Cars.

I am male and I'm studying Mechanical engineering. I must like cars. Thats the general stereotype that goes round, I suppose. I can't say that its very far off the mark. A lot of my classmates do like cars. Not me though, at least not in the way that they do.

I like cars for what they can do, not for what they are. In other words, I'm a driver, not a petrol head. I love driving. Can't say that I'm particularly good at it, but I enjoy it all the same. Driving alone, when I'm in the car, just me, the road and the car has proven to be quite effective at taking the edge off for me. I can't explain it, but I feel at peace when I'm driving like that. There haven't been many times when I needed the roads to keep me sane, but when I did need it, it provided me with a sense of calm. Funny thing is, my love for driving is very strongly attached to my love for manual transmission. Admittedly, if I drove in KL all the time, auto transmission would save my life. But taking traffic jams out of the picture, I really do like having the clutch. It gives driving the feel that it should have.

I like to drive, but the workings of a car do not interest me all that much. I have a rough idea how internal combustion works, but all the stuff that have been developed in the last 10 years baffle me. Active differentials, Continuously Variable Transmission, i-DSI, i-CTDi, VVT-i, VVTL-i, VVTL, VTC, Neo VVL, CVT. I have no idea what any of them do. Neither do I care.

Having said that, I do still find cars exciting to a point. I still see cars as more than a tool to help us get around. I can see myself buying a car the drives properly in the future. (Some might argue that all cars drive properly. What I mean is cars that don't take forever to get to speed and don't feel like they're going to kill you when you corner faster than 40 km/h). Type-R Civics and Golf GTIs come to mind, but thats a fantasy for a later point in my life. I wouldn't mind a Ferrari, but thats getting ahead of myself.

If I do buy a Ferrari, I will drive it. Not store it in the garage to be taken out every so often so that your friends can see how well off you are. Half the ingenuity of the car lies in the fact that you can use it everyday just a easily as any other commercial car. Making a car go fast is one thing. Making it fast and comfortable is a whole different ball game altogether.

If I really went berserk one day, this is the car I'll end up with. In my books now, this is the ultimate escape from reality. If something pisses me off or gets me depressed, driving this is one of the few things in the world that can make things a little less painful. That is of course assuming I don't get killed driving it.

We are boring.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/asia-pacific/6201292.stm

When we do make the international news, its because of things like this. If its not snake kings dying, its journalists calling us stupid or columnists commenting on racist slurs in our country. A bit depressing, really. You'd think that I'd be used to it by now.

They came back....

I came home today and saw this little book on the dining table. The title read 'Is there a creator?' My interest piqued instantly. The last time I saw something of that sort, Jehovah's witnesses had just visited my house. They had asked me if I believed in God. I told them I didn't know, which was a perfectly honest answer because I really didn't. That probably made their 'convert radar' blink really hard, but I didn't want to talk religion at that point in time. (I was standing on my porch sweeping the floor) So they gave me two booklets as food for thought and said they would be back. I never thought they would come back, but they did. Some people came by today and asked for a Mr. Siew. My mum told them that Mr. Siew is in Indonesia, which is true. How would my mum know that they were looking for me? They left this new booklet and left.

The last book was about maintaining a happy marriage. Yawn. Give that to me in about 15 years and I might actually read it. Read it now? Never mind. But this new book is interesting enough. I looked through it and didn't really like it. I have not written off creationism, but neither have I concluded that evolution is nonsense. To be honest, I do lean rather heavily towards evolution, but I am open to new ideas. I will not, however pick one side just because it can dig up lots of dirt about the theories that the other side has. Disproving a rival does not prove you right.

I have to admit, I am sorely tempted to start quoting from the booklet and giving my two cents about how some of the logic used is a little dodgy. But I won't. I will however look a little at my own views.

What exactly do I believe? I don't think I believe either side. I'm a fence sitter, waiting for one side to come up with enough evidence to pull me over. The question of where we come from is not quite important enough to me. One line in that book links quite strongly with my previous post about the point to life. It stated that if evolution was true, then there would be no meaning to life. I'd say that much is true. To evolution, we are a coincidence. Life just so happened to appear on our planet and life's only purpose would be the continuation of life. That is what I used the believe. I'm not too sure about that anymore.

