowed to scream whenever I see "effect" and "affect" mixed up, "they're" and "their", or other awful malapropisms. This includes "anyways", for which I am allowed to track down Squaresoft's translator and bitchslap him.

- I will not allow myself to comment on horribly written fanfiction. I will resist the urge to go through it with a red pen. I will not read it and complain, except to the sympathetic (rare).

- If I get annoyed at someone - use the "I Chinese. No speak Ingrish" conversation stopper.

- I will try not to write an essay on "how to write good fanfiction/how to use grammar". That should be left to pedantic female English teachers with too much time on their hands.

- I will force myself to write fanfiction, to be fair. But only once.

2002-08-25T10:31:00.000-07:00

List of sharp or dangerous objects that I have slept on recently:

-Pair of scissors.
-Pair of chopsticks. The sharp ones.
-Shaving razor (I don't shave since I have little/no facial hair - was contemplating its use.)
-Uncapped Pilot V7 Tecpoint - used for inking
-four G pen nibs, still in packaging.
-dinner forks (for late-night Ghetto 'ghetti)
-countless mechanical pencils.
-several small screws - used for fastening shelves to walls.
-glass Gatorade bottle. (lemon flavour)

Packing is hell - my room is a total and complete mess. And I've dumped the razor - I'm not going to require shaving anytime soon. They probably wouldn't let me carry it on the plane anyway because goodness knows, I might attempt to hold up the plane with a rusty army-issue Gilette safety razor and attempt to fly it into a national landmark. What a story that would make!

Things I have decided to pack:

Books:

- Guilty gear X drafting artworks. Because I can't live without it.
- Xenogears perfect works. More art stuff - and I can thrust naked Elly at people who try to hit on me, thus annoying them.
- Messrs Lewis Carroll and Oscar Wilde are not coming along because I can get copies over there. I've decided to pack only chinese and Japanese stuff.
- Yaoi doujin to be placed in box and marked for shipping and to be handed out as gifts or auctioned to highest bidder.
- Same with One Piece artbooks and stuff. OP doujin promised to Sair.

CDs and technostuff:

- Pop n' Music stuff, ABBA compilation (not the A-teens *vomits*), Nik Kershaw, Suzanne Vega, Alanis and perhaps Lorena McKennit.
- Tablet with Painter Classic CD and Photoshop 6.0 (Wealthy friend's old version. The slut has 7.0 now)
- Perhaps Neverwinter nights. But do I still want a social life? I've left it with YQ since he'll be in Califon'.
- MD player, once I get the screws back in.
- PS2? I may ship this. Argh.

Clothes and conveniences:
- All my threadbare but oh-so-comfy t-shirts (none of which have a facetious message past "Calvin Klein Jeans". I'm so proud.).
- horrible red tie and satiny long-sleeved grunge outfit - since I don't understand what "semiformal" means.
- Eye-searing orange shirt. For when I want attention.
- Winter coats and thermal undies. I love thermal undies even if they make me look geriatric. Comfy comfy comfy! Screw other people - I'd wear them everywhere in winter.
- Horrible wooly itchy mittens of Dexterity -5 (note to self: get proper gloves as soon as possible)
- Mutilated army uniform, fingerless pleather gloves and two pairs of army boots (I love army boots.).
- miscellaneous underwear and socks (All white as driven snow. Yay.)
- bed linen. (I should buy pillows over there. Ironic, really - I NEED two pillows to sleep, but I don't need a bed.)

Other stuff:
- Aforementioned sharp chopsticks. Chopsticks should always be metal-tipped. I wonder if they think I'll hold up a plane with those?
- Miscellaneous temporary stationery.
- Gigantic 20-year old pink Bunny (to be carried or in hand luggage). Thanks, Sis.
- Towel. Thanks, Douglas Adams!

*whew*. I think I'm done.

2002-08-24T00:28:00.000-07:00

I rarely talk about dreams because they always become the same one.

