Saturday, March 21, 2009

True Literature

Our schools should teach de Sade. Shakespeare and Moral Ed classes should be consigned to the trash bin. After all, are not all universal moral principles idle fantasies?


Marquis d'Sade - Dialogue between a Priest and a Dying Man (1782)


PRIEST - Come to this the fatal hour when at last from the eyes of deluded man the scales must fall away, and be shown the cruel picture of his errors and his vices - say, my son, do you not repent the host of sins unto which you were led by weakness and human frailty?

DYING MAN - Yes, my friend, I do repent.

PRIEST - Rejoice then in these pangs of remorse, during the brief space remaining to you profit therefrom to obtain Heaven’s general absolution for your sins, and be mindful of it, only through the mediation of the Most Holy Sacrament of penance will you be granted it by the Eternal.

DYING MAN - I do not understand you, any more than you have understood me.

PRIEST - What's that?

DYING MAN - I told you that I repented.

PRIEST - I heard you say it.

DYING MAN - Yes, but without understanding it.

PRIEST - My interpretation -

DYING MAN - Hold. I shall give you mine. By Nature created, created with very keen tastes, with very strong passions; placed on this earth for the sole purpose of yielding to them and satisfying them, and these effects of my creation being naught but necessities directly relating to Nature’s fundamental designs or, if you prefer, naught but essential derivatives proceeding from her intentions in my regard, all in accordance with her laws, I repent not having acknowledged her omnipotence as fully as I might have done, I am only sorry for the modest use I made of the faculties (criminal in your view, perfectly ordinary in mine) she gave me to serve her; I did sometimes resist her, I repent it. Misled by your absurd doctrines, with them for arms I mindlessly challenged the desires instilled in me by a much diviner inspiration, and thereof do I repent: I only plucked an occasional flower when I might have gathered an ample harvest of fruit - such are the just grounds for the regrets I have, do me the honor of considering me incapable of harboring any others.

PRIEST - Lo! where your fallacies take you, to what pass are you brought by your sophistries! To created being you ascribe all the Creator’s power, and those unlucky penchants which have led you astray, ah! do you not see they are merely the products of corrupted nature, to which you attribute omnipotence?

DYING MAN - Friend - it looks to me as though your dialectic were as false as your thinking. Pray straighten your arguing or else leave me to die in peace. What do you mean by Creator, and what do you mean by corrupted nature?

PRIEST - The Creator is the master of the universe, ‘tis He who has wrought everything, everything created, and who maintains it all through the mere fact of His omnipotence.

DYING MAN - An impressive figure indeed. Tell me now why this so very formidable fellow did nevertheless, as you would have it, create a corrupted nature?

PRIEST - What glory would men ever have, had not God left them free will; and in the enjoyment thereof, what merit could come to them, were there not on earth the possibility of doing good and that of avoiding evil?

DYING MAN - And so your god bungled his work deliberately, in order to tempt or test his creature - did he then not know, did he then not doubt what the result would be?

PRIEST - He knew it undoubtedly but, once again, he wished to leave man the merit of choice.

DYING MAN - And to what purpose, since from the outset he knew the course affairs would take and since, all-mighty as you tell me he is, he had but to make his creature choose as suited him?

PRIEST - Who is there can penetrate God’s vast and infinite designs regarding man, and who can grasp all that makes up the universal scheme?

DYING MAN - Anyone who simplifies matters, my friend, anyone, above all, who refrains from multiplying causes in order to confuse effects all the more. What need have you of a second difficulty when you are unable to resolve the first, and once it is possible that Nature may have all alone done what you attribute to your god, why must you go looking for someone to be her overlord? The cause and explanation of what you do not understand may perhaps be the simplest thing in the world. Perfect your physics and you will understand Nature better, refine your reason, banish your prejudices and you’ll have no further need of your god.

PRIEST - Wretched man! I took you for no worse than a Socinian - arms I had to combat you. But ‘tis clear you are an atheist, and seeing that your heart is shut to the authentic and innumerable proofs we receive every day of our lives of the Creator’s existence - I have no more to say to you. There is no restoring the blind to the light.

DYING MAN - Softly, my friend, own that between the two, he who blindfolds himself must surely see less of the light than he who snatches the blindfold away from his eyes. You compose, you construct, you dream, you magnify and complicate; I sift, I simplify. You accumulate errors, pile one atop the other; I combat them all. Which one of us is blind?

PRIEST - Then you do not believe in God at all?

DYING MAN - No. And for one very sound reason: it is perfectly impossible to believe in what one does not understand. Between understanding and faith immediate connections must subsist; understanding is the very lifeblood of faith; where understanding has ceased, faith is dead; and when they who are in such a case proclaim they have faith, they deceive. You yourself, preacher, I defy you to believe in the god you predicate to me - you must fail because you cannot demonstrate him to me, because it is not in you to define him to me, because consequently you do not understand him - because as of the moment you do not understand him, you can no longer furnish me any reasonable argument concerning him, and because, in sum, anything beyond the limits and grasp of the human mind is either illusion or futility; and because your god having to be one or the other of the two, in the first instance I should be mad to believe in him, in the second a fool.
My friend, prove to me that matter is inert and I will grant you a creator, prove to me that Nature does not suffice to herself and I’ll let you imagine her ruled by a higher force; until then, expect nothing from me, I bow to evidence only, and evidence I perceive only through my senses: my belief goes no farther than they, beyond that point my faith collapses. I believe in the sun because I see it, I conceive it as the focal center of all the inflammable matter in Nature, its periodic movement pleases but does not amaze me. ‘Tis a mechanical operation, perhaps as simple as the workings of electricity, but which we are unable to understand. Need I bother more about it? when you have roofed everything over with your god, will I be any the better off? and shall I still not have to make an effort at least as great to understand the artisan as to define his handiwork?
By edifying your chimera it is thus no service you have rendered me, you have made me uneasy in my mind but you have not enlightened it, and instead of gratitude I owe you resentment. Your god is a machine you fabricated in your passions’ behalf, you manipulated it to their liking; but the day it interfered with mine, I kicked it out of my way, deem it fitting that I did so; and now, at this moment when I sink and my soul stands in need of calm and philosophy, belabor it not with your riddles and your cant, which alarm but will not convince it, which will irritate without improving it; good friends and on the best terms have we ever been, this soul and I, so Nature wished it to be; as it is, so she expressly modeled it, for my soul is the result of the dispositions she formed in me pursuant to her own ends and needs; and as she has an equal need of vices and virtues, whenever she was pleased to move me to evil, she did so, whenever she wanted a good deed from me, she roused in me the desire to perform one, and even so I did as I was bid. Look nowhere but to her workings for the unique cause of our fickle human behavior, and in her laws hope to find no other springs than her will and her requirements.

PRIEST - And so whatever is in this world, is necessary.

DYING MAN - Exactly.

PRIEST - But is everything is necessary - then the whole is regulated.

DYING MAN - I am not the one to deny it.

PRIEST - And what can regulate the whole save it be an all-powerful and all-knowing hand?

DYING MAN - Say, is it not necessary that gunpowder ignite when you set a spark to it?

PRIEST - Yes.

DYING MAN - And do you find any presence of wisdom in that?

PRIEST - None.

DYING MAN - It is then possible that things necessarily come about without being determined by a superior intelligence, and possible hence that everything derive logically from a primary cause, without there being either reason or wisdom in that primary cause.

PRIEST - What are you aiming at?

DYING MAN - At proving to you that the world and all therein may be what it is and as you see it to be, without any wise and reasoning cause directing it, and that natural effects must have natural causes: natural causes sufficing, there is no need to invent any such unnatural ones as your god who himself, as I have told you already, would require to be explained and who would at the same time be the explanation of nothing; and that once ‘tis plain your god is superfluous, he is perfectly useless; that what is useless would greatly appear to be imaginary only, null and therefore non-existent; thus, to conclude that your god is a fiction I need no other argument than that which furnishes me the certitude of his inutility.

PRIEST - At that rate there is no great need for me to talk to you about religion.