As of now, I don't have the answers, so I won't form a belief. It sounds really cowardly, but in this case, I would rather be wishy washy. The last thing I want is to believe in something and then seek to prove it while categorically ignoring all evidence that points otherwise. Human beings have a tendency to do that. It is exactly that tendency that makes being a scientist so very difficult. If you start an experiment with certain results in mind, and look for those results, you are likely to find them. It doesn't prove a theory right, however. Bias is difficult to eliminate.
Thank God I'm not an evolutionary biologist.

Which is it?

The involuntary visits to the stone etchings,
The peals of laughter that echo the caves,
The wafting smells that emerge from hither.
The searing flame that burns inside.

The minutes and hours in contemplation,
The tortured writhing in the middle of the night,
The unlikely fantasies that play in dreams,
The time spent under a blanket, eyes closed but not asleep.

Where do they come from?
The source is unknown and can never be found,
Is it the idea or object that brings forth the trouble?
Is it the concept or prototype that needles the mind?

They say the trickling sand will work its wonders,
That the cycle of hands will mend it all,
But it hasn’t and for good reason,
The missing chapters leave the story untold.

An Eternal Question.

Why am I here? Funny question, really, one that I think about every now and then when I really need a distraction. Or when the need for it comes. My ready answer to this was generally quite pessimistic. There is no reason. I am here because my mum and dad decided that children might be a good idea. So here I am. I can't think of any other reason without delving into the realm of spirituality, which I will not do. This post would be completely pointless if I did that, since I'd have the answers already.

I suppose that question has a very close link to yet another question. What is my purpose in life? Is there a purpose to my life? At some point, I thought of myself as just another parasite on this planet, taking up resources and generally making a mess. But I came to realize that if I kept thinking that way, then I'd really see no point in having life on this planet to begin with. Because if I take the questioning further, I'd start asking if there was a point to life, and I think I'd reach the same conclusion. There is no point to life.

I started asking myself where I get these ideas from and I discovered one thing. There was only one parameter that I worked with in answering these questions. What is the impact that I (or any other variable) would have? Trying to find the point to my existence by seeking my significance to the world can only lead to one thing - The conclusion that in the end, there is no point to anything because you can keep zooming out further and further until the impact became so small, that its negligible. To my family, I am significant. To my friends, less so. To this country, even less. To the world, I might as well not exist. I can't begin to describe how insignificant I would be if you took it to the edge of the universe and looked at me from there. Our solar system is pointless in the eyes of the universe, if you use my analysis. (So is our galaxy for that matter.)

Which led me to wonder if my model is flawed. Or rather, is it something that I want to live by? I don't want the only reason for my continued survival on this world to be the fact that I am too scared to kill myself. With so many people out there with a zest for life, I'd be terribly narcissistic to write them all off as ignorant idiots who don't see the insignificance of their existence.

To change my opinion on something like that is not easy. Its like finding out that you have cancer and then trying to go back to a time when you didn't know. I don't have an alternative answer to that question, and until I do, this twisted view will persist. No one will ever be able to answer that for me. I suppose I'll just have to keep walking until I find that reason.

Nasty Politics.

Bladewing was always going on and on about racial politics. Justice was important to him, and so he saw it fit to scream and kick when he saw an imbalance. Admittedly, his view of the situation was decidedly narrow. He eventually decided that imbalances happen all over the world, and just ranting in frustration isn't going to significantly change anything. (Yes, I know it sounds defeatist, but I decided that there are more mature ways of dealing with his frustrations.)

This blog has been largely devoid of political content. I just didn't feel that it was worth it putting what I thought into this space. All the racist comments that get published in the local dailies were noted, quietly insulted and allowed to pass. Sometimes I talked about it over lunch, but thats as far as I went.

But now I actually find myself being threatened. Racist comments from the recent political gathering has been defended as harmless rethoric. I quote "Reaksi orang Melayu panas tapi terkawal. Panas tak terbakar, Marah tak berkelahi".

Oh really? So all that kissing of the keris and the expectation to use the curved dagger is all harmless pomp as well? Somehow I am skeptical. The party in mention has always been portraying itself as the champion of the moderate Malay. So far, it seems like all they want to do is to gut everyone else who question their "constitutionally enshrined special rights". I feel vulnerable and insecure. Can I be blamed for feeling that way?

When threatened, there are two things that people do. Fight or flight. As of now, the latter seems like the better idea. And its happening already. As this prime minister gives way, as he eventually will, the edoxus will accelerate, and the Malaysia as I love will cease to exist.

