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Meet your Special Someone™
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 | Not for Hindus ... just kidding. Random thoughts, comments on anything that takes my fancy. Strictly a my opinion only & if you do not like, don't read, agree to disagree & go away happy. No flames, (flamers OK), request for photo/green card/webcam action etc please. |
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| Congratulations ... Or Not |
Jun 5, 2008 6:05 pm
Mood: Amused, 748 Views |  | I was rather amused to see a retraction in one of the papers today.
It said -
My apologies to Amber Aikens, delightful wife of Chelsea restaurateur Tom, whom I said yesterday was pregnant. In fact, she tells me she is not.
Crikey. I hope the editor, sub-editor and reporter managed to get their Manolos out from their mouths safely.
Growing up, I was taught to give up my seat to old people, very young kids and women with a bun in the oven. Being a good little girl, I did that on a regular basis. Until the day I gave up my seat to a lady on the bus and got yelled at. Apparently she wasn't preggers. She was just kind of chubby and terribly hormonal.
Well, that taught me. After that I would eye women suspiciously. Unless they were severely and blindingly preggers, I was not going to risk a bollocking by trying to be kind.
Then there was the time I was at a dinner party and met a couple I had not seen in ages. She was much bigger than before and wore a big, billowy gown that could pass for a Cirque du Soleil tent.
So I congratulated her in total delight on being preggers. And wanted to die a thousand deaths when she frostily informed me she was not preggers. Yes, we are still friends although I had to grovel big time.
But I got my own comeuppance.
I was in a taxi in Singapore after spending the day shopping and doing the ladies who lunch thing. I remember I was wearing a red salwar kameez. The taxi driver was extremely friendly and when I reached my hotel, he very solicitously asked me to be careful and to watch my steps as I got out.
I was a bit puzzled but thought, what a nice guy!
And then he congratulated me on my pregnancy.
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13 Comments | |
| Ring Around a Domestic |
Jun 5, 2008 1:39 pm
637 Views |  | I recently agreed to dance at some friends' wedding. They're a lovely young couple, of whom I am rather fond. So even though I have officially retired from doing weddings, I agreed to do a traditional dance and lead the wedding procession just for them.
Also, they asked my uncle, so I now have to do it.
Sneaky. I admire that. 
Anyway, they spend a lot of their time playing games together. Not that kind of games, you bunch of pervs. Proper board games. Carom, backgammon, scrabble ...
They are always together and their good humoured bickering during games are quite entertaining and often divides us into two distinct camps. When I am there, the wife-to-be and I will form the "I pity you weaker sex" brigade, sending the husband-to-be wailing for male reinforcements. When the blokes huddle in unity, they try to lord it over us only to retreat sheepishly when the wife-to-be threatens to tell his mum. He's deathly afraid of his mum.
So, I had the chance to catch up with them this week and heard them arguing semi-seriously for the first time since I have known them.
The cause?
Shopping.
They have been shopping furiously to furnish their new apartment before the wedding. The wedding preparations, from the gowns to watches to china, are taking their toll.
But nothing can tear an affianced couple faster than an over-sticky band-aid ... than ... THE ENGAGEMENT RING. Dum de dum de DUUUUMMMMM ...
I should know. I've been engaged more times than some people have had boyfriends and my jewelry case used to boast an array of engagements rings until my embarrassment made me auction them away for charity.
I know all about cut, carat, clarity, colour and catastrophe.
First comes the pressure, on the poor bloke, to worry about what kind of ring he should get. Traditional diamond? Or something more modern and unconventional? Like a coloured stone? What if she thinks he's being cheap? What if it is the wrong colour? What if she thinks he's trying to imply she is not pure (Asian context here)?
Oh bugger it ... off to the pub for a pint.
While there, the clueless male asks some of his mates for advice. He fails to notice that half of them are pissed. The other half never had a girlfriend before. And those who had would rather die first than get hitched.
No worries, he asks the total stranger next to him wearing a wedding ring for advice.
The bloke says, "Get a diamond. Small one. Safer."
He's mighty grateful and fails to notice the counseller is a middle-aged twat who's just been kicked out of his house for playing hide the sausage with the nanny. Which was why he was going to try to sleep on the pub floor that night.
So, our man decides on a traditional diamond engagement ring. He brings his best mate with him to a jewelry store.
Bloody hell, there are so many types of diamond rings. And diamonds! What's this brilliant rose and princess slice business? What about the ones in the picture? You know? One diamond on some silver band thingy? Yeah, that one.
What??? 20,000 pounds???? Are ye joking? No? Feck off!
He retreats home to nurse his wounds and to restrategise. He decides to check the girlfriend's preferences.
For weeks, he puts magazines strategically in her path and for once, instead of switching off her chatter when she coos over this or that, he listens.
He casually asks her which picture she thinks is good and which are shite. He takes notes. He sweats. Bloody 'ell, she has expensive taste.
Finally, he makes a decision and goes shopping again. He buys a smallish diamond solitaire with acceptable Cs ... he's not sure what they are but the blokes in the store said they were VS - very sweet. He chooses the cheapest yet reasonably respectable option which is still the amount of some small banana republic's GDP.
So it's all sweat, blood and tears as he sobs over the massive hole in his wallet. Now he had to worry over the proposal.
This is hard. It has to be romantic. Yet unique. But it must suit her taste. She must not expect it. He had to keep it a secret.
Bloody hell, back to the pub for a pint. And a pattern forms.
Somehow, our hero manages to pull off the proposal. Girl accepts amid happy tears and a shy pretense of surprise. She's no fool. You think she would not have wondered why he was suddenly interested in her taste in fashion and actually looking at her magazines?
Then out comes the ring.
Silence.
"Wow, it's so ... dainty."
