Guess who the BBC likes more, Bush or Clinton?

Iraq war fuels terror - US report
The Iraq conflict has become a "cause celebre" for Islamic militants worldwide, declassified parts of a US intelligence report say.

Yes, screw up our world, why don't you.

Clinton charms Albert Hall audience
In an appearance at London's Royal Albert Hall, former US President Bill Clinton charmed his audience in a wide-ranging talk.

Testimony

Taken off BBC's In Pictures feature on Bulgaria's EU membership. For some reason this is sad.

Ivan Serafimov
Magazine editor, 62

"I am glad Bulgaria is becoming an EU member but that will not change anything in my life. It's too late for me.

I am disappointed by the political and economic transition during the last 16 years because everything was engineered from above.

No-one is telling the truth and no-one cares any more."

Singapore, take note.

Lecture today

This is what I was reading during lecture.

"Art is not a sermon, and the artist is not a preacher. Art accomplishes by indirection. The beautiful refines. The perfect in art suggests the perfect in conduct. The harmony in music teaches, without intention, the lesson of proportion in life. The bird in his song has no moral purpose, and yet the influence is humanizing. The beautiful in nature acts through appreciation and sympathy. It does not browbeat, neither does it humiliate. It is beautiful without regard to you. Roses would be unbearable if in their red and perfumed hearts were mottoes to the effect that bears eat bad boys and that honesty is not the best policy.

Art creates an atmosphere in which the proprieties, the amenities, and the virtues unconsciously grow. The rain does not lecture the seed. The light does not make rules for the vine and flower.

The heart is softened by the pathos of the perfect."

- Art and Morality, Robert Ingersoll

Gratitude

Dear Violin Teacher,

Thank you for being so nice to me. I'm forever grateful that you don't pull my ears off (or shout them off) the way I deserve. I'm also grateful that you haven't attempted to chop my fingers off with your chopper (the non-flying kind), even though your kitchen is so temptingly near. Thank you for doing nothing other than look pointedly at the clock and say 'you're very late' when I'm half a lesson late. And thank you for making the lesson moderately pleasant and non-confrontational, even though I've become an unrepentant lazy student. You should have expelled me from the school of trainee violinists already.

I guess it's because you were a student not too long ago too. You know how it is right? Those friends you haven't seen in 3 millenia, and you just have to go out with them. Cos you see, if they sail off on those ships to the West you'll have to wait another 3 millenia to even sniff their BO again.

And all that youtube... it's a horrendous ploy I know, but I can't help watching. You know, just in case they shut the site down and I'll regret the rest of my sad life that I was not able to finish watching Naruto for free. I know they'll probably show it on cable soon if they haven't already. But you know how it's different watching all through the night when you have a deadline the next day right? You're only young once you know.

Speaking of which, the assignments that just cannot be completed... and the readings (oh gawd, the readings... just kill me now...) You understand that don't you? The long, meaningless hours of torture... You do know I'd rather practise than do those readings? Yes, thank goodness you understand.

I promise I'll practise for the next lesson. As a matter of fact, I've already brought my violin out of its case. Now once I finish watching this episode of X/1999...

Love,
Your student.

Darling Musharraf

US 'threatened to bomb' Pakistan
The US threatened to bomb Pakistan "back to the stone age" unless it joined the fight against al-Qaeda, President Pervez Musharraf has said.

paraphraase of Musharraf's statement by justareed: "We're more democratic than the US!"

Sappy post

When his mum suggested he should reciprocate and buy my family mooncakes today, Ed gave me That Look.

That dismayed look that complains plaintively:

"Why have you taken my mother away and replaced her with a robot under your control?"

"Why did you have to tell my friends that?"

"Why did you have to leave the ice-cream on the table to melt?"

Mwahahaha.

But he still wins. Cos there's very little a girl won't forgive for a look like that. You could see a lifetime in that look.

The Host

Remember what I said about films being the sole consolation for a dull, boring life? I watched The Host with Ed! Yay!