Maybe I'm just being paranoid. Time will tell, but to be honest, I think I'm going to get ready while I wait.

The obsession.

The ironies of life are really quite cruel,
They singe at the soul, and yet remain darkly humourous,
To observe the parallels running in two different lives,
To see and do nothing, for none can be done.

The obsessions run deep, that is plain to see,
Both appear to function, but the signs are everywhere,
A single minded bug that refuses to let go,
In speech, in writing, in choice in life, it manifests.

I knew of my parasite for it is hard to ignore,
But to see it there as well, it’s the funniest thing,
The upturned lip was the first reaction,
What it meant is still rather a mystery.

It could have been an appreciation for twisted divine humour,
Or it could have been hurt, hiding behind a silly façade,
It might have been sadism, for misery loves company,
Or maybe meek surrender to a hopeless cause.

Whatever it was, it needed release,
Hence this prose, this mangled piece of writing,
Hope burns eternal, but I wish it would snuff out,
For your sake and mine, the embers must die.

The Olive Branch

The outposts are new, the timber freshly cut,
Supply wagons arrive still,
Weapons and food, nothing but,
Watchful eyes scan the horizon,
Patrols in armoured skirts walk the hills.

The visit to the Nile yielded nought,
Experated, he returned home,
A war he did not want,
But a war is here, whether he liked it or not.

He had no regrets, no desire to undo,
No change in action would change the reaction,
As much as he regrets being drawn into war,
His conscience is clear, from God he did not fear.

Though antagonized, he will stay his ground,
No javelins have been thrown, no sword yet swung,
And should by miracle, a chance should come,
The olive branch shall be offered, no questions asked.

Photo from a taxi.

I was horsing around with the camera in Jakarta when I took this picture of children begging on the streets. They hang around traffic lights and when it turns red, they go make their rounds. Its actually one of the few times I went around Indonesia in a sedan and not a giant 4X4 jeep, so the children can actually reach the window. Taken during the Hari Raya period too.

And I thought I would fail.

Seriously, I thought I was going to fail Mechanics of Materials. I could barely answer half the paper, and needed the ones I did answer to be free of silly mistakes to pass. That was according to my calculations. But being hopeless in Math as I am, I completely miscalculated. I passed. With a nice grade to boot.

To give you an idea on how convinced I was that I was going to fail, I only had to say this. I knew I had a trip to Indonesia coming up. Land of the Hocus Pocus. I actually considered going to a witchdoctor in Indonesia to make myself pass. Yes, secular old me wanted to use black magic to pass a test. I eventually came to my senses, but I really was scared. (I look back at that time now and I laugh) I was thinking of all the consequences already, having to repeat the subject in the 1st sem next year. 6 subjects in Delta first sem is just not a prospect I relished. Supplementary papers are pretty pointless in Mechanical Engineering subjects. They make sure no one passes. I wouldn't have passed it even if it was a fairly set supp paper anyway. I knew very little about Mechanics of Materials. (Through no fault of my own....... Okay, maybe I was at fault a little, but the lecturer is still bad.) At one point, I think I became resigned to a fate of suffering through a heavy workload next year. I told myself that it wouldn't be too bad.

To make matters worse, engineering results came out a day late. As if the suspense wasn't bad enough, we had people telling us they had their results only to be completely frustrated that we can't see ours.

Well, I passed and thats the important bit. I'm not going to describe my reaction after I got my results. Its quite embarassing really.

A silly little gripe.

I was glancing through the newspapers yesterday when I came across the report about some politician in Klang and how he is currently embroiled in contraversy. I can't remember his name and his exact designation off hand because political scandals tend to be a bit boring to me.

I kept flipping and somewhere in the 'NEWS' section of the paper was an article by this Feng Shui master who went to this fallen politician to give him some advice. This master is a regular columist in the Star and decided that the dude could use a little help. Funnily enough, the politician listened. And I thought Muslims did not believe in this kind of stuff.

Anyway, that isn't the main issue. What I found slightly disturbing is the fact that the Star printed it in the News section of the newspaper. While I'm not a particularly avid practicioner of Feng Shui, I do respect the right for people to believe in it. You can have your column and write all the books you want, I'm not going to say anything. But to put that article in a section that is meant for factual reports seems a little off to me. I see Feng Shui as a lifestyle. In this society, a little like religon. Some people believe it, some don't. I can't quite understand why the article has to be in the news section when he could have quite easily saved the story for his column.