"Yes, yes, I wanted it to look good on you. Nothing too loud and flashy for a classy babe like you."
"Well, nothing will be flashing alright ... "
Uh oh ...
So they had a huge domestic over the ring. She's annoyed that he did not pay attention to her taste. She hates the traditional solitaires with fussy filigree that he bought her. He thought she liked traditional and classic designs. He'd seen that kind of ring on his mother and aunts.
The size of the diamond was also in contention. Why so small? So they could save for the wedding and honeymoon.
Those are over in a flash but she would be wearing the ring for life, she sniffed. Why so small?
He mutters darkly.
Nowadays, the size of the diamond on an engagement ring is equated with the size of the man's love instead of his wallet.
For some reason, somehow, the cost of a diamond ring is taken as a matter of course. Of course the man has to fork out a diamond ring. Of course cost should not be a consideration. Of course it only matters if the girl likes it.
I am sure glad I am a girlie.
I've been the best female friend male mates have called at all times of the day and night to cry in panic over what ring to buy. I've had to accompany numerous mates on their virgin sojourn to highway robbers disguised as jewelers as they hand over their life-savings, for something that might land them on the living room couch for weeks.
Within my collection of engagement rings was a solid silver band with a minuscule diamond chip that cost all of 40 pounds. It was the first engagement ring my ex-husband gave me. Back then, he was terribly poor and it was all he could afford.
Actually, the first engagement ring he gave me was the twist tab from a can of soda which I used to flick him on the forehead with. Needless to say, his first proposal was rather unsuccessful. (Not because of the cost of the "ring," mind you.) So were his second, third and ... but that's another story ...
I cherished that ring more than the ridiculously dearer, and vaguely tacky, diamond engagement ring he gave me later to compensate for the first offering. He never understood why I preferred wearing the "el cheapo" ring over the over-blinged doorknob disguised as a ring.
Our two young friends got into a terrible argument over their engagement ring. It was a pretty, little thing, albeit rather old-fashioned and slightly twee. But this came from a bloke who favours Metallica T-shirts, wears all black and heavy silver chains.
The fact that he even sat through fashion magazines to pick out a pretty little ring is an achievement and testament of his adoration of his bride-to-be.
But our girl was too hurt and humiliated. I think she forgot who they both are and what they are about in her frenzy of romantic fantasy. They are not Prince Charming and Princess Charmed. They do not have the coffers of a small nation to spend on an engagement ring. They have much bigger challenges ahead of them than a piece of carbon pressurised from too much romantic expectations.
I truly felt sorry for both of them.
He has to go back and get her another ring.
She has to get him an engagement watch in return.
That was the compromise as they almost argued themselves out of a wedding. He gets her a "better" ring. She gives him a an engagement gift as well ... a Guess watch he had been eyeing.
Sigh. Young love.
I've booked my ticket to be there for the wedding but I am not counting on it. |
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8 Comments | |
| Forgiveness |
Jun 3, 2008 10:33 am
Mood: Leery, 782 Views | It's not something I do well. In fact, I am unforgivably bad at it.
A long time ago, someone I worked with decided that I was such an easy-going person of such good humour, he decided to screw me over. He also took the chance that I would be too well-brought up and genteel to create a scene and loudly expose his wrong-doings in front of everyone.
He was right. I quietly called him a few choice names and then I made him a promise, "You are dead to me. Never make a mistake in front of me as I do not forgive nor do I forget."
And I left.
About a decade passed and one day, our paths crossed. He had almost forgotten me. Mistake.
We had the misfortune of being in the same business circle for a project and I was my usual smiles and good humour. He bought it. Mistake.
We made small talk and in the convivial atmosphere of post-conference activities, he relaxed enough to inform some of our associates that he and I once worked together when I was very young. And he vaguely remembered me as I was such a cute young thing then. Mistake.
During that week, a few people came to me. One asked my opinion of my ex-colleague as he had approached them on a deal.
I laid out my analysis which I had started the moment I saw him. And I ended by saying I personally would never trust him but that was just my own opinion.
They decided not to go with him.
Another friend asked what I thought of him as he had applied for a senior position with them. I told him that I would never trust him, as I did once and got screwed. I also forwarded my extremely fair and objective evaluation (which I prided myself on since I hated his guts - professionalism sucks). I labelled him a liability I would not underwrite.
They did not hire him.
On the last day of the conference, he approached me for help on something. I looked him straight in the eye and said, "I like this particular Chinese proverb that teaches us ... Vengeance is never too late. Even ten years later. I am done but I will be watching for you as you failed to watch for me."
I was not particularly proud of myself for not being able to "let go" and be a better person than he. I will not deny the satisfaction I felt. I laid in wait for ten years. I can wait. Even if I had passed on before the time, I would have set the cogs to go into play when he made his mistake.
Yes, I am not a good person.
That was years ago when I was younger and more angry. This week, I found myself in the same position.
I was placed in a position where someone I used to work with was once again in my sphere. Years ago, this person was starving and unable to get work anywhere. Out of pity and sympathy, I started bringing him with me and personally persuaded people to give him the time of day. I gave him a salary when the clients refused to pay it.
So it was with much shock and a deep sense of betrayal that I realised he had been going around stealing my clients while informing them that I was too expensive, unavailable and did not want to work with them.
At the same time, I found out that he had done the same to a number of peers. They were up in arms and much was said but no one had confronted him yet. An unofficial boycott and names slinging campaign was underway.
I do not play like that.
I picked up the phone and asked him calmly if he had betrayed me. I gave him rope. He lied. And tried to blame everyone but himself. He also tried to turn the tables around to make me feel bad for doubting him.
I gave him more rope. He lied even more.
