exhibit a

This is an experiment in human Pavlovian reflexes.

GO WINGS GO.

In three words, I've just proven to you that your most trivial likes and dislikes are firmly rooted in your identity, which itself is the most indispensable and fundamental facet of your being. If the Detroit Red Wings happen to be your favourite hockey team, you'll ecstatically join me in praise of their obvious dominance of the NHL over the past two decades. If they aren't (which is, indeed, the more likely scenario, considering the alienating culture of the city we live in) then your competitive spirit will blaze with decidedly less-educated but equally fierce and passionate feelings against the Red Wings and in favour of your own favourite team. If you don't even know what the Detroit Red Wings are, then chances are that you're downplaying the effectiveness of this entire argument (and the importance of hockey in general) by thinking of another, "better" sport -- or maybe something entirely different but also in some way superior -- with, again, a strongly defensive and loyalistic attitude. Whatever the case, you're probably willing to do anything from shouting obscenities to engaging in a bloody brawl on behalf of your particular perspective.

The truth is that we love to identify with things. We love to be opinionated. About anything. When playoff season comes around, you'd better know what you're talking about. With elections fast approaching you'll need to know who you're voting for, too. And I mean, don't you love it when your blog gets tagged and you have to write a post entirely devoted to your interests? What music do you listen to? What books do you like to read, and what are your favourite movies? Do you know what you want to be when you grow up? What do you believe? What do you like? What do you dislike?

Negative opinions are strongest, and always lovely to have around. Someone once asked, "Who do you despise? By this you are truly known." Just scream out against what opposes and offends you. Define yourself as the inverse, the antithesis, of everything you don't like. (a.k.a. live in the shadow of something greater than yourself.)

You think I'm wrong? Think again. Be honest with yourself; how do you usually go about establishing an interest in something? ANTI-MAINSTREAM. You all cheer for the hometown team? Screw that, I'm throwing in my lot with some obscure band of European draft picks. You all listen to Switchfoot and David Crowder? I'll listen to Radiohead, Stars, John Mayer and Death Cab for Cutie. You all read the Da Vinci Code? I'll read Foucault's Pendulum. You all want to be engineers? I'll be a rock star. You all want to be atheists? I'll believe in God.

Of course it's not always about going against the flow. Sometimes it's about getting the latest, coolest things that everyone else has got too. After all, owning an iPod is an instant stamp of acceptability on your social passport. So is wearing all the right clothes from all the right brands. Aritzia or Lululemon for the girls, American Eagle or Tommy Hilfiger for the guys, and Banana Republic, Lacoste, Burberry or Guess for the ones who think they've got the money but really don't. Oh, guess what? If you're reading this and your last name isn't Hong, you haven't got the money. Stop pretending.

Things get worse when you're clinging to your identity as if it's all you've got. It's in your screenname, it's on your blog, it's stamped on your rear end or emblazoned across your chest, on either side of the gaping chasm of your cleavage. You're thinking I'm trying to be funny right now -- boy, are you ever wrong. And I mean, it's true; this is how we present ourselves. Having a character, with likes and dislikes and whatever else, is a given for every human being on the planet, but sometimes it can be so time-consuming to have to get to know that character. Why go through all the hassle of actually having to put effort into relationships when you can just post yourself up on a billboard, right? It makes life so much easier! You don't need to say a word when the FCUK on your breasts does all the talking for you.

You're probably thinking I've unfairly targetted girls in this post. Don't worry, girls are still better off in my opinion, because they're actually aware of what they're doing. They know that they're just fueling an image for the sake of either a) getting their own personalities, which would take forever to actually get to know through proper interaction, across to other people instantly, or b) creating falsified personalities because their real ones aren't good enough. Thus shopping and what not become a sort of a guilty pleasure for them. Guys, on the other hand, are clueless. Thus they boast and rant and proudly strut every facet of what they identify with, in their exaggerated stances and excessive (in quality, not quantity) possessions and explosive opinions. They have no idea how deep a hole they're in, and they become overly proud and passionate about everything (even the things they aren't proud or passionate about, because they come to hate these things with such a pride and passion). They compete to the point of absurdity, over anything from percieved material wealth to success with girls to any scrap of skill in any discipline that they might have. And they just don't get it.

It's all trivial. The outcome of a hockey game has just as little to do with your actual life as Radiohead and Death Cab do. Sewing eagles and alligators onto your chest won't have a lasting positive impact on your soul. On your material life, where existence is all about money and drugs and sex and candy, maybe it will have a positive impact. But not on your soul. In the life that matters, all of this is useless.

Think about that the next time you look down on/look up at someone because of the music they listen to or the clothes they wear or the things they think or the girls they've gone out with. It's not all about the identity, people. It's not all about what's on the outside. Maybe it's time that we start getting to know each other the way we were really meant to.

in a little while, this hurt will hurt no more...

The corners of the pages flapped in the wind as he folded the paper back together and set it down beside him. Cold air crept under his jacket and he tugged on its sides, wrapping it tighter to his body. He glanced at his watch; five to one.

