Comfortable echo chamber

I'm listening to Jeff Buckley's Grace for the 8th or maybe 12th time today. For some reason, his eponymous hit never really hit my radar as a teen except for his cover of Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah.

The chords of the opening trills are distinctive of songs written and produced in the 90's. His varying octaves flowed effortlessly as he sketched a tale of farewell. His enunciation leaves much to be desired, but there's no mistaking the visceral passion that passes on through the vibrating sound waves.

How magical it is that sound can still touch your soul even after the emanator is long dead and gone.

Grace's melody triggered reminiscence of my teenage years. It was a time when I lived comfortably inside my head, with no urges to spill my latest thoughts and ideas across social media. I never even had a proper diary. I sometimes wonder why I'm compulsively sharing ideas and information as I do now, when I once was quite happy keeping them all to myself.

My head is a comfortable echo chamber that filtered intense emotions through books and music. It is powerful protective mechanism; perhaps one of the reasons I have been accused of being dispassionate and untouched by base emotions. The echo chamber made distancing myself from things that can hurt me reflexive.

But this comfortable echo chamber has another side effect: it made me more empathetic.

It's hard to hold on a good grudge when you can pretty much put yourself in your antagonists' shoes and understand that their lashing out at you isn't personal but rather driven by feelings of rage, impotency and fear caused by someone or something else.

I'll still look on it as a blessing.

"Grace"
by Jeff Buckley

There's the moon asking to stay
Long enough for the clouds to fly me away
Well it's my time coming, I'm not afraid to die
My fading voice sings of love,
But she cries to the clicking of time
Of time

Wait in the fire...

And she weeps on my arm
Walking to the bright lights in sorrow
Oh drink a bit of wine we both might go tomorrow
Oh my love
And the rain is falling and i believe
My time has come
It reminds me of the pain
I might leave
Leave behind

Wait in the fire...

And I feel them drown my name
So easy to know and forget with this kiss
I'm not afraid to go but it goes so slow

First posted on Cowbird.

Mellow yellow

It's Ramadan. No eating candy in daytime (for those observing it) but no one said anything about ear candy, right?

For those who like psychedelic, Beatlesque groove, have a try.



Wondering what on Earth did you just watched? Get some explanation here.

I've got a thing for Julian Lennon since this song came out when I was in high school. Evocative, mellow, heart rending.



Enjoy.

Let there be laughter (Caution: NSFW)

People often say women don't like physical comedy. We don't get the appeal of The Three Stooges. We can't understand why bashing your friend with the nearest object is funny.

But this? I'll bet many ladies (and some men) will love this too.



Now to write an ode to those magnificent thighs.

*scurries off*

What's it take to be a man?

Apparently it's harder than it looks.



Forget landscaping. It's time to manscape!

However, gentlemen, before you start being depressed about having to look like a Jersey Shore reject, take heart.



Word, sistah.

You don't have to keep your hands to yourself

This song always makes me smile with its easy honky tonk rhythm, bringing to mind a smoky Western bar with ladies in painted on jeans and big hair and wild make up line dancing to it with men in ten gallon hats. But the deeper message of the song is not that light hearted. Basically it was about a guy who wants a little lovin' without payin', if you catch my drift.

Now, the gents may think that the lady was being a little hard on him, insisting on a wedding ring before engaging in intimacies. But many men don't appreciate that it is always the woman who is left holding the bag, or more likely, the baby. Many denigrate the pro choice team for being "baby killers" but how do you resolve the problem of unwanted pregnancies (whether within a marriage or without)? Women can lose their jobs for getting pregnant. Often they have little to no support to help them either financially, materially or emotionally to have children, even worse for those who have no partner to help shoulder the burden.



I love how this song speaks about the hard choices a woman have to make, often without support because of a mistake or even rape.

For so long the discussion about unwanted pregnancy focuses on women; how they should be more modest, don't tempt men, keep their knees together, and not have sex with men who are not their husbands (like men only have sex with their wives, hah!) and so on and so forth. Because women are the one who will get pregnant, it seems like the onus is only on them to make sure it doesn't happen.

But may I point out, gentlemen, that it takes two to tango?