But first, speaking of films... Paula Abdul appeared in the Rockstar audience yesterday! (yes, I'm very up to date with certain types of news.) Hey Paula, check out the singers who can sing (compared to American Idol), and the wonderful show format (compared to American Idol), and the lack of soppy family videos (compared to American Idol).

Spoilers warning! Don't read if you haven't and are going to watch The Host.














The Host had a sad ending... So much for "a family comedy in the guise of a monster movie" (Ed's words). So I was sad for a while. But what I found really disturbing about the film was that it seemed to be the fantasy of a guilty father (perhaps it's just me).

Ok, spoilers warning #2. If you read on, don't blame me.

Let's read the movie like this: a father who seems slow and totally 'out of it' lives with his father and his precocious daughter. He's looked down upon by all his family members, including his daughter, but he loves them, especially his daughter, dearly. So what essentially happens is, a monster appears from out of the blue, kills his father and daughter despite his best efforts to save them, and in the end, he adopts a little boy who gets along with him and doesn't look down on him, and he takes over his father's store.

Hmmm. Suppose I was a father who doesn't have the respect of my child or dad, I live with my dad and I'm a lowly employee in his store while he makes all the decisions and often scolds me. What would I fantasize?

Suppose... a monster came and killed the two of them. And of course I didn't want that. I tried to save them. It wasn't my fault. Everything was out of my control. I cried over my dad's body. I cried over my daughter's body. I avenged my family by killing the monster. I've been absolved from all guilt. And I adopted this little boy my daughter died trying to save. It was the right thing to do. But it is only with this little boy that I can build up the parent-child relationship that I've always dreamt of having.

Ok... Maybe it's just me. But I thought there were tell-tale signs. Like when his brother and sister were weeping over the body of his daughter, he walked up to the little boy (after killing the monster) and picked him up. And it seemed by the end of year he'd lost all interest in the event that should be considered traumatic to him. He absent-mindedly switches off the tv - doesn't even notice it actually - when a news report comes on about the monster, in order to concentrate on having dinner with his new son. He now owns the store, and is in charge of protecting it. He holds the gun. His new son doesn't talk back at him, and is, actually, very much like him. Both stole stuff when they were young because they were hungry; the last 'family scene' with his new son shows the son basically sleeping and eating - the two preoccupations of the protagonist. This is really the perfect son for him.

Hmmm. If you were a father who didn't have the respect of your family, didn't have your own means of making a living, had to depend on others, were at the beck and call of your father... If you couldn't deal with the fact that you longed to be rid of this family, if you couldn't deal with the fact that actually, what you really wanted was another family in which everyone respected you, and you were in control... what would you fantasize?

Woman's weapon

Colombian gangsters face sex ban
Wives and girlfriends of gang members in one of Colombia's most violent cities have called a sex ban in a bid to get their men to give up the gun.

Go gals!

My friend, the award-winning director

We went to watch Joyce's documentary at Substation last night, and it was GOOD!!!!!!!!!! It was so funny! And the audience loved it! She got the most laughs and the loudest applause. Joyce is SO cool!

After the screening Joyce was literally mobbed by screaming fans (ok that was just us, her personal groupies, but people DID mob her during the Q & A, and she received a flood of namecards and DVD requests). And Min, Jean and I stood around absolutely thrilled cos WE LOVE JOYCE! (haha don't kill me please)

But really, her documentary is fantastic. She got some really brilliant interviewees (including Ivan Heng and Woffles Wu), and the message came across strong and clear. We were telling her that she should just sell the DVD.

And for those not in the know *sniffs disdainfully*, what I'm talking about is Singapore Standard Time, a short documentary about time and trees and Singapore. As far as I know, it'll be showing on Central (?) sometime early next year. Don't miss it!

Just to get it out of my system

Qualifiers: I'm writing this based on my somewhat hazy memory of the show, so perhaps I've left out elements or exaggerated (even made up) some things. If I ever watch the show again, I'll re-look this.

Spoilers!

