Sunday, April 16, 2006 ++
Give me the children, I will give you a nation. — Adolf Hitler, 1939
Upon reading this quote, nostalgia kicked in and I was reminded of a test which we took in third year high school to see if we were Machiavellian or not. Guess what? I am, apparently, a full-fledged Machiavelli advocate. According to our World History teacher, Machiavellian people would become excellent teachers, lawyers and doctors. (Although, I cannot fathom how the principle, "The end justifies the means", would make us well-suited to those professions.) A good thing, in my case, since I dream of becoming a neurosurgeon someday. If I fail in my attempt to become one, then I can go for an alternative and become a Machiavellian pre-school teacher. (Magiging motto ko yung quote ni Hitler.) Hi, kids. But I don't know if having Machiavellian Math and Chemistry professors is profitable for students. Imagine. Chemistry Exam. Problem solving. By some remarkable chance or intense logic, you are able to determine the final answer but you have no freaking idea how to solve for it. So you still try your luck and invent a totally bogus solution making it as slipshod as possible so your professor cannot decipher it. Then, at the bottom of your paper, there lies the final answer all neat and boxed. Big font pa. Para yun yung unang makita. So you think you're done. You stand up and stride to the teacher's desk. You almost hand your paper in. Your teacher gives you a questioning eye. Then you hesitantly ask, "Sir, may effort points po ba kapag tama yung solution tapos mali yung sagot?" The teacher slips a glance at the student's paper and thinks, "Kawawa naman itong estudyanteng 'to. Number one pa lang sa Multiple Choice mali na. Sige na nga. Magbibigay na ako ng effort points. Magsesemana santa na naman e." After a moment of reflection, the teacher nodded. The student fidgets then hazards another question, "E kapag tama yung sagot tapos mali yung solution?" The teacher tries to hide his incredulous look (which clearly reads, "Kung batukan kaya kita!") He simply replied, "Walang Machiavellian dito." Aray. Buti na lang magaling ako manghula ng solution. Full points! *does the hula* 11:02 AM
Saturday, April 15, 2006 ++
| sanctasedes is poisonous! Induce vomitting if ingested. |
| N POISON |
From Go-Quiz.com
Posion? Go-Quiz must be mistaken. I do NOT poison other people's minds. I merely persuade them to kill cats and hamsters on sight.
| How to make a sanctasedes |
| Ingredients: 1 part anger 3 parts crazyiness 5 parts ego |
| Method: Layer ingredientes in a shot glass. Add a little emotion if desired! |
5 parts ego? But I have been globally commended for my immense humility. *halo*
| ||||||||
Okay. So maybe I get a little paranoid sometimes.
| C | Cuddly |
| H | Honorable |
| R | Refined |
| I | Intense |
| S | Sophisticated |
| T | Technological |
| E | Energetic |
| L | Lovable |
| L | Light |
| E | Energetic |
Name Acronym Generator
From Go-Quiz.com
Cuddly? Far from it. Intense? I'm more laidback actually. Light. I completely agree. Honorable. *brandishes halo* Lovable. Just ask the supporting masses. Sophisticated and refined. Don't I sound like Gucci?
| P | Plain |
| O | Organic |
| P | Popular |
| E | Exhausting |
Name Acronym Generator
From Go-Quiz.com
Plain must mean my simple and modest ways. Organic makes me seem like a frail old wrinkled pope. Exhausting? Oooh, what does that mean? Popular. Can't help it. Comes with the job.
| A | Adventurous |
| N | Natural |
| N | New |
| E | Enchanting |
Name Acronym Generator
From Go-Quiz.com
Just for the heck of it. Enchanting? Most definitely. Proof lies in those who I have bewitched. You know, the millions. *smirks*
9:54 PM++
Summer... The season I dream of every fleeting moment in my dreary afternoon classes. The time of circadian ten-hour hibernation. A break from taxing studies and saddistic professors. *Vivaldi's Winter plays* But this juncture I so longed for has come to an abrupt halt because of looming Chemistry and Philosophy classes. Have I no right for rest and rejuvenation? Have I no freedom to spend my days couchpotatoing in front of the TV watching sword fights in Pirates of the Carribean? What crime have I committed to deserve condemnation to infernal laboratories titrating unknown acids whilst others enjoy killing time eating frozen delights? The injustice in this world sickens me. People who contributed to such unspeakable encroachment deserve to be gnawed by the Devil in the deepest circle of Inferno.