I must confess that much like Lex - I've always wanted to fly - difference being that I'm nowhere near as obsessive about it, and I actually want fuctional wings (something I've written in every psychlogical test they put me through - Freud says that dreams about flying mean you're dreaming of having sex, but I think that Freud was a dirty old pathetic man). It's not really flying unless you can feel the slipstream through your hair. With all these new fangled planes, it's kinda impossible because the near-mach-force wind would make your cheeks look like a chipmunk.

So I start dreaming my weird little R.E.M. dreams, and unlike other people, after two minutes or so of dream time, some part of my conscious kicks my subconscious aside and yells: "Hoy - you're dreaming again!". At which point, I rationalize that since it's my reality, my dream, my mind, I can control every bit of it. This is completely untrue... I can't smite people with meteors and I can't cause small countries to spontaneously implode - there's this actual tangible barrier in my mind that I can feel (weird, huh?) that stops me from being able to do these things. But what I have learnt to do is to concentrate very hard and fly. Despite my fear of heights.

And that's ultracool because while I'm flying, my senses let me feel the wind all about me - I can see the imaginary people down below and they're all oblivious to me. The problem is that it's not perfect - I sometimes "forget" how to control myself (if I'm not concentrating) and fall for hundreds of feet before remembering; that this for some reason never lasts long - after I gain small control over a dream, I wake up within another five minutes or so of dream time; and lastly - it's not real and probably will never be.

The only other thing I've learnt to do in dreams is to turn myself invisible (this is a lot easier than flying). Which used to be very helpful in nightmares, but now I've learnt how to fly in them, I can just fly away from the monsters because there are rarely any in the sky. (except for that one dream with this huge floating monster the size of a small island - but it was slooow). And I know that these are acquired abilities because they consistently and persistently happen every time I dream.

I think I learnt how to do this two years ago, after watching a very bad B-movie and mentally preparing myself for the dream before I went to bed. I'm just wondering - if there are other people out there who have somehow learnt a form of dream control. Perhaps there are books on the subject? I think I'll check.

2002-08-22T15:07:00.000-07:00

"Only the shallow know everything about themselves" - Wilde

It's quite true... I only hurt vicariously when my friends do and even then... it's not physical.

I mean... I could step on somebody's toes and cause them intense pain and suffering and I wouldn't feel a thing. The pain signals don't jump to me, they won't hit you if you apologize (legal issues) and I wouldn't really care. I suppose that makes me a terrible person.

There are people out there starving to death in godforsaken third world countries, people who are on perpetual life support and in terrible pain every waking moment of their lives and I don't feel any of that. No guilt either - 'tis not my job to shoulder responsibility. I don't know why every time I talk to him, he makes me out to be a complete misanthrope because of that. I feel indignant, but I can't deny this - somehow, I feel that caring for people I've never been introduced to makes me more humane.

As he put it to me - there's the simple test with the "everyone has a button, if someone presses the button, he dies - but if nobody presses a button, everyone dies." Well, in normal circumstances, I realize that I'm actually the kind of person that would reach over and press the other person's button for him, then beat the living daylights out of the examiner for putting me in such a stupidly fabricated psychological test. No guilt. I think this shows my self-esteem has moved to healthier levels ever since I stopped thinking that I WAS my art, my grades, my appearance, my weight, etcetra.

That leads me to conclude that if there was someone in this world, or perhaps two, three or even an entire country of people in constant and grevious pain because of me - I wouldn't give half a thought to it unless there was some reward involved. He says I'm bad with people because I tell them just that - in all frankness. Anyway, they could go on suffering as long as they don't bother me about it. (Afterthought: WHAT is it with their bloody american english and their tendency to make "anyways"(sic) a word? It sounds TERRIBLE when spoken, it looks revolting in type, it really doesn't mean anything different from "anyway" and when yet in every single North American RPG translated since 1998, I have seen this disgusting redundant "s" appended on to it like a drooping mouldy tumour. I hate it! I loathe it! I abhor, resent, despise, disdain, shun it!)

But... I would probably do anything to protect the things I care for. Which is why I'm so goddamn picky. Which is a result of hermitism. (Don't get me wrong though - if I pick this reason while playing an RPG, I'm just trying to get the sappy ending. If I had insane ass-kicking powers, I wouldn't need to rationalize my ass-kicking, which would be random and mostly arbitrary. The only reason why I mop up the final boss is: because I can.)