I was wondering why Tony Takitani was so strangely compelling (hehe), and I finally hit on a strangely compelling explanation. The show was very very very tightly controlled. So tightly controlled that it was very finished and very disciplined. I got the vague sense, even while watching, that it was a very 'small' show, not just because it was short (about 1.5hrs) and about only 1 man (as you can tell by the title), but also because of the style. It wasn't flashy, it wasn't grand, it wasn't exciting; by right it should have been kind of dull. But the style really reinforced the theme of the movie - loneliness. Restraint in the style parallels the protagonist's restraint on his feelings (loneliness), which was also compared to the physical imprisonment of his father (another type of restraint).

And now I shall proceed with the analytically dubious exercise of talking about restraint on the part of the director, the composer, and the fictional characters in the show in one breath. And I'm going to get away with it because it's my blog, and all I want to do is to explore (why the show is strangely compelling and) the feeling I get of restraint in all elements of the show.

I thought the use of a narrator was a big factor. Having a narrator tell the whole story takes away the sense of spontaneity and 'presence'. The movie is not one that is happening there and then, while you're sitting in the cinema. Restraint vs spontaneity... The sense of anticipation is taken away because everything already seems inevitable. Which is all the more depressing, because there doesn't seem to be any hope, and the few instances of hope (that I'll talk about later) have the audience really wishing that there could be a happy ending or at least some sort of resolution. (of course it doesn't happen)

Plus the narration was very matter-of-fact, even during the sad/traumatic parts. Very... restrained.

The framing of scenes was interesting also. Lots of boxes, very careful, very orderly.

The use of sound - it was a very quiet movie. I don't think there was any scene with loud music (oh yeah there was! when Tony was watching his dad's performance).

The use of colours - nothing flashy, all blues and greens and greys and browns. With the exception of the wife.

The wife obviously stands as a counter to Tony. Tony might be an artist, but he draws very very careful, detailed, emotionless pictures of machines. He is very organized, not very expressive, stoic, and to many, quite boring. He is someone who denies his own emotions, his own loneliness. We never see him emotional except when it comes to his wife, and even then, his emotions are 'hidden' from us by the director. When he asks his future wife out, he is emotional (and kind of sappy) but we look at them from the distance and through the rain, and of course, we are told what happened by the narrator. When his wife dies, he cries, but behind the sofa, so we never see his face. His wife, though, is unable to restrain herself from spending on clothes. While Tony deals with the loneliness by turning it inwards, restraining his emotions and behaviour, his wife deals with it by externalizing it... by wearing her solutions outside.

And interestingly, it is the clash between restraint and the lack of restraint that leads to the wife's death and the breaking down of Tony's newfound happiness. I guess it sounds silly that the wife died because Tony asked her not to buy more clothes and she tries to, but cannot restrain herself. But her death is also the premature death of Tony's attempt at learning to open up and express himself - the failure of his new venture into the realm of emotions, so to speak. When the extreme lack of restraint represented by the wife dies, Tony is back to his old ways. The clash between Tony and his wife over her spending is a clash within Tony too - keeping everything orderly and controlled vs letting go and escaping the imprisonment of this self-imposed restraint and loneliness. Without his wife, Tony cannot accomplish the latter.

So the wife is interesting. Tony was able to date her because his self-restraint broke down once. When she dies, we see Tony returning to his apartment, doing the chores, and then there is quiet, then there is the regular ticking of the clock, and Tony crying behind the sofa. I really liked that scene because the sense of loneliness is so oppressive. Really brilliant.

If the wife is interesting, the effect her death has is interesting too. Tony loses the two people in his life (his wife and dad), both of whom were more colourful than him. (A note on the dad. The dad is a jazz musician, which suggests improvisation, spontaneity, passion, feeling.) At first Tony seems to want to deal with his grief. However, it gets too burdensome. So he sells his wife's clothes, burns his dad's old records until finally, he is truly and absolutely alone. His way of dealing with the tragedies is learning to forget and to restrain the emotions, and in doing so, making himself even lonelier.

Tony sets about trying to get over his wife's death in an almost laughably rational way. He attempts to hire a female personal assistant to wear his wife's clothes, just so he can get used to his new life. He puts an ad in the papers, specifies the requirements, conducts job interviews, and then chooses a girl who looks like his wife.