After he had tied the noose around his own neck, I told him I had just heard it first hand from the client that afternoon. He was silent and fearful. He had enough cow sense to realise my quiet behaviour was the calm before the storm.
I informed him he was dead to me and he had to be very careful he never placed himself before me again. And I hang up.
He stalked me over the phone for days trying to explain. I cut him off at all points.
Years passed. No one in the industry would work with him. Everyone knew of my blunt refusal to have anything to do with him and my complete disdain of him as a person and product.
So, this week, he had the misfortune of sitting with me for lunch due to some mutual business dealings. I could see the fear on his face. I could also see that he contemplated moving off with some excuse rather than have to face me.
But he must have been very hungry because he forced himself to do so and it was an incredibly awkward moment for him.
As usual, I was all smiles and good humour.
To give him his due, he had the balls to ask me during a rare, quiet moment, when no one else was paying attention, if I was still angry with him and if I had never considered that he might have changed in all these years.
Into what, was my question.
He gave me excuses that he had been going through a very bad patch when he was starving. He had been in mental chaos as his then partner had messed with his head by making him think everyone else was against them and he had to fight for their survival.
Which apparently entailed biting the hand that fed him.
She had informed him of the list of supposed names a fairly prominent member of our circle had called him and gotten him so riled that he lost his rag.
His self-righteous momentum was interrupted when I asked what that had to do with me.
He explained that that made him think no one else but her was on his side and he had to fight for their survival. I smiled and listened with earnest eyes as he told me how his partner made use of him to screw everyone so they could gather as much business for themselves. How she made him feel so sorry for her that he resorted to underhanded methods. He had lost sight of what was right and wrong.
He even had the audacity to tell me that even I had worked with his partner after they had had their own blow up. He somehow equated that as my own inability to maintain personal integrity.
He apologised and asked that I forgive him.
I smiled.
"Thank you. I accept your apology.
It does not justify your actions. Nothing does.
I gave you food from my own table. When you were starving, I gave you work when there was none. I gave up my own money to help you out.
You said you did it from misplaced loyalty. I call it deliberate disloyalty.
Whatever happened between you and your partner is your business. It did not affect me. You claim she was the reason why you screwed me over. I really do not give a shite. I just know you did it. My problem is with you. Not her.
The one who lied and stole from me was you. If she had her hand up your arse to do it ... well, too bad for you. Not my concern.
It is in the past now. I accept your apology as such but it does not justify what you did.
I will still never work with you as I will never be able to trust you.
I wish you well but I never want to have anything to do with you. If I see you as I did today, we can talk as two people who used to know each other.
Nothing else."
I think I have grown a little. I will not lie in wait for him in quiet, opportunistic vengeance as I might once have. But it does not mean I will not keep an eye out for him to await the knife of psychotic retribution or delusional, self-serving vindication.
The fact that he used his wife and infant child to garner my sympathy also did not add to the dearth of respect I have for him.
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14 Comments | |
| Hanguel Buddha? |
Jun 1, 2008 7:14 pm
Mood: Curious, 820 Views | I'm not on a Korean bash fest but it just happened that I had the Korean papers to read and a couple of things struck me as odd.
This one has always intrigued me. I remember my history lessons that taught me that Korea and Japan originally started out from Chinese migratory developments. And so it was a bit of a shock to read in some Korean research papers, years later, that they considered themselves the original country from which the Chinese and Japanese ancestry evolved.
Of course, this was explained to me, by some more learned friends, that this was mainly from North Korean propaganda but the statement and argument has persisted throughout the decades.
So, it was with much interest I read that a report from Korea Daily, based on a research paper from Sunkyunkwan University in South Korea, alleged that Buddha was Korean.
Suddenly I had visions of one of the characters in Goodness Gracious Me tying a turban around a bust of Shakespeare and declaring the latter Indian.
The historians in Sunkyunkwan Uni claim that during 700 BC, Koreans living in the southern part of the Korean peninsular ventured across the oceans. Some reached Japan and formed the roots of some of Japan's culture. Other continued their journey such that around 650 BC, they reached the Straits of Malacca, onwards to Bangladesh and then Sakyamuni was born!
Now, the Korean historians are refuting that Sakyumuni was Aryan and an Indian prince. Their proof? His daily activities, which they claimed were very "east asian". They also correlated some of the words from the Buddhist scriptures to Korean, claiming that the former are "transforms" from Korean.
A book of this research is expected to be published at the end of the year. I would be highly curious to read this.
Why?
OK, let's take it one at a time. Of course, this is based on my limited knowledge and lack of time to do any conclusive research of my own. So top of head observations are:
Them early Koreans had a worse sense of direction than I do. They went from Korea to Japan. OK, that's not that bad a journey. Then went all the way down to the Straits of Malacca. And then circled back up to go to Bangladesh! Did they do this via land or sea because if it was by sea, that was monumentally daft. If by land, that was superlatively daft.
Also, how did they build the boats? If I remember correctly, iron and metallurgy were not developed till about 500 BC in Korea. And I think ships were not developed till after 100 BC. If they swam, I am surprised the Koreans have not won all the swimming events at every Olympics.
Second, Buddha was Aryan. He was born an Indian prince who gave it all up to find the "truth". It is in most religious scriptures from Buddhists to Sikh. His daily activities? What? That he ate little and only vegetables, fruits and milk products? So did a lot of people globally then. He slept. Koreans did that too. He ate. Wow, so did the Koreans. He went to the loo. By God, so did the Koreans! That's it! He's Korean! Ah, I see ...
And let's look at Buddhanet which states that Buddhism took root in Korea after some Chinese monk went on a conversion spree at around the second half of the AD fourth century. Buddhism was introduced during the Three Kingdom period which ran from around 57 BC to around 668.
Let's see, Buddhism started in China in the first century BC through trade with the Central Asians.
