I had the slimiest encounter with Evil Corporate America yesterday. They love to lure you in with professions of serving you with the utmost respect but the system is designed in a way to screw with both the customer and the employees. Pissed off at the company and so tempted to yell bad bad names at their people but its employees are just foot soldiers trying to stay alive on the blood soaked battlefield. Long story short, I left the horrendously sickening Victoria Secret store on 3rd street Santa Monica Promenade in a quiet boiling rage. Tourists around me were smiling, laughing and shopping - happily sharpening the teeth of 'nice harmless grandma' who is actually the big bad wolf as he gleefully prepare to snarl "All the better to eat you with" when the time is ripe.
I got into my car and like a typical Los Angeleno, raged with the machine and its sound system.
Now if you have driven around Santa Monica before, you know that they have random pedestrian crossings along their major roads. (btw, whoever planned it that way needs his/her road planning license revoked. It's LA. Cars trumps people and so with such a predisposition, sometimes cars TRAMPLE over people)
I scowled at every red light and abused the gas pedal every chance i got. My head throbbed and my hands gripped into the rubbery portions of the steering wheel. I stared straight ahead, staring at only the car in front of me and nothing else. Didn't even know what street I was on, I just knew I was heading east. I was majorly triggered and seething...mad. In the mist of the haziness, the winged one with the ridiculous halo struggled to get my attention as it forced my lungs to take slow deep breaths and attempted to transfer the anger-induced-strength from my right leg to my jaw as I bit down on my left fist, hard. All my focus was on the car in front of me but as some of the haze dissipated, my eyes relaxed and noticed that the cars on the other lanes had started braking. Suddenly I felt like I going too fast. Something was not right. Instinctively my eyes swept all over as I slowed down. A yellow pedestrian sign was up and not too far ahead were white strips on the road. A lady and two little girls were teetering at the side of the road, trying to get to the other side with their lives and limbs intact. I rolled to a stop while taking another deep breath and trying to keep the one with the pitch fork from constructing a frustrated sneer on my face as I nodded to the lady to let her know they're safe to pass.
She lifted her hand in acknowledgment, nodded and...smiled. As the Mary Poppins-esque lady walked forward, her girls -blissfully unaware of the veins that moments ago were popping out of my neck - looked at me, smiled and started skipping alongside their guardian.
The winged one with the ridiculous halo gave me a pointed look while the one with the pitch fork suddenly went missing.
"Ahh what the hell," I thought to myself, "I'm going to get some Jamba Juice."
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Friday, April 23, 2010
The Killing M.O
When I was under 6 (cant remember the exact age) I was watching a Batman cartoon. It was the first time they introduced The Joker and this Joker ain't wacky Jack Nicholson or even murderous Heath Ledger. He was worse. He was evilly scary, his manic laughter along with that psychotic smile scarred the living shit out of my child's mind. I was terrified for days, haunted in fact. I couldn't go to my parents because I knew that my parents would not be able to allay my fears as they would be more concerned about preventing me from watching 'scary stuff on tv again' aka 'no more watching tv.' I guess it's easier to not expose a child to the 'evils of the world' rather than educating and reassuring a child that scary things that go bump in the night are not necessarily to be feared.
How did I cope? When they say that the mind is capable of powerful things, they are not kidding.
When an unwanted memory or an unpleasant thought springs up in my mind, I've trained my mind so well that I am actually able to force it out or just bury it quick before it can linger. No thinking, no hurting's the Modus Operandi. It wasn't easy at first, The Joker stayed in there for quite a while. But as the years passed and more things happened, I got better with time and practice.
Yet somewhere deep down in my gut something tells me that it's mentally unhealthy.
Oh dear.
How did I cope? When they say that the mind is capable of powerful things, they are not kidding.
When an unwanted memory or an unpleasant thought springs up in my mind, I've trained my mind so well that I am actually able to force it out or just bury it quick before it can linger. No thinking, no hurting's the Modus Operandi. It wasn't easy at first, The Joker stayed in there for quite a while. But as the years passed and more things happened, I got better with time and practice.
Yet somewhere deep down in my gut something tells me that it's mentally unhealthy.
Oh dear.
Friday, April 16, 2010
A Dog called Mr B
When I was growing up, I've never had a cat or a dog because my father did not want them in the house. So pets I had were fishes and tortoises. The fishes always die quick and mysteriously, I've had so many I've lost count. Yet I always remember the ones that lasted. How, you ask? Well, see, when the fishes died I would flush them down the toilet, quick and easy, it was just like they were never there. Out of all the fishes that died, only two I buried with handmade cardboard headstones and one of them lasted long enough for me to have named.
