Where chaos stops and more chaos ensues. Where Filia plays the electric keyboard.
Where anything goes.
-//o_O\\7 *Home of the Awful, Mediocre and Pathetic* -//u_u\\7
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Where chaos stops and more chaos ensues. Where Filia plays the electric keyboard. Where anything goes. -//o_O\\7 *Home of the Awful, Mediocre and Pathetic* -//u_u\\7 |
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Saturday, May 08, 2004 Book review! There isn't much point venturing a guess as to just what book it might be, though you can probably list several (hundreds) of what it definitely won't be, so allow me to introduce ... Frankenstein by Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin Shelley. Yep, it's that very same monster Frankenstein of movie fame, except that this time it's the original text, and the characters are presented with the author's original intentions. Just a note before I start blabbering ... as all intelligent book-readers should know, Frankenstein is the name of the scientist, Victor Frankenstein, and the fact is that the monster he created never really had a name, so for convenience's sake I'll refer to it as the monster, in the third person. Another interesting titbit would be the name of the author. Conveniently abbreviated to "Mary Shelley", she's related to several prominent figures that one ought to take care not to mistake with her. Her mother was Mary Wollstonecraft, the famous feminist activist of the late 18th century, well, feminist by modern definitions (and by mine, for sure) in a limited fashion because back then it was not so much a fight for equality or equity but for simply getting education and employment, which makes me give (a little) thanks for the age I live in. Her husband was Percy Bysse Shelley, that poet who wrote To a Skylark and, as the age-old joke goes, never got a reply. I don't know anything about him, largely because I ignore most poetry. Her father was, presumably, Mr. Godwin. As a result, due to the relative fame of her mother we can't call her Mary Wollstonecraft, and to call her Mary Shelley or Mary Godwin would be caving in to patriarchal dominance. So I'll call her Mary, and leave it at that. At least she isn't Mary Ann "Oying" Evans. The relative fame of Frankenstein's monster as a movie creation has largely misled the misinformed imbeciles of the world into bearing many misconceptions about it, that it is a hideous abomination of wanton destruction, or that it is a misguided and misunderstood innocent lost in the world of human prejudices. As it turns out, neither of these horribly skewed views are remotely close to the original monster as painted in the original novel. Perhaps a plot summary, without too much elaboration, would be necessary to dispel many of the myths the horror movies of Hollywood have put into our heads. Basically, Frankenstein's hubris and his fascination with the power of creation lead him to conjure up his own lifeform, a giant humanoid of knitted flesh and bone. However, upon the animation of his creation (which is never really explained in the novel, and no, it is not by electricity) he is overcome with horror and flees like the responsibility-fearing man he is. The monster itself is a creation from human bodies, and is wholly biological, without any bolts or joints or whatever. That's Hollywood. Though one would wonder why, if the monster was made from human bodies, it assumed a size larger than any human one. A major feature in the monster's expressions, and its ugliness, are its large bulbous yellow eyes. Where did Frankenstein get those from? Not from Silas Marner, he was born a century too late. Think of a homunculus, a flesh golem of some sort, except that it can grow and adapt. And it happens to be, inexplicably, male. Well, Frankenstein made it, so I guess he knows what gender it is, though until it was brought up in the novel I assumed it was some non-sexual construct of some sort. The monster is one that is sentient, very much intelligent, in fact, almost as much of a genius in discerning and concluding as its own creator (which is to say, able to reason, but not particularly smart in perceiving the consequences of its actions). However, like any newly-created child, it initially possesses but a blank of knowledge, it knows nothing of the world that it was born into. However, unlike a child, its mental capacities are very much advanced, within days it learns about its surroundings, about sustaining its own life, and eventually, about the existence of a human society which it finds itself utterly excluded from on the account of its ugliness. The charm in this novel, then, is an incredibly long extract in the middle of the novel where the monster speaks non-stop to Frankenstein for about five chapters. And, apparently, in concentric rings of story-telling, the monster's speech is heard by Frankenstein, who narrates it to the 'protagonist' (the person described as 'I', a similarly deluded character who is on a quest for the North Pole), who is, in turn, writing to his younger sister. That is some memory they have. Anyway, the point is that the charm is in watching this slow adaptation from an utterly confused, blundering ignoramus into a more sophisticated thinking, reasoning, and more importantly feeling creature. Through a rather convenient twist of the plot, the monster is able to spy on a family, living in a disused shack next to theirs, and from them learns about human interaction, about languages and culture, about aspirations and affections. The tragedy, then, is when the monster feels that he is capable of proving his worth as a no less capable member of human society, he is furiously rejected on the account of no less than his ugliness. Human prejudices, or simply human nature? This is the part of the novel which, I feel, incites the most thought and controversy. Were the townsfolk justified in rejecting the monster on account of his appearance? Should they have been more human, in extending a hand in aid to the creature despite its appearance? Or is it human to succumb to such prejudices, to take things at surface value and not to be more discerning than necessary? Should we be less human, then, like the monster who, despite its appearance, is far more capable, more intelligent, more unbiased, than all of humanity and, no less, its own creator. A frail balance between emotion and reason, two very important but inevitably conflicting aspects of humanity. Given my general distaste for human nature and all, it's fairly easy to see how I would interpret this one. Anyway, all that explanations past, the monster goes on a quest to find Frankenstein, not to find out more about its creation and its existence (the information having been conveniently left in a coat swiped by the monster before he left the laboratory, in another authorly twist of fate. Call that genius, as Mr. Purvis would? I call it cheating.), but to demand a task of him. At that point in time, Frankenstein is in emotional turmoil due to the successive deaths of a younger brother and a friend, apparently on the charge of the child's murder. The murders, apparently, have been caused inadvertantly, in an impulse of emotion, by the monster, and Frankenstein, having spotted traces of the monster near the murder scene, has already suspected this. Anyway, the monster, now aware of the depths of human relationships and the angst that comes of the exclusion from them, demands that Frankenstein build him a counterpart such that the monster would not lack companionship. The Bride of Frankenstein, if you will, and that is when I realised the monster, like any male creature, has those same crazed urges of any male. Spot on, Mary! If your mother was a feminist activist (and presumably, you are a girl ...) you wouldn't miss such