Some distance away was a bird, for the most part immobile, lying in the shallow snow. Trails of footprints crisscrossed around it, weaving between trees and out towards the streets, towards civilization. The blanket of white that covered the ground was otherwise undisturbed, but somehow that failed to be a comforting thought.

"'scuse me, are you... done with that?"

He pulled his head up as if drawn out of a trance. "Uh... sorry?" It was a tall man who had addressed him, with glasses and a messenger bag slung over his left shoulder. "Oh, the paper -- sure, be my guest."

The man smiled and scooped up the pile of newsprint with one hand, seating himself on the other end of the bench as he did so. The smile disappeared when his eyes fixated on the headline on the front page. For a moment the air seemed to hang in absolute stillness.

"You ever wonder why these things happen?"

"Huh?" The man struggled to peel his attention away from the paper. "You mean -- ?"

"Yeah." He looked down at the dry ground beneath his feet. "Doesn't it bother you sometimes?"

"Well... I mean, this is a big city, right? Anything can happen."

"But why?" His focus shifted to the sea of snow that expanded before him. "Just 'cause there's a lot of people, doesn't mean things have to be worse."

In his periphery he saw the tall man lean forward. "It's demographics and the culture of a place this populated. In a little town, everyone knows everyone, everyone's involved. Everyone's looking out for each other."

"And in a city?"

"In a city you have governments, you have capitalism, you have a totally different kind of people. You have people who only care about themselves." The man paused for a moment, as if some other thought had pervaded his mind. "And when no one cares about anyone but themselves, you're bound to end up with people on the bottom."

"People on the bottom." He shook his head. "So they're the ones responsible?"

"We're all responsible, aren't we? They're in the situation they're in 'cause we're never willing to do anything to help them."

"Maybe --" he began, then opened his mouth to say more but stopped short of forming words. After a moment he retreated into his former posture, his face reforming into a blank stare.

"To answer your other question, though -- yeah, it bothers me."

He nodded. "Makes you feel unsafe, doesn't it?"

The tall man shook his head. "I don't think much about that -- guess it doesn't really strike me as likely that anything's gonna happen to me."

"Then what is it?"

Again, the man paused. "Well -- don't you think it doesn't make any sense, how innocent people suffer like this all the time?"

His eyes wandered back to the bird in the snow. "Yeah, I do."

"I think that's what gets me the most -- when really good people who deserve to live have life taken away from them." The man set the newspaper down between them. "And yeah, I know, people always ask, 'Does anyone really deserve to live anyways?' But even still -- there's such a sense of injustice, you know? Like bad things are happening for no reason. Just doesn't feel right."

"But we don't complain when good things happen."

"Yeah, I guess not," the man said with a laugh.

"I don't know." He leaned back, raking his hand through his hair. "I find it hard to believe that anything can really happen for no reason."

"Why's that?"

"Well, how can some things have a purpose while others don't? Especially if there's nothing to distinguish the two. I mean, how can we say -- I don't know -- that the founding of the UN, say, was for a good cause, and something like this happened for no reason?"

The tall man frowned. "So you're saying that some kind of good comes out of this in the end?"

"Well, no, not necessarily. Just saying there's got to be a reason for it, and it's usually one we can't see -- and so we just assume it doesn't exist."

"What if the reason isn't good?"

"If everything's meant to be a certain way, and something 'bad' happening is a part of that whole picture, then it's 'good' enough for me." He hesitated, but the tall man was silent and so he continued on. "I mean, I figure that if we as people have this much trouble deciding on anything that we can all call good or bad, we don't really have a chance of figuring out what's good or bad in the bigger scheme of things."

"So you're saying there's some kind of higher good or something. That everything's gonna turn out good, even the evil things, even things like this."

"I think there's already good in it, there already was from the instant it happened." He opened his mouth, then hesitated, as if to collect the appropriate words. "I mean, the way I see it, evil's only a lack of good anyways. And if evil's only a lack of good, and it doesn't have any reality of its own... then every evil thing has to have at least some good in it, 'cause it wouldn't be able to exist on its own."

The tall man nodded in silence, but with an absent look on his face, as if still digesting all that had been said. For some time the only sound in the air was that of the wind and the distant traffic. Then he stood, shouldering his bag, and offered polite words of parting that themselves were lost in a sea of thoughts as he walked away.

Silence, again. He checked his watch once more; five past one. Standing and straightening his jacket, he leaned down to retrieve the newspaper before stopping his hand short of picking it up. Without a second of hesitation he turned and walked away, in the direction of the small pocket in the snow where the dying bird still lay.

A calm breath of wind brushed by, raising the edges of the pages as it passed. As they settled back down, the bold headline once again read "Seven shot on Yonge St: 19-year old woman is dead after Boxing Day horror".

the Lord of love

Today I celebrated the birth of my Lord. Or did I? It can be hard to gauge how much emotional emphasis you put on an event like this. Too little and you think you're somehow faithless and apathetic, too much and you wonder if you're not doing it just to convince yourself you're not the former. But at any rate, and with all doubts aside -- whether or not you believe that the 25th of December really was the right day doesn't change the fact that he was born (and therefore has a birthday that at some point has to be celebrated) -- today is the anniversary of Jesus Christ's birth. And it helped me to reflect on something.