Can you imagine being a child and having a pet, something you care enough to feed everyday and change its water every so often but not allowing yourself to get too attached to it by naming it lest it died on you, again? What do you think a child learns from such experiences?
That fish was the only pet I've ever named. After that, I had a tortoise. I had it for a long while. But one day it had to go as it got too big. My dad drove me and my sister to the pond. As I took that tortoise out and placed it on the grass next to the pond, a sudden unfamiliar emotion took over me. I did not recognize or understand this emotion but it was strong, too strong. It took all of my being to 'be normal' and it took my father a while to realize that I was not ok.
Throughout this time, I had violin lessons every Sunday at my teacher's place and one day his family rescued a kitten. It was black and white, furry little thing was the size of my palm. I started going to lessons early just to play with it. Violin lessons became less dreary. But one day it disappeared, without a reason. My new found yearnings for Sundays disappeared as well.
I didnt have a pet ever since. Whenever people starts aww-ing at animals I stand apart, as emotionally dead as a doornail. After a while I realized that I couldn't do that, lest someone decides to ask me why I'm as such so I got pretty good at faking "Oh so cuteeeee!!!" I even mastered the eyebrows and hand to the heart action.
Now, a friend of mine has a bulldog (let's call him 'Mr B') and when my friend had to go out of town he would need someone to take care of Mr B. Simple stuff - change his pee pad, fill up his water and food bowl and take him out for walks. Mr B is usually taken care of by my other friends but once in a while I got asked when everyone else was unavailable. My early encounters with Mr B were few and far in between and they were strictly business - I'm doing a favor for a friend, that was it. No talking, no petting and no playing. However, recently my exposure to Mr B increased. Our relationship... grew. In the beginning I would just stare at him without saying a word for a long time. He would sit and fidget, panting/breathing/slobbering like how bulldogs do but once in a while he would just stop and look back at me. Our eyes would lock, almost like we were playing a game of who would look away first. Soon, I started calling his name more often which led to me starting to talk to him. "Let's go for a walk now, Mr B." or "Are you thirsty? Ok, fine I'll fill your water bowl up." or "Mr B, do you know you shit alot?"
One thing led to another and soon whenever I go over to my friend's place to take care of Mr B I started to stay there longer. I would play with him and spend significant time doing nothing else but rubbing his head and neck. When I'm sitting at the edge of the bed with my Mac he would come by and rest his head by my feet. Sometimes I would absent minded-ly just rub/pet his head without even looking over. I don't know if he likes what I'm doing but he didn't bite me so I guess it's alright with him.
Last night it was dinner at my friend's place. A bunch of us went over and some were helping out in the kitchen. I asked to use the computer by the table in the living room to check out the recipe of the dessert my friend was making. His boyfriend (let's call him S) was on the couch typing away at his computer. S spends the weekends there so he has alot more exposure to Mr B than I do. Mr B wandered about, tottering in and out of the kitchen and living room, probably perplexed and excited at this sudden influx of people. As I started reading the recipe, Mr B came by sniffling at me. I looked down and a small smile grew. He sniffled some more, circled by me a few times and suddenly, he laid down next to my feet resting his head on the floor. It didn't occur to me what this meant until S stopped typing and looked up at us across the room.
"Hey, he loves you!"
I froze. "What?" I looked over to S across a spacious and empty living room and then down at Mr B. Mr B just blinked. I paused for a long while, without a reply. I think my silence puzzled S. He didn't know that it took ME a while to realize what I felt.
It took me a while to realize that I felt my heart...swell.
Can you imagine being a child and having a pet, something you care enough to feed everyday and change its water every so often but not allowing yourself to get too attached to it by naming it lest it died on you, again? What do you think a child learns from such experiences?
That fish was the only pet I've ever named. After that, I had a tortoise. I had it for a long while. But one day it had to go as it got too big. My dad drove me and my sister to the pond. As I took that tortoise out and placed it on the grass next to the pond, a sudden unfamiliar emotion took over me. I did not recognize or understand this emotion but it was strong, too strong. It took all of my being to 'be normal' and it took my father a while to realize that I was not ok.
Throughout this time, I had violin lessons every Sunday at my teacher's place and one day his family rescued a kitten. It was black and white, furry little thing was the size of my palm. I started going to lessons early just to play with it. Violin lessons became less dreary. But one day it disappeared, without a reason. My new found yearnings for Sundays disappeared as well.
I didnt have a pet ever since. Whenever people starts aww-ing at animals I stand apart, as emotionally dead as a doornail. After a while I realized that I couldn't do that, lest someone decides to ask me why I'm as such so I got pretty good at faking "Oh so cuteeeee!!!" I even mastered the eyebrows and hand to the heart action.
