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, August 21, 2004 ... Sick. Stressed. ... This post shall not be deleted. There is much to say, only that ... I'm already downing heaps of pills on a consistent basis for my psychological troubles (now, why don't they give me sleeping pills, I wonder ...), the least thing I want is to add to that quantity. By inheriting some condition from an excessively virulent passer-by who happens to infect me with that most hateful gastric flu again. Which basically renders anything I eat in the 24 hours preceeding the onset of symptoms, and the next 24 hours thereafter, practically guaranteed to find its way to the bottom of the lavatory in a barely-digested form, with the aid of a liquid medium. The mode of delivery, however, I leave to your speculation, the only deliverance being recalling my flirtations with hunger striking and attempting to impose that same monastic discipline upon myself. Too miserable to go out to see the doctor, already knowing full well what is wrong with me (and bearing an adequate quantity of charcoal pills) I remained at home recuperating from more than usual, and am currently awaiting relief from that same bloated feeling which besets gluttons and braggarts alike. Consequently, physically aching from every fibre of my physical being, sore throughout all of my digestive system, I lay on my bed recuperating, and closing my eyes in lethargy I drifted off into unconsciousness. Unconscious of another significant event ... events which shook the nation. And it looks like the quality of all my ranting and rhetoric is turning from badder to worser to baddest to worsest. The most likely cause of it is me being too damn tired at 11pm and after to actually talk as little sense as is warranted. And I am tired because I just happen to get up early in the morning whether I want to or not, or even if I keep the odd really late night. Maybe to ensure that I'm rested each time I write, I should post at 11am instead. Huh. (P.S., Do not, for any reason, listen to depressing music if you have no intention whatsoever of becoming depressed. You will get depressed. If you are depressed and want to feel even more depressed by listening to depressing music, you will probably just fall asleep, so it's fine then.) posted by Charlotte | 4:48 pm (0) comments Friday, August 20, 2004 Most unusual tidings. Riding on a long bus journey through bottlenecked traffic today, and grimly observing the spectacle as played out on the TV Mobile screen home, I realised something very disturbing. For that matter, I was actually watching TV Mobile, an easily disturbed and, as a consequence, exceedingly disturbing piece of media. But that is besides the point. I have started watching the television again. Without the aid of a PlayStation console plugged into it. I have been watching television. And, what is more, I have actually been watching, and following, programmes which I originally expressed a desire to most fervently ignore, more specifically Singapore Idol and the Olympic Games. Was it that the temptation, the allure of such exaggerated and over-hyped happenings had taken its toll on my futile attempts to resist it? Possibly. But I much prefer to call it a simple change of opinion, except that unusually enough for me it is one encouraged by foreign stimulus rather than being self-induced. In short, I succumbed to the popular sentiment. Not that any of you would find any reason in resisting it, anyway. It's called 'popular' sentiment for a reason, in that most people subscribe to it, and if you so happen to tend away from it you are criticised by the ignorant masses (well, the ignorant messes) for being a deviationist and a blasphemer, and you're basically not in the know of what is foremost on the minds of aforementioned, perhaps not-so-ignorant masses. But that assumes the 'thing' in the know is of any actual value or worth to either the individual, the public, or society as a whole. In most instances, such as with regards to entertainment and mass media, it is largely useless. In this case, however, the 'knowledge' at stake has done more than to pique my interest, it is much more than merely deciding to finally jump on the bandwagon and subscribe to the popular perspectives. Firstly, you might like to know what an avowed enemy of all things pop and entertainment would be doing actually watching Singapore's own version of Pop Idol (Idiots! Interestingly enough, one of the world's least 'popular' countries, the United Kingdom, happened to come up with it). The cynical might see it as an exploration of how utterly devoid of talent Singapore happens to be in the musical field. A worthy objective, laughing at people with no talent. But the truth is that there are actually people out there who can sing, not just within reasonable means, but sing well. Or, more correctly, it depends on your view of just what constitutes good-sounding music. You know me, I would never laugh at the inferiority of people with regards to an attribute I am even further devoid of (discriminate against them as a whole, yes, but laugh at them, no), and, having already considered it, it is clear that I am already in the know of the latter. As such, I must profess that the true reason why I actually watch Singapore Idol would be to find out just who, in relatively untalented Singapore, would turn out to be the next popular artist. Not that I care much about the common notion of popular. But what of the Singaporean brand of it? Would Singaporeans have different tastes with regards to what constitutes the ideal music artist? Not merely in the musical aspect, but also in appearance, dress, carriage, attitude and demeanour, and so on. And why is it that the more successful of Singapore's already established performers tend to be more moderate, of a lower profile? Is that the ideal Singaporean artist? I certainly hope so, because I