My day started off on the wrong foot, if you could even call it a foot at all. I missed church in a parental dispute -- and trust me, it's not fun to fight with your parents on Christmas -- and I was quite solidly pissed off. I was furious at parts of my family, myself included, as well as some of my friends, who had absolutely nothing to do with the incident, but who I assumed would have a negative reaction to my absence from church. And you thought you were prejudicial! I make things up about what people do and then hold grudges against them for it.

But things got flipped around in a Raine-Maidan twist around noon, and then a phone call made me realize I'm wrong. The short talk and a subsequent visit from my dearest and closest friend opened my hatefully blind eyes to the reality of things. I'd been anticipating her call all morning, fully expecting her to unleash a string of variations on the thematic "I'm disappointed in you", and fully prepared to rebut her with everything from harsh words to ignorance. I was already so worked up and so angry over what I'd figured that she had said, both to herself and to other people, about my absence. I was honestly quite ready to bite her head off when she called.

Only instead of the expected "I'm disappointed in you", I got a "Merry Christmas, would you like me to pick you up so we can go out and spend time together? I don't mind that it's ten kilometers out of my way." In the latter stages of male adolescence, the vast majority of things fail to trigger the secretion of fluids from the tear ducts. This was not one of them.

I'm actually amazed. You've heard all that sappy "all I want for Christmas is you" (expletive) in every movie and pop song you could possibly hope to watch or listen to, but I can honestly say that she was the perfect gift for me. Her love was exactly what I needed. Just as it was two thousand years ago, when people of a different era were given another gift, another phone call and visit, to melt their icy hearts. Love was what they needed. And love was enough.

Sounds corny, no doubt. I've always leaned towards being the rational Nazi type, the type that dismisses that kind of thinking without a second thought. But at my core is, and always has been, a kind of sensitivity to love -- and I believe this is something that buries itself at the core of every human being -- a magnetic draw that I feel whenever it's around. True, I think of myself as a rationalist. True, I need to talk about objectivity and surety more than surreality and empty words. And yet at the same time, my entire faith has been founded on the experience of something I couldn't (and still can't) explain, something mystical and spiritual, so utterly illogical and at the same time so undeniably true -- an outpouring of love in a room full of strangers on a Friday night two years ago.

And now here I am again, awestruck by love. I know there's really no explanation for it, but I don't really need one of it anymore. Or of anything, for that matter. I mean, if the most repetitive concept in the history of pop culture across the entire human race can't itself be explained, then why should I even think to try thinking about anything else? No, it wouldn't hurt; and yes, it would be reassuring. But that's the end of it. My faith -- and by extension, my life -- is not grounded in my understanding or my reasoning or my perception of anything. It's grounded in his love, in the one thing I'll never be able to dispute. All I need is love, and everything else is secondary to the fact. A very distant second.

Here is love, vast as the ocean. God has descended from glory to depravity, from King to servant, from revered to unloved. Here is love: for unto us a child is born, unto us a Son is given. The Lord of love has come at last.

Hallelujah, God is near,
Hallelujah, God is here...

a mental float

So here's something that came up recently in a conversation with King (for those of you who used to read my old blog, it was also an idea I addressed in one of my first entries):

Suppose that someone -- say, Emily Fan -- is washing dishes. Emily wants to finish washing dishes and start doing things that are more fun, so she enlists the help of another, perhaps a certain Valerie Tso. Her logic is that, by having a second person to help wash dishes, she will decrease the time that she spends trying to accomplish the task by half. Valerie, in turn, also would rather do something else, like play Gran Turismo 3 with her really good-looking friend Ren, so she asks King to help her wash half of the dishes allotted to her. So now Emily is doing 1/2 of the dishes, and the other 1/2 that Valerie was washing have now been split between Valerie (1/4) and King (1/4). Now, theoretically, King could ask for help to divide his share of dishes into eighths, and so on and so forth, ad infinitum; and, theoretically, if everyone present would rather be doing something other than washing dishes (which isn't so hard to imagine) then there would be no end to the process of enlisting aid, and the dishes would never get washed.

That not work for you? "What if you run out of dishes or people to wash them?" Yeah, yeah, shut up. Here's another example: suppose you're walking from where you're sitting to the door. Let's say that the door is five meters away from you. In order to get there, you'd first need to walk at least halfway (two and a half meters). In order to get to the 2.5 meter mark, you'd need to walk half of that distance (1.25). In order to get that far, you'd again have to walk half of its distance (0.625). The distances you'd need to walk to get to the door could thus be divided into halves as far as numbers will allow -- and we all know that numbers allow for anything. Thus there are an infinite number of distances between you and the door, and if there are an infinite number of distances then there's no way that you can ever even reach the door. What's worse is that if you need to walk a portion of a distance before you traverse its entirety (i.e. if you're walking 5 meters in a straight line, you'll need to cover a 2.5 meter distance first) and if each portion is itself infinitely divisible into smaller portions, then you can't even start to walk towards the door, because you'll have to walk a half of a half of a half of a half of a half of a half of a half of a half of... and the process is infinite.