My idea of the perfect RPG (And hence my manga plot) is where I systematically take over the entire world and beat the heck out of annoying shopkeepers who refuse to give you their supply of infinite cash and goodies for free. (Look at it this way: they'd still have charged you an exorbitant amount of money if you were trying to save the world - because they're equally unscrupulous and they know that your hero is completely wet and in need of a good smack.)

And yet... I suffer from the incredibly stupid and inane belief that nice things will happen if I'm generally nice. Why?

2002-08-22T14:20:00.000-07:00

I feel dead.

Somebody - give me direction.

2002-08-21T00:39:00.000-07:00

I can't just draw pretty people all the time... I need to practice ugly people, old people and fat people too.

Oh the things that I do that nobody sees
when I spawl on the floor and I crawl on my knees
and I contemplate paying university fees;
It's really most very frustrating.

For I stick to the floor like a flaccid wet rug
and I look all the world like a lam'nated bug
- it looks like I've taken some powerful drug
Or have done some frantic masturbating.

But it has nothing to do with any depravity
I'll try to explain in the most lucid brevity:
It's the fault of the earth's most peculiar gravity
which seems to double when I'm prone.

Now it looks like I don't require a Bankohan
it appears that I'll forfeit my nice asa gohan
- I'll have to postpone my trip out to see Rodin
since I'm sessile and do naught but groan.

2002-08-20T04:01:00.000-07:00

Kunika's palace of pr0n is up. Visit or I'll bite you.

You can even glance at pre-correction giftart Kash there and see how I gave him mumps. (yes, I correct my art once in a blue moon to make myself feel happier). This is why I hate leaving a *.jpg trail on the net.

Other thoughts:

- 18+ adults-only section? Well, I suppose it's safe to put it that way. Looks more PG-16 to me O_o;
- I need to draw more. Other people's webpages make me want to doodle all over my hand.
- Kunika is bad liar. Poor artist my foot. *sneh*
- Why is there no convenient way to get back to the main art menu? O_o;

Other personal stuff:

I've been in an art slump ever since I got back from ditchwater country. And not entirely mentally sound either. For example: today, I went out and bought a Xenogears Perfect Works book. Just because I like the artist. End result: me $65 poorer and with a book that is not (as I had thought) 75% drafting artworks, but rather 50% incoherent psychobabble about how "Elehayym" is "Myaah Ele" (Miang's japanese name sans the Ele) backwards. I blame the the nude Elly on the cover. On the bright side, I really do like his art. (if only the game had a fast-forward button...)

Anyway, that's as stupid as the people who tell me that "god" is "dog" backwards (or evil and live, natasha, blah blah) and expect me to think that this is somehow profound. I'd like to point out that "moronic observation" is "noitavresbo cinorom" backwards and nobody ever tried to wax lyrical to me about THAT one.

Anyway, sketching without an eraser (except the cruddy one on the end of your pencil) is pretty fun too. But give me a tablet anyday.
I wanted to post a few of them, but scanner has died on me (I need to reboot). C'est la vie.

2002-08-18T08:05:00.000-07:00

Okay, perhaps not.

It's supposed to be Alan somewhere around chapter 9 where he gets a haircut.

Mind: Did it ever occur to you that most people actually use something called source material for realism pics?
Dar: I hate Photoshop 4.01 LE.
Hand: I refuse to bezle hair. Get a tablet.
Photoshop 4.01 LE: Duh. Me know not what bezle tool is.
Dar: *hits shift key and hopes nobody notices*

In other news, I spent half the trip writing down my annual hall of shame record and the other half on Oscar Wilde. Thank goodness I have Oscar Wilde. He makes everything so much clearer.