[/pagdadrama]
Dala yan ng matinding heat stroke. Grabe. Akala ko maprepreskohan ako kapag naligo ako pero hindi. Mainit ang tubig na lumabas sa shower. Por Dios. Bigyan niyo ako ng Ube Keso Craze ng Jollibee. Siya nga pala. Tapos ko na ang Purgatorio. Yeah bah. 2:42 PM
Friday, April 14, 2006 ++
A short story by Frank Stockton entitled The Lady or the Tiger? provoked many to ask... Love or jealousy? The key to the nature of the human heart lies in the answer to this question. This inquiry has beleaguered the minds of many philosophers for decades but there is still no definite resolution to such debates. At the end of the story, Stockton inquires as to which creature came out of the right door but in reality, he poses a deeper query to readers. Is it more innate for man to be perturbed of social welfare rather than pursue his own survival unconcerned with the needs of others? Do we reserve our applause for Rousseau? Or do we owe Hobbes a pat on the back?
I think that the princess pointed the man to his bloody end because 1) She is semibarbaric. Her instincts are more primal meaning that she is more likely to look out for herself. So it's her or the fangs of the tiger. And I understand completely. Which is more grievous? Failing to attain something because it is non-existent or eternally groping for an object already snatched away? It's like waving a piece of Black Forest Cake in front of a Christelle restricted by chains. It's absolute and utter torture. Damnation to the nth degree. 2) Only the idea of love exists. It can never be embodied. We, humans, just attempt to love the same way we strive for perfection. We move towards it but we can never truly exemplify it. So love only persists in fiction. But let's see. Then it is possible for the princess to choose the lady since she is only fictional! There you have it, lovestruck masses! The princess prefers to lift her status from semibarbarian to saint. Her noble deed nestles a golden halo on her head and immortalizes her in the mind of her subjects. But if that really is her motive, then it would be still for self-benefit, not true love. So yeah. Whatever she chooses, her drive would always be of self-profit. Kudos to Hobbes! 12:35 AM
Thursday, April 13, 2006 ++
I know I just posted a while ago but I found it irresistible to not add this as one of my entries. This is an email sent by one of my blockmates to our ygroup. I found it so amusing. It seemed as if it was one of the many writings of my overprotective boy-hating father. Or maybe my father and Niki's co-wrote it. Readers will get what I mean when they read it.
Rule One
If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better be delivering a
package, because you're sure not picking anything up.
Rule Two
You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her,
so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot
keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter's body, I will remove
them.
Rule Three
I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to
wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off
their hips. Please don't take this as an insult, but you and all of
your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open
minded about this issue, so I propose this compromise: You may come
to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too
big, and I will not object. However, in order to ensure that your
clothes do not, infact come off during the course of you date with
my daughter, I will take my electric nail gun and fasten your
trousers securely in place to your waist.
Rule Four
I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without
utilizing a "Barrier method" of some kind can kill you. Let me
elaborate, when it comes to sex, I am the barrrier, and I will kill
you.
In my father's case, one sumo jump is all it takes to cause the earth to part and swallow you whole.
Rule Five
It is usually understood that in order for us to get to know each
other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of
the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from
you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely
back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject
is: "early"
Rule Six
I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to
date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my
daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you
will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you.
If you make her cry, I will make you cry.
Rule Seven
As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear,
and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want
to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter
is putting on her makeup, a process than can take longer than
painting the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead of just standing there, why
don't you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?
Rule Eight
The following places are not appropriate for a date with my
daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer
than a wooden tool. Places where there is darkness. Places where
there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the
ambient temperature is warm enough to introduce my daughter to wear
shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than
overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka - zipped up to her
throat. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be
avoided; movies which features chain saws are okay. Hockey games are
okay. Old folks homes are better.