do not want to see more of the 'new' generation of ragged ruffians like JJ Lin, who dares show his unwashed face on the stage of the National Day Parade with shirt unbuttoned and tie (put on for the heck of it) untightened, who ought to be run through a spin-dryer. In the meantime, it waits to be seen whether or not the people who did sign up for Singapore Idol can actually sing as well on stage as they claim in the audition rounds in the previews. Who will be the next Singapore Idol? That's something I leave Gurmit Singh to say. I shall be watching. And it turns out that the guy with the bad curly hair and rotten sunglasses, who mostly repeats his fellow judges, happens to be Douglas Oliviera. Hmm. (EDIT) Olympics ... hmm, I had a lot to say. But I guess Singapore's Olympic dream for 2004 is over, so any comments or points made are moot. Mostly, I watched it in anticipation of what was going to come, but now that it looks like nothing will be heading Singapore's way, I'm still watching. Just because sometimes it's interesting to see how they count the score for different sports. Of course it's unfortunate and disappointing, but no degree of whining or crying is going to change anything for you or for the people halfway across the world in Europe, so one's only choice is to accept the way things have turned out. posted by Charlotte | 4:19 pm (0) comments Monday, August 16, 2004 As a result of my having been out of the loop for that last week, I would figure that everyone would be totally clueless as to what I have been doing, living out my life or dying my death ... not as if anyone knew or even cared in the first place. Nevertheless, being of the bubbly and effervercent and water-soluble sort, I've decided to put forward a small little update (in convenient point form!) as to what I'm doing right now. So that you know, saving you the trouble of installing spy cameras and hidden microphones about my room. I'd notice it, anyway, since I'm always there. Currently doing : In all productive sense of the word, nothing. Income, nil, expenditure, quite more than it takes to keep a near-adult healthy and sustained. Killing yourself in less painful (and nicotine and alcohol-free) ways is never cheap. Currently playing : Certainly not the piano. Because my computer is far too ancient for the latest PC games on the market, not that I'm even interested in them (or even know what they are) it seems too easy to guess that I resort to emulation. But I'm an honest player, at least I'm open about it and ... well ... no one has arrested me yet ... Anyway, I'm playing Fire Emblem for the GameBoy (wot? GameGirl? GameThingy?) Advance, and I most exhortingly decree that it is one game which incites excitement and interest far more than its apparently shoddy, pixellated appearance might suggest. I'd even go so far as to say that it ranks with Final Fantasy Tactics Advance (which, in my opinion, is far inferior to the original). So much that one day, when I get my own GameBoy Advance, it will be one of the first few cartridges I purchase/beg/borrow/steal. Currently reading : The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas. Yes, I loaned it out many times over but never actually flipped it open due to its size and the fact that I was running out of 'borrowed' time (hahaha...). But now that I've started reading, I'm glad I have, because it is seriously one of the most intriguing, and at the same time amusing and exciting novels at the first glance. Like when D'Artagnan challenges Athos to a duel at 12.15pm. And to duel Porthos at 1pm. And to duel Aramis at 2pm. Well, obviously I haven't got very far into it yet but by the time I eventually finish, I'll come up with an interesting book review that I shall put up to share the joys of literature with the rest of you sods out there. Currently watching : Singapore Idol. Fine, so I have never watched American Idol for anything more than two minutes at a stretch, and I don't know who won the first series, nor why the third series was so lousy. But I support Clay Aiken ... because I can't stand fat people who think they can sing. Anyway, the point is that its much more amusing watching not some weird whities in a foreign land making a fool of themselves, but rather the yellow and black people around you, watching their antics in the audition rounds they've screened so far, share in their jokes, laugh at their miseries, and occasionally savour someone who can actually sing. Most of all, what I'm interested in is to find out who in the whole of drab, dull Singapore can actually lift their voices and sound even remotely pleasing enough to get into the final round and gun for the trophy. My favourite judge is, by far, Ken Lim, because he's straightforward and doesn't joke around. Unlike Dick Lee and Florence Lian, who seem to say things just for the effect they create, and ... wotzisface who doesn't say anything. I'm glued. Currently eating : Well, I tried to starve myself to death quite a number of times, but a 'successful' hunger strike needs a great amount of non-preparation. In that you cannot say 'from now on, I'm not going to eat and stuff' because you'll probably stuff yourself up before you make that declaration. Recognising the error in my reasoning, I realised that it is pointless to practice starvation anything beyond the day's fast Muslims practice during Ramadan. The next time I'm severely depressed enough to warrant a sudden change of bodily habits ... when it comes, I shall be ready. Or, not ready, as the case may be. There you are. Remember, I'm always here, and open to questions (at my own discretion), so if there's anything you need just ask and if I'm not successfully dead at last or completely and utterly irked I'm sure I'll struggle up something for you. posted by Charlotte | 4:42 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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