The two big points of shame, 2001-2002:
1) I actually kept entering the MAG until April. Now the MAG is a wonderful and noble idea, but I say that it leaves a lot to be desired in some areas - namely how 50+ people can repeatedly draw pictures of characters they didn't know the existence of a month ago and happily wax lyrical in their comments about "Oooh, I love this character so much" (lit: vote for me! *huge sucking sound*). Every. Single. Month. It shows the shallowness of the human spirit - nothing bugs me as much as buttsucking politics. I can't say anthing more than "I respect your character design and think it shows promise" and that makes me sound insincere.

I eventually quit the MAG forums out of pure boredom because fabricating wonderful stories about my life in order to generate conversation was beginning to grate upon my soul - but I think I blamed it on point 2) because it was convenient. To be perfectly frank, the only reason why I wanted to enter the MAG was so that I could prove I could win (perhaps I can't - I'm not good at selling myself, but the important thing is that I don't care). I'm shallow that way (Hear, hear, Sair). Now, I think I like giftart more because it's a personal token and when you say "I like your character", you can really believe that.

2) The entire space coyote incident. If I have learnt anything from this, it is that the old Chinese saying "don't get involved" is sometimes true. But I'm still not going to pretend I have to "learn" from this because I'm not going to let one screwed-up person ruin my happy demeanour.

Reading her letters... let me quote Wilde on this:

-"Any preoccupation with ideas of what is right or wrong in conduct shows an arrested intellectual development"

-"Ambition is the last refuge of the failure".

So she says she's a stupid failure. Who am I to doubt her that? O_o; <- insincere and bitter vindictive statement. How jejune I am! Still, it makes me feel better. *waves flag* I have supped full of the "pity me" game and am full from the head to toe with the direst dread. But let's not play "pass the blame" here either. I tire easily of that game.

2002-08-18T06:28:00.000-07:00

There is something very wrong with Malaysia - It's like the very soil sucks out your will to live.

Maybe it's how everyone moves at the speed of a diseased slug. And oh... the traffic jams.

Perhaps it's because of the way they put twenty-four traffic lights at every junction such that you have to be a blind retard to miss all of them.

Maybe it's due to the fact that the entire country smells like a potty.

Maybe it's due to the UGLY scenery cluttered with tacky billboards and eroded hills - it's as if they're trying for a prize.

If I don't see my relatives for another four years, it will be four years too soon. Why the heck they choose to live in godforsaken hellhole is quite beyond me. You know it must be pretty bad for a country to actually evoke feelings of patriotism within moi.

Too tired to post anything significant - Dar out.

2002-08-16T21:05:00.000-07:00

Look: Despite what I think, I do know that people actually come to this blog and read what I write here - as a result, I think that I have an obligation to keep the contents as interesting and angst-free as possible. It's also a good chance to brush up on my writing skills - so in fourteen days, I'm going to change this to an actual record of experiences.

"Gaijin in Canada" - if you will.

As for life - I'm thinking of going down to the museum to see Rodin's work - despite the fact I already saw "Le Penseur" in San Francisco. Well, up close, anyway. Despite all the hoopla about fine art - I have a burning desire to know: Is it anatomically accurate? And if he is... how the heck do you get the chisel into that crack? It's sort of like that Michaelangelo guy... How you get the self-control to sculpt genitalia and not fall over giggling is beyond me - but in this case, the pose kind of makes it hard.

Now don't get me wrong about fine art... I still like it. Fine art is all very useful and pretty - you can hang it on a wall and people will go "ooh" and "aah" about it. It's just that I wouldn't be caught dead studying something that people only get famous for a century or so after they become worm-bait... or something which universities go to all kinds of extravagant means just to avoid giving it a four-letter code that spells out "FART" so they can be genteel and avoid shocking giggles.

My beef with art is that so much of it is "modern" art and why people put so much time and effort into making something indescribably ugly. To me - art has but one qualification. It has to be apparently beautiful, if not pretty. Renaissance fare, if you will... one otf the three: Beauty, Truth and Love. But when I go to galleries, I am instead treated to horrific impressionist images in yuk-red and sculptures made out of a garishly-dyed material that resembles toilet paper. Frescoes of barbed wire and skulls. For goodness' sake, if you want to be morbid and ugly just out of resentfulness, depression or irony, it shouldn't be art. It should be the opposite of art - "tra", if you will. there should be separate "tra" galleries for all these social comment-ish "War is bad" and blah-blah things. Because I sure as heck amn't going to enjoy myself staring at bronze feminist breast sculptures the entire day. Putting all your social comments and stuff into art - has to be stopped at some point because you have to realize that despite all your depression and effort, 99% of the universe doesn't give a damn if it's too ugly to even look at without getting an eye spasm.