Rule Nine
Do not lie to me. I may appear to be a potbellied, balding, middle-
aged, dimwitted has-been. But on issues relating to my daughter, I
am the all-knowing, merciless god of your universe. If I ask you
where you are going and with whom, you have one chance to tell me
the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I have a
shotgun, a shovel, and five acres behind the house.
Haha. Loved this one. The description kind of applies. *thankful that my parents are clueless about computers and internet*
Rule Ten
Be afraid. Be very afraid. It takes very little for me to mistake
the sound of your car in the driveway for a chopper coming in over a
rice paddy near Hanoi. When my Agent Orange starts acting up, the
voices in my head frequently tell me to clean the guns as I wait for
you to bring my daughter home. As soon as you pull into the
driveways you should exit the car with both hands in plain sight.
Speak the perimeter password, announce in a clear voice that you
have brought my daughter home safely and early, then return to your
car - there is no need for you to come inside. The camouflaged face
at the window is mine.
For some profound reason, I think my father's likely to do that. 11:17 AM
++
Mafel and I were talking on the phone last night and I told her about this preposterous claim Niki made. According to her, she owns a bra that could make her chest look flat. As if any gadget on Earth could accomplish such an improbable feat! She and *toot* must have had a major fight. That is the only logical rationalization for Niki's momentary neurosis.
Writing about this made me remember about The Los Baňos Legends. Once, Mafel and I were contemplating the etymology of 'Los Baňos'. This word actually rooted from two accounts...
The Legend of the Bath
It is a well-known fact that by the time of the Renaissance, Western countries have spent thousands of galleons to launch expeditions in order to claim territory and best their neighbors. El Salvador was one the conquistadors hired by King Ferdinand II and Queen Isabella I to lead an expedition to the Pacific. Eager for its rewards, El Salvador accepted this offer and traveled in the Guadalupe, a majestic ship provided by His Highnesses. After 390 days in the sea, his lookout signaled for land in the southeast. Immediately, they set off towards that direction and were soon stepping on the island's glorious shores. The conquistador wanted to explore his new land and uncover the mysteries hidden in this undiscovered terrain. As he went deeper to the heart of the mountain, he heard the flow of running water. He followed this sound until he caught a glimpse of a river. Realizing how thirsty he was, he ran to it but stopped abruptly at the sight he beheld. It was a woman! Naked! Bathing in the river. A native most probably. He could see her features from where he stood. He was utterly captivated by her. "When I get the title from the king and this land becomes officially my encomienda, I could make her my wife," he surmised. Without a moment's hesitation, he approached his beloved maiden. Startled by this sudden movement, the girl turned around. Big mistake. It turns out that the girl was not a native. She was actually a water nymph whose sight of her boobs turned any man into stone. Consequently, the conquistador was instantly turned into stone. The water nymph, seeing what she had done by accident, said to herself, "Oh sh*t. Well that's what you perverts get for checking me out without permission."
The Legend of the Bathroom
It is a well-known fact that by the time of the Renaissance, Western countries have spent thousands of galleons to launch expeditions in order to claim territory and best their neighbors. El Salvador was one the conquistadors hired by King Ferdinand II and Queen Isabella I to lead an expedition to the Pacific. Eager for its rewards, El Salvador accepted the Queen's offer and traveled in the Guadalupe, a majestic ship provided by His Highnesses. After 390 days in the sea, his lookout signaled for land in the southeast. Immediately, they set off towards that direction and were soon stepping on the island's glorious shores. The conquistador wanted to explore his new land and uncover the mysteries hidden in this undiscovered terrain. As he went deeper to the heart of the mountain, he heard the flow of running water. He followed this sound until he caught a glimpse of a river. Realizing how thirsty he was, he ran to it but stopped abruptly at the sight he beheld. It was a native woman! Urinating in the river! He was outraged! "What the f**k? How dare she sully my Shangri-La!," he inwardly cursed. He ran towards the lady shouting, "You savage! Stop polluting the river with your pee!" Startled by this sudden movement, the girl turned around. Big mistake. It turns out that the girl was not a native. She was actually a water nymph whose urine turned any man into stone. El Salvador was near enough to be splashed by microdroplets of the water nymph's urine. Consequently, the conquistador was instantly turned into stone. The water nymph, seeing what she had done by accident, said to herself, "What? I go to this god forsaken mountain to take a leak and still no privacy?! Serves you right!"