DYING MAN - True, but why not anyhow? Nothing so much amuses me as this sign of the extent to which human beings have been carried away by fanaticism and stupidity; although the prodigious spectacle of folly we are facing here may be horrible, it is always interesting. Answer me honestly, and endeavor to set personal considerations aside: were I weak enough to fall victim to your silly theories concerning the fabulous existence of the being who renders religion necessary, under what form would you advise me to worship him? Would you have me adopt the daydreams of Confucius rather than the absurdities of Brahma, should I kneel before the great snake to which the blacks pray, invoke the Peruvian’s sun or Moses’ Lord of Hosts, to which Mohammedan sect should I rally, or which Christian heresy would be preferable in your view? Be careful how you reply.

PRIEST - Can it be doubtful?

DYING MAN - Then ‘tis egotistical.

PRIEST - No, my son, ‘tis as much out of love for thee as for myself I urge thee to embrace my creed.

DYING MAN - And I wonder how the one or the other of us can have much love for himself, to deign to listen to such degrading nonsense.

PRIEST - But who can be mistaken about the miracles wrought by our Divine Redeemer?

DYING MAN - He who sees in him anything else than the most vulgar of all tricksters and the most arrent of all imposters.

PRIEST - O God, you hear him and your wrath thunders not forth!

DYING MAN - No my friend, all is peace and quiet around us, because your god, be it from impotence or from reason or from whatever you please, is a being whose existence I shall momentarily concede out of condescension for you or, if you prefer, in order to accommodate myself to your sorry little perspective; because this god, I say, were he to exist, as you are mad enough to believe, could not have selected as means to persuade us, anything more ridiculous than those your Jesus incarnates.

PRIEST - What! the prophecies, the miracles, the martyrs - are they not so many proofs?

DYING MAN - How, so long as I abide by the rules of logic, how would you have me accept as proof anything which itself is lacking proof? Before a prophecy could constitute proof I should first have to be completely certain it was ever pronounced; the prophecies history tells us of belong to history and for me they can only have the force of other historical facts, whereof three out of four are exceedingly dubious; if to this I add the strong probability that they have been transmitted to us by not very objective historians, who recorded what they preferred to have us read, I shall be quite within my rights if I am Skeptical. And furthermore, who is there to assure me that this prophecy was not made after the fact, that it was not a stratagem of everyday political scheming, like that which predicts a happy reign under a just king, or frost in wintertime?
As for your miracles, I am not any readier to be taken in by such rubbish. All rascals have performed them, all fools have believed in them; before I’d be persuaded of the truth of a miracle I would have to be very sure the event so called by you was absolutely contrary to the laws of Nature, for only what is outside of Nature can pass for miraculous; and who is so deeply learned in Nature that he can affirm the precise point where it is infringed upon? Only two things are needed to accredit an alleged miracle, a mountebank and a few simpletons; tush, there’s the whole origin of your prodigies; all new adherents to a religious sect have wrought some; and more extraordinary still, all have found imbeciles around to believe them. Your Jesus’ feats do not surpass those of Apollonius of Tyana, yet nobody thinks to take the latter for a god; and when we come to your martyrs, assuredly, these are the feeblest of all your arguments. To produce martyrs you need but to have enthusiasm on the one hand, resistance on the other; and so long as an opposed cause offers me as many of them as does yours, I shall never be sufficiently authorized to believe one better than the other, but rather very much inclined to consider all of them pitiable.
Ah my friend! were it true that the god you preach did exist, would he need miracle, martyr, or prophecy to secure recognition? and if, as you declare, the human heart were of his making, would he not have chosen it for the repository of his law? Then would this law, impartial for all mankind because emanating from a just god, then would it be found graved deep and writ clear in all men alike, and from one end of the world to the other, all men, having this delicate and sensitive organ in common, would also resemble each other through the homage they would render the god whence they had got it; all would adore and serve him in one identical manner, and they would be as incapable of disregarding this god as of resisting the inward impulse to worship him. Instead of that, what do I behold throughout this world? As many gods as there are countries; as many different cults as there are different minds or different imaginations; and this swarm of opinions among which it physically impossible for me to choose, say now, is this a just god’s doing?
Fie upon you, preacher, you outrage your god when you present him to me thus; rather let me deny him completely, for if he exists then I outrage him far less by my incredulity than do you through your blasphemies. Return to your senses, preacher, your Jesus is no better than Mohammed, Mohammed no better than Moses, and the three of them combined no better than Confucius, who did after all have some wise things to say while the others did naught but rave; in general, though, such people are all mere frauds: philosophers laughed at them, the mob believed them, and justice ought to have hanged them.

PRIEST - Alas, justice dealt only too harshly with one of the four.

DYING MAN - If he alone got what he deserved it was he who deserved it most richly; seditious, turbulent, calumniating, dishonest, libertine, a clumsy buffoon, and very mischievous; he had the art of overawing common folk and stirring up the rabble; and hence came in line for punishment in a kingdom where the state of affairs was what it was in Jerusalem then. They were very wise indeed to get rid of him, and this perhaps is one case in which my extremely lenient and also extremely tolerant maxims are able to allow the severity of Themis; I excuse any misbehavior save that which may endanger the government one lives under, kings and their majesties are the only thing I respect; and whoever does not love his country and his king were better dead than alive.

PRIEST - But you do surely believe something awaits us after this life, you must at some time or another have sought to pierce the dark shadows enshrouding our mortal fate, and what other theory could have satisfied your anxious spirit, than that of the numberless woes that betide him who has lived wickedly, and an eternity of rewards for him whose life has been good?

DYING MAN - What other, my friend? that of nothingness, it has never held terrors for me, in it I see naught but what is consoling and unpretentious; all other theories are of pride’s composition, this one alone is of reason’s. Moreover, ‘tis neither dreadful nor absolute, this nothingness. Before my eyes have I not the example of Nature’s perpetual generations and regenerations? Nothing perishes in the world, my friend, nothing is lost; man today, worm tomorrow, the day after tomorrow a fly; is it not to keep steadily on existing? And what entitles me to be rewarded for virtues which are in me through no fault of my own, or again punished for crimes wherefore the ultimate responsibility is not mine? how are you to put your alleged god’s goodness into tune with this system, and can he have wished to create me in order to reap pleasure from punishing me, and that solely on account of a choice he does not leave me free will to determine?

PRIEST - You are free.

DYING MAN - Yes, in terms of your prejudices; but reason puts them to rout, and the theory of human freedom was never devised except to fabricate that of grace, which was to acquire such importance in your reveries. What man on earth, seeing the scaffold a step beyond the crime, would commit it were he free not to commit it? We are the pawns of an irresistible force, and never for an instant is it within our power to do anything but make the best of our lot and forge ahead along the path that has been traced for us. There is not a single virtue which is not necessary to Nature and conversely not a single crime which she does not need and it is in the perfect balance she maintains between the one and the other that her immense science consists; but can we be guilty for adding our weight to this side or that when it is she who tosses us onto the scales? no more so than the hornet who thrusts his dart into your skin.

PRIEST - Then we should not shrink from the worst of all crimes.