I think the problem is this prevalent belief in the "art is a mirror to life" view - people don't realise that if your life sucks, your art about it will similiarly suck. Artists are depressed because they are in constant worry over where their next meal is coming from (another reason I'm NOT doing art in university), they feel instead of think, nobody loves them, people suck and the universe is going to hell in a handbasket and they are somehow "in tune" with the entropic nature of the universe. Which is why artists like these shouldn't be allowed to draw and still call their works "art". Why people have to limit themselves to drawing about their own lives and depression - stupefies me. It's ultimately vainglorious. And why people have to choose a job in which they can never be happy... baffles me as well. My belief has always been to do something you love so that you can devote your utmost to it. Well, they can, but I wish they'd stop telling other people how unhappy they are, angry with society woe, woe, in every bloody piece of work they produce for the public. Such work should be kept to oneself and for masochistic voyeurs, not be inflicted on the public.

I like artists that are emotionally well-balanced enough to understand the benefits of humour and satire. I like artists that don't consider art a burden on the soul - that still understand the beauty in life and the celebration of existence. I want to be the eternal amateur - occasionally producing works to rival the professionals without losing the joy in said activity.

2002-08-14T18:36:00.000-07:00

Weird things come in threes. In the past 33 hours I have:

- Played Pop n' Music 6's "Usual Days" by Egoistic Lemon Tea 24 times despite the fact it's so friggin' easy even on hyper.
- Mastered Digi Pop EX to the point where I can do it without putting it on Turbo Speed.
- Waxed lyrical about how Sumire's kuromimi usagi team is really a parody of Tron Bonne and her servbots.

- Gone to YQ's house and successfully installed Neverwinter Nights on it (which only runs without the sound on. Really not an issue because we weren't expecting it to run at all.) Stayed up for 36 hours trying to create broken insane cleric-girl and feeling like captain planet.
- successfully remembered two verses of the Gummy Bears theme song although what rhymes with "adventure" escapes us.
- Posited that the Gummybeary Juice(tm) is really an infinitely more stupid version of Asterix's magic potion.

- Gotten to an agreement with Kunika over certain matters. Kunika's agreed to cut off communications.
- Because IMO the fweeby is a maniacal control-freak which REALLY needs a psychiatrist and is slowly turning into her mother.
- I've decided that there are some people beyond help on the internet that I really shouldn't give a flying fuck about (excuse my french). Remember: The correct response to angst is to point and laugh, not to get involved. (I'll miss ya, Kuni ;_;)

- Been to Takashimaya and returned with a bag of goodies.
- consisting of One piece #24 (Full o' Miss All-Sunday goodness) and Suikoden fanbook #8 (for pretty pictures and, unfortunately, some pretty crapulent fanart. It wasn't as good as #2), salmon flavoured spread (for sandwiches), 500g of mutton cubes, penne pasta and a stupid amount and variety of mushrooms.
- I should never buy food on an empty stomach.

-Returned home and mauled a helpless chicken pie my father stupidly put within reach of me, followed by aforementioned salmon spread on half a loaf of bread. That was dinner.
-Fallen into a comatose state where I could possibly require an "I aten't dead sign" for ten hours
-Woke up and remembered that I completely forgot to check on Sair's oekaki.

YQ asked me if I wanted to reinvent myself in university. I don't know - perhaps if I have fun doing it, but that's so expected. I suspect he fears that I'll be my usual "Get lost, you annoying gabby slut - I resent you" misanthropic self in university and people will shun me, making me shrivel up and die. I'm rarely nice in RL.

I'd like to point out that if this worst-case scenario actually happens, I'll still have a computer, the internet and a functional Wacom tablet *drools*. Who needs people?