I know its a stupid gripe. I guess I expected too much form the Star. I've been told that its tabloidish and that it isn't much of a newspaper. I guess they were right then. The Star is becoming a lifestyle magazine.

To Indonesia and back.

One week in Indonesia. Half in urban Jakarta, the other half in not so urban Samarinda. I could give you a blow by blow account of what happened, but I don't think I will. A week in Indonesia visiting my dad is by no measure a earth shattering event.

So here's the short version. Day one, shopping, sleep, shopping. Day two, pretty much the same. Repeat for day three. Day four, fly to Samarinda. Once there, drive around for a bit, visit dad's workplace, watch a bunch of movies.

Fly back to Malaysia. Yep, thats pretty much all there was to it. Not to say that it wasn't fun though.

Shangri La.

Like so many before me, I seek it,
To reverse what cannot go back,
To ask sand to defy gravity,
To flip the gears that tick and tock.

It is youthful exuberance they seek,
The supple limb, perfect sight,
The beauty that came and went,
The health that was taken for granted.

But one might ask why I should seek that,
I have reached my peak and I've never been stronger,
There is nothing to go back to,
Nothing to improve.

That which I seek is similar but not the same,
I know so little, yet I know so much,
I never took the journey, I merely arrived,
But what I need now is to take that ride.

So I seek the elixir for the lease of life,
To stop being 'wise' and to open my eyes.

State of Fear.

Good book. I'm naturally a Michael Crichton fan, and I'm probably biased. But, yes, it is a good book. Anyone who wants to read it needs only to ask.

Leave!

It was years ago when they first met,
He looked, and saw a mirror,
Though different in flesh and blood,
He saw himself in more ways than one.

The twisted smile, the unflinching gaze,
The stinging tongue ever ready,
No one was spared, not even the brother,
Both did not love, did not want to, did not need to.

As he delved, he grew closer,
He learned from this teacher, this one master,
Faith in the method was all that was asked,
In the glory that it would lead to, he would bask.

What dangers lay ahead, he couldn’t have known,
The differences between the two would soon be shown,
One had talent, the other didn’t,
One was real, the other wasn’t.

He shriveled in the light as dawn finally came,
The echoes of truth burned his soul,
The unwavering conviction quickly faltered,
Reality trumped faith as the barbed words withered.

The memories of the past now haunt his life,
The regret wakes him before the sun shines,
He pays now for what he did before,
The universe always settles the score.

So leave now and never come back,
He has no use for you anymore,
Time will cleanse, as it always does,
But the memory of what was will remain forever.

This blog is becoming redundant.

I haven't posted in quite some time. Because I didn't have anything to say. And I still don't really have anything to say really. I don't keep a blog to write about my days. I kept it to rant. But as Amran (quite brutally) pointed out, its becoming a bit too self reflective, to the point when it actually starts getting annoying.

So if I'm not going to whine about how much my life sucks or whine about how stupid some things in the world are, what good is this blog? Nothing really. It was created at a time when I still wanted a space to tell the world to eff off. I can't sat that I don't need to, but I don't want to do that anymore. Its a very expensive habit, that. There are things I wish I could say here. Things I wish I could tell someone, anyone, and not have them snort in disbelief (or yawn in complete boredom for that matter).

This blog has no more purpose. I don't think I will delete this blog though. Just doesn't feel like the right thing to do. I'm just not going to post that often.

My monologues.

The two voices in my head, arguing their heads off sound a bit like this.

Me : I'm feeling a bit depressed right now.

X : Well of course you are! Its exam week! You always become like this during exam week. Its allright. You have every right to be.

Y : Actually, you don't. There are standards to maintain, mate. And you need to make sure you maintain them.

X : Aww. C'mon man. He's having a bit of a rough patch now. Give the man a break.

Y : Rough patch or not, what needs to be done needs to be done. Priorities, my boy. Remember them.

X : What are these grades for anyway? They don't prove much now do they?

Y : Yes they do. My man here knows why he needs to work for them. He's known all his life. Its all he has done all his life. If he doesn't make it, the blame will fall squarely on him, and him alone. He can't deal with that.