Why not make it easy on the lady (or ladies, if you fancy yourself a player) in your life and partake on the amazing discovery by Prof. Sujoy K Guha and get yourself RISUG? The procedure doesn't take any longer than your visit to the dentist and you only have to get it once every ten years. Think of how much you can save on condoms! Besides which, condoms do have a failure rate of up to fifteen percent and some men are allergic to latex (you DO NOT WANT rashes on your precious dangly bits or the need to carry EpiPen to ensure the post-coital panting isn't anaphylactic reaction).

So take responsibility for your sexuality, gentlemen and do the right thing! Do it even if your DNA is super amazing and demands propagation! Unless, of course, you wanna be pickin' up the child support cheque. In which case, by all means go forth and multiply.

Note: If you are in the habit of bed hopping, then you need to use condoms (latex or polyurethane) to ensure that the bodily fluids you share ain't gonna carry nasty critters to your partners (or you acquiring said nasty critters). It's kinda awkward having to ring up a bed partner three weeks later to inform her that she may need to pay a visit to the friendly neighbourhood STD physician, you know?

Sisterhood, yo

It's the International Women's Day today!

 

We made grands strides in less than a century. Women can now vote, get an education (though many places still frown on educating the females), get a job, smash through the glass ceiling and CHOOSE to stay at home and raise their babies (it used to be terpaksa-rela or it-really-ain't-a-choice-sugar). It's good to be a woman in this age because we live longer and are less likely to die in childbirth (unless you live in Afghanistan, Chad or something). And we have more opportunities than our grandmothers and great grandmothers, and all this changes over a mere two generations (barely three weeks if you are a fruit fly), at least for the women in Malaysia.

But we are still crippled by body image issues; trading corsets (yes, in Asia, we wore bengkung) for anorexia, the white ones burn themselves in the sun or in salons, the darker ones peel their skin with harmful chemicals to become fairer. We still earn less than men while working twice as hard, still get stuck with more household chores than our partner (maybe not an issue for lesbian couples, *LOL*), and we are expected to remain a virgin on our wedding nights when the men get approving thumps on their back for being a lothario. Our days off are not necessarily days off like a man would describe it and in fair weather or foul, the expectations on us don't change.

We are still not in control of the decisions to be made on our body. In the US, the Congressional hearing on contraception was a panel of men; so yeah, they know so well about a woman's reality about birth control and abortion *rolls eyes*. Did they not think that supporting the former means reducing the need for the latter? What with global warming and the stress of accommodating the needs of a burgeoning world population, having children in a more judicious manner is only logical.

Our clothes remain a hot topic for everyone, whether one wears too much or too little. Frankly, I believe that a woman has a right to choose whether she wants to wear a bikini or a burqa. Women's clothing has been an issue of contention at political and social level, as though the what we wear is the fabric of the society. Face it: the real major causes of social ills are poverty, lack of access to education and opportunity, lack of respect and empathy to fellow humans (and non-humans) as well as greed.
NOTHING TO DO WITH WHAT WE WEAR OR DON'T WEAR.

A few historians and sociologists remarked that civilisations begin to decline when the society begin to segregate women from the rest of society (reference here and Fatima Mernissi's wonderful books Women and Islam: an Historical and Theological Inquiry as well as Islam and Democracy: Fear of the Modern World).  In an attempt to attain purity, maintain "honour" and satisfy false masculine pride, women are isolated from the rest of society, denied rights of basic citizenship (e.g. their children not given citizenship status if their partner are foreigners) and denigrated as a human being (i.e. when violence against women is condoned by the society).

Women still don't get much respect: we get blamed when we get raped, we are the first to be economically marginalised when the country's financial system experience a meltdown, women's worthiness are still judged  by their youth and looks and in any social crisis, women are among the first and most consistent victims.



Hence, inasmuch as we made leaps and progress towards improving the lot of women in this world, there are still plenty that needs to be fixed. For some society, the progression is remarkable and heartening, for some, social conditioning and culture made change a lot harder. We must never lose faith, ladies, but rather continue to work towards evolving our world to a more just and harmonious place. Not just for women, but for everyone.

Be careful what you ask your Dad ...

... he might just tell you.



And your life will never be the same again. MWAHAHAHAHAH!

Eye candy!

Mmmm ... delicious start to the day.

Learning from nature

Apologetics arguing for certain types of behaviour tend to borrow from nature to justify whatever stand that they propose (e.g. homosexuality, bullying etc.).

Here's another example: domestic violence and divorce.

Happily ever after also elude arthropods, it seems.