DYING MAN - I say nothing of the kind. Let the evil deed be proscribed by law, let justice smite the criminal, that will be deterrent enough; but if by misfortune we do commit it even so, let’s not cry over spilled milk; remorse is inefficacious, since it does not stay us from crime, futile since it does not repair it, therefore it is absurd to beat one’s breast, more absurd still to dread being punished in another world if we have been lucky to escape it in this. God forbid that this be construed as encouragement to crime, no, we should avoid it as much as we can, but one must learn to shun it through reason and not through false fears which lead to naught and whose effects are so quickly overcome in any moderately steadfast soul. Reason, sir - yes, our reason alone should warn us that harm done our fellows can never bring happiness to us; and our heart, that contributing to their felicity is the greatest joy Nature has accorded us on earth; the entirety of human morals is contained in this one phrase: Render others as happy as one desires oneself to be, and never inflict more pain upon them than one would like to receive at their hands. There you are, my friend, those are the only principles we should observe, and you need neither god nor religion to appreciate and subscribe to them, you need only have a good heart.
But I feel my strength ebbing away; preacher, put away your prejudices, unbend, be a man, be human, without fear and without hope forget your gods and your religions too: they are none of them good for anything but to set man at odds with man, and the mere name of these horrors has caused greater loss of life on earth than all other wars and all other plagues combined. Renounce the idea of another world; there is none, but do not renounce the pleasure of being happy and of making for happiness in this. Nature offers you no other way of doubling your existence, of extending it. - My friend, lewd pleasures were ever dearer to me than anything else, I have idolized them all my life and my wish has been to end it in their bosom; my end draws near, six women lovelier than the light of day are waiting in the chamber adjoining, I have reserved them for this moment, partake of the feast with me, following my example embrace them instead of the vain sophistries of superstition, under their caresses strive for a little while to forget your hypocritical beliefs.

NOTE

The dying man rang, the women entered; and after he had been a little while in their arms the preacher became one whom Nature had corrupted, all because he had not succeeded in explaining what a corrupt nature is.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Religion is a Disease.

The original article can be found on the BBC.




France chastises Pope on condoms



Pope Benedict meets Cameroon's president, Paul Biya, and his family

The French foreign ministry has voiced "sharp concern" following the Pope's rejection of condom use to fight Aids.


Benedict XVI, who is on a tour of Africa, said handing out condoms only increased the problem of HIV/Aids.


The Roman Catholic Church says marital fidelity and sexual abstinence are the best way to prevent the spread of HIV.


But France, echoing the reaction of some aid agencies, said it "voices extremely sharp concern over the consequences of [the Pope's comments]".


"While it is not up to us to pass judgment on Church doctrine, we consider that such comments are a threat to public health policies and the duty to protect human life," foreign ministry spokesman Eric Chevallier said.


The Pope arrived in Cameroon on Tuesday at the start of his week-long African tour.


"A Christian can never remain silent," he said, after being greeted by President Paul Biya.


HIV/Aids was, he argued, "a tragedy that cannot be overcome by money alone, that cannot be overcome through the distribution of condoms, which can even increase the problem".


The solution lay, he said, in a "spiritual and human awakening" and "friendship for those who suffer".


But some activists were dismayed by the approach, saying condoms were one of the few methods proved to stop the spread of HIV.


Rebecca Hodes, of the Treatment Action Campaign in South Africa said: "His opposition to condoms conveys that religious dogma is more important to him than the lives of Africans."


Some 22 million people are infected with HIV in sub-Saharan Africa, according to UN figures for 2007.


This amounts to about two-thirds of the global total.

Shameful! Absolutely Shameful!

My University is like the Catholic Church. They screw others. They screw themselves.


ECA


IMPORTANT INFORMATION FOR ECA SUBMISSION


1. Take note of the cut-off-date for submission of ECA (for courses conducted in English Language). Refer to Student Handbook Section 8.1: Submitting your end-of-course assessment (ECA).

2. Ensure that all required files (appendices, attachments, etc) are submitted online BEFORE the cut-off-date.

3. Avoid last minute submissions as heavy network traffic may be anticipated.

4. Check that you receive an email notification option of a successful assignment submission.


Cut-off Date: 17 MAR 2009, 1200Noon (REVISED)


The cut-off date was originally on the 16th of March, but they revised it. UniShit could have saved themselves lots of trouble if they had not implemented this pointless ECA and its equally meaningless video presentation.


I don’t know why in Gehenna we have to do a video presentation for our final assessment. We are only part-time students. We have work, family and other obligations to concern ourselves with. The online quizzes, group projects and self-study are taking up even more of our already limited time and it is downright irresponsible for UniShit to impose even more workload on already stretched students. Hell, not even full time business students have to do bullshit like this!


If UniShit could make it compulsory for us to take Effective Communications to learn academic writing, I don’t see why we are not taught how to do presentation when we are obliged to present ourselves on camera! Very few of us actually have to do presentations, let alone an online presentation in our professional life. We may be working adults, but that does not mean we are Toastmasters instructors!


We are not even allowed to use cue cards or read from notes for our video presentation. Again, this is an incredible and ridiculously unreasonable burden for poor Business students to bear. Even a brilliant speaker like Professor Richard Dawkins, an authority in his field and with over thirty years of teaching experience, uses PowerPoint and refers to his notes when he lectures. Some of our lecturers, who are of course subject material experts in their own right, cannot even articulate themselves properly. So what makes UniShit think that students can do any better?! We are not even Mass Communications or English Language students for Christ’s sake!


Come project submission time, UniShit’s infernal system tends to cock up. Knowing well the limitations of their substandard IT, why do the management still make people submit their video online when previously it was the procedure for students to submit their work in a CD? It does not take a rocket scientist to realize that when your system can crash with document files, it will definitely screw up with video files added in. We are not just talking about a ‘mere’ file size of 100mb or less for each student. Multiply that a thousandfold and we are talking about hundreds of gigabytes of data flooding into a system which is already notoriously dodgy! Can anyone with a decent intelligence not expect it to FAIL?



Just pay the management bananas.


Extending the dateline does not solve the problem. On hindsight, a competent management should have realized how stupid and futile their decisions are. Obviously that the management in the School of Business consists of chimpanzees and Neanderthals who don’t understand what is really going on apart from their need of bananas and fire-making. They should all be sent to a school for ‘special persons’ or better still the zoo. They can have all the bananas they want and I promise to throw them a few coconuts when I visit the whole pathetic lot at the Mandai Zoo.

On Sunday I spent an hour submitting my written report, PowerPoint presentation and the video file online. The written report took only a minute or so, although I had to resubmit the PowerPoint presentation a few times. My video (close to 100mb) took nearly half an hour to upload itself into the University system. The system told me to wait; the video was being processed and that I would receive an email confirmation. I was to follow the instructions in the email if I wanted to submit a new copy.


I don’t know what email they were talking about but I didn’t receive any email for any of my three submitted files.



I logged on to check this morning and guess what I saw?


“There is error when processing previously submitted assignment.”



Now, I am certain that there isn’t any problems with my video file. I am able to play it on RealPlayer and Windows Media Player. There are no problems with the image and the sound is audible and free from noise. Therefore UniShit has screwed up yet again.


I called the technical support and I told the guy in no uncertain terms that I would not be given a fail grade because of their stupid system. He said some students are encountering difficulties submitting their video online so UniShit has now allowed us to submit the video personally to the administration block.


They posted this sorry message up a few hours later.



Top of Form

Bottom of Thu, Mar 12, 2009 -- Extension of submission of [name of course]


Dear [name of course] students,


In view of the difficulties in the ECA video submission for some students, the school has decided to extend the ECA deadline to 17 Mar 09 (Tue), 12 noon.


For students who encounter video uploading problems, please contact [technical team] for assistance BEFORE the deadline of 17 Mar 09, 12 noon.


Blackboard Helpdesk Team’s Email : [email]

Blackboard Helpdesk Team’s Contact : [number] (Press ‘2’)

[school]



Yesterday I received two messages on my handphone informing me that I could submit my CD to the University. When I logged in today, guess what I found?



Video Submission


Dear [course], [course], [course] & [course] students,


Firstly, we would like to apologise for difficulties that you have encountered over the online video submission.

To avoid further problems until the current difficulties are resolved, students who have yet to submit their video online successfully, please revert to CD submission at [address] before 7.30pm, starting from today till 20 March 09 (Friday), 7.30pm .


Please be assured that there will be no late penalty imposed for video submission done by 20 March 09 (Friday), 7.30pm .


For students who need assistance on CD creation, please bring along a blank CD, and proceed to [address] at the following timeslots:

---------------------------------------------------------

17 March 09: 5pm – 9pm

18 - 19 March 2009: 3pm – 9pm

---------------------------------------------------------

Therefore, to summarise CD submission can be made at the following date, time & venue:-

1) 17 March – 19 March 09


- before 7.30pm submit to [address] counter


- between 7.30pm and 9pm submit to [address]


2) 20 March 09 before 7.30pm submit ONLY to [address]


(Please note that [address] is only opened from 17 March 2009 till 19 March 2009, 9pm.)