... uh... so how do we walk and wash dishes then?

Yeah, I don't know. That's why it's called a paradox.

For those of you who are familiar with calculus, there's a "solution" to this (think about limits of infinite functions). The solution essentially proves that, geometrically speaking, there can be an infinite number of points in a finite distance, and it can thus still be possible to reach the "end" without being forever caught in between. The drawback of this solution is that it doesn't address the root of the paradox and the question of how it's possible to reach the end of an infinite sequence of actions. It only tells us that, yes, it's possible -- at least from a mathematical standpoint. I mean, logically speaking, sequentially completing an infinite number of actions is impossible, and in a way the calculus-based solution only fuels the paradoxy.

When I posted about this last year, I addressed what was then (and now) a bit more of a pressing concern for me: time. Time itself is continuous, meaning that it flows with no breaks in between, and it's also linear, or one-directional and one-dimensional. The scale of time can be represented by a line, on which segments constitute relative durations of time, anywhere from a millisecond to a millennia. Time can also be broken up into instants, or moments, which would correspond to single points on the scale. Now, if there are an infinite number of single points in any given segment -- that is to say, if any duration of time can be infinitely divided into single moments -- how can we get to the end of any segment? How can we consciously exist for even a nanosecond if there's an infinite number of instants in its duration? And, of course, even if we were to try to sequentially get through time, moment by moment and in some vain hope of somehow reaching infinity, how can we move from one moment to the next? The distance between the two is defined as a duration of time, and such a duration would again be infinitely divisible. That sort of approach only compounds the problem; as an extra kick in the ass, there are now an infinite number of durations to be gone through as well. Time cannot move; time cannot start; time cannot exist.

Hmm, doesn't that suck. There seems to be no real solution to this problem. And someone said that it's a logical impossibility to be in a state of self-contradiction.

I'd be glad to hear your opinions on one of philosophy's oldest questions. And gosh, just taking a look at that post from my blog a year back... I would've never recognized that as my own writing.

the franciscan businessman

I used to hate you. I used to wish I didn't know you. I used to hate how you would always seem to have it better in some way. Not better than me, no; I'd never admit to that. But just better on the whole. As if your life were more complete, as if you were somehow happier -- even if I knew there was no depth to it, or to you. You were just faking it. The thing that got me was that it fooled everyone else.

You and all of your damnable new toys. "Materialism is a sin," he would tell us, and you raised your voice in wholehearted agreement. Meanwhile your hypocrisy seeped through your porous exterior like blood and pus out of an infected wound. Everything always had to be the best, as if it somehow made you better. I mean, when you started talking about how "some people need to have lots to be in a position in society to reach out to others", I knew you'd blown most of the sanity you might've had left. Did you actually believe what you were saying? Wait, I guess not. You knew there was a limit to how far you could go, too, but you always pretended that it wasn't there. You were born a liar.

It was you. It defined you. Everywhere you turned, for every aspect of your character, you required a brand to affix yourself to. You needed something to shape yourself around because you weren't good enough to ever shape yourself. And you needed that edge -- that professional, commercially packaged, corporately sharpened edge -- because you were so thoroughly convinced that you were better than everyone else and you wanted them all to see it too. Little did you realize that in your utter dependence on the retail goods of others, you were showing how truly little you were.

Maybe it wasn't even a mainstream trend. God knows that the hip has taken a trip underground lately anyways. It's fun to go against the grain, isn't it? To sound more informed, but only because your opinion differs. But that's alright, because we all need opinion. Opinion gives us identity, and identity gives us meaning. Your meaning: "Do what other people aren't doing." Some way to be an independent thinker. You're defined by what others aren't. You are a shadow cast by a greater being.

More often than not, though, it was the mainstream. You didn't have the courage to invest in something that no one else cared about. Or maybe it wasn't a lack of courage -- maybe the whole point was to be in agreement with others. You just wanted to do it to the point that you would be identified with the idea more than they would. Academic achievement and athletic competitions weren't enough for you, apparently; your insatiable superiority complex took the battle onto a metaphysical plane. Now here's a trick question: do we call that an all-time high or an all-time low?

What was this all for? Respect. Love (of some sort, anyways). Admiration, actually, not love. And of course the self-directed equivalents of these, which can be collectively grouped under the umbrella of narcissism. What else? Purpose? I guess the church didn't cut it for you, no matter how much you pretended it would. Nothing could cut it. You always wanted something finite, something that had an end. You were an idiot. You couldn't think to see that once it'd expired, you'd need something new.

I hated you. I hated you for so long, and I let your lies and propaganda and self-elation eat away at my innards. Then one day I realized how much I'd been consumed by your consumerism, and when I started to wonder why I could only think of one reason: you and I were in the same hole, almost, save for one small detail -- I was a mile deeper for wanting to be better at the lie than you were.

peace on earth

"Girl, 6, hurt in Wal-Mart shooting"

Aren't you sick of it already?