Parenting

This picture explains a lot about the reasonings of your toddler.

You're welcome.

And if you ever castigated yourself for being a bad parent, stop that. There are worse parents out there, examplified by this video.

This is mega TAK SENONOH!

You have been warned. Seriously skirts Not Safe for Work-ness.

But the reason I wanted to share this video is because it examplifies how tolerance and accommodation of the needs of both partners can lead to a harmonious relationship.

I ... have no words ...

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Swing it!

For those who enjoy steampunk novels, here is the genre that would be the perfect soundtrack to your reading pleasure. Caravan Palace is a marvelous example of the melange that is electro swing. Big band sensibilities with electronica edginess, this genre is whimsical and magical with an underlying darkness like hidden teeth.





*is swinging away to the beat*

Relationship manifesto

(Un)healthy relationships ... if you are in one or are looking for one, this is the song for you.



I give you the delightful Emily Haines and DJ Tiesto. Lyrics can be found here.

What the ...?

It's Monday and I need some giggles.

Don't you?

Oh, Freddy. I miss you. There is none currently who can match your talent or style. R.I.P, darling. *cries*

Happy Birthday, Carl Linnaeus!

Carolus Linnaeus made pigeon-holing and characterising animals and plants to an elevated science. In honour of his 300th birthday, a group of scientists in Sweden decided to throw a party to celebrate it. It took 3 years to organise (any wedding planner given this kind of time-line would run screaming into the night).

Have a look at the party here. It is super awesome.

Giving "The Talk" to kids ...

... is fraught with danger and rife with embarrassment. Being a superhero does not help.

Stolen from here.

Law and the tedium of being a superhero

As much as I enjoy watching movies featuring superhero characters, I do find myself sometimes taken out of the movies by details such as:

1. What happens if the court finds the killing of some supervillain by a superhero unlawful? Would that supe (say Batman) have to go to prison?

2. What if Tony Stark was taken down by the IRS and have his technology seized to pay back taxes?

Apparently, I am not the only who feel that way. There is a blog by two lawyers discussing these very issues.

Go on, have a look.

The quest for new authors to read (venturing into TL; DR territory)

As a reading addict, I am always looking for new authors to read. This is because unlike that woman in Misery, I don't have my favourite authors in chains at my beck and call. Some authors aim for 2-5 books a year (Yay!) and others may produce 1-2 books a year, or even 1 book per year or more. Now, I understand that writing a book is a long process and requires input from a great number of people from copy editors to test audience sometimes, but I need my habit fed, damn it.

Kitty needs to read too.

To help me through the dry periods, I try new authors. I mostly read romance and all the associated sub-genres, but I have branched into fantasy and plain old fantasy whether romance is an element or not. I stopped reading thrillers and mystery in my late teens; I don't like reading the monstrous things humans perpetrate on one another. But I don't mind if the flesh tearing is done by a monster monster, if you know what I mean.

Sometimes I get lucky in my journey to find new authors to read; this was how I discovered Elizabeth Vaughan, Simon R Greene, Patricia Briggs, Mark Del Franco and Carrie Vaughn. These authors not only crafted worlds that are wondrous and immersing, but peopled with characters that you can love and hate and enjoy their triumphs and defeats. I am a character-driven reader; if I enjoy the character, I would slog through the book (even if it is painfully written) to the very end. Plot? What plot? If I were finicky about plots, I wouldn't be reading Sherrilyn Kenyon, fabulous as her 'verses are. I read her for the tormented and snarky Zarek, I look forward to hearing more from the adorably demented Simi and sex-on-legs Acheron and of course, for her kick-ass heroines like Tabitha and Bride.

I have been reading Jenna Black's The Devil Inside. The premise sounded interesting: kick ass exorcist possessed by what she hated most and having to deal with the aftermath. However, I do not enjoy Morgan Kingsley; I find her judgmental-ness off-putting. Now you may say that it could be part of her journey since The Devil Inside is the first book of the series and I should give her a chance to develop. After all, I gave Rachel Morgan (protagonist of Kim Harrison's The Hollow series) a chance although she was whiny and stupidly impetuous in the first book and now I've devoured everything Kim Harrison. But somehow I cannot like the way she made snide comments about another character's lifestyle choices. Frankly, if BDSM gay sex floats your boat, so what? If you find it gross or whatever, why on earth do you need to tell that person that he/she is gross/demented/sick/whatever?