The Central Asians learnt about Buddhism from the Indians in third century BC.
My maths suck so I cannot understand the Koreans's new maths here.
The last supporting evidence are the words in the Buddhist scriptures deriving from Korean. Alright, from my understanding when I had to study a little of both Korean and Japanese, the origins of both came from China. Which is why I find kanji rather easy.
However, I remember my Korean instructor telling me that Korean is not only borrowed from Chinese but a ridiculously large percentage of it is also borrowed from other languages. One of which is Sanskrit. The language in which most Buddhist scriptures are written.
Still, stranger things have happened. I bet when Galileo first announced the world was round, loads of people gasped and choked before they decided they were gonna hang him.
I would be highly interested in reading the findings but at the moment, based on the report in Korea Daily, I am finding it highly amusing.
I hope the reporter does a better job in his follow-up.
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12 Comments | |
| A Child By Any Other Name |
May 31, 2008 6:49 pm
Mood: Curious, 770 Views | I know I probably have no place adding my two cents' worth on this issue since I am not Korean nor am I a mother. But I wondered about the pros and cons and consequences and implications of the legal changing of surnames for children.
Faint not. I have not suddenly discovered an erstwhile maternal instinct nor developed a biological time bomb in my self-centred body.
I just saw an article in Dramabeans about Korean actress Choi Jin Shil seeking and receiving the right to legally change her children's surnames from that of her ex-husband's to hers.
To be honest, I have no clue who she is but I wondered about the necessity of the action. Was the ex-husband a raving axe-murderer from whom she wanted to protect her children, thus the change of name to protect their identities? Or was his surname a really bad one, like Deepshit or Dickwatis, which will bring them eternal grief?
I read further and it appears that Choi felt that "she has no intentions to remarry, her ex-husband had remarried, and she would like to lead her own life and wanted her children to proudly bear her name."
Hold on. I am still confused. OK, what would a remarriage have to do with her children's surnames? I am not familiar with Korean laws so this is a genuinely inquisitive question. And so, okay, the ex-mistake had remarried. Does that mean their two children are any less his children now?
Choi has been divorced since 2004. Surely she has been leading her own life since then? After all, the courts granted permission for the surname change based of the fact that she was the "child-rearing parent" for the past four years.
I understand that Korean women retain their own surname after marriage. Apparently, the Korean system previously advocated that women were never accepted as a "true" member of their spouses' family and thus carried the stigma of being an outsider by not sharing their husbands' surnames.
It's rather unfair, isn't it? After all, you can shag them and have children with them but they are always outsiders? I sure hope Korean wives enjoy great fringe benefits.
Anyway, the article hastened to assure that the decision is a sound one. Apparently, when Korean women remarry, the children will take on their new stepfathers' surnames. I refer back to my first question. If Choi has decided she will not be considering remarriage, why is this an issue? Why do it now? The kids are only 5 and 7 years of age. Plenty of time to make a decision of such monumental significance.
Choi's rationalising is that the name change is not intended to sever her children's ties with their father but "an affirmation of the care she has given them and an assurance of the relationship" she has with them. Look, if you have been the sole parent taking care of them, surely they will not forget that so soon? And what? 18 months of pregnancy was not assurance enough that they are her children? And to whom is this affirmation for? Her? Her children? Society?
Is imposing her will of surnames on her children a matter of pride for her or her children?
I actually did not even think that deeply about this article till I saw the line that stated Choi's children did not particularly comprehend what the big deal was as they had assumed that the name change was a natural conclusion. What? They are 5 and 7 ... most children at that age are still learning to write their names in flowing cursive.
I have nothing against the woman but it seems more like a matter of personal ego massaging than any real logical or sensible long term consideration.
Dramabeans stated that it is forward-thinking to grant Korean women the right to change their children's surnames. My Korean knowledge is ludicrously limited but I would have thought it would be much more sensible and fair to let the children decide, when they are old enough, whose surname they would like to carry for the rest of their lives.
A surname is not a change of knickers. You cannot discard or disregard it cavalierly just because you decide you would like to claim your children solely. They have a right to their father's name. They should have a right to decide. When they are ready.
It is enough that parents have such authoritarian rights over their children to decide what they wear, how they cut their hair, what they eat, or which school they should go to.
By saying that the change of name will not sever the relationship with their father ... I think it smacks a bit of double-talk. Conversely, if a surname has no relevance to the relation between a child and its parent, why then the pursuit to change it to hers?
Surely the bringing up of a child is to nurture him or her till they discover their own identity? By changing a fundamental element such as a surname, does it not defeat the purpose? Would this not subject the children to identity crisis and promote a power-struggle between parents?
I think mothers naturally have a much stronger bond with their children since they tend to be the main care-givers. The act of breast-feeding and carrying the seed of union in the womb for 9 months is something a father can never share. Surely letting him experience the joy of seeing his namesake born into this world is a small, acceptable boon?
Of course, I could be totally wrong and Choi's decision could have immense merit but I wonder. | |
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7 Comments | |
| Kiwis and Hedgehogs |
May 30, 2008 12:01 am
Mood: Amused, 801 Views |  | Ah, the Kiwis ... they slay me even if I feel a prick on my conscience for laughing at them.
Somehow I now have visions of Xena doing one of her battle cries as she swings a hedgehog furiously around in the air and launches it into her enemies. Hedgehog Power! Aaaaiiiieeeeeeeeeyyyaaaaaaa!!!
Kiwis do it the organic way apparently. They fight au natural. Not for them the metallic clank of knives and blades. And fie on using guns and 2x4s.
According to AFP, a Kiwi (not the bird, the man ... then again ...) has been convicted of assault with a prickly weapon. This obviously frustrated hairdresser-wannabe must have felt so passionately about a 15-year-old's bad hairdo that he decided the teen needed a hedgehog helmet to cover his sins.