Kindly note that this special arrangement is only applicable for video submission, all Reports and Powerpoints have to be submitted online and by the stipulated due date and time (i.e. 12 noon).


Thank you for your understanding.


[School]



My, how gracious of them! How considerate!


Why am I not surprised?




From the University’s online Discussion Board:


“Topic: tips for ECA (End of Course Assessment) Name Date/Time

Topic: tips for ECA (End of Course Assessment) Name Date/Time

Topic: tips for ECA (End of Course Assessment) Name Date/Time

Topic: tips for ECA (End of Course Assessment) Name Date/Time

Topic: tips for ECA (End of Course Assessment) Name Date/Time

Topic: tips for ECA (End of Course Assessment) Name Date/Time

……….”


I counted thirty-one posts from the ‘tips for ECA’ thread.


I am not violently against people who choose to plagiarize, but I hope these people had shown some intelligence. If they want to collude with one another, at least have the good sense NOT TO ADVERTISE! Like other universities, UniShit takes an ‘officially’ strong stance against collusion and plagiarism. Doing a shitty part-time course is bad enough. Please do not give the damn management a chance to clamp down on students and make our existence more miserable.


We don’t’ need more imbeciles when the School of Business has more than adequately filled the imbecile quota normally required for institutions of this nature.


They are everywhere.



Friday, March 13, 2009

Jame5


Imagine a world where nothing is what it seems.


Guido discovers he is a cleverly engineered simulacrum. In a daring experiment he elevates himself to quasi-divine status. Empowered with transcendental wisdom and godlike intelligence, Guido engages undersecretary Frank in philosophical discussion as he shapes the world in his metaphysical image.


Stefan Pernar does not write. He tells. Science fiction is often criticized as being so far-fetched as to be unbelievable, but Jame5 stands out for its realism. The reader is transported to a futuristic world where reputation is currency, crime is rendered obsolete and life is in fast-forward mode. The fast-paced story drives the reader to turn the pages furiously for each new and unexpected development. The dialogues between Frank and Guido are reminiscent of the Marquis de Sade’s A Dialogue Between a Priest and a Dying Man. The transmission of wisdom from ubermensch to mere mortal takes on an ultra-futuristic tone, yet retains the primal joy which accompanies enlightenment.


Despite laden with philosophical and scientific notions, the book remains accessible to the non-intelligentsia. The discourse on evolution and levels of control is particularly impressive. Is compos mentis truly possible? What is truth? Jame5 goes beyond ‘a tale of good and evil’. It challenges its readers to confront their cherished beliefs.


Unfortunately the book is let down by glaring typos. Although the archetypal Hollywood obsessive will find the ending anticlimactic, readers of a more thoughtful persuasion will appreciate the elegance in its no-frills conclusion.



Rating: 4/5

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Circus

I believe whatever doesn't kill you, simply makes you... stranger. – The Joker



The job fair I went to yesterday could only be described as a circus. The interview rooms reminded me of game booths, the organizers circus masters and unlike other carnivals, the freaks mingled so freely with the marks they virtually became one homogeneous crowd.

Even without a tie, I was easily the best dressed in the pathetic crowd. Most of the guys dressed either in casual attire (shirt and jeans) or downright casual (T-shirt and jeans). The overage ragamuffins notwithstanding, some seemed stuck in the 60s and 70s. With their unshaven face, unkempt hair, they looked just like hippies. Someone should tell them that the Beatles are no more, Fallout Boys are in, thanks for the memories, wake up and have a nice day. The ladies were not as daring in their attire as the men were, but they looked old and tired. Same for most of the people that thronged the place. A parade of dolls that have seen better days but are now tattered, forgotten and unwanted.

The more I looked at my dear countrymen and women, the more depressed I felt. There is no dignity. What is the use of being so loyal to a company, of working so hard and dedicating the best years of your life to your job, only to be discarded when you are old and deemed surplus to requirements?

In a way we are all toys. No matter how pretty and fun we might have been, when the novelty wears off, we are nothing. To the rag-and-bone man for some. To the charities for others. A few end up in the streets and trash collection, bound for the incinerator and there’s nothing anybody can do about it, or wants to. There are no fairy tale endings, no white knights riding to the rescue. We are just commodities. Having abolished feudalism, we have unwittingly cast away the dignity and liberty that we have fought so hard for, and snared ourselves to the yoke of capitalism and become less than humans. We are nothing beyond our perceived value in monetary terms. Say what you want about the purity of the human spirit, the ineffable joy of transcending your base mortality, of spiritually elevating yourself, go on with your wretched rhetoric and delude yourself! Ultimately the world cares nothing for us. We are not special. There is no sanctity of life. No universal morals and justice. Nothing, save self-deception and hypocrisy, opiums essential in a society that takes back from you tenfold of what it gives.

If you attribute my cynicism to my current straits then you err in your assessment. Bitterness and jealousy are not requisite for discerning the truth of the world. If I were rich and powerful, I would most likely have echoed the same sentiments. I would probably be more boastful in my vehemence, for it is I who will exploit and profit from my understanding. After all, the meek might have inherited the earth, but the strong owns the mineral rights.

Here are some interesting characters whom I met:


ENERGIZER BUNNY
A perky bloke accosted me, asked which position I was applying for.

‘Admin assistant’, I said.

His eyes lit up. ‘Oh really! Admin assistant. I also,’ His expression grew perkier.

Then he glanced away, turned back to me and asked me the same question.

I stared at him and repeated myself.

Apparently satisfied, the bloke turned, grinned like a village idiot and proceeded to harass the unfortunate soul standing behind him.


LOST
Some time after Energizer Bunny left, another bloke asked me about the position I was applying for.

After I answered him, he took on a strange expression and mumbled in a confused voice, ‘They didn’t tell us to wear long sleeved shirt.’

‘I thought it’s understood.’ I said.

He continued to look at me blankly. He struck a pitiful sight, with his old T-shirt, faded jeans and worn New Balance shoes. I hope he didn’t have aspirations of becoming an administrative assistant. Meanwhile, someone please remind him to breathe.

Saturday, March 7, 2009

Another Meaningless Chapter

This SMS woke me up yesterday morning:


Pls check email for invite to 2nd interview – [cuntpany]


I checked my email, and as promised:


Whoreson at 8.59am.

Hi Cxxxxx,

You are invited to 2nd interview on Monday (9th March), 1.15pm
This is my only slot avail on Monday. Pls make time for it.

Pls confirm your attendance.

Regards, [whoreson]
[designation]
[cuntpany]


Whoreson can go to Hell before I turn up for his interview.

Whoreson is either being disrespectful or lacking in business writing skills. Probably both. In business correspondence, please do not use SMS lingo like ‘pls’, and short-forms like ‘avail.’ It makes you look bad. I wonder if Whoreson writes like this when addressing his CEO and his clients.

And why in the Hells am I being ‘invited’ to the second interview when I was dismissed within ONE MINUTE during the first? Obviously Whoreson has never heard of the saying ‘once bitten twice shy.’

I am still fuming over what happened during the first interview. I was told to report at 5.45pm but I was fifteen minutes earlier. Whoreson told me to wait until the stated time. Seeing there were two other candidates waiting and that I was too early, I agreed.

While waiting at the nearby bus-stop, I saw the two candidates leave the building at around 5.40pm. Five minutes later I arrived back at the cuntpany. The door to the interview room opened and seeing it was my time to go, I walked towards it, only to be barred by the cold and unsmiling Whoreson.

He told me to sit down at the sofa, which I compiled. A pretty lady took my slot and went in. Two other people shared the sofa with me, another attractive lady and a man. They were talking to each other and to pass the time I timed the length of the interview. The lady who was inside talked to Whoreson for fifteen minutes. After she left, the guy next to me went in and got five minutes, maybe less.