things! This is where the plot, and the emotions of it, begin to warp. The monster threatens retaliation if his demand is not fulfilled, as, already living in a hell on earth, the monster promises to extend this hell to his creator so that he will be able to understand its torment. Somewhat short-sighted, in immediately resorting to violence, but is the monster justified in making this threat? Is it human to claim vengeance, if you will, on being brought into the world against nature, and against our own wills. Technically, however, we humans could claim the same against our parents ... hmm ... Again, blurring the distinctions between human and creation, Frankenstein embarks on the quest of creating a counterpart for his monster, but, when he espies the not particularly stealthy monster watching him in his grisly contruction, he is seized by a fit of rage and conscience and destroys the half-complete monster. Human to give in to the anguish of need, or human to respect the sanctity of life? Seeing its hopes destroyed, the monster goes on a series of murders to make Frankenstein's life a living hell as his friends and family are one by one taken away from him, and he is forced to deal with the repercussions of their murders, such as being falsely accused of his study mate's murder (as his friend earlier was, and executed for it), and the incredulous looks and rejection he receives in attempting to explain his creation of a monster as a cause of all the tragedy ... repercussions which, ironically, he could have avoided, if only he had initially been willing to take responsibility for his creation, to look after it and meet its best interests as any good creator should. Anyway, the story ends with Frankenstein falling into delirium, with his family gone, now on a crazed rage to pursue the monster to the ends of the earth and destroy it. However, his mission remains incomplete as he is eluded by the monster for a final time in the Arctic wastes, and is found by the 'protagonist', where he relates his story. Beyond the conflict inherent in human nature I have already elaborated upon earlier, another point of contention would be the tenuous relationship between creator and creation, master and slave, where, as the plot develops, they invariably grow similar until all distinctions are blurred, least of all expressed in Frankenstein's final chase for his monster, expending his health in a mad quest for a quarry he cannot catch. Frankenstein is also subtitled The Modern Prometheus, Prometheus referring to the titan who bestows flame upon humans, and in the process, bestows both life (in the sense of the fire's warmth) and strength (in the ability to use fire). Frankenstein has re-enacted this by creating a monster which turns out to be stronger than himself, as the introduction postulates, a scientific extension of what has long been a cornerstone of mythology ... and its implications of actually existing beyond myth. The parallels between Frankenstein and his monster can similarly be extended to many aspects of life, for example the relation between man and ... and man's preferred heavenly deity, or, more relevantly, the relation between parents and children. Bestow life upon a new generation only to have them exceed ourselves? For another science-fiction analogy of this, read The Food of the Gods by H.G. Wells. My suggestion, however, is that we institutionalise cloning, and cut our creations off from ourselves, our creations then having companions of their own, unlike Frankenstein's monster who was lost in a world which rejected him. The problems in this novel (So, I nitpick. What's new?) include, as I already explained, the inexplicable twists in the plot that grant undue amounts of information to the protagonist, to Frankenstein, or his monster, far too convenient a means for my liking. Another issue that irks me is the somewhat limited depth of contemplation by both Frankenstein and his monster. Is violence and revenge the only solution upon not achieving one's desires? Are we so bound by pride and hubris that we are unwilling to take responsibility for our actions, to confess, and to face ridicule? Or perhaps in this caricature, Mary explains the sad truth that yes, the choices of humans are limited by nothing more than their passions. There are some incredibly smart lines in the book as well, the first I really liked being when Frankenstein refuses to speak with the monster, and says something along the lines of "I never wish to see you again". Upon which the monster claps its hand over Frankenstein's eyes, and the conversation resumes (amidst much groaning from the reader). Wow. I wrote a lot. And I feel like a university professor lecturing her students ... hmm ...! So perhaps I might have a future in literature after all, as long as no one sees through my rampant blabbering and attempts to inundate my victims with verbosity rather than viscosity. Anyway, this book has been somewhat of an emotional journey, by attempting to reason through and account for the various emotions expressed by both Frankenstein and his monster, one is pressured to assess the 'optimal' way to lead a life, and inevitably, to apply it to one's own. And, if absolutely nothing else, it allows you to understand the story of the real Frankenstein, and his monster, and laugh in the face of those idiotic movie buffs who claim to know all about such horror staples. A definite recommendation. Pick Mary's book off the library shelf, and feel enlightened today! And make sure it's the right Mary. Remember, I wouldn't recommend books that I don't even read in the first place. posted by Charlotte | 4:56 pm Friday, May 07, 2004 Having noisy construction work going on next door is terrible, but similarly unbearable is the tangy and tangible smell of paint and thinner seeping in through one's windows (conveniently located directly adjacent to the source of such olfactory malcontent) which one is attempting to think straight in front of one's computer. It seems now that my cilia are severely damaged, to the extent that everything still reeks of that ungodly niff emanating from yonder neighbour. Or perhaps the truth is that that very everything reeks of that ungodly neighbour yonder. By Jove. So. This is the consequence of not thinking in advance. Or is it of allowing enthusiasm to consume oneself? Nevertheless, the difficulties have been noted, the problems must now be addressed. With merciless deftness shall we cut out the ill. On a belated note, I just realised that I missed going to watch Chorale's performance this very night (or, more accurately, the previous night), a pity, because I really wanted to see what the new batch of singers are capable of. They can play a good table of mahjong, that's for sure ... hmm ... And I also wanted to watch Kelvin Chan playing the piano in that distorted hairstyle of his which he seems to have taken a liking to. That is scary, friends. Well, too bad that I missed it, and another performance some weeks ago, simply because I failed to keep myself updated and reminded, but no serious loss. I'm currently on a vow, made unilaterally to a group of people who largely don't even advise me to make such a move, not to read any email sent to me until I finish a task that needs to be done. Anyway, I didn't even have a ticket in the first place ... let's just pretend that they were all sold out, or something. For everything you regret missing out on, don't forget that there are millions of other people out there who missed out on it too, and don't give a hoot in the slightest. That's apathy, honed to perfection, for you. posted by Charlotte | 4:47 pm (0) comments Thursday, May 06, 2004 Poor working conditions? Perhaps I have the answer. Well, of course I ought to have the answer to my own problems with poor working