X : Look here. If depression could be dealt with as easily as you think it can, then you're an idiot. The dude here is dealing with it as best he can. Its not like he's not studying at all.

Y : He isn't pushing hard enough! More needs to be done. He needs to suck it up and keep walking. He needs to move his sorry ass.

X : It happens every semester, and he's been fine all along.

Y : Well, in case you haven't noticed, this semester is a bit different.

X : He has everything under contol. No worries.

Y : Has he now? I don't think he does. I think he is compromising. He is aiming for less than he is capable of.

X : He isn't compromising. He is doing his best. You try walking in his shoes and then you'll know what its like.

Y : I am in his shoes. I'm in his head remember. I see what he sees. An all I see now is a slob who has an excuse to be lazy. And he's taking it.

X : Don't you dare say that. He's had this problem forever. None of this has anything to do with looking for an excuse of whatnot.

And the arguement continues.

The jack of all trades.

I'm not much of a jack of all trades, to be frank. To be a jack of all trades, one has to be reasonably good at everything. I cannot draw or sing to save my life (doesn't stop me from bursting into song when I'm alone in the car though) =P. Speaking of driving, I'm not much of a driver either. All the correct lines to take when turning don't really come naturally to me. I'm not cut out to be a Schumacher (although the dudes in school used to call me Siewmacher).

Problem is, I'm also a master of none. I don't really master what I'm given. Of course, one could argue the relativity of mastering something. I tend to look at the pinnacle of things to determine my level of mastery. If I'm not one of the best, then I haven't mastered it at all.

So, lets look at the things that I do. I study engineering. Have I mastered it? Hah! Hardly. And I don't think I ever will. I just don't have the single minded drive required to become a good engineering student who will graduate top of the class and move on to discover the next theorem in beam analysis. I always wish I was studying something else whenever I pick my notes up. But I know that if I were doing anything else, I'd be dying for some subjects from engineering. I look back at my biology textbooks now and wished I know more. Its the same for accounts (albeit to a lesser extent). The law facinates me, but I know that once I need to deal with the nitty gritty of law, I'd run back to my numbers.

I write too. But I'm not much of a writer. Not good enough to be published anyway. And looking at the comment count on my posts, I'd say that even when provided for free, nobody wants to read what I write. (hint hint) I don't normally have anything particularly interesting to say, and I know that people have better things to do than to read the ramblings of pupating mind.

I don't debate particularly well either. Probably becasue I don't take it as seriously as I should. So I can't really say now can I?

On another note, if there is one thing I'm trying to do now, its to not take things in absolute. It really doesn't matter if I am not the best at anything. I don't have to be. Purpose isn't defined by being at the top anymore.

Why I write.

I don't even know why I'm writing this in the first place.

Its been partially covered already in the old blog. That was a point when I wondered if writing was some form of narcissism on my part. Just becasue I can use big words and have good structure, I write, just to show the world the genius that I am. Or something along those lines. I'm not quite sure where that came from either. One of the sillier soul-searching endevours I've had, I suppose.

Now I ask again, who do I write? For some reason, writing is the first thing I think of when dealing with negative emotions. Anger, depression, sometimes sadness. They all give me this strange impulse to write. It doesn't do much in terms of dealing with the emotions. Most of the time, I'm left exactly where I was before.

It could be entirely possible that writing is just a way for me to organize my thoughts. A bit like the pensive pool that Dumbledore has, really. Too many things on my mind, so I write them down and try to sort them out. That could be true.

But then again, I sometimes find myself with nothing to write, but needing to write. Sounds a bit off, I know, but thats what I feel. I grasp for topics to write about, and end up posting some lame stuff on the blog or some little story that I will start but never really finish.

I remember this status message. "I write because I believe". I wish this were true for me. I probably used to do just that. I had a sense of righteous conviction in my writing, a sense of confidence that I was ultimately right. My writing was a challenge to prove me wrong. It had a sense of purpose.

I can't do that anymore. I realize that it makes this blog incredibly boring. That would make me boring. And yes, I know that this trend has been happening for some time now. Pensive, reflective writing just isn't very engaging now is it?

But I realize that I never did answer the question on why I write. I don't know. Maybe it needs no answer.

A little story.

Found this on the BBC. This kid is quite the businessman. Tricky little fellow. Given the right resources and opportunities, I'm pretty sure he'd make it. In business that is.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/programmes/this_world/5378688.stm