Miss Attractive took her turn and she spent quite a time with Whoreson. I heard them laughing over something and I saw Miss Attractive gave him her name card. When he opened the door – not before shaking her dainty hand of course – they were smiling at each other like lovers.

After Miss Attractive left I went in. I offered my hand but Whoreson didn’t bother to take it. Impatience evident on his face, he waved me to sit.

He asked me which position I was applying for. I said that I was applying for a marketing position. He looked a bit confused and asked me to specify. I replied that the job advertisement he put up didn’t specify the exact position. (Judging from the two lines that made up the job description it would not be erroneous to say the position involved marketing.) Whoreson wasn’t impressed with me. I could see that his expression remained as black, as if I just raped his mother and asked him to compensate me for the abuse I took. You could argue that it was my mistake (it wasn’t my fault in the first place) which displeased him. However, it doesn’t take perfect eyesight to see that Whoreson showed me the same expression even before the interview.

‘So you are going for corporate sales?’, Whoreson asked.

Left with no alternative, I nodded.

He scanned through my resume. ‘You have been working in supporting positions all this while. What makes you think you can do a front-line job?’

His question threw me off momentarily. I recovered and said being in a supporting role doesn’t mean I can’t do a front-line position. I went on to say that as a business graduate, I would be able to apply what I have learned.

In all fairness, I admit that my delivery wasn’t as articulate as I would have liked. Some professional interviewers and Toastmasters instructors may even frown at my answer. But my eyes were on the bastard’s face all the while and all I saw was derision, condescension, contempt, impatience and he nodded at every line of my speech as if I was born to amuse him.

‘You can go now. If you are shortlisted for the second interview we will call you.’ He hurriedly got up, opened the door and waved me out. I looked at him, asked him, ‘that fast?’ but Whoreson obviously felt I was too inferior to merit his replying. I offered him my hand and again he didn’t shake it.

I was so disgusted that I couldn’t stop cursing on my way back to the train station. One would expect a manager to at least show some basic courtesy. I don’t know what happened to him when he was young. I assume that his father was marketing his wife while his mother was too busy turning tricks. This sordid childhood he endured must have a detrimental impact on his character, which would explain why such an anal-retentive bastard like himself could climb the corporate ladder so readily. He must have learned from his harlot of a mother the best way to give head.

It didn’t escape my notice that Whoreson spent a lot of time with his female interviewees. The ladies got fifteen and twenty minutes; the other guys got five minutes each and I one minute. I don’t think gender preference is stipulated in the job description. I think Whoreson is the kind of cheap bastard who doesn’t even want to pay $50 for a cheap whore in Geylang. If the bastard wanted a cheaper whore I could show him around the lorongs where $10 whores are available. Desker Road is also a good place for a cheapskate. After he has had his ten dollars’ worth of pleasure we can even go for some curry in the nearby Little India. Or maybe he doesn’t patronize such places because he doesn’t want to meet his mother and sister (if he had one) hawking their silicon-enhanced wares and peddling their abused flesh for a dollar to foreign laborers.

There are men who fantasize about having sex in the office, with nurses, secretaries and air hostesses, who relish being in a superior or subordinate role in role-playing, and it would come as no surprise if Whoreson belonged in this category. Maybe he hasn’t had a date in his entire life, having been snubbed by every female of every species which he tried so adamantly to accost and seduce. It must masturbate his ego to have a pretty woman talk and smile with him, even though she has an ulterior motive. Humans rely on fantasies and delusions to keep ourselves sane, and even a sub-species like Whoreson is no exception to the rule.

Still, one does not shit where one eats. Whoreson has never understood this principle and while his brain resides in his ‘little head’ as a result of his deprived childhood and evolutionary misfiring, he would never recognize it.

So why am I called to go for the second interview? The answers are obvious and none too flattering. One, the majority of the interviewees were still employed, meaning that they would see his job as a part-time assignment and therefore unable to commit much time and energy. Two, after eliminating the people who are deemed non-committed, he is still left with a pool of candidates. The second round is yet another elimination process and the third will be the confirmation. Third, he probably sees me as unsophisticated and therefore moldable and exploitable.

Another reason is that his other candidates have all REJECTED him. He needs people desperately and I’m one of the few who is left. It doesn’t matter to Whoreson how many people he calls to his interview. He doesn’t even bother to read the resumes. He gets paid handsomely for amusing himself with squirming and ingratiating candidates. He doesn’t need to break a sweat for doing a cushy job but the interviewees would have to spend time and energy getting to his obscure office. In other words, Whoreson doesn’t care.

Having dismissed me with such finality, it is inexplicable that he would give me a second chance. The way he conducted his interview is shameful. It makes me wonder what kind of company he works for, a marketing company or a social escort agency. Judging from the fact that the ladies were very well ‘interviewed’, it would not be amiss to claim the latter.

One can argue that I should just go for his fucking interview because I need a job. What differentiates us from dogs is pride and self-respect. Dogs have neither; they eat shit and shit where they like. There are certain jobs like social escorts and high class whores - the two are often used synonymously – that pay very well, but would you want your wife and daughters to go into the profession?

I have grave doubts about Whoreson’s sincerity. I dare say it would yet being another wasted trip, a trip which yields the same insufferable process and inevitable conclusion. Why should I waste my time going there to be insulted, especially when the motherfucker is just fucking around like what his prostitute mother does every night, even when she has her monthly courses? I don’t mind taking the trouble of going for interviews, tiring and despairing these may turn out to be, but the other party MUST at least be SINCERE.

I remember an interview I had with a jewellery technician. The job involved repairing minor damages to expensive jewellery. The guy who interviewed me described himself as uneducated. He got into the line because he had no other alternative. He spoke to me in a very matter-of-fact fashion and said there was no need for me to follow his footsteps because I have a bright future. The guy said he would employ me – I had passed his eyesight tests – but I should think it over. We talked for a while and he narrated to me that how he had fifty-year olds who went for the interview and he had to turn them away because they couldn’t see as well. But he at least bothered to ‘entertain’ (this is my language) them.

Now, the difference between this uneducated technician and the well-educated Whoreson is apparent. Both are managers, but unlike Whoreson, the technician understands what is decency and basic respect. For all his education, Whoreson doesn’t know the difference between the corporate pricks he sucks and his own when addressing people. Is it so damn demeaning for one of his station to practise basic courtesy, even to people he rejects?

After I narrated my ordeal to my classmate who is in finance, she shrugged knowingly. She told me that anal-retentive interviewers are a dime a dozen. Even if the bastard employs me, there is no point in working under him, she said. A person who cannot treat people right the first time cannot be expected to treat people right the second. It’s no big loss. She seemed to identify with the view that women, especially the pretty ones enjoy a huge advantage in the corporate world. (I don’t know how true this is. If anyone reading this works in the business industry, please enlighten me.)

I am having serious thoughts about pursuing my business degree. Perhaps my taking up a business course is reactionary and retaliatory in nature. I remember acutely my disgust during my poly days when I saw the easy lives business students led compared to the shit engineering students found ourselves in. While we were struggling in vain to get the damn machine to work, all the BA people had to do was to set up stalls selling Valentine and Chinese New Year’s gift items and that was their final-year project.

Moreover, my hatred for engineering stems partly from dissatisfaction and jealousy. I was so ridiculously bad at engineering that even my lab assistant advised me to quit. Despite my best efforts I was barely passing my subjects (If I got an E, it was a massive cause for celebration.) I looked at my friends in Business and how they complained about their assignments and it enraged me. (I looked through one – Business Law – and I was stuck by how easy the questions were, even through I wasn’t a business student.) It was a case of the moon being brighter on the other side, albeit with some justification. Why endure three and a half years of incomprehensible maths and science when I could easily write my way out of Management, Human Resources, Organizational Behavior and Business Law – these are very simple at polytechnic level.