"Three UK soldiers killed by roadside bomb"

Don't you wish something would change?

"Colombia murder rate soars to 32,000 a year"

Aren't you sick of hearing that there'll be peace on Earth?

"2 dead in latest Toronto shootings"

Or maybe you aren't. I mean, things have yet to really happen to any of us. And will they ever? Tragedy doesn't have the luxury of affording itself in abundance anyways. Let's take our chances.

"Cecilia's parents beg for her safe return"

They're reading names out on the radio -- all the folks the rest of us won't ever get to know. But... it's alright. We'll get through it. We'll keep going. We'll still be alive.

"Police confirm Cecilia Zhang's body found"

These things happen. You've got to get over it quickly, that's the key. Mull for too long over something that hasn't got to do with yourself, and who knows how much worse it'll be when it happens to you? Or how much worse you'll have to make it out to be? Wait; maybe that's the idea.

"Homeless in Toronto number in the tens of thousands"

At least they've got life. Their hearts are still beating. And you know what that means? That means that they can actually choose to do something with it if they try. We haven't got the time to care about them yet -- we need to prioritize. The ones who need it get it first.

"Toronto minister charged with sexual assault"

Well --

"Toronto congregation left reeling after funeral shooting"

Yeah, but --

"300 teen hookers working T.O. streets"

...

"... 799 million people go hungry every night and we don't even give a shit about it. And you know what the worst part of it is? The fact that you're less worried about 799 million hungry people than the fact that I just said shit."

An eye for an eye. I will drive you into the dirt for what you have done to me. I will succeed at any cost in this world; I will succeed and you will fail. Blood will be repaid with blood. This will not end until I am satisfied. Until I have had my fill. Show me your neck; I hunger.

They say that what you mock will surely overtake you. Look at you now -- you've yourself become a monster so that the monster won't break you. But it's already gone too far. Who said that if you go in hard, you won't get hurt?

Peace on Earth...

Jesus, can you take the time to throw a drowning man a line?

Peace on Earth...

To tell the ones who hear no sound, whose sons are living in the ground,

Peace on Earth...

Jesus, this song you wrote, the words are sticking in my throat...

Peace on Earth...

I hear it every Christmas time, but hope and history won't rhyme... so what's it worth?

Peace on Earth...

a place none of us has been

say the right things. says:

have you ever thought about what it would be like to be blind?

† ren - a place that has to be believed to be seen... † says:

haha that was random
and... well maybe a few times, yeah
i kinda just close my eyes and get the impression though

say the right things. says:

well.. blind from birth, then.. if you never had sight to begin with.

† ren - a place that has to be believed to be seen... † says:

heh i guess i haven't, why?

say the right things. says:

i don't really know.

say the right things. says:

i guess that's why i'm asking? sounds kinda weird.

say the right things. says:

how would you feel to live like that? would you ever realize that there's something everyone else sees that you don't?

† ren - a place that has to be believed to be seen... † says:

haha well i guess not... i’d only know what everyone told me

say the right things. says:

what if everyone lied?

† ren - a place that has to be believed to be seen... † says:

well... i’d never know

say the right things. says:

yah.

say the right things. says:

that's a depressing thought.

† ren - a place that has to be believed to be seen... † says:

it's not all that weird, is it?

† ren - a place that has to be believed to be seen... † says:

if you think about it, we go through the same sorta thing
where we're told that things are this way and that
and we sorta just take it all in as the truth

say the right things. says:

but we have our own eyes to see and figure things out for ourselves don't we?

† ren - a place that has to be believed to be seen... † says:

not really, not the majority of the time anyways
you think the earth is spherical, but have you ever seen it?

† ren - a place that has to be believed to be seen... † says:

something as basic as that, and it's still something you don't actually know for sure
you probably never will, either
it's just something someone told you

say the right things. says:

well i don't have to see the whole earth to know its round do i? like i can see things disappear over the horizon.

† ren - a place that has to be believed to be seen... † says:

lol i could make things disappear over the horizon by pulling them underground

† ren - a place that has to be believed to be seen... † says:

for all you know, the earth really is flat and the horizon is the edge that people fall off of
and all this stuff about other countries and continents and the laws of physics even existing is all a load of crap and propaganda

† ren - a place that has to be believed to be seen... † says:

and you're right
even if you could see the whole earth, it wouldn't exactly be proof that it's round

say the right things. says:

well then how else can you be sure of anything?

† ren - a place that has to be believed to be seen... † says:

haha welcome to the world of french mathematicians!

say the right things. says:

huh.

† ren - a place that has to be believed to be seen... † says:

haha... nevermind
you can pretty much get away with not being sure of anything (sort of)

say the right things. says:

then.. i might not even exist.

† ren - a place that has to be believed to be seen... † says:

yeah, well there's a limit to how much you can go around doubting things
after a while you start wasting your time

say the right things. says:

so then where can you draw a line?