The misunderstood Samaritan, William Singalargh, aged 27, was fined by the court for his misguided efforts. They deemed it an assault and offensive behaviour. Perhaps to the hedgehog but I think his defense lawyer should have shown exhibits of the boy's hair to support their case, if they were to even have a strand of hope.
Fortunately, the Wellingtonian court dropped the more serious charge of assault with a weapon. We can only surmise that the hedgehog had been asleep and did not have its back up during the attack. In fact, there was some accusation that the hedgehog was actually deceased at the time of the crime, since it was definitely dead when the police arrived at the scene of the crime. In which case, Singalargh was lucky that they did not charge him with assault with a dead weapon.
Despite Singalargh's plaintive appeal that he was not a hedgehog hurler, judge Ian Thomas listened to the evidence of other witnesses, who fingered Singalargh through his bright orange pants. I would say he deserved the fingering. Honestly, who wears bright orange pants nowadays? Even Prison Break broke away from that horrendous fashion statement.
But the story related by the victim was even more damning than Singalargh's pants. On February 9, 2008, the teen had been walking home with his two mates when Singalargh and his three accomplices confronted them on the road outside his home.
Singalargh apparently asked him, "Do you want to wear a hedgehog helmet?"
The teen made the mistake of declining the hairy offer, which drove Singalargh to hedge his bets and attempt to reconstruct the latter's hair by hurling the hedgehog at him. Unfortunately, Singalargh obviously wanted to straighten out the 15-year-old's hair on his lower body as the ball of pricks hit the boy ... well, near his prick. On his hip actually.
Left with a red welt and four quills on his hip, the boy cried for his mummy who ran out and prevented a second volley. That ticked Singalargh off so much, he decided to launch another ball of attack by mooning her. Surprisingly, she was not blinded. By either his bare buttocks or his bright orange pants.
According to police constable Lyndon Reid, Singalargh also made a monumental arse of himself by admitting to possession of a hedgehog and to using alleged hedgehog as a hacky sack. So that left the prosecution case completely in the sack as Singalargh ended up with sharp words from the judge and a pointedly appropriate sentence.
Singalargh had to pay a fine of $545 (the cost of the hedgehog was probably not accounted for), of which $389 went to the victim. The boy ... not the hedgehog.
There is no report on whether there is a memorial service for the misused hedgehog or if the teen is still hip with this sentence.
But there are rumours that there is now a legislation under consideration for the mandatory registry and licensing of hedgehogs and a public campaign on safe hedgehog possession in the home.
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6 Comments | |
| Never Apart |
May 29, 2008 3:24 pm
Mood: Saddened, 813 Views | Blood is a strange thing. We used to joke that if you even have 1/16th of Maori blood, you can claim all the rights due. Which makes almost anyone eligible.
People with a prince for a great-great-great-grandfather, will still claim royal blood today, even if they live in the projects and work in a kebab shop. It seems the tenuous mixing of white and red plasma clamps a much more tenacious fist onto our psyche than we know.
Having so many different bloodlines and living in so many places means being able to identify with more than your share of cultures, people and beliefs. It also means you are more easily buffeted by the winds of fortune.
As children, we sat at home and cried when we watched the trains derail in india, killing thousands. We wrung our hands and felt divided and torn as we saw the ravages of the Falkland wars. We mutely withstood the sneers and jeers as 911 happened. We made our homes available to refugees during the tsunamis. We kept a vigil as bomb threats overtook Christmas in Germany and worried about each and every relative still remaining at home. We waited at airports to welcome and comfort each distant relative returned from a war-torn country.
We are far flung and stand with our feet on more than one shore. Crimson rivers have strewn the ground where we stood as we shed our blood to protect the land we call home ... even if it was only for a few decades. We have planted and harvested and given back to the land we made our fortunes in. We have silently made offerings and amends, because our actions may be misconstrued in these times of deep distrust and paranoid but understandable suspicion.
This morning, I read the latest criticisms hurled at someone trying to do his part for charity. It made a heart already sorely wrung even more fragile.
I have not said anything about the Sichuan earthquake thus far. It does not mean I do not feel it less, or more. It simple means that some sorrows run so deep that only tears can express the river of grief.
Perhaps only Agnes can understand that the silent sorrow whispers more thunderously than the shouts of lament and platitudes of words.
It is unfortunate that a man donated $100,000 to the Sichuan earthquake rescue efforts and was criticised. Why? Because he was Andy Lau.
The critics accused him of being stingy since he is such a big and successful celebrity and should and could have donated more. Quite right. How dare he?
I mean, he only headlined and headed many of the initiatives to aid the rescue work. He wrote two songs and galvanised his other celebrity mates to sing and record the songs to raise money towards the efforts. He also begged all his mates to donate $100,000 each and then led by example by openly donating that amount first. The $100,000 was also set as a standard so there would be no comparison between each donor, so as not to take away from the issue at hand. How ironic.
I am no Andy Lau fan. I do not have any strong positive or negative feelings towards the man. But I think it is such mean-spirited criticism that is crippling charity efforts today. In Korea, it is much the same. Celebrities do not even want to be associated with charity work as it will garner negative publicity with evil-minded individuals accusing them of using it as a public relations tool.
It is true that true charity should be done quietly and without expectations and for the good of the beneficiaries and no one else. However, one of the biggest tool a celebrity has is just that. Their celebrity. They know their mere appearance will inspire fans and groupies to copy their actions. It is why celebrity endorsements work so well.
It is a double edged sword. You help the charity when you use your celebrity. But you get shredded by the critics for being a publicity whore.
Perhaps that is Andy Lau's greatest sacrifice for the Sichuan earthquake victims. His reputation for their redemption.