My juvenile petty hatreds aside, working life was unfortunately no different from school. Every day I sweat for slave wages, my existence revolved around a lousy machine which should have been scraped long ago but somehow by the most tragic turn of fate I had to maintain. I have had hydraulics and industrial grease splashed into my eyes, nearly lost one when I lightly brushed my cornea against a vent – a fraction of an inch the wrong way and I would have been blinded. The grime I got on my person could not easily be washed off. Even after half an hour of showering the smell still persisted. I constantly wondered why I was doing this, whom I was doing it for. I looked at people in Shenton Way, the people in smart suits and who got all the opportunities to travel and all I got was an enforced stay in this cuntry that I hate and having no opportunities to improve myself. It ate at me like a cancer. Every day I dwelled on it and every day I suffered. I was determined to get into Business, which I perceived would afford me the opportunities I crave.

I am increasingly critical of the business course I am enduring. The workload is inhumane and students have little chance of exploring the subject and the way the course is structured forces students to sacrifice intellectual curiosity for tips and ready answers. (40% is a good result ladies and gentlemen, 40% to pass the course, 40% to get that piece of paper.) To compound the situation, some of the assignments are so poorly written that it would be a travesty to say that they are university papers.

I know I have been whining ad nauseam and it would not be unreasonable to dismiss my claims as indicative of a ‘loser’ mentality. However, when my fellow course mates, some of whom are in their first season – echo the same sentiments, something is obviously wrong. Like the engineering course I miraculously passed in poly, the degree I would get would be one that I secured without knowing anything about the requisite material.

Quite a few of my course mates have expressed their disillusionment by voting with their feet. I am inclined to do the same. After my encounter with Whoreson, I am beginning to wonder if I should be in business. After all, I don’t backstab people. I don’t like to exploit people. I don’t like to put on a mask and give head to get ahead. There are many aspects of business that I hate. I hate people. I hate ‘relations management.’ I hate the sanctimonious and hypocritical corporate values and overuse of the word integrity and paying lip service to ethics. I hate them all. The only enticing thing I could possibly find in the corporate world is the possibility of making use of people whom I hate. Use them like I was used. It gives me great motivation. I am still desperate for the fat paycheck and foreign assignments of course, but I now start to wonder which is truly my primary incentive. Payback or monetary.

As for Whoreson I hope he dies a slow and painful death. If I saw him helpless and bleeding to death on the road – the corpse I saw on Valentine’s Day comes to mind – I would go over and gloat. I will spit in his face. My ridicule would be the last thing he sees before he expires. I will give his carcass a good kick before I leave. I don’t know why I hate Whoreson so much. Maybe it’s because he exemplifies what is truly wrong with this world, what is anathema to me, an assault on my sensibilities and a desecration of the few values I still possess.

When that day comes, I will regret there is no Hell for Whoreson to go to.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Fun with WC

Mr. W ended his affair during the weekend. He was so traumatized he took MC today. I have a feeling there will be a sequel. So it’s one down, one to go. When I asked him what he is going to do with his wife he didn’t give me a definite answer. The situation is as sticky as the one in Gaza. His mother doesn’t want him to divorce her so he is caught in the middle. Between responsibility to his mother and following his heart and good sense, which will emerge the stronger?

As a friend, I naturally offered him my two cents worth. I said that there is no point in dragging on and prolonging the agony; it’s time he makes a clean break and get his life back. I would have done the same if I were him. A marriage without love is as appetizing as moldy bread. It belongs in the trash bin.



Like my friend Mr. W, Mr. C is also caught between responsibility and his heart. However, where the former is still vacillating and likely to let responsibility take priority, Mr. C told me he is choosing his buxom Chinese girlfriend over his estranged wife and little boy. From what I gathered, his Chinese girlfriend is not as ‘dead fish’ in the boudoir as his ex-wife was. The latter still loves him and wants him back, but in love things are very complicated. Mr. C understands that his boy will hate him to the core when he grows up. So be it, as Mr. C said.

Mr. C is also a lady’s man. He is currently having intimate relations with his female colleague. Ironically, the person who recommended him his current job is the boyfriend of the girl Mr. C has been sleeping with. We are indoctrinated from young that a good deed begets another. How wrong our conventional morality is, what a weak and harmful exercise! Mr. C wants to break it off, but he has to do it with great discretion. His colleague’s boyfriend is a hooligan and he doesn’t want to be on the end of a hiding.

Monday, March 2, 2009

Inspiration & Funnies

All universal moral principles are idle fancies. – Marquis de Sade

It is not my mode of thought that has caused my misfortunes, but the mode of thought of others. – Marquis de Sade

Truth titillates the imagination far less than fiction. –Marquis de Sade

There is no God, Nature sufficeth unto herself; in no wise hath she need of an author. – Marquis de Sade

Would that the Roman people had but one neck! – Caligula

They tell us that suicide is the greatest piece of cowardice... that suicide is wrong; when it is quite obvious that there is nothing in the world to which every man has a more unassailable title than to his own life and person. – Arthur Schopenhauer

Some men are alive simply because it is against the law to kill them. – Edward W. Howe

The death of one man is a tragedy. The death of millions is a statistic. – Joseph Stalin

I trust no one, not even myself – Joseph Stalin

If religion were true, its followers would not try to bludgeon their young into an artificial conformity; but would merely insist on their unbending quest for truth, irrespective of artificial backgrounds or practical consequences. – H.P Lovecraft

Bunch together a group of people deliberately chosen for strong religious feelings, and you have a practical guarantee of dark morbidities expressed in crime, perversion, and insanity. - H.P Lovecraft

The passion for destruction is also a creative passion. – Mikhail Bakunin

Therefore, if God existed, only in one way could he serve human liberty - by ceasing to exist. – Mikhail Bakunin

If you tell a big enough lie and tell it frequently enough, it will be believed. – Adolf Hitler

By the skillful and sustained use of propaganda, one can make a people see even heaven as hell or an extremely wretched life as paradise. – Adolf Hitler

The broad masses of a population are more amenable to the appeal of rhetoric than to any other force. – Adolf Hitler


Engineering is not good for health.

Need to get four numbers from this fellow.

It's official: Singaporeans are stupid.

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Have a Nice Day

Today is a funny day.

I played football in the morning and busted my left ankle while blocking a shot. I had to leave the field but fortunately I could still walk, albeit with some discomfort.

On the way home I took the right bus in the wrong direction. The bus – it’s air-con system was as busted as my ankle was) – took me to the foreigner workers’ dormitories in some backwater part of Jurong West. I was amazed at the sea of humanity and even more so at the overpowering smell it carried. I decided then I had to make my way out as fast as possible. I had to trudge over a kilometer before I reached the Pioneer train station. It was a good thing my ankle was only slightly sprained and not broken.

I arrived home at around two. After my shower I thought I would have a nap before making my way down to Marina Atrium for the Media Arts exhibition. However, the storm came and I slept through the whole afternoon. I didn’t realize how damn tired I was.

I woke up, had dinner and then found a very funny message displayed on my Business Law project mates’ msn window: “[name] is not meant for schooling.” Another project mate’s read: crap… I think they are absolutely right. Our group is dysfunctional, our report crap and the two girls are not meant for schooling.

It is highly likely that we will fail our Business Law report. I can imagine what the reaction will be. The girls will always blame the guy – this is how much things are in this cuntry. To our overrated and overpriced women (I mean this in a general sense. There are some local lasses who are very decent. Unfortunately these are few and far between.) This is a story for another day so I’ll just get on with it.

The pretty girl sent us her answers. Her script reminds me of her: pretty, but not much substance to spare. She has been calling for a “Business Law guru” on her Facebook. Apparently she didn’t think her teammates were capable enough. I have been asking her to get her points down; I could do the writing. No reply. I asked her if she needed help. No reply. I admit that my answers are shite but their answers are not much better. (The lecturer might give me a zero for my ten pages and award them good marks for their contributions. You never know with lawyers.) It could happen. Anyway, this is the first time I have seen someone use coloured letters in academic writing. Marks for aesthetics maybe?