† ren - a place that has to be believed to be seen... † says:

that’s really up to you
the way i see things... well there has to be a reason to things for me
something can’t just exist for absolutely no purpose at all... i’ve yet to see/hear of/think of anything that doesn’t have a purpose

† ren - a place that has to be believed to be seen... † says:

and so then there has to be a purpose for my limitations
just like there’s a purpose for my abilities
and so if there’s a purpose to my limitations and abilities and in a sense i’m meant to have them... then i won’t complain

† ren - a place that has to be believed to be seen... † says:

and for the most part i’ll try to abide by them

say the right things. says:

uh meaning what exactly?

† ren - a place that has to be believed to be seen... † says:

heh... meaning that i leave a certain amount (or maybe a great deal) up to faith

say the right things. says:

whoa you aren’t getting all religious on me are you?

† ren - a place that has to be believed to be seen... † says:

heh that depends
but by faith i meant like... believing what you can’t know or see

say the right things. says:

and that’s enough for you?

† ren - a place that has to be believed to be seen... † says:

yeah

say the right things. says:

..

† ren - a place that has to be believed to be seen... † says:

?

say the right things. says:

it’s still a depressing thought.

† ren - a place that has to be believed to be seen... † says:

haha... only if you really think you’re being lied to

senatus populusque romanus

So I was doing an uncharacteristic sift through the A-section of the Toronto Star this morning, and I got a fresh reminder of why I'd never consider a career in North American politics (or even voting, for that matter). This is what I found on page A6, one of two full pages devoted to the federal Christmas election campaign.

"PM's aide apologizes for remark on parents
Suggests child care money would go to beer and popcorn"

(Condition red; what the hell was that?! Mr. Sulu, bring us about.)

"Paul Martin's high-profile daycare pitch was knocked off track yesterday when his chief spokesperson said the $25 a week that parents would receive under a competing Conservative plan would be blown on beer and popcorn... Later, (the spokesperson) apologized, saying 'it was a dumb way to make my point and I apologize because obviously, no responsible parent would make that choice.'"

(And now here's the onion.)

"'These insulting remarks unmask what the Liberals really think about parents, that they can't be trusted to do what's right for their own children,' said Edmonton Conservative incumbent Rona Ambrose.

'This arrogance explains why the Liberals are opposed to giving all parents direct support to help them make the child care choices that are best for their family,' she added in a statement."

A stinging rebuttal to an admittedly (literally, the man himself admitted to it) baseless comment; how will the Liberals respond? Thus the political maneuvering continues, as one side broadsides the slightest fault in the other -- what? Is it so absurd? Public image, Mr. Proctor, is a fortress, and no crack in a fortress may be accounted small. Omaigawdz, I'm, like, back in high school again.

So this new discovery in the front-page section of Toronto's biggest newspaper made me think a little. I mean, we as a country hold our heads high for not outwardly succumbing to the federal popularity contest that the Americans go through every four years, but honestly, when I start to see stories like this filling half a page in a newspaper, I wonder if we're any better than they are. At least they're up front about it. We're still busy trying to conceal the fact that this whole facade of "For (God <-- this has been omitted now, thanks secularism) and country" is nothing more than a bulls--- smokescreen coverup of a personal quest for glory and power.

And yes, I did say personal. It definitely isn't for God, and I can't see how it could possibly be for country either. Take, as an example, how much money is wasted by politicians in government offices. No, I don't think my choice of the word "wasted" is an insult or an overstatement. I know people who've worked for the government -- just about the only challenging task demanded of them was to adhere to the dress code, and on a lucky day they might've managed to log two hours of actual, productive (meaning beneficial to the country, or to the province, or to the city, but NOT to an individual) work. All the while, they're earning a large sum of money, being paid for hours that they don't work, going out for extended "lunch" breaks and paying off every last penny of personal expenditure through office funds and tax credits. The big fat juicy prize waiting in the federal Parliament isn't a chance to rectify the disastrous state of political affairs in Canada. It's the benefit of being in a position of privelege and power.

SPQR. It's a heartwarming concept, or at least it would be if it ever saw the light of day. I, for one, continue to be disillusioned by the dismal dilapidation of Canadian politics.

Oh, and for those of you who were wondering, here's a taste of the news that was beaten out for a higher placement in the A-section by the "insulting remarks" of Paul Martin's spokesperson (they also managed to be preceded by a two-page lingerie ad):

"Waits may be longer for OHIP eye exams"
"Japan eases ban on Canadian beef"
"Guidelines would shield personal data" (an article about Ottawa's proposal to help prevent American agencies from snooping around in personal information about Canadians)
"Canadian missing from cruise ship"

And an entire page on the Toronto Star Santa Claus fund.

nice to know you

Sometimes people frustrate me to the point of insanity. Sometimes, in the middle of an MSN conversation, I'll turn away from my computer and stare blankly at the wall, wondering why human flaw is allowed to pollute the gene pool so rampantly. Sometimes I wonder if whoever I'm talking to actually thinks they've got me fooled with what they're saying or implying or withholding. Sometimes I'm just amazed by how pretension and pride and pronounced self-pity find their way so readily into my most sacred relationships, and sometimes I hate the ones who allow it to happen. Sometimes I wish I had real friends, friends that I could argue with or hurt and be hurt by but still always be honest to. Sometimes I wish I had friends who were honest with me.