The girl, who seems like a peripheral figure at first, actually becomes a central figure. When she sees his wife's collection of branded clothes, she starts crying because she's never seen so many beautiful clothes in one place before. In the end Tony doesn't hire her, but though he's able to distance himself from the memory of his wife and father, he cannot forget the girl who cried.

Following our discussion on self-restraint, this shouldn't be surprising. It doesn't matter that the girl cried for entirely the wrong reason. She was able to experience the catharsis that Tony is not able to. She was able to cry openly in front of the camera, whereas Tony had to restrain his emotions, and had to hide his (very limited, all things considered) expression of grief. His wife just died, but it is the girl who is crying, not himself.

It is not strange then, that the movie ends with Tony trying to contact the girl. What is he trying to accomplish? Perhaps he is trying to connect to the only person left to him who seemed to care. Perhaps he is somehow trying to get in touch with the sense that it is possible to reach out to another person, to forget restraint, as he did with his wife. Or perhaps he is simply fascinated by that image of catharsis that he is so divorced from. His phone call to the girl seemed entirely impulsive, his last attempt at escaping the prison and loneliness he's created for himself. Of course, almost inevitably, he misses her by just a few seconds, and the movie ends there.

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

Ok, can you imagine not being able to think of anything EXCEPT that bloody movie while you're trying to finish your readings on balance of power in Asia? Freaking hell. Between, I apologise if not everything is logically consistent. The above is more an amalgamation of related thoughts than an argument.

Oh, and one last note on the movie, before I feel compelled to blog about it again, there is probably another level of discourse. All members of Tony's family are dealing with a sense of emptiness, and escaping from their own traumas. His dad cannot stay in one place, or spend much time with his son. His wife feels as if she has to spend on clothes to fill up the emptiness. Tony... well, Tony we know. There're probably themes of alienation, materialism, capitalism, identity, Westernization in there.

Note: The wife's obsession with clothes is exacerbated by a trip to Europe // The father's love of a Western form of music (jazz).

Ok enough! I need to stop thinking about this movie!

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

I've got Jay's album! *does hip-hop Jay victory dance*

But I'm slightly disappointed in it. It's all very nice, I know *waves fingers dismissively*, but kind of tame? I prefer Jay with an edge. Like, put him in corny costumes! Get him to sing weird songs! Put him in a lousy singlet even! Drama mtvs! Just don't make him boring... And don't make him sing with Fei Yu Qing haha...

Though music tends to grow on me, so maybe some KTV sessions later I'll find myself liking the album.

Gigolo Wannabe

It's actually wholesome fun and entertainment.

Miserable!

Yes yes, another cliched post about being miserable. A blog that has literary pretensions (did you notice my deliberate - yes of course it's deliberate - Elizabeth Browning misquote? Did you? Did you?) ought to do better.

Like my last entry. That was good, no? Film reviews are always good. I even made it clear that I. Watched. A. Play. (or did you not get the point?)

But I'm miserable!

Well, don't I have anything better to do? Why sit around being - wastefully, boringly - miserable?

Because I'm Miserable!!!!! *cry* And miserable people don't do a hell lot of stuff. They just sit around... and be miserable.

(Oh wait wait, reference to musical coming up.)

Of course I know about Les Miserables. But hey, people don't do stuff like that anymore. Run around and put up barricades (& die on them) when they're miserable. Look where it got those baguette-eating tots. Nowadays miserable people just watch Rockstar Supernova and CSI.

And you know, it's not just me. In my last semester at a certain (very very reputable - but I'm not mentioning names just in case you get envious) university, I took this kickass module (I really really really mean this. It kicked my ass good.) and studied this German guy who said very specifically that nowadays miserable people watch tv. And we know how these Germans always get their stuff right.

(yes, cheap shot)

So you see, it's not my fault. It's the system.

Don't you find it strange that nowadays, people keep saying that if you're miserable, it's ALL YOUR FAULT? If you're miserable in a new environment, you should adapt. If you hate where your life is going, you should re-arrange your preferences. Change yourself to suit the system! Why doesn't anyone talk about changing the system to suit yourself?