conditions, because, well, if I don't figure it out, who will? The problem is, of course (as it always is, when attempting to address problems which inconvenience one's own self), my dear little sister's gaming jaunts over the computer every afternoon, after coming back from school, all the way until dinner time when my parents get home. You see, she doesn't play at night because my parents don't let her, because, well, the mid-year assessment is coming right up and little primary school children ought to be at the study table, poring over assessment books, rather than in front of computers playing games and being generally unproductive. And since she's in Primary Four, the dreaded year of streaming (for most parents, anyway), that's all the more reason to lay off making a fool of yourself and get back to work. Well, I disagree with the principle of studying and all that. I advertise myself as a mugger, but a 'mugger' in the sense that I'm always thinking about work and studies and academia, not in the sense that I would love nothing better than to spend days on end swotting some convenient tome of knowledge ... like a certain short-haired, goofy-smiling, bespectacled person currently on his way to Queens' College, Cambridge (Remember ... I'll always have a dagger for your back, my dear friend). My opinion is that if you actually need to spend time drilling information into your skull, you're either not serious enough, not smart enough, don't like the subject enough, or simply don't have anything better to do with your time. Academia is sublime ... it should seep into you, and possess you like the spectre of miscellaneous deceased researchers and scientists and literary figures of ages past. You shouldn't be having to recall things from memory, regurgitating them like a bacillium-infected excuse for a meal. Everything should be coming to you naturally with little or no effort on your part. Maybe it's because humanities subjects leave a little more leeway for elaborating, or faking. Maybe it's because I love my studies (in history, at least) with an intensity far unequalled in any other discipline. Maybe I'm smart ... *gag* ... or maybe I'm just lucky. But that formula has served me well ... I need not go into the difference in performance between my prelims and my A levels ... and I would like to expound it to everyone else, so that hopefully, people can stop forcing themselves onto books (literary rape?), trying to squeeze every last drop of information out of it, and instead think and talk like they know their subjects without having to summon facts from their memory in mid-speech ... or mid-thought. Assessment books and ten-year series' are but aids and examples, not the path in itself into improving one's results. What is needed is an understanding and a devotion to your studies. And a certain level of intelligence ... *raises eyebrows*. But I deviate, as usual. The gist of the matter is that I allow her to play games (after completing Tactics Ogre, she's on to Final Fantasy Tactics Advance) in the afternoon with the expectation, usually unfulfilled, that she spends adequate time on her studies in the evening, because I believe that denying yourself entertainment is not effective in improving concentration on your studies. And besides, I don't even like the drivel that my parents force her to do ... primary school assessment books ... have you seen anything more profoundly monotonous? Any kid needs relief from such sheer banality. But such belief is only based on that most popular fallacy which I admit I subscribe to ... if I can do it, so can anyone else, and if I can make use of what little time I have to achieve results, in the academic field, at least, so can my little sister whom I'm groomed and trained in my own image like any responsible (and seriously narcissistic) elder sister should do. Whether those aspirations of mine will eventually be fulfilled, however, is something that remains to be seen. And back to my original complaint, about a poor working environment. And why is this the case? Because, when my little sister is playing games in the afternoon, I am forced to watch an amazingly poor set of tactics in action, under horrendous weather conditions such as that humid tedium that fills the air every time it seems like it is about to rain ... but never does, usually driving me to sheer boredom. And by the time she leaves, that boredom and utter irritation at watching such a poor performance usually leads me to want to reassure myself of the existence of real effective strategy ... by demonstrating my own to myself. Basically, by playing. And conclusively, this cuts much of my energy left to do serious work, my enthusiasm and inspiration for it (due to alternately being depleted and distracted from it), and contributes to a rapidly worsening degree of eyesight. Thus I conclude that either I should do my work at the most effective time and under the ideal conditions, which would be at 11am under heavy but not stormy rains, or continue to contrive excuses to explain my continual failure to boost my authorial productivity. And it isn't really setting a good example when what my little sister sees, when she isn't playing computer games, is her darling elder sister playing computer games. You can't entirely blame others, after all ... though you can try. posted by Charlotte | 4:53 pm (0) comments Wednesday, May 05, 2004 - Incomplete - posted by Charlotte | 4:41 pm Tuesday, May 04, 2004 "Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering. And suffering is the path to the dark side." - Necron, Final Fantasy IX "What the hell?" - Mace Windu and Yoda, Star Wars Episode I, The Phantom Menace Mace Windu and Yoda proceed to charge up lightsabres and mercilessly slice Necron into little Necron ribbons, leaving Zidane and Garnet to pick up the pieces. A pity. He was funny, if only for a while, with all that 'I am nothing' rubbish. As Star Wars illustrated above, hate leads to suffering, and since I just discussed hate, it's time to make you suffer. No, really, because, to conclude this series of rather meaningless rambling, I shall present true nausea by simply jotting down random facts about myself which I think might be helpful for you to know, and since this section lacks a title, it should also lack a blurb. I begin now, the last in the series of self-obsessed blathering, a general pandemonium of well and utter mayhem which may well be good for you to know, but not for you to stomach. A Chaotic Cognisance of Charlotte. Commence! EDIT : Well, maybe not. I'd like to stick a real, huge, massive, bloated and sickeningly obese mission/proposition/job -FAILED- here, because despite mulling over it for two days, random scribbling of blatantly useless (but true, at least) facts seemed far too averse to my liking. Not that I wouldn't want to read it (since I enjoy reading things like trivia, jokes, short stories, forum replies, etc. which are jumbled-up nonsense) but I wouldn't want to go back on it. And if I wouldn't dare to go back on it, I wouldn't write it, because that simply isn't a professional attitude ... despite the fact that I'm not even a professional yet. Besides, holding a jumble of facts in my head while I am struggling with rewriting and editing (it's coming, it is! I've halted my work here to do it!) isn't conducive to my working situation. There are many more useless things about Charlotte that could (but probably shouldn't) be known to the rest of the world, so if you've got a request, you can ask me personally and I'll give you a reply. An honest one. Honestly, I don't want to tell you. That's honest, isn't it? Honesty is my middle name. Charlotte "Honesty" Tan, as much as Mary Ann "Annother lousy pun?" Evans. Well, not really, it sounds daft ... as does taking on your husband's name. Well, seriously (really.seriously.) you can ask me whatever you wish, but in person, as much as is possible, and I can't guarantee I'll answer anything ("Hmm ... how many skin cells do you possess on your person?") but what I'll answer, I'll answer honestly. Really.honestly. P.S. To all Mary Ann "..." Evans fans out there, including dear old Mr. Purvis, I'm truly sorry at caving in to my irresistable urge to make fun of her every time I mention her name but I simply cannot tolerate specimens of our gender who would, for some absurd reason, take on the name of the other (not just the other ... but her husband's!) without the intention of being transsexual, and still claim to be an exhorter of feminism at the same time. Sure, you may say, that 'may' have been necessary in the decadent libertarianist Victorian era of the Whigs, but many other authors, oh say the Bronte sisters or Jane Austen, have shown that they can, if not stand independently, at least write independently. All because I despise the liberals does not mean I support the Tories. Look at Victoria. She was (technically) a Tory ... but she let those damned liberals have their way around parliament. And look at that Prince Charles wimp, extramarital affairs and all. Bill Clinton nearly got impeached for those. And see where Britain is now (*hint* Tony ... Blair ... *hint*)? No surprises Australia wants to dump the Queen as Head of State. posted by Charlotte | 4:55 pm (0) comments Monday, May 03, 2004 I hate it when this happens. You know, when you want some way to express all the hatred which has been mounting in you in a loud and explosive fashion but no matter what variation you try (including unleashing random destruction upon defenseless household items) it seems to have all been done before? Let me provide you with some examples. Miscellaneous Iraqi militant : "..." (left blank because I have no idea what an Iraqi might say), while stringing up the twisted corpse of some unlucky foreigner. Kefka, of Final Fantasy VI : "Da-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-ai Kirai!" English translation : "I hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate you!" Madame Mim, of The Sword in the Stone by Disney : "I hate, I hate, I hate, I hate, I hate, I hate, I hate, I hate, I hate, I hate, I hate, I hate, I hate, I hate, I hate ... etc." Well, I'm sure Madame Mim didn't say that so many times, but you should be understanding the idea by now. Anyway, she says it enough times in the show to add up to that sum, and probably exceeding it as well. Anyway, all this preamble about hating and stuff (in this time of great happiness and euphoria too, what a poor sport!) is merely a prelude to the second part of the previous babble about myself, because it looks rather strange to simply start off by saying ... - As continued, from the previous post ... "Admit that you have hate within you. Hate is something which cannot exist without love, just as darkness without light, coldness without warmth, evil without good, death without life. To love something any less is to hate them ever the more. To love something any more is to hate them ever the less. To love all things equally is to hate all things equally. Recognising that your heart is filled with hate is the first in the path to becoming a true warr ... um, never mind. It's just being honest, I guess." Let's start with the basics ... the kind which everyone has an excuse for having Most hated colour : Dark blue. Really dark blue ... darker than the ACS blue, which is about navy. The blue that is so dark, it looks almost black. For, many a time I have been diddled into thinking that something is black, when it's actually really, really dark blue, and obviously, I'm not too pleased about that. Seems petty, but isn't liking and hating colours rather petty in itself? Second comes olive green, and any lighter shades of green, just because I think it looks gross. Most detested number : Never gave much thought to this one, but I'm ambivalent toward other people's favourites, er, least favourites 13 and 6, because I'm not a Christian. And I like 6. Perhaps 4, or to be fair, 8, because it's not a square number (what reasoning ...). Most despised animal : Dogs. Because they keep yapping the whole day and night to annoy you endlessly. And they bite, which means that you can't just chase them away, as you do other domestic animals. And they need to be taken for walks, which means lots of canine excrement everywhere except where it belongs, which is on the front lawn and driveway of their imbecilic owners. And they are less intelligent than cats. Well, I guess they can be cute, if they're well-behaved, but those are few and far between, and probably very expensive as well. Most detested plant : For some reason, it happens to be lavender. The sight and smell of lavender-scented perfumes and creams and soaps makes me wrinkle up my nose in disgust. Why don't I hate the colour that lavender is portrayed as? Because many other, far more beautiful things in this world have a similar colour to lavender. Most abhorred letter of the alphabet : Never gave any thought to this one. You mean you did? Well, then you're even more daft than I am! Congratulations! Perhaps it should be C, because, well, you'll see ... *groan*. And I think E is overrated ... which idiot made it mandatory to use that letter in almost every sentence? It was not I who did such a thing. Most loathed compass direction : West! Because that's not where I live, and I hate having to go there ... even if it is to go to school. And those horrid Americans who act like they're the centre of the universe just happen to be located in the West, even though, technically, it would be quicker to travel east to reach them. However, just as love cannot exist without hate, without the west there would be no east, and the world would be two-dimensional ... or we would have to create a new west to fit the east. And besides, if you travelled east, it would be impossible to get back unless you travelled west ... or were willing to be another Phileas Fogg and circumvent the globe just to get back home. Most detested MRT station : Guess what, it's Lavender! Largely because of the name, but also because I have far too many bad experiences to be recounted there ... methinks the spirits which inhabit the station infuse me with evil luck every time I tread the tainted soil of that accursed place. Most hated food : Mushrooms. Because I have actually tasted them, and they drive me to regurgitate every time even the slightest speck has been slipped, deliberately or unwittingly, into the midst of my meal. Perhaps it comes from a traumatic childhood experience where I was force-fed mushrooms by an ignorant family, mushrooms, more specifically, those wrinkly fungi better known as Jews' Ears. Jews. Ears. Eek. I take it that whoever named that pernicious, pestilent parasite did not like it very much either. Some more controversial stuff. Because I can't talk about the movie or TV show or other aspect of pop culture that I hate the most, because I don't know anything about them. Or maybe I hate it altogether. It could be either way. Most loathed nationality : Oh, admit it! We're all racist, and, in my opinion, we're all entitled to be. If you think you can share your love for each aspect of mankind so freely, and you happen to be of a different race, I'd like you to meet me and watch me test your patience. What matters, however, is how we express our distaste for other aspects of mankind, by keeping them to ourselves (which is fine), by telling others (which is good, because that's being honest), by teasing and insulting the people you dislike (which is, technically, harmless, but the targets are entitled to respond in kind), or by going around killing people, wrecking their belongings, and