Author's Notes:
As you can see, the two myths are almost identical. The variations in the stories, we wager, may have been caused by oral tradition. We also suspect that these explain the abundance of rocks in Los Baňos.
There you have it, boys and girls. Those two sagas were penned by two of the most exalted historians, namely Mafel and I, so you better believe it.
I finished reading Inferno last night! Yeah! So you see, Mafel, I intend on keeping my promise of retuning The Divine Comedy before the first semester begins. I'll probably be done reading it by Easter Sunday but I can't return it until late May because of grueling summer school. Grumble, grumble. It's just so unfair! You only have to suffer two hours of classes whereas I have to bear eight and a half! Curses. 9:29 AM
Wednesday, April 12, 2006 ++
I bought a book in Powerbooks a couple of days ago which contains poems from Sonnets from the Portugese and other poems written by Elizabeth Barett Browning. Cool, huh? My Literature teacher (yes, the one in my previous post) told our class that this book was extremely obscure. She bought her copy in Singapore. Haha. I bought mine in Makati.
Fair Amy of the terraced house,
Assist me to discover
Why you who would not hurt a mouse
Can torture so your lover.
You give your coffee to the cat,
You stroke the dog for coming,
And all your face grows kinder at
The little brown bee's humming.
But when he haunts your door...the town
Marks coming and marks going...
You seem to have stitched your eyelids down
To that long piece of sewing!
You never give a look, not you,
Nor drop him a "Good morning,"
To keep his long day warm and blue,
So fretted by your scorning.
She shook her head - "The mouse and bee
For crumb or flower will linger:
The dog is happy at my knee,
The cat purrs at my finger.
"But he...to him, the least thing given
Means great things at a distance;
He wants my world, my sun, my heaven,
Soul, body, whole existence.
"They say love gives as well as takes;
But I'm a simple maiden, -
My mother's first smile when she wakes
I still have smiled and prayed in.
"I only know my mother's love
Which gives all and asks nothing;
And this new loving sets the groove
Too much the way of loathing.
"Unless he gives me all in change,
I forfeit all things by him:
The risk is terrible and strange -
I tremble, doubt, ...deny him.
"He's sweetest friend or hardest foe,
Best angel or worst devil;
I either hate or ...love him so,
I can't be merely civil!
"You trust a woman who puts forth
Her blossoms thick as summer's?
You think she dreams what love is worth,
Who casts it to new-comers?
"Such love's a cowslip-ball to fling,
A moment's pretty pastime;
I give ...all me, if anything,
The first time and the last time.
"Dear neighbour of the trellised house,
A man should murmur never,
Though treated worse than dog and mouse,
Till doated on for ever!
Loved this one. 6:09 PM
Tuesday, April 11, 2006 ++
Realizing that entering BS Biology has dulled my creative writing skills, I plan to make more entries in my blog to retain whatever skills in that department I have. Resurrection of the Roman Curia. But I'm still not sure if I would succeed in hindering cobwebs from accumulating here because I'm certain that summer school would have me going from school to bed. Only. No detours to my beloved laptop. No internet. We have a ruthless schedule. Imagine waking up at seven in the morning to go to a 7:30 class on a summer day. As if that is not horrifying enough, we have classes EVERYDAY from 7:30 to 4 with only three 15 minute breaks in between classes. Now, this may sound tolerable if I'm taking easy subjects. But Organic Chemistry is far from what most would say is a light load. I heard of an instance where the highest score in a departmental exam of a certain block is 33 out of a 100. My friends, this is torture which encompasses that which I have ever known. My Literature teacher in high school told us of a story about two prisoners who looked out of their cell. One saw the mud. The other saw the stars. She told us to strive to always be like the prisoner who saw the stars. But tell me, how can you cling to optimism when you can't pry your eyes from a very bleak possibility? Oh well, it's not like I can do anything about our merciless curriculum. I will just have to force myself to look up and see scintillating miniscules. 10:40 PM
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