Maybe it's because we're all busy watching tv.

Mostly about movies... and stuff

Spoilers warning!

I've been watching tonnes of movies lately!

I watched well... Ant Bully, which doesn't really count.

The Producers - hilarious, but I suspect the original was better (aren't they always?). I really liked the white Ikea furniture scene (you'll know what I mean if you watched). I thought the ending a mite draggy.

Pretty Persuasion! It's a must-watch. There's a good dose of 'inappropriateness' (quoted from a review), which makes it fun to watch (if you enjoy gasping in horror at the depths some people can sink to tsk tsk). I like the complexity of the main character. I can see why she's a tragic figure, mostly villainous, but somewhat misunderstood and self-destructive. In fact, the most interesting character by far in the show (with possible exception of decadent old dad, but nah, not really).

Tony Takitani today... Such a sad little movie... Such a sad little smooshy little movie... *tear* Another must-watch, if you're not feeling too sleepy. Arty films are a little slow. Ah, but it's slow but strangely compelling (yay! I can now be a film critic because I have used the words strangely compelling!) (sorry J, if this seems a little familiar)(and by the way, I really do mean it's strangely compelling, it being the most strangely compelling film I've seen in ages.)

It's funny how different people notice different things in films. J noticed the camera action and the framing and transition of scenes. I noticed the comparison/similarities between father and son - a musician and an artist, both experienced a type of imprisonment (this comparison was made as explicit as arty films go) as well as loneliness, both lost a wife. As well as the differences. I noticed the piano theme vs the father's trombone jazz. I noticed the very very very regular background music (which was used at least once, to remind us of a clock ticking), again, in contrast to the jazz. I noticed the water motif - the sea, the rain, washing the car, watering the cactus. Both of us noticed the very noticeable narration, and the quietness of the film.

Hmm actually, that's not really tonnes of movies. But I watched all that in the past 10 days! Not too bad lar.

I'm watching movies because movies have become the only bright spark in my life. 2 hours of my life during which I have no choice but to sit in the dark and not feel compelled to read? Excellent!

The reason I hate weekly assignments is it makes me feel trapped. The system is such that I have to do something every week whether I like it or not. I really really hate it. I hate feeling compelled to go for lessons regularly, I hate feeling compelled to read and write regularly. The thought of doing all that is worse than... well, a lot of things. It's the thought of it that makes everything so stressful and miserable. I want the freedom to go wherever I like, to read whatever I want, whenever I want to. I don't like feeling obliged or forced to do things.

You're not allowed to eat or drink in the Picturehouse. I suppose it's because arty films are so silent (I know this because of my vast experience with 1 arty film), and they don't want coke-slurping or popcorn-munching sounds. Or maybe popcorn and coke is just too plebian (J's word) for a high-brow place like Picturehouse.

Speaking of which. Some time ago, Ed and I watched Salsa Salsa Salsa at the NLB. Talk about atas-ness. Everyone there looked old and/or rich. High density of Jimmy Choos (yes I know what that is!) and all. Unspoken rule that your bag cannot be bigger than an anorexic chihuahua (or a PDA) (or a well-endowed platinum card accompanied by a slim handphone). Someone behind us commented (loudly) that the play was like "a geriatric Sex in the City"! How often do you hear the word 'geriatric' in your normal (plebian) crowd? I can't even pronounce the word properly for goodness' sake. The next play I watch, I'm going to comment (loudly) that it is so 'phenomenologically Kafkaesque with a latter-day Straussian influence'.

Wait a minute. Why do I need movies to be happy? Why should I pay to regenerate the capitalist machinery that tortures me in order to be happy? Oppression, I call it! Tyranny, I name thee! Foul hegemony!

Fear

Another airport drama.

Oprah

I'm watching the Oprah Winfrey show for the first time! Featuring Elvis' wife and daughter. Till now I've never even heard of them. But Elvis' wife is so pretty! Really REALLY pretty. She looks like she's 30 (& don't remind me I'm almost there myself *cry*). That's what you get with plastic surgery (I suspect).