Whatever his intentions, you cannot fault him for helping. Perhaps he did it because he is Chinese. Perhaps he did it because he has family and friends in Sichuan. Perhaps he did it because he just happens to like Sichuanese food. Or perhaps he did it because he is simply human.
Even if I disliked the lyrics to his song Promise, I will give a nod towards the man for silently bearing the criticism and not letting that deter or embitter him in his goal to lend a hand.
Rather, I prefer the lyrics, even if the melody is deplorable, of the song Never Apart, which was written specifically for the Sichuan victims. Sung by Jackie Chan, who really should not sing, and with the lyrics by Nan Shu, it is much more meaningful and profound. I apologise for my poor translation and can only hope Agnes can help me clean it up.
生死不離
In life or death we will never be apart
你的夢落在哪裡
Even in the place where your dreams have fallen
想著生活繼續
Life will continue
天空失去了美麗
Even as the sky loses its beauty in darkness
你卻等待夢在明天站起
You're still waiting and hoping to stand up again
你的呼喊刻在我的血液裡
And your cries are engraved in my blood
生死不離
In life or death we will never be apart
我數秒等你的消息
I count the seconds as I await news of your return
相信生命不息
Holding on to the belief that life will never end
與你祈禱一起呼吸
I say a prayer with you, as I take each breathe with you
我看不到你卻牽掛在心裡
Although I cannot see you, I carry you deep in my heart
你的目光是我全部的意義
To see your gaze means everything to me
無論你在哪裡
No matter where you are
我都要找到你
I will find you
血脈能創造奇蹟 生命是命題
Our shared blood can create miracles to resolutely lift huge mountains
無論你在哪裡
Wherever you are
我都要找到你
I will find you
手拉著手 生死不離
Hand in hand, we will never be apart
生死不離
In life or death we are never be apart
全世界都被沉寂
The entire world is submerged in silent sorrow
痛苦也不哭泣
Tears unshed even in pain and sorrow
愛是你的傳奇
love scribes your legend
彩虹在風雨後堅強升起
The rainbow will rise in glory after the storm
我在努力看到愛的力氣
Our efforts will flourish from the power of love
無論你在哪裡
No matter where you are
我都要找到你
I will find you
血脈能創造奇蹟 生命是命題
Our shared blood can create miracles, life is the eternal answer
無論你在哪裡
Wherever you are
我都要找到你
I will find you
天裂了 去縫起
The sky has been torn part, let us mend it together
你一絲希望是我全部的動力
One thread of hope is all I need
搭起我的手築成你回家的路基
I raise my hands to form the road for your return home
無論你在哪裡
No matter where you are
我都要找到你
I will find you
血脈能創造奇蹟 生命是命題
Our shared blood can create miracles to resolutely lift huge mountains
無論你在哪裡
Wherever you are
我都要找到你
I will find you
手拉著手 生死不離
Hand in hand, we will never be apart
無論你在哪裡
No matter where you are
我都要找到你
I will find you
血脈能創造奇蹟 大山毅然舉起
Our shared blood can create miracles to resolutely lift huge mountains
無論你在哪裡
Wherever you are
我都要找到你
I will find you
天裂了 去縫起
The sky has been torn part, let us mend it together
手拉著手 生死不離
Holding each other's hand, we will never part in life or death
On that note, some have taken the route of criticising China for its oft-times misguided policies and stands, leveraging unkind statements such as "retribution", "they deserve it", even discussing their population, education and human rights practices in light of the recent tragedy.
This is not the time to cast blame or to kick a dog when it's down. Whatever a nation's past crimes, real or alleged, a tragedy of this magnitude and sorrow should not be degraded or demeaned. Let us try to maintain some humanity and extend hearts and hands in good will instead of finger wagging.
Until their land is healed and their people can sleep in peace without tears on pillows ... we should not add to their grief.
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8 Comments | |
| Man or Mouse - Spurm Them Not |
May 29, 2008 1:14 pm
Mood: Amused, 875 Views |  | Boys, you know when your parents told you to stop wanking yourself or you might go blind? Well, now you may be pleased to know that your spurm (sic) may cure the world.
On the other hand, you are apparently not much more than a mouse ...
Oh, how many ways can you milk this ... isn't it rather apt that this research comes from animal health? 
Scientists look to sperm to power nanobots
Flagellum could potentially provide locomotion, early research suggests
By Bryn Nelson
Columnist
MSNBC contributor
ET Jan. 2, 2008
A tiny assembly line that powers the whip-like tail of sperm could be harnessed to send future nanobots or other tiny medical devices zooming around the human body, according to a preliminary research report.
Borrowing a page from reproductive biology, the proof-of-principle study offers a peek at how nanotechnology might overcome the problem of supplying energy to the envisioned menagerie of nanobots, implants and “smart” probes aimed at releasing disease-fighting drugs, monitoring enzymes and performing other medical roles within a patient’s body.
To be biologically compatible, these hypothetical devices would need to be formed not from tiny springs and nuts and bolts but from biomedical components. “At that scale, biology provides the best functional motors,” said Alexander Travis, an assistant professor of reproductive biology at Cornell University’s Baker Institute for animal Health. “But how do you power these kinds of structures?”
One potential answer has come from the tail, or flagellum, that propels human sperm at a rate of about 7 inches per hour. (In comparison, if a 6-foot man swam the equivalent number of body lengths in an hour, his tally of 3.7 miles would smash the American long-distance swimming record.)
To supply the energy for its locomotion, a sperm cell’s tail is essentially studded with tiny assembly lines that produce a high-energy compound called ATP. Officially known as adenosine triphosphate, ATP has been called the universal energy “currency” of living cells because of its ability to store, transfer and release energy. When a power source is needed to run processes within a cell — say, bending and flexing a sperm’s flagellum — ATP releases its reserves through a process that results in its decay to a simpler chemical form.