I wonder if truth between people has become another one of those overrated, old-fashioned commodities in our high-tech, high-fashion, 7,500 rotations-per-minute world. Does it get lost in all the hustle and bustle of the city life? I guess honesty can be a hindrance to efficiency. Life doesn't quite move smoothly when you tell everyone the truth all the time, does it? You can't expect anyone to understand anyways.

Or maybe that's not even the issue; maybe this is our way of fighting against the impersonality of two hundred names on a contact list. What better way to incite curiosity (or pity, or guilt) than to tell an obvious lie? I mean, it gets the point across, plus it adds an extra percieved layer of depth to your three-dimensional character -- and as an added bonus, you can keep your hands and your conscience clean of having to be the one to say the damned thing that you couldn't bring yourself to! Because now your partner in this hellish waltz of disfigured agape is the one charged with deciphering your Nazi war code. Isn't that a comforting thought? It's always easier to let things happen according to your pace. Let the world come to you. It's all about you.

I'm starting to think that self-actualization has become such a necessary (un)ethical foundation that it's made martyrs out of all things holy and wholly good in relationships. Honesty is a long-lost virtue in this demi-political battlefield of sweet words and harsh intentions. Selflessness and empathy died hand in hand -- the second people started expecting me to care about why I wasn't doing enough for them was the second I stopped caring. And love, the greatest and most encompassing of all of the fruits of human interrelation, probably never even found its way into most of our friendships anyways.

And then, sometimes (albeit rarely), I think about how Jesus Christ is my friend. How Jesus Christ views my dishonesty and my ill motives and my self-pity. How Jesus Christ puts up with my proud and selfish nature. How Jesus Christ is still my friend. How Jesus Christ still loves me. How? How? I'd really like to know.

gray matters - part i

"I see him here every day."

"What?"

"That guy up there, the homeless guy. I see him every day."

"Oh... well it's not like they're exactly uncommon around here or anything, right?"

"Yeah, no, it's just that he's always here."

"... well he doesn't really have anywhere better to go."

"Yeah, guess not."

"..."

"What?"

"I don't know -- I guess I feel kinda bad."

"Well it's not like there's anything you could've done."

"Well I could've given him money or something."

"What, like a couple cents?"

"Yeah, I don't know, I have like... let me see... couple quarters and some dimes."

"What could you possibly buy around here with that?"

"I don't know, maybe it'll accumulate or something."

"Maybe. Still don't see the point though."

"Of giving him money?"

"Yeah, like... what if you're walking down the street and you see a guy, and you give him something, and then you keep going and you see another guy but you don't have anything left to give? Do you stop and say, 'Sorry, I just gave my money to that guy back there' or something? Or do you walk past as if you don't see him?"

"So it's better to give to no one at all?"

"Better than having to pick between people."

"But you could be saving a life with what you give."

"Yeah, and damning another one at the same time. I say it's best to treat them equally."

"That's a weird moral structure to follow."

"Well, it helps to know that the money isn't going anywhere useful anyways."

"How's it not?"

"Come on, it's not like they're actually trying to get off the streets or something. If they were trying, they'd be looking for jobs instead of sitting out there all the time."

"Or maybe no one wants to hire them? Maybe they're impaired or something? Maybe that's just the way they were raised?"

"I think it's got more to do with laziness. That, and the fact that they don't want to take responsibility for anything."

"Or maybe we're the ones who're being lazy and irresponsible by not helping them?"

"..."

"I don't know. I walk by that guy every morning, and every morning I pretend I don't even see him. I walk right by him and go and buy a nice hot cup of tea or something at Timmy's, and then I walk out and he's right there by the door, but I just look away."

"Doubt he recognizes you."

"That's not the point. The point is that the only way I can get past him is by not looking at him. Otherwise I know what I'm doing is wrong."

"Sounds like you think it's wrong either way."

"Yeah, well, I think my conscience is a bit flexible in terms of what it allows."

"And how do you decide how much to give? Do you have to set aside a certain amount for homeless people or something, like you do for AIDS and all that stuff?"

"Yeah, I guess that'd work best."

"Isn't that a bit morally elitist? Like we judge and value peoples' lives based on to a percentage of what we have?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"What if it runs out? Or what if you want to buy something? What if you need to buy something?"

"Well, that's why it's better to not have anything than to have it all and have to share."

"Yeah, I guess... hey, there's another one."

"Another what?"

"Another homeless guy."

"Oh..."

"Well now's your chance."

"..."

"..."

"We just passed --"

"I know."

"... alright."

"... I know."

"Are... you alright?"

"I couldn't."

"Couldn't give him money?"

"I couldn't look at him."

"... why?"

"I couldn't stop thinking about that other guy I walk by every day."

"Why?"