The other one was on leave so she had plenty of time to do the report. She could have contacted me to discuss the project but she didn’t. I received her email telling me to send her a finalized copy of my answers so that she didn’t have to do so much work. Fair enough. I gave her the go-ahead to take the latest answers . I didn’t even bother to vet through. As far as I’m concerned enough is enough. I hate enough of this bullshit. When the lecturer was explaining in class how to write the report - he didn’t give us any hints or answers – the two lovely ladies were more interested in looking at pictures of dogs and jabbering about the Singapore Flyer, Las Vegas and the holidays they had. (Another thing about women who love dogs – most of them are insecure and like the curs and bitches they keep, noisy, emotional and can’t survive without some fool to fuss over them.)

So the project is done. I haven’t confirmation of the submission but I’m not going to call. The girl submitting it can drop me a mail. I just need to score over five out of thirty marks in this report to pass the continuous component. I am not taking an Honours degree so I can fuck care my GPA. It’s also quite likely we won’t even score 16.67%, such is the trash we produced. Anyway, I am content with my trashy answers and whatever happens I have done whatever I could and if I am to be held accountable for every fuck thing that happens I might as well change my name to Jesus Christ.

My first failed assignment in this university. Truly momentous!

Friday, February 27, 2009

A Mediocre World

Examination Timetable for [date] Semester (Revised)


Dear [name of university] Student


Please refer to the revised examination timetable for [date] semester attached below: Examination Timetable for [Date] Semester


Best wishes to your examination.


[department/name of university]



Thanks. I'll send your kind regards to my examination script when I see it.




Meanwhile in other uplifting news:


$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ reward for FAILURE. Bankers get the best deals.


It's time we get rid of the UN. Atheists get fucked again.


For once, a priest shows some integrity.







Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Ambition

My ambition is to be a mercenary.

Friday, February 20, 2009

Integrity? No Such Thing!

Manicure II
I need a fresh manicure. Some of my nails are out of shape, and one has chipped. All that scratching during my sleep has caused some damage. My nails grow very fast. Cats scratch their claws to keep them short and sharp. Likewise, to maintain my nails, I should file them regularly.


Financial Planning
I received my marks for my Financial Planning module. 81 marks is pretty good for the nonsense I wrote and submitted. I can’t wait to finish the second assignment and be done with the course. This course is useless. Can you truly plan for the future? All that financial projections, so-called benefits and ‘wealth management’ schemes that will mature in thirty years’ time will avail you not should you die in a road accident the next day. Why deprive yourself of the things you could have done if you had not invested all that money? To the Hells with tomorrow and what happens after we die. We only live once. Make the best use of it.

A common sales script used by a ‘financial planner’ and its ilk goes something like this: By not doing financial planning (meaning buying insurance and other schemes), we would be doing our loved ones a disservice when we die and they are left bereft. This is one of the stupidest things I have ever heard. It does not take a rocket scientist to see the fallacy of this argument. First, as aforementioned, we are depriving ourselves of a life should we set aside that amount of money. Second, if we apply this to every generation, then it follows that each generation will be living under self-imposed debt and restrictions. Third, even you live long enough to get that massive payback, will you be able to truly enjoy it when you are weakened with age, suffering from poor, eyesight, hearing problems, muscle aches, world-weary to the bone and waiting to die? Fourth, there are many things that could have happened in the meantime. You could get married. The contraceptives could fail and suddenly you are a parent when you haven’t even planned for it. If you are in business, you can get sued for breach of contract law. A million and one things and that damn piece of financial report your insurance agent gets you to sign will never cover them all. Fifth, the insurance company can collapse. Look what happened to big corporations during this economic crisis! Lehmann Brothers wiped out, AIG had to survive on handouts – taxpayers’ money – and who knows if AIA or Prudential can go under tomorrow.

Nothing is permanent and lasting anymore. No more job security, marriages are now mere contracts, and in this new world, to claim you can plan for anything is downright ridiculous.


Job Seeking
If you are looking for employment and do not want to be an insurance agent, I recommend you take these job ads with a pinch of salt:

Management Trainee/Consultant
Relationship Manager/Executive/Consultant
Relations Manager/Executive/Advisor/Consultant
Telemarketer
Financial Manager/Executive/Planner/Advisor/Consultant
Telesales (with/without the word executive after telesales)
Sales and Marketing Trainee/Advisor/Executive/Manager/Consultant
Associate Manager/Executive
Wealth Management Trainee/Associate/Manager/Executive/Consultant
Wealth Care Manager/Executive/Consultant/Advisor/Associate
Business Trainee/Associate/Manager/Executive/Consultant
Sales Trainee/Associate/Manager/Executive/Consultant
Marketing Trainee/Associate/Manager/Executive/Consultant

Also beware of:

Earn [insert astronomical sum] in [insert ridiculous timeframe].
21 years old at least, 4 ‘O’ level passes (These are the entry requirements for an insurance agent.)
No experience needed.
ORD personnel welcome.
Fantastic projections. Examples include: Achieve Financial Freedom!, Manage Your Own Time/People/Money.

The list is not exhaustive. When in doubt, please contact the representor for further details.

An insurance agent may justify their prevarication with the argument that they are doing ‘creative advertising’ or ‘marketing’. After all, an insurance agent is also ‘managing relations’ and ‘wealth management’, so there is nothing wrong with their advertisement. They are not out to con anybody.

That may be true. In that case, why don’t hookers call themselves ‘ relations manager’? Are they not managing relations? Sexual relations is still relations...

People in the business world (I include insurance, banking, finance and sales) always talk about integrity like their lives depend on it. The word integrity is so overused it has lost its meaning. There is no room for integrity in business. If integrity existed then there wouldn’t be any need for lawyers. Calls for corporate governance would not have arisen in the current economic crisis. The “integrity” in the business world is essentially this: if you can get away with it, it is integrity. Bear in mind that businesses are only concerned with making money. All that social responsibility and holistic approaches are merely rhetoric and nothing more, designed to convey a false sense of morals so that they can use this perceived morals to generate more income.

The next time an insurance agent tries to…ahem, manage relations with you, ask him what does he really want, to enrich your life or to sell you that piece of insurance so that he can meet his sales quotas and look forward to higher pay for that month and that lucrative cashback he gets annually from the policies he sold. There is no need to be nice. If you can ignore the pleas of an old bag selling tissue papers I don’t see why you can’t tell a bloody salesman to put his scams where the sun does not shine. Is there any difference between the uncouth tissue paper peddler and the smartly dressed peddlers?

Of course not. They are both peddlers. They care nothing for you. They just want your money. You are just meat to them, no better than a used condom and a semen-stained piece of tissue paper when the sex is done.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Sleepless in Singapore

Valentine’s Day
A friend (let’s call him Mr. W) messaged me to say that he is going to Vietnam to end his affair. I advised him to end his relationship with his Chinese wife as well. Mr. W once told me he have had enough of women from China. In that case why prolong the agony? He never loved her anyway. He may not realize it, but my advice to him is the best Valentine’s gift he will ever receive.

Cursed, possibly damned
When my project mate came to class, she sat and left two empty seats between us. I don’t know why. Do I have two horns on my head, a fanged smile and a long forked tail? Last time I checked, I looked rather normal, albeit not handsome by any standard. Maybe it was night time and she feared I would shapechange into some beast, howl at the moon and then proceed to ravish her. Again, if I had lycanthropy I didn’t know anything about it. She only deigned to speak to me when she wanted to know how our project was coming along. She also enquired about my job-hunting. Her concern touched me, touches me still and it makes me want to be a better man so that I can be good enough for her. To the Eighteen Hells with the fucking Law assignment!

Missed it!
I let loose a string of profanities when I logged on my university website and found I missed my end-of-chapter quizzes. The “ – “ on my grades for the two missed quizzes stared me in the face and mocked me. Still cursing, I cleared the next two, just in case I forgot again. I am sick of online studying. I am sick and tired of wasting my time with stupid online quizzes when I’d rather be having a face-to-face discussion with my professors. The next NTU, NUS or SMU full-time student who complains to me about how sickening school life is gets it big time.