The most efficient producers of ATP are mitochondria, the cell’s miniature power plants. Sperm tails contain a spiraling helix of these mitochondria within the area closest to the sperm’s head. On the remaining three-quarters of its tail, however, the cell uses an approach based on a pathway called glycolysis, in which sugar is broken down into several components, including high-energy ATP molecules.
Proteins normally require the freedom to twist, bend or change shape to be functional. Research by Travis and Cornell colleague Chinatsu Mukai, together with other scientists, suggests that in sperm, the 10 proteins involved in glycolysis have been tweaked so they stick to a solid scaffold-like support running the length of the tail while still maintaining their activity. Travis and Mukai borrowed that approach to re-jigger the proteins so they stuck instead to the surface of a tiny gold chip covered with nickel ions. For their research, the scientists used mouse sperm proteins as templates for the synthesized versions. [(Human and mouse sperm proteins are closely related.){NOW, DON'T YOU WISH YOU'D KNOWN I WAS GOING TO HIGHLIGHT THIS SO YOU DID NOT HAVE TO READ THE ABOVE?}
After tethering the first two proteins in the pathway to the chip, the researchers found that both did well in breaking down glucose and handing the end-product to the next protein. Compared to versions lacking a surface-targeting domain and “just randomly glommed” onto a structural support, the engineered proteins performed especially well. Most of the remaining assembly line has yet to be similarly tweaked, but Travis and Mukai’s work suggests it should be possible. “We believe it is one of the first, if not the first, example of building a biological pathway on a manmade surface,” Travis said. The collaborators have a provisional patent for the ATP-making strategy, though no commercial partners as of yet.
Like a vehicle running on gasoline, the sperm’s power production emits waste. Fortunately, its tail harbors a transport protein that acts like a tailpipe to kick out waste and keep the production cycle going. Future nanodevices, Travis said, could include this transporter to similarly maintain their energy production. Maximizing the pathway’s efficiency could prove important for future strategies, such as filling tiny delivery capsules known as liposomes with cancer-fighting drugs and studding their outsides with antibodies that would direct the medical packets to attack specific tumor cells. Under that scenario, a steady supply of ATP could power the pumps charged with dispensing the medication at a certain rate.
Other scientists are likewise mining the emerging field of nanotechnology and its largely unrealized potential for delivering high-impact devices in ultra-small dimensions. Recent studies, for example, have harnessed nanotubes, nanodiamonds and magnetic nanoparticles for drug delivery (but not yet within humans). One group has created a tiny nickel-based rod that spins almost like a tiny propeller as it uses ATP. Another team, led by Carlo Montemagno at the University of Cincinnati, is working on a technique that makes ATP from light photons.
As a veterinarian, Travis said his interest in wildlife conservation got him into reproductive biology and research aimed at fighting infertility and exploring birth control methods. Through efforts by his lab and others, he discovered that one of the most abundant proteins in mammalian sperm, hexokinase, is also the first enzyme in the glycolysis assembly line on its tail. That observation led to questions about the protein’s role, location and, eventually, about whether it and its assembly line partners might be useful for other applications.
Cornell University’s emphasis on nanotechnology “just kind of clicked” with his reproductive biology research, Travis said. He and Mukai presented the initial results from that scientific pairing in early December at the American Society for Cell Biology’s annual meeting, held in Washington, D.C., and are now preparing the study for publication.
Dr. Erkki Ruoslahti, a nanotechnology researcher and distinguished professor with the La Jolla, Calif.-based Burnham Institute for Medical Research, said he was intrigued by the approach and considered it a valid first step. “It sounds good to me — that’s the kind of thing that the field needs,” he said. “Having some sort of way of being able to power nanodevices is the number one bottleneck in constructing really clever devices.”
The safety of nanotechnology devices has yet to be fully resolved. Ruoslahti cautioned that sperm-inspired ATP generators would need to overcome the likelihood that the altered proteins would be recognized as foreign by the body’s immune system, provoking a strong immune response. Even so, he pointed out that some nanoparticles potentially serving as the basis for savvy devices of the future are already in use, including magnetic iron oxide particles used for advanced body imaging. “These are not pie-in-the-sky technologies,” Ruoslahti said. “They’re already with us.”
You don't say?
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20 Comments | |
| Karma's a Biatch |
May 27, 2008 1:24 pm
Mood: Nervous Nelly, 857 Views | Do you believe in coincidences or karma?
Since I am only halfway, or even less, in my path to enlightenment, I find myself constantly wavering between belief, acceptance and complete cynicism.
But sometimes, things do seem to take on a rather Twilight Zone-ish feel.
I made, literally, a two-hour visit to my uncle's cafe to take care of some business and while there, had the misfortune of attracting the much-unwanted attention of Z's husband. OK, ex-husband as of last week, apparently.
The man, knowing full well how much his ex-wife detested me and how I have always avoided him, crept right next to me as I was chatting with some friends playing board games.
In his almost incomprehensible English, he asked as his eyes did an unauthorised and highly illegal joy ride over my inwardly nauseated person, "You play games? You like?"
I had to restrain a nasty sneer and the urge to snarl as I replied, "No, I am very bad at playing games as I do not have the patience for them. I leave them to others and just watch."
Silently, I added, "Bugger off, slimeball!"
As my friends watched him with horrid fascination, the half-wit gave it another royal try as he pointed to my shisha and asked, "You like this?"
No, moron, I absolutely detest it which is why I smoke it all the time. Roll eyes.
Damn my grandmother for teaching me manners.
"Yes I do. The smoke hides my face from unwanted eyes and the coals keeps unwanted hands away."