Maybe it's true that shows like this do reflect some sort of systematic psychosis in society. Oprah's a really strange combination of part-counsellor, part-friend, part-paparrazi, satisfying the need for comfort, the need for company, and the need for information/knowledge/gossip.

Oprah, after asking a controversial question, turns to audience and exclaims: You know you want to know too!

Please. Do I? Why would anyone want to know? Why have a show purely devoted to getting answers that no one (sane) wants to hear?

Why would anyone watch something like this unless there was something wrong with them anyway? Are we that miserable? Or unless they're procrastinating work haha...

Yay Boston Legal! *one of society's oppressed trots off for dose of opium*

miserable

I hate being sick.

Introductory post

I always knew I'd go public again, so here I am!

--Orientation--

Yep, my course is finally starting!

Orientation's been draining, because there's too much socializing (aka networking), which I don't mind in small portions, but THIS is way too much. I've come to realize that I really value my privacy, personal space and solitude. I get miserable and tired out by all this hand-shaking, so all I want now is solitude and rest and peace. Looks like I won't be going out till I recover.

--Academic--

I've got a feeling I'm in for a lot of frustration in class. The significant percentage of military/defence personnel suggests a predominantly realist class. And while I don't deny the relevance and applicability of realist theories, I don't find realist theories very attractive. Even if in some contexts, they may be very useful.

Realism, it seems to me, is not intellectually satisfying. (And I'm aware that 'realism' is not a monolith. There're 'better' realisms and 'worse' realisms.) This doesn't mean that I think realism has no explanatory value. It merely means I think realism isn't really much fun.

Class discussions frustrate me because even though I know that discussions are more like brainstorming sessions, it irks me that there is seldom any intellectual rigour in examining issues. It also irks me that some people assume that one can tell which theories/opinions are 'right' or 'wrong' simply through a discussion/roundtable. It irks me that such discussions are seldom comprehensive. It irks me that even though it's a brainstorming session (effectively), people are seldom willing to travel down strange, unfamiliar paths. It irks me that air-time is not given to the most considered opinions, but to the loudest voices.

And now the class includes people who are used to getting themselves heard. Yay.

It's worse, of course, when opinions are raised that go against my inclinations (which are not a product of rational, logical thought, but of personal, almost instinctual preference). Hence the dismay at the potentially realist inclinations of the majority of the class.

I know I'm socially liberal, academically postmodernist. Not that I'm a postmodernist by any measure, but that I'm drawn towards ideas with a postmodern flavour (but are not necessarily postmodern). Even though I may reject such ideas in the end (for whatever reason). Ok, enough qualifications.

I prefer an eclectic approach to international relations, and I seem to have found something approximating that through the structure proposed by the English School. I'm aware, of course, that the English School is not able to accomodate all theories/paradigms/povs. Critical theory, for example (if we discount developments from the 1980s). Postmodernism (in its various guises). And even though I am aware of failings of the English School, I do hope to learn more about it.

The readings aren't that bad (I hope. I haven't looked). The workload in terms of readings is comparable to my honours year workload. However, how heavy the course is depends on whether I really have no choice but to read the darn things. In my honours year I er... took a rather liberal view on the readings (ie. each person - and I'm assuming rationality - knows what's best for him/her, and is therefore free to do what he/she wants), so the readings weren't really a problem. So I'm really really really hoping that this place allows me the same... flexibility.

Anyway, many people have asked me why I have chosen to take this route. I tend to fudge and evade such questions. But basically, this is my version of seeing the world.

--Music--

My violin teacher is pushing me to do Grade 8 next year. Grade 8! I'm not prepared for it at all. I still close my eyes and stop listening myself when I hit those high notes (and my definition of 'high notes' has changed throughout the years. Once it meant 2 octaves above middle C). My bowing still sucks. My teacher still discreetly leaves the room when I play a difficult piece. The horror!

I'll consider. But I also have to consider that if I don't do it next year, I won't have the chance again.

And my piano's been neglected.

Surprisingly, my temp-ing has exposed me to all sorts of music. I actually recognize singers and titles these days (some of the time).