Now, a friend of mine has a bulldog (let's call him 'Mr B') and when my friend had to go out of town he would need someone to take care of Mr B. Simple stuff - change his pee pad, fill up his water and food bowl and take him out for walks. Mr B is usually taken care of by my other friends but once in a while I got asked when everyone else was unavailable. My early encounters with Mr B were few and far in between and they were strictly business - I'm doing a favor for a friend, that was it. No talking, no petting and no playing. However, recently my exposure to Mr B increased. Our relationship... grew. In the beginning I would just stare at him without saying a word for a long time. He would sit and fidget, panting/breathing/slobbering like how bulldogs do but once in a while he would just stop and look back at me. Our eyes would lock, almost like we were playing a game of who would look away first. Soon, I started calling his name more often which led to me starting to talk to him. "Let's go for a walk now, Mr B." or "Are you thirsty? Ok, fine I'll fill your water bowl up." or "Mr B, do you know you shit alot?"
One thing led to another and soon whenever I go over to my friend's place to take care of Mr B I started to stay there longer. I would play with him and spend significant time doing nothing else but rubbing his head and neck. When I'm sitting at the edge of the bed with my Mac he would come by and rest his head by my feet. Sometimes I would absent minded-ly just rub/pet his head without even looking over. I don't know if he likes what I'm doing but he didn't bite me so I guess it's alright with him.
Last night it was dinner at my friend's place. A bunch of us went over and some were helping out in the kitchen. I asked to use the computer by the table in the living room to check out the recipe of the dessert my friend was making. His boyfriend (let's call him S) was on the couch typing away at his computer. S spends the weekends there so he has alot more exposure to Mr B than I do. Mr B wandered about, tottering in and out of the kitchen and living room, probably perplexed and excited at this sudden influx of people. As I started reading the recipe, Mr B came by sniffling at me. I looked down and a small smile grew. He sniffled some more, circled by me a few times and suddenly, he laid down next to my feet resting his head on the floor. It didn't occur to me what this meant until S stopped typing and looked up at us across the room.
"Hey, he loves you!"
I froze. "What?" I looked over to S across a spacious and empty living room and then down at Mr B. Mr B just blinked. I paused for a long while, without a reply. I think my silence puzzled S. He didn't know that it took ME a while to realize what I felt.
It took me a while to realize that I felt my heart...swell.
Friday, April 9, 2010
An eye for an eye, is the Death Penalty blind?
An eye for an eye, is that right?
There are many excellent arguments for it to exist yet there are just as many arguments for it not to. Many of the arguments either way have different sociological reasoning pertaining to specific countries. Strip all of that away for the death penalty is black and white. One is either in for it, or against it. Just like how one is either pregnant or not pregnant, dead or not dead. There is no in-between. If you say you are against it but would be for it when it comes to convicted serial baby killers, that means you are FOR it. That also means that if you say that you are NOT for it, you have to mean it when it's regarding a smiling psychopath who left no one with similarities to your DNA alive and every other person you care for broken.
The place where I come from 'is believed to have the world’s highest per capital execution rate, relative to its population' as stated in a 2004 Amnesty International report.
People get executed. I grew up with that notion. They tie a noose around your neck and look at a chart to figure out how to snap your neck instead of slowly strangling you to death. It was a fact of life. It was expected, it was the norm and it was the law. Yes, ever since I could form a rational thought I felt it was harsh and I did think that maybe case by case judging would make it less horrible. Yet I've never committed to that line of thought. Because it's a slippery slope. One is either in for it, or against it. There is no in-between.
I stand by Amnesty International - oppose the death penalty worldwide in all cases without exception.
There are many excellent arguments for it to exist yet there are just as many arguments for it not to. Many of the arguments either way have different sociological reasoning pertaining to specific countries. Strip all of that away for the death penalty is black and white. One is either in for it, or against it. Just like how one is either pregnant or not pregnant, dead or not dead. There is no in-between. If you say you are against it but would be for it when it comes to convicted serial baby killers, that means you are FOR it. That also means that if you say that you are NOT for it, you have to mean it when it's regarding a smiling psychopath who left no one with similarities to your DNA alive and every other person you care for broken.
The place where I come from 'is believed to have the world’s highest per capital execution rate, relative to its population' as stated in a 2004 Amnesty International report.
People get executed. I grew up with that notion. They tie a noose around your neck and look at a chart to figure out how to snap your neck instead of slowly strangling you to death. It was a fact of life. It was expected, it was the norm and it was the law. Yes, ever since I could form a rational thought I felt it was harsh and I did think that maybe case by case judging would make it less horrible. Yet I've never committed to that line of thought. Because it's a slippery slope. One is either in for it, or against it. There is no in-between.
I stand by Amnesty International - oppose the death penalty worldwide in all cases without exception.
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