He looked confused and decided to cower back under his rock to ponder my words. My friends chuckled and went back to their board game as one of them ... a girl ... high-fived me.
What a wanker. Did he think I would entertain his clumsy come-on just because I do not like his wife? I pity her for ever having the cow sense to marry him.
Anyway, off I go, away from the two nutters. Or so I thought.
I get to the next port of call and while having a quick tea with an old friend, she asked if I had seen Z recently. Can I not get away from this woman at all?
I related the little incident with Z's ex-deadweight and she made the appropriate gasps of horror and mock-barfs of disgust. Then she lowered her voice as she said, "WHF, I am going to tell you something scandalous about Z!"
That got me worried.
"Er, maybe it would be better if you do not tell me then as I do not think I want to bear that kind of responsibility."
"No, no! It's about her past."
I was really, really uneasy now. My mind wove drunkenly with visions of her wielding axes of destruction as she cleaved her way through the half-broken bodies of dancers she had trampled upon, her stripping layers of dignity off her shroud of jealousy as she attempted to break the family units of rival dancers, her maniacal cackle as she slashed the pursestrings of pre-school children ...
"Her brother is mentally insane! He was born with schizophrenia and that explains why she is so cuckoo!"
This was relayed with a vast smile of satisfaction.
That's it?
That's the scandal? I felt vaguely deflated.
"Oh ... so? How does that make her nutso?"
"Well, it's hereditary! If someone in your family is crazy, it is likely you would inherit that and be crazy too!"
You don't say.
"I rather think it is a cop out for anyone to blame their genes and the such for them being bitter, nasty individuals. If claiming that you have mental instability in your family excuses you from taking responsibility for your actions, then let's find ole Aunt Katherine of the Alzheimer's infamy and go on a crime spree, shall we?"
"Oh, no! I am not trying to excuse her. I just mean that I can understand why she is crazy. I mean you can tell she had bad genes from the way she behaves. I always suspected it."
"Z is 'crazy' because she is a bitter person and her personality makes it impossible for her to be happy. It has nothing to do with a brother who is mentally unstable. This information does nothing to how I judge Z. I judge her on what she has done in her own right and to me. Whatever happens with her family, her children, her ancestors, her pets really has no significance to how I perceive her. She casts her own shadow."
"Well, it is medically proven that crazy people beget crazy people."
"Actually, it isn't proven. It is reported in medical studies but these cannot be conclusive as anything to do with the human brain and heart cannot be statistically analysed in this manner. And casting aspersions on a person based on "genetic anomaly" is unfair to that person and their family. Enough, let's change the subject."
I must admit I was irritated with the conversation. It smacked of provincial bigotry that I do not want to indulge in. So I cast off the unpleasant stench of the afternoon and decided I would visit a few art galleries.
And who should I see? The ex-husband of Z. No, not the one who hit on me. The one before that! Yes, she has more than one ex-husband.
Bugger, what the hell is going on? Is this some kind of evil conspiracy? Is this pay-back for gossiping about Z's family history?
I quickly dashed into one of the shops before he spotted me, hoping that he would not recognise me. I really could not deal with so much Z-ism in two days!
So, while I was trying my best to hide in this tiny art gallery, the shop manager started chatting with me about some of the rather pleasant pieces in the gallery. I kept my eyes and face determinedly on his and averted from the shop windows so Mr Ex-Husband-Before-Pervy-Scumball-of-Z's would not see me.
Unfortunately, the art gallery manager took that as a sign that I was interested in him. And I had to spend the next 30 minutes gently but firmly turning down his invitation to drinks that night.
Bloody hell, I have the worst luck.
By the time I deemed it safe enough to leave, I still walked with a nervous swiveling of head to ensure I did not bump into Z's ex-husband, and that the art gallery manager had not taken it into his head to follow me.
This is ridiculous. I need an anti-Z serum. The world is too small.
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12 Comments | |
| For Agnes - Ana F'Intazarak |
May 26, 2008 2:39 pm
966 Views | OK, as promised, here are the translated lyrics for one of my favourite songs. If you search for it, you might hear the song but listen only to the classical version by Oum Khalthom - the original is about 40 minutes long but they have "cut" versions. Not the remixed new versions which are ... well, some of them are just rubbish.
Another good version is the one from Hossam Ramzy but it is just an instrumental piece with no vocals as Hossam likes to have his drumming be the centrepiece instead of the singer. It's a good piece but a much shortened version which I think lacks the full nuances of the song. But if you tell him I said so, I will have to kill you and deny it all.
Here goes -
Ana F'Intazark - I am Waiting For You
I am waiting for you
I kept the fire of my passion withinin my chest
and placed my hand upon my cheek
and counted
by seconds
the pain of your absence
but you did not come
I wish - I wish I had never loved
I need to know if it torments you too
or if your heart beats for someone (else)
From my state of hopelessness I cry
this absence is an eternal absence
and I think of what has resulted
from my error
You are my mistake
I wish - I wish I had never loved
I spend my anguish on the coals of fire
and am completely at a loss
Each breath counts your steps
Each whisper counts your words
I am in this state morning and night
Those who see me proclaim me insane
I wish - I wish I had never loved
For years and days, you made promises to me
yet you come with excuses and words
Those words!
You greet me but leave quickly
or you do not even come and tell me "I forgot"
I wish - I wish I had never loved
This is a completely inadequate translation, of course, as the Arabic language is much more lyrical than this but it is as best as I can do.
The melody is incredibly haunting. When you hear this, it tears at your heart and pulls at your soul. The first time I heard it, it haunted me for years as it still does. If fact, MM saw me dance to this I think.
Now can you imagine this as a secondary theme/love song for any of Jin Yong's novels?
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