enacting legislation biased against them (which is bad, and these people, including the large majority of politicians, ought to be punished very severely). And you already know which nationality I hate the most, anyway. The Americans, because they're far too libertarian for my liking, they're the propagators of the horrendous 'popular' culture which inundates the world, they're the natural enemies of the English (other than the French) as their rebellious former subjects, and they, or, more correctly, their leaders attempt to wield world politics to their benefit. Well, they're entitled to it, but then, we're also entitled to dislike them for it. Second comes the Israelis, largely because they shouldn't even be a nationality in the first place, displacing the legitimate citizens of Palestine, and their voice in the world, their military capability and their violations of human rights (not that I give a damn about human rights normally, but I'm nitpicking here) are sustained only by American sponsorship, but that's Hitler's fault for driving them out of Europe in the first place, so blame him. Stupid Hitler, if you didn't hate the Jews so much the Third Reich may well be ruling Europe. Most despised religion : And we hate religions as well! Religion has driven people to do many dangerous things, such as the Crusades, world terrorism, and ritual slaughter, and while we're all entitled to our own beliefs, we're also entitled to view the religions that seems to have wronged us the most with extreme distaste. Well, I haven't had myself or any possessions blown to pieces by crazed Muslim extremists on a jihad, so as far as I'm concerned I'm fairly ambivalent toward Islam. My grudge, however, is against Roman Catholicism, largely because I feel I've been wronged by my family members thanks to their evangelical beliefs, so filled with papal fervour that they're convinced in the utmost justification of their actions simply because they are the works of a believer, that God (why a man, huh? who started this chauvinism?) has shown them the true path in all matters. Well, terrorists believe that, too. Because I use reason, and not religion, to justify my actions, they are convinced I must be morally corrupt in some way (that is totally none of their fault, as morally-correct believers) and that their duty is to rope me back into the flock of followers. It's utterly disgusting when any attempt to work out a conflict with one's parents ends, within minutes, with the entreaty of "Why don't you come to church with us, and then you can see the light ... (and pick up some proper morals in the process)". Anyway, the religions I despise the next most are all the various sects of Christianity, too numerous to name, which aren't sponsored by any of the major groups, and are far more evangelical in their ways. Despite the fact that they share the same God, however, I'm fairly neutral toward Protestantism, largely because they're the opponents of Roman Catholicism. What would we do without Henry VIII! God save the Church of England and the Archbishop of Canterbury! But don't even think about retaking Ireland, because we don't need our intelligence diluted. Most abhorred sexuality : Note, sexuality in this case refers to stable, consensual relationships which thus naturally excludes several more distasteful things like paedophilia, necrophilia or bestiality. My distaste is for male homosexuality., because men are already disgusting enough doing what they do, what nature has apparently ordained, to us poor sufferers, and now you want to imagine them doing it to each other? It's not because I find the relationship unstable or unnatural, because these are arguments that are likely to be refuted by 'scientific evidence' and 'meticulous serveys' presented by various scientists, homosexual or not. It's plain, simple bias. I'm not saying that we should get rid of it, because hey, it keeps those beastly and perverse men off our backs (and onto their own fellow spawn's), I'm not even discouraging it. I'm simply saying that I don't like it, and I don't want to taint my already horribly polluted mind by thinking about it (which explains why I never had much fascination for shirtless yaoi). If you boys out there want to be homosexual, fine, but please don't tell me about it because it will forever cloud my opinion of you. And no, singling out male homosexuality doesn't mean that I endorse homosexuality among girls either. Besides, everyone who knows me probably knows I don't encourage bearing sexual desires, sexual preferences or, for that matter, sexuality of any kind. Our bodies are gardens, on which our wills are gardeners. Whereupon we sow hyssop, weed up thyme, whatever ... basically there are better things in life to do than to achieve physical pleasure, aren't there? It's all in the mind. Now that we've got over all the controversial stuff, which should add to your utter comtempt of me ... for exposing the rampant dishonesty filling all you unenlightened people over such matters, let's go on to the more light-hearted, less serious stuff, to take your mind off it ... and discourage you from flaming me through my already spam-clogged mailbox. Most hated cartoon : Johnny Quest. It's of the adventure genre, which I dislike in cartoons (for example, the Wild Thornberries) because it is overemphasises the capabilities of the supposedly ordinary character. I don't like cartoons where kids are overly empowered with abilities, that fail to (inevitably) backfire on them, and while these may seem to extend to superheroes, at least I understand that superhero cartoons have the full intention of passing off the protagonists as invincible juggernauts (with that one critical weakness!). Or that superheroes, at least mid-20th century comic book ones, are mentally shallow. Other cartoons that I really cannot stand are those running on Disney and Nickelodeon which were (and still are) being made in the generation of affirmative action, where cartoon writers are seemingly uneasy with casting an all-white, all-American cast of characters, and throw in that odd foreigner, that Asian or Black American, or that disabled wheelchair-bound quadriplegic, simply to make their cartoons stand out, the most significant offender here being the new episodes of the Rugrats which introduce an Asian character. The introduction of this minority usually leads to several plotlines being constructed around their differences and, far from propagating tolerance and acceptance, single out the foreign nature of this unlucky character. Of course, it would be impossible to have so many characters that minorities are proportionally represented by more than just individual characters, and I confess I would find it even weirder if there were, say, two Asians in a cast of otherwise white characters, as opposed to just one. Which is why I would prefer it if the cartoonists just kept all their characters as white Americans, or, better yet, set their cartoon in a totally warped plane (as most Cartoon Network cartoons are) where race and racial differences aren't significant any more. A last point is that I simply cannot stand cartoons which capitalise on the general idiocy of Americans, portraying a farcical depiction of the 'typical' American society, such as The Simpsons (an idea put into me by an American former neighbour, who was, and still is, a very nice guy, even if overly libertarian), or, horrors, Ed, Edd and Eddy. Because it's period humour, and it's just plain stupid, if funny. All this blather about cartoons should make up for the lack of elaboration under the Movie and TV show headings, does it not? Most despised Anime : Let's put it this way, I only know a significant amount of three anime, The Slayers, Ranma ? and Akazukin ChaCha, and I love them all. Pok?mon is not anime, as