IT'S A CHOICE, GOD DAMN IT. RESPECT OTHER PEOPLE'S CHOICES.

If it is a mutual pursuit between two (or even more) consenting adult, what is it to you? And for her to suddenly feel ashamed at her own voyeuristic pleasure at watching two men having sex, WTF is that? If she felt that way because she is religious and thinks that homosexuality is a sin, I get it. But she isn't. And there was a (pseudo?) rape scene at the end of the book that was just plain nasty. I get that it is to move the plot along, but it wasn't done very well or perhaps I just didn't like the way it was executed. Yes, mileage may vary but I still loathe it.

Phew. I have not ranted about a book so much since I finished reading Pullman's His Dark Materials. That was the only book I have ever read that I threw against the wall, I was that angry.

Reading a book that inaugurate a series can be like watching the pilot of a new show. If you hate it, you won't bother watching the rest even if it got better (Vampire Diaries, anyone?). I have been spoiled by Simon R Green, Elizabeth Vaughan, and Patricia Briggs who write books that just made me pick up and run. And then chase all the subsequent books in the series. Then of course there is the issue when the show (or book series) had jumped the shark.  I still read Laurell K Hamilton's books even after many had claimed that she had moved into fan fiction territory (too much smut, too little plot). A lot of PWP, but I like the characters enough that I can live with the PWP (although I can name more than a dozen fan fiction writers who do EXCELLENT smut that is both hot and touching).


Seriously, trying out new authors can really be a gamble. But happily, when you win, you can really win big.

Don't be too hard on the youth today ...

... they can't help being what they are. If you are a GenX'er (or even a baby boomer) who is exasperated when dealing with a junior / student / whatever who belongs to the Generation Y, you are not alone.

Some have harshly dubbed the GenYs as the Dumbest Generation who believe everything they read on the Internet and are desperate for fame that they'd do the most hideous things to get the most hits on YouTube. Narcissistic and short-sighted, they are disdained as fame whores who have little understanding of privacy of self. They come across as figjams with a massive sense of self-entitlement. But is that really what they are or are we guilty of generalisation?

As a GenXer, one should be a little more understanding, coming from a tough sell generation that has been dubbed as cynical slackers with no real ambition or impact on the world. Yeah, no doubt you had moments of wanting to yank your hair out by the roots because the dumb intern refused to write a letter / e-mail without using gibberish texting acronyms (W U?!) but once upon a time someone else had bashed their head on the desk at the sight of you as well.

Frankly, I believe that the GenYers face a great deal more challenge than we did. They are bombarded with so many messages that rivals an ADHD with no Ritalin on a sugar high. Yes, they have the advantage of technology (home PC, laptops, highspeed Internet connection, mobile phones etc), but it also means more pressure for them to stay connected, to out-perform and to be the one to be noticed in a crowd. For those who lament that this generation do not know how to take care of themselves or do the simplest chores, remember that they are the generation raised by maids and had no other job except to study and go for tuition / dance / music / art classes.

GenYers are also under pressure to excel in a terrifying way. The pressure to take more than 10 subjects for their high school exam., to score all A's, to be the best athlete, the best performer, the best writer etc etc etc is something we never had to contend with. Granted that the SPM during our time was tough enough that getting 8 A's makes you the wunderkind of the district, sometimes even at state level. Since so many people are obtaining a gazillion of A's, university entrance become extremely competitive and they have to work ever so much harder to distinguish themselves from their peers.

We can afford a childhood rife with play time, exploring our neighbourhood with friends and generally just being a child. We had little fear of strangers and except for the odd, racist fear mongering of our elders ("If you are naughty, I will sell you to the cloth merchant Bengali!") we are relatively footloose and fancy free. We didn't worry about being bullied online (our bullies prefer being up close and personal), we didn't worry (overmuch) about passing the exams, we didn't worry about the environment that we were despoiling, we didn't worry on whether the economic cake was enough for us as well and ad nauseam the worries that plague kids born after 1990.

And many of us forget that the target of our rants are just a small percentage of the population of GenY. These are the privileged, middle to upper class kids who come from two income families. We forget those who slip between the cracks, the children of the urban poor (many who turn into Mat/Minah Rempit to spend their time or relieve the pressure they face) or the rural poor who struggles because they are not equipped to face the changing economy.

So let's not be an old fart and give the kids today a break.