Valentine Day II
There didn’t appear to be many happy couples walking around on V-Day. The deepening recession must have dampened the romantic spirit. The whoreson who said that two can live as cheaply as one was either a fairy or a virgin. Love is all about money. Women always sprout bullshit like how they prefer guys who are humorous, kind and witty but in the end they always go for the moneybags. When was the last time you saw a rubbish collector walking around with a hot chick? Look around every restaurant and shop on V-Day – it makes you feel inflation has risen 1,000% in a single day. Money may not buy you love (bullshit), but it can pay for the Viagra, condom and hotel room. Just go to Geylang, they know lots of loving all right. To Hell with romantic love, Hallmark cards, Tiffany’s, roses and candlelight dinners. And Valentine’s Day? I’ve seen road kills more appealing.

Nuisance calls
The lady from the Whitelight job agency called me and asked me if I am looking for a job. It was the fifth time she had called me and she still sounded clueless. How the Hell did she expect me to tell her my expected salary when she didn’t even specify what kind of job it was? She didn’t even know what in Tartarus the company was looking for. If she had bothered to even glance at my resume she would not have wasted our time. I should apply to be a recruiter or headhunter. If this is the standard these days I think I’d make management in no time.

Restless
I saw quite a few students practicing martial arts when I was in SP today. How I envy my juniors. During my time, the martial arts clubs in the polytechnic were so poorly run that organized training was hard to come by. Now, there is practice every day. Seeing them kick and punch brought a thrill down my spine. I have a lot of nervous energy. Physical pursuits like football have become too mild for me. I need a partner to spar with. I suppose I could sign up for a martial arts class in one of those fancy gyms. I could also take up white-collared boxing. But no. They won’t have weapon training. I love the spear, the staff, the sword and my favourite, the sabre. Too bad my master is not taking in disciples. After I attain a certain proficiency I’ll go pick some fights. If I ever get to migrate to the US or Canada, the first thing I would get is a real blade. I hate the bloody sword/sabre foils these bloody “contemporary” martial artists use. Let’s see how these jokers handle the weight of a real sword.

19-02-2009, 12.29am
I should be working on my Business Law project but instead I am writing all these. I don’t know why. Maybe writing relaxes me, gives my existence some resemblance of meaning. I curse the day I took up engineering and I still rue the day I put pen to paper and joined the military. Seven years gone to Gehenna, if you count the fucking two and a half years of slavery we true blue Singaporean males have to endure. (It’s called National Service and a male foreigner who decides to say the national pledge DOES NOT need to serve.) Instead of being a third-class citizen in this dungpile of a cuntry, why not be a second or third class citizen elsewhere? I’d gladly exchange my pink IC for a Canadian citizenship. Some people told me that I don’t know better, that I would appreciate this cuntry once I have been around the world. That is not being fair. First, they are making assumptions about me, that I know absolutely nothing about this world, therefore I am not qualified to judge for myself. (What am I now, Sarah Palin?) Second, they are imposing their personal feelings on me and demanding that I think like them. It is not my fault that I have never worked in a foreign country. I signed on the military because I thought I would be given the chance to travel. Join the army they say, see the world they say – four years in service and I was still grounded. A grounded personnel in the “Sky’s the Limit air force. I don’t know whether to cry or laugh. It’s not that I don’t want to go, unlike some idiots who turned down lucrative work attachments in the US. It’s just that I don’t have the chance and were I not an atheist I would have smashed the damn ancestral tablet in my house and thrown out my useless ancestors and their sorry ghosts for not looking out for me. Sometimes being an atheist really sucks. When shit happens, you can’t blame the gods.

19-02-2009, 1am
I am thirsty. I feel like a drink. Funnily enough I don’t feel like sleeping. I hate mornings. There is something wretched about the dawn of a new day. I love the night. The darkness and quiet comfort me, shroud me with peace and fill me with insights I could never have in the bright of day.

Manicure
The Lass says I am obsessed with my manicured nails. She is right. My nails grow quite fast. Already my nails are losing the curve the Lass filed for me. I can restore my nails back to their original shape, but I choose not to. May they grow, and grow fast. When they are long enough I shall file them each into a square shape. Then I shall apply some light polish to their tips. It’s time to consult the Lass again. She is now my beauty consultant.

Guess I have nothing more to write. – 1.25am.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Another Rant

Police Car messaged me using a new phone number. He asked me to lend him $500 because his employers have not updated the change in his bank account and therefore could not pay him until the next payday. He also promised to pay me back once he received his overseas allowance for his Thailand detachment. This is ridiculous. An overpaid air force staff sergeant wants to borrow money from an unemployed part-time student. After working for nearly a decade, his expenses mainly going to his studies (which he dropped out), his church, family allowance and daily expenses, and having no car, housing loans and girlfriend to pay off, the guy has to live on a month to month basis. And now he borrows money from me, and yet had the money to get a new line.

I think Police Car should quit his gambling. He knows little about football anyway, and making his investment decisions based on the league tables is never the smartest thing to do. The ball is not just round, it is spherical. In football shit can happen and it always does. There may be other leagues besides the EPL, but that doesn’t mean you have to throw money at any team Barcelona plays or worse, two obscure teams you have never even heard of. If you must bet, make sure the money you wager is affordable, meaning should you lose you would not be reduced to begging for handouts. Once money is thrown like this, consider it lost until further notice.

He should stop being generous to the whores he patronizes. You play the whores, not the other way round. There are reasons why any whore would want you to be her boyfriend and your pock-marked face is never one of them. If you must womanize, please do not complain ad nauseam about the lack of girlfriend experience, and the whore’s refusal to let you French kiss her. If you want a girlfriend, go get one. Stop making some limp excuses about how that girl in your church prefers some Indian guy and then make racist remarks in front of me but never to his face. He should stop bastardizing the Cantonese I taught him. What is the point of learning Cantonese to go after the said girl (who is Cantonese) and then NOT use it because he is so fucking afraid and then use all the profanities contained in the language when he speaks to me? I don’t understand why he cannot get a girlfriend. If I were a xtian, I might even be married by now. There is something simple about xtian girls that an enterprising guy can exploit. Most or all xtian girls will never take a non-xtian guy for a boyfriend – all that crap in the stupid book demanding believers not ‘yoke’ themselves to non-believers. A xtian guy has all the advantages in the world when it comes to courtship. Competition (non-xtian guys) is effectively eliminated, and at the same time you can go after both xtian and non-xtian girls! What is so damn hard? Why be so frightened of rejection if you have the power of your deity behind you? For all your postulations about trusting in god and being part of its divine plans, you are nothing when you can’t even defeat your sense of inferiority, cowardice and fear of rejection. Your god avails you not, You avail yourself not. Pathetic whoreson.

And stop taking bank loans to pay off the credit card debts. In the end you still have to pay the banks back, and at huge interest. Banks, bankers, financial planners, financial schemes and in general the entire banking and financial industry cannot be trusted. They are so rich because they are licensed to cheat you of your hard-earned money and all that credit cards that you sign and the stuff you pay for it – you have to pay them back with interest one day. They don’t care about you. You die it’s your problem, just don’t make it theirs.

Quit the church. The pastor is overfed and overpaid and if there is any justice at all charlatans like that swine should be prosecuted. These legalized ‘magic-stone men’ cannot be trusted. A sincere one is loyal only to his non-existent god (one will find many of these in the mental asylums). A bad one is basically a con-man. Either way they don’t care about you. They just want your soul and money and you are nothing to them once you run out of money or your life, whichever occurs first. Besides, how can anyone honest still call himself a god-fearing xtian when he pays for sex? Granted, Police Car may not be the most honest or intellectually capable person, but surely he would acknowledge the lie he lives? Either this is beyond his understanding, he does not want to ponder too deeply, or both. Some people just can’t handle the truth. Anyway, instead of pretending to be what he’s not, why not step out of the circle of light and embrace the darkness? He is slipping, slowly and inexorably, and he must learn to live with it. From false light to true embracing darkness. He may yet find liberation.