is everything made in the 1990s which has 'mon' in its title (everything before the 1990s is fine with me), so I can't put them here, though I hate them with a passion, though more due to the rampant Americanisation and proliferation of an otherwise ordinary Japanese cartoon. The concept of training monsters, or cars, or robots to battle each other is rather idiotic, too, because if those monsters, or cars, or robots had any sense they'd turn on their pitiful human masters and put them to the sword. Some of the jokes on the show are rather smart, though, and apart from the rather daft battles between monsters I do find it amusing. So there is no real conclusion to this heading, despite the massive elaboration. Doesn't that sound a lot like anything I write? Most loathed sport : Swimming. Because swimming, or at least the opportunity to swim casually, gives people a convenient excuse to strip down to the bare necessities of clothing, even though often they barely touch the water itself, and being the prude I am, I don't like that. Perhaps it would be more accurate for me to call it 'sunbathing', but sunbathing isn't a sport. Because true professional swimmers often wear full-body swimsuits, my argument here doesn't apply so with regards to professional sport, it would be, more precisely, synchronised swimming, because the 'costumes' (or lack thereof) are often part of the critical factor in synchronised swimming. Ice skating I only despise half as much, largely because I think the men dress fairly suitably, if not a little too flashily, during ice skating. The girls, on the other hand ... what, are they trying to imitate fairies, or more specifically, full-sized humans trying to squeeze into a fairy's outfit in those skimpy little frocks of theirs? And those obscene, revealing moves done in the rink ... fornication on ice, I call it. Well, not exactly fornication, but I never fail to exaggerate about everything I say. And ... aren't they cold? Third is rugby, for the simple reason that it's rough and muddy ... and I don't understand the rules. Most detested sporting team : Again, because I only know about football teams, all the teams here are football teams which I hate for some odd reason or another, and even so, not with a passion because I seriously don't know much about them, and I don't care to follow them closely, but reading the papers and seeing them lose always brings a smile to my face on an unpleasant day. I used to loathe Manchester United of England, but that was in their 'glory days' where they kept winning the English title and lots of incredibly daft Singaporeans started supporting them simply because they didn't know any other team ("What team do you like?" "Manchester United." "Why?" "Because they win."). Now, Manchester United isn't so great, and there are many more teams out there to hate, so perhaps it would be more accurate for me to say, of the English teams, I hate that which is supported by the majority of Singaporeans at that point in time. More importantly, I hate VfB Stuttgart of Germany most of all, because they beat Lille three years ago in a UEFA cup match and I shall never forgive them for that, beating the only French team that I ever supported. I absolutely detest AC Milan from Italy, because I started off liking Inter-Milan, and that isn't going to change even though I later found out that AC is supposed to be the 'original' team of Milan (which is why they're often referred to as 'Milan', and Inter-Milan as 'Inter'). I'm ambivalent towards teams from France, Spain and the Netherlands (although I'd like Real Madrid to lose, because I'd like Valencia to win), Glasgow Rangers are the only significant challenge to Celtic in the Scottish league, and for some reason I dislike Galatasaray from Turkey ... because they often end up in the same qualifying group in the Champions League for teams that I support. That's all. All right, fine, let's be totally daft. Here goes. Most abhorred computer game : I'm referring to games that I own here, else I wouldn't be qualified to criticise them. The Sims. Because I can't understand why people would want to play a game which attempts to portray real life, apart from the thrill of making your characters do stupid things just for laughs. And it's actually successful in America and some other ignorant parts of the world. It is the game which spurred Maxis to success, and it's acquisition by Electronic Arts, which means no more new simulation games except nonsense like Simcity 4 which revolves ever the more around those twisted little vermin which inhabit (and inhibit) your simulations. Most loathed computer game character : Ugh. It is the name I dread to say even more than Voldemort (Voldemort! Voldemort! Voldemort!), you-know-who, Rinoa Heartilly from Final Fantasy VIII, who single-handedly ruined what would have been an incredibly promising game by turning dearest Squall Leonheart from a solitary, self-assured protagonist into a weeping, whimpering weakling who goes to bits over some imbecilic girl who does nothing more than whine and act cosy to attract his attention. You'd think that the ultimate comeuppance would be for him to reject her advances, but no ...! Why does he fall for it? Now he's forever doomed as stupid in my eyes, because of that horrible mistake he made. It was a great game, the Junction System, Triple Triad, Squall, Quistis, Zell, Irvine, Seifer, Laguna, Kiros, Ward, Fujin and Raijin, Biggs and Wedge, Cid "Robin Williams" Kramer, Balamb Garden, the Ragnarok ... everything! Everything that I enjoyed about FFVIII! All spoiled, undeniably, undoubtedly, indelibly. And the worst part is that it doesn't even look like Squall was tempted by her charms (which would be the mark of a skilled seductress), it looks like the scriptwriters simply did a U-turn and made Squall all suddenly obsessed about her. A disaster. Most despised book : Silas Marner by Mary Ann "Annimus" Evans and Hard Times by Charles "oh, all the poor little children" Dickens. Because I had to study them. May I have permission to add A Wrinkle in Time by Madeliene L'Engle as well? Because I found it the singularly most absurd and stupid piece of science fiction I've ever read that put me off appreciating science fiction for well over half a decade. Most abhorred play : Long Day's Journey into Night by Eugene "O'Ilovedmymotherandiblamemyfatherandbrother" O'Neill. Because I had to study it. Most detested poet : Anything by Seamus "shameless heiney" Heaney, but especially Fosterage and Exposure, because he's still alive. And also because I had to study them. And also because I have an anvil brain. Most hated person : You, for reading this. Whoops, did I say that? I meant to say ... um ... isn't that supposed to be an acknowledgement or something? Let's call it a typo, shall we? Um ... hehe ... *twiddles thumbs* ... let's move along now. posted by Charlotte | 4:27 pm (0) comments Sunday, May 02, 2004 Hello ... I'd like to say thank you to all the nice people who have posted their comments ... at last, and I'd like to ask them where they'd had been all this while. Mmm ... sniffle ... does anyone actually read whatever I write, or are they just dropping by because, oh, they just happened to recall that it's "Hitler's Death Day" and popped by to pass on a few words of condolences. Doesn't anyone have anything to say about whatever I write on average days? Well, at least give me a definite NO and that would be another line on the tagboard filled up ... sigh. Um, take that in jest. I appreciate your concern. Really. Notice that I never call it a happy birthday, largely for starters I haven't a clue what it is that makes people happy about getting older ... unless it means that you're allowed to drink alcohol, smoke tobacoo, and watch raunchy movies, but that's none of my