"... cause I know when tomorrow comes I'm just gonna do it again."

kid b

A couple months ago, when Josh and Char came back into town, they impressed on me a really beautiful idea that I'd been slowly and unknowingly approaching for some time. Funny, it's also one that Byron left a comment about here a week before they came. Anyways, the idea was to start some kind of a little group -- a "small group" if you will, in modern North American evangelist terminology -- within our church to encourage spiritual growth. Any spiritual growth. Because the truth of it was that, with the size of our church and our fellowships and the need to generalize and be impersonal in order to reach everyone, peoples' individual needs were being overlooked. That, coupled with the relative lack of depth in relationships that we Asians tend to establish with each other, meant that a whole bunch of us were getting next to nothing in terms of direct, personal, relevant spiritual guidance.

I'm one of those people. There's a reason I hate Sunday school and have difficulty with fellowships nowadays. It's just not what I need. I want a challenge, and I want a meaningful one. I don't want to be spoonfed things that I really could've figured out on my own. I don't need to be led/dragged by the hand in any particular direction other than the one that I know leads to God. I definitely don't want or need to be held back, to be restricted in my faith and my character by dogma and old rules. As much as I hate it when people make a point like that about the church, I do think it's an actual flaw (that being said, I think it only applies in specific circumstances, and only to Christians -- doubt you'll ever find a church that'll get all Judge Judy on you if you tell them you aren't one (and so, in other words, if you're not a Christian then that's not a valid accusation you can make against the church)).

Anyways, I know there are others of you out there, other NYCBCers who kinda really don't fit anywhere else. I know that you've been looking everywhere for people who you can talk to about things that the majority of the world just doesn't know how to talk about, and that you've been looking for like-minded people to share your thoughts and your feelings with. I know you've probably been feeling really dislocated from church, fellowships, cell groups, even friends, because things seem to happen differently for everyone else.

Well, guess what? You aren't alone. Char's (brilliant) idea was that we form a little group of our own, to address our own needs and our own questions in a productive, helpful way. And we'd go about it according to the way we see and want to do things, not according to some archaic "fellowship" formula -- meaning that yes, we can get together and discuss theology over bubble tea and other such abominations, including curry fish balls. Don't know what more there is to say about it than that, since... well, I haven't exactly seen this in practice before, so I can't exactly tell you what it's like. If you're interested, you'll have to figure it out with me.

So yeah, if you're interested, please let me know somehow. And you know, if this whole formal small group label thing annoys you in any way, then it doesn't have to be like that. There doesn't need to be a set routine or a rigid structure or anything. I'd like to think of this more as a meeting/thinking/sharing opportunity for a bunch of disillusioned washouts of contemporary Christianity that think there's still a way to get to know God.

One final note -- if you're already in a small group that you feel is good for you, or you don't go to NYCBC, this isn't for you. If neither of those apply and you can agree with the nonsense I've been talking about, leave a comment.

This is the B-side.

kid a

I've been tagged:

List seven songs that you're into right now, regardless of genre, quality, lyrical composure, or time period. They have to be the seven songs that you like the most right now. Then tag the next seven people to do it. Except that I'm not going to, because Val stole my tags.

1. U2 - Walk On (from U2 Go Home - Live at Slane Castle)
2. George Friedrich Handel - See the Conqu'ring Hero Comes (Judas Maccabaeus)
3. David Crowder Band - All I Can Say (All I Can Say)
4. Radiohead - Paranoid Android (OK Computer)
5. Matthew Good Band - Strange Days (Beautiful Midnight)
6. Kendall Payne - Pray (Grown)
7. Switchfoot - Dare You to Move (Learning to Breathe/Beautiful Letdown/Nothing is Sound JPN)

This is the A-side.

a millennial archetype

this isn't rebellion, this is having a free mind;

,ot tnaw i kcuf eht revetahw od ot dnim a (<--)

whenever i want to,
however i want to,
because i don't fit into an archetypal mold.

Power to the people. Down with principalities. Equality, not oligarchy.

there's aids in africa, there's a war in columbia
there's injustice in the middle east.
LOOK AT ABU GHRAIB(auschwitz).

thisiswhatyougetwhenyouconformtotherulesthataregiventoyou

karma police, arrest this girl!
her hitler hairdo is making me feel ill

and we have crashed her paaaaaaaaartyyyy

Damn the following things:
1. god
2. the church that believes in god
3. the church that believes in god and interferes with politics
4. the church that believes in god and interferes with our lives
5. the people who go to church
6. america, and
7. by extension, britain
8. people who think you have to fit norms to fit in
9. people who can't accept that some people want to be free
10. homophobics, everyone has a right to do anything
11. the church that hates homosexuals
12. asians who think life is all about marks
13. stereotyping racist pigs (who think the world declared jihad on them)
14. canadian prime ministers
15. NIKE NIKE NIKE NIKE NIKE NIKE NIKE NIKE NIKE NIKE
16. other companies, like microsoft, that employ sweatshop labour
17. opinionated people who don't know anything about their opinions!
18. hypocrites
19. the mainstream
20. america

burn the church burn the church burn the church burn the church

and when it's gone burn america
and when it's gone burn britain by extension
and then burn nike and other immoral companies like microsoft
and then burn the asians and their marks

and when there's nothing left to burn you have to set yourself on fire

May God have mercy on your soul.