concern. And actually craving for such depravities only proves your childishness, so perhaps it would be better that such people stay young to reflect their mental age. Ooh ... moralistic. Anyway, I shouldn't say all this because I confess to being partial to alcohol ... I don't mind the drinking part of it, but I can't be bothered to put in the effort for the buying part of it. Huh. Such humour proves that I'm a mental infant that ought to remain trapped in childish obscurity, but nature often defies logic, unfortunately. Anyway ... Part III : Peeves and Preferences "All right! In this section, we get to discuss all manner of minute details about Charlotte which so intrigue other people, what she likes and loves and what she absolutely can't stand or loathes with a horrible passion. You probably wouldn't know most of this, largely because either you can't be bothered to ask, or I can't be bothered to tell you, or there isn't much point in knowing all of this nonsense (it won't come up on Who Wants to be a Millionaire, so why bother?). However, since the internet and this convenient opportunity allow me to spill my blood without having to clean it up (a convenient analogy, no corpuscles were punctured in the making of this), perhaps this information may be of interest to you so that you don't have to ask, for the umpteenth time, 'Hey, Charlotte, what do you like/dislike about ...', etc.") What's your favourite? Colour : Originally red, because I'm full of a sanguine nature. Then I added violet, just because I felt like it. If those aren't choices, or I'm not looking for something bright or flashy, I'll pick white, then black, for example, I'd like white hair, or black hair, but I wouldn't want red or violet hair! For your information, pink and yellow are, well, okay with me ... I guess *gives queer stare whenever asked as to like/dislike of pink*. Number : 7. But everyone likes 7, for some reason. So I took 6 instead, because people always complain that there's never any good 6 available ... *lameness*! Anyway, 6 is my house number, and three 6s make the devil's number. And the truth is that I like 7 because phone numbers have 7 digits in it, or at least used to, in Singapore. Animal : Never gave any serious thought to this one, largely because I don't give much serious thoughts about animals. The cow, perhaps, since I'm all crazy about astrology and stuff? Moo! I'm partial to most aquatic animals, since my family keeps terrapins, and had several disastrous attempts at keeping fish. I don't mind most domestic (not necessarily domesticated) animals that can be found in pet shops, and not in places such as the zoo or the bird park, but, of course, there are the exceptions. Letter of the Alphabet : I can't say whether or not many people out there have given thought to their favourite letter of the alphabet, but for me, for some absurd reason it's V. An odd fact is that I can only think of two English names for boys that begin with V (victor, vincent), and I'm not likely to give any character in my writing those names for a long, long time. Compass direction : East! Because that's where I live, in the east! And it is our status that has been conferred on us, as the oriental people of the East, by those hyper-advanced Western people who plan all the maps and globes and such. Higashi o iku yo! Okay, stop this imbecility now. Food : Hmm ... I used to be a food-crazed ravisher, but paying serious attention to the degree of my consumption has merited me a small (but significant!) loss of weight and waistline. Despite my attempts to propogate the fallacy of aggregation, however, I do have favourite food. Occasions that are rare to come by, such as feeling wealthy to a certain degree, merit a fillet steak (medium done!) with black pepper sauce. On the normal day, such as the average weekend, I'll go for a bowl of beef or chicken ramen with plenty of chilli added (not much calories in spice, is there?), unfortunately, it seems only Halal-conscious Singaporeans add anything beyond char siew and gyoza to their ramen. A jaunt down to the local hawker centre will usually yield either shredded chicken noodles or roast chicken rice. And, when I'm feeling utterly crazy for some reason or another, I'd go down to Wildfire cafe at Oasis building in Kallang for a big bowl of Canadian poutine, that's fries, cheese and sauce for you. It's one to cherish. Movie : Don't put much thought into this one either, because, as most of you already know, I'm utterly out of touch (and deliberately so!) at what is often deemed as 'popular' culture. Does Monty Python and the Holy Grail count as a movie? If it does, then it gets my vote, because it is the most incredibly ridiculous (and funny) thing I have watched, even if it does lose its charm after the first few times. I also like the original Matrix, the 'sequels' being pale follow-ups to their original precursor ... or perhaps it's because we're jaded with the genre and the sequels don't have all the originality of the first. Interestingly enough, the movie I've watched the most times is Total Recall starring Arnold 'guv'' Schwarzenegger, despite it having a PG rating ... hmm ... TV Show : None, honestly. I don't watch any serials, or gameshows, or regular programmes of any kind. The news, perhaps? Or maybe Crime Watch? Anyway, if I do watch TV, I'm usually watching cartoons, which brings me to ... Cartoon : If we're talking about American cartoons here (and we are, because I'm going to write 'anime' later) then I would say I enjoy almost all 'original' cartoons by Cartoon Network, as in, those that are created by Cartoon Network studios and are not merely replays of former works by Warner Brothers or Hanna-Barbara, etc. Let's just do the run-off, the Powerpuff Girls, Dexter's Laboratory, Cow and Chicken (which I swear I have watched every single episode of at least once), Samurai Jack, as well as Grim and Evil. I would also watch if it was SpongeBob SquarePants or maybe the Rugrats (the original one, not the new episodes) from Nickelodeon. See, I had a lot to say about cartoons and barely anything about TV shows for grown-ups. Gives you insight into the degree of my mental development, does it not? Anime : Anime is Japanese, or at least based tremendously on Japanese culture, so there's no question of me having a favourite there. And it's right on this page! The Slayers! Yay ... *hugs all Slayers merchandise like a crazed sugar-charged little fangirl*! I'll buy merchandise if I support the genre to the extent that I'm willing to forward ever more money to it, and the enormous amount of Slayers stuff I've got should be a testament to that. Too bad I don't have a big plushy Filia cushion and a big plushy Xelloss cushion for her to hammer. I also own some Ranma ? music CDs, so that's what else I've paid for. And I'd add Akazukin ChaCha as well, but then that's basically saying all the anime that I've watched. Anime character : Filia Ul Copt, because she's right here, and if I didn't say so I would be receiving an extremely heavy and spiky mace in the head. No seriously, it is, because I wouldn't have invited her to grace this page if I didn't like her enough, would I? From the Slayers as well, Sylphiel Nels Lahda, and, significantly, the purple-haired trio of Rezo Graywords, Xelloss Metallium and Zelgadis Graywords (whom, similarly, all loathe each other). From Ranma ½, probably Hibiki Ryoga and Kuonji Ukyo (honestly, it sounds like a good pairing), and everyone's favourite bespectacled duck Mousse! And, just because I like Akazukin ChaCha, I'd say that my favourite characters are the governess-student pairing of Dorothy and Shiine ... because it is the protagonists with that deliciously evil streak that I always admire. Sport : Favourite sport? Look at me, I'm a physical wreck with a dodgy knee and a seemingly permanent twist in the tendons in my thigh. Not only that, I have high blood pressure, and physical exertion anywhere in the lower body brings on aches in minutes. Did I say I have pigeon toes as well? Probably a pigeon-brain too, but that's besides the point. It's all besides the point. My favourite sport, before I was so severely maimed while in the prime of my youth (thank you, sit-and-reach machine), was badminton, because in my opinion I was actually good at it. Good at a sport ... *senseless giggling*! Now the most sporty thing I can do is sit down in front of the television, and hope that football (or, for you stupid American louts, soccer) is on ESPN and not some other daft game whose rules I can't understand. Because, at least, I know the rules of football. Sporting team : Well, as you can probably guess, I'm not a feature in any sporting team, so there isn't a possibility of saying that I like 'my' team the most. And similarly, you could have inferred from the above that the only sport I know about is football, so if I support a team, it's a football team ... and not all that closely or ardently at that. The best I do, often, is smile on a rotten day if it happens that the team I support won. Again, the list. From England, Blackburn Rovers and Preston North End, from Germany, Bayern Munich, from Spain, Valencia, from Italy, Juventus and Inter-Milan, from France, Lille, from Scotland, Celtic, and from Holland, Exclesior Rotterdam (simply because I like the name). Music : As I already said, I don't listen to 'popular' music, not even J-pop (although I'd much rather have it over the radio than all that drivel in English), so I can't say that I like anything from there. While I do appreciate classical music, I'm often not too sure of the names of the pieces or their composers, so I do my best to avoid saying anything about them lest I betray my ignorance. I don't listen to classical music regularly, but from the little I know I'd say I most like to hear the third movement of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, what, allegro? Too bad I can't play anything sensible on the piano worth a darn. The music that I have the most exposure to would be that from anime and from games, which I often keep collections of (since I own the original, so I'm legally allowed to!). While I hold many favourites among my collection of anime songs (too long to list here), it's easier to single out my favourite music from games. Aria de Mezzo Caraterre from FFVI, and also Aeris' Theme from FFVII and the, um, Someone to Love theme from FFT, the one that plays at the introduction to Chapter IV of the game. That song, and to a slightly lesser extent the other two always bring a little weight to my eyes every time I hear them, let alone try to whisper them. Imagine how sad the introduction to Chapter IV would be, if only Ramza, Rafa and Malak, who speak at the time, could be phrased in proper English! Musical instrument : The voice, la, la, la ... largely because I'm inept at any other. But if the voice isn't counted, as the earlier contestants to the idle Americans' show American Idol have proven, then I would say the piano, largely because I like its use in classical, as well as game and anime music as opposed to more 'popular' instruments such as the electric guitar, the keyboard and the drum set. And I can actually play the piano ... a little! Whee! Game : Right, now game here refers to everything outside the computer, and outside the sporting field, too, basically, things like board games and card games, and maybe even word games and all those kampung games that primary school students are fond of playing. My favourite game would be Hearts, largely because I have some decent strategy at it and (as with everything I'm amazed about) I'm actually fairly good at it ... I think. I hope. At least I don't embarrass myself by snagging the Queen of Spades, and my point total is usually less than forty, though I never attempt to shoot the moon. I also enjoy playing Bridge, although the random craziness of floating Bridge detracts from a bit of the strategy of the actual game, and the difficulty of memorising all the conventions and orders of play for contract Bridge means that my presence at the playing table detracts from the likelihood of my partnership's success ... and the likelihood of me ever being invited to the table again. It seems that computer games have really taken the place of all other recreation, because I can't exactly pick out a favourite in any of the other areas. Does pencil and paper roleplaying in the form of Dungeons and Dragons count? Because I'd like to play it, but unfortunately I've never had an opportunity. Computer game : While I did have many favourites in the past it seems (for now, at least) that all my loves have been but for a fleeting moment, with my belated discovery of the Final Fantasy genre. I love, absolutely adore Final Fantasy VI and Final Fantasy Tactics, which incidentally happen to be the games of that genre which I've completed the most times, four, and that's also more than many games of other genres. The only thing that prevents me from saying that I prefer one of them over the other would be the fact that they're different kinds of games, roleplaying and turn-based strategy, and it's difficult for me to choose one over the other. Other series' of games which I have in my possession are the Warcraft series (I,II, Beyond the Dark Portal, III, The Frozen Throne ... and StarCraft and Brood Wars, since it's the same type of game), the Command and Conquer series (I, Covert Operations, Red Alert, Counterstrike, Aftermath, Tiberian Sun, Firestorm, Red Alert 2, Yuri's Revenge, Generals), the Diablo series (I, Hellfire, II, Lord of Destruction), the Worms series (II, Worms Armageddon, Worms World Party) the Heroes of Might and Magic series (III, Armageddon's Blade, The Shadow of Death, IV, Winds of War) and the Neverwinter Nights series (I, Shadows of Undrentide, Hordes of the Underdark). I also enjoy the Monkey Island series, of which I've played (and won, of course!) all four, and I'm still waiting for the final installment in Guybrush Threepwood's unbreakable five-game contract. And of special mention is Nox, the only game which I've ever played in a competition (nyah! take that! trashed by a maniacally laughing sugar-loaded girl!) and won the first prize of a trip to Bangkok for two in the process (I gave it to my uncle, who needed a honeymoon destination n_n), and it's the only game that I can play in multiplayer with any sort of ferocity (and, consequently, success!) along with the Worms series. Bleaurgh ... see how all my entertainment comes on the computer. And people wonder why I don't go out much. Game character : You can flip back into my archives for the answer to this one. From FFVI, Sabin Rene and Edgar Roni Figaro, because I love sibling tag-teams to death. Too bad that doesn't mean that I absolutely love Rafa and Malak from FFT ... in fact, they're incompatible with each other, so much for cooperation of any kind. The cast of FFT is so fantastic that I cannot yet pick out a favourite, so as a neutral pick I'll choose the Time Mage, because she looks nice and decent, and packs a lot of power! And she has a spell called 'Don't Move'! 'Don't Move', of all things! Book : Anything that I write. Because I write about what I would like to read the most. Oh, all right (write?), fine. William Shakespeare, but you didn't need me to tell you that. ... to be continued? posted by Charlotte | 4:54 pm (0) comments Disclaimer : The Slayers and Filia Ul Copt and all images thereof are the property of Hajime Kanzaka and Rui Araizumi. I don't own any of them, although if I had a choice I would want Filia ... ~//n_n\\7 |
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