There is a possibility that you feel that way because your reflection isn't like the ideal that looks down at you from the billboard. You're not fair enough, your hair isn't straight/curly/thick enough, your flabby gut is laughably far away from the six-pack ideal, your boobs too small/big and so on and so forth.
But the truth is, even the models don't look like themselves. Cindy Crawford, the it girl of the nineties, was quoted to say, "I wish I looked like Cindy Crawford." She cheerfully acknowledgeD that her pictures were airbrushed to make her skin pore-less, her legs longer, her waist slimmer etc etc etc. All the pictures of celebrities and advertisement these days are photoshopped within an inch of its life. So if you are looking at those images for what is an ideal appearance, forget it. It is all LIES! LIES! LIES!
It is about time that we love ourselves for what we really are. Tall, short, thin, fat, flat, curvaceous, dark-skinned, light-skinned; those doesn't matter as much as the kindness in your heart and the love you extend to others.
I think the provision in Islam (and many other religions) to dress modestly is sound. When you dress in a way that does not emphasise on your appearance, you take your looks out of the equation. Then you will be judged not on how you look; but rather on your personality and abilities. Isn't that liberating? No more worrying about shaving your legs, or whether you have cankles or that you are bloated because your period is around the corner and you have muffin-top.
Unless of course, you are facing an idiot who firmly believes that covering your hair means you support terrorism.
I think it is time that we stop questioning what Muslim women choose to wear. Whether she wears the head scarf, or face veil or a string bikini, IT IS HER CHOICE, OKAY?
Why is it a choice? Because that is God's gift and grace to us.
But are we naive in thinking that the Internet is so powerful?
The Internet is value neutral; but like a sword, the wielder can both cut and also BE cut. It can be used as a tool by the activists; but by the same coin, the authorities working to stamp out dissidence can also use it to track, identify and contravene the efforts of the activists.
But as Evgeny Morozov pointed out, when the Internet is primarily used to download bootleg entertainment material (all right, porn, dammit) and to tell/troll your friends of your "noteworthy" activities, the likelihood of the "democratic change" extolled by the cyber-utopians are about as real as the Farmville corn you harvest.
Plagiarism in academic circles are considered as one of the highest blasphemy (just below falsifying data). Used to be this is about not acknowledging information sources but the "Ctrl+C" and "Ctrl+V" function in most writing softwares has extended the odd quotes to large swathes of work lifted ad verbatim from the original source (with/without attribution).
It is not acceptable behaviour.
Anyone teaching at an institution of higher learning will tell you that "copy-paste" term papers are pretty par for the course. The students claim that they are overworked, don't quite understand what is the objective of the paper (and hence stuffed everything possible in it in hopes to garner some mercy points) and all kinds of excuses ("I didn't have time to do the paper properly since my cat died and I'm in mourning." is my personal favourite) to justify their action.
Identifying plagiarised paper of most student is actually pretty easy; just look for islands of flawless sentences in a sea of awkwardly written prose or perfect English sentences from students who could barely identify themselves in said language. Softwares like turnitin makes proving academic dishonesty that much easier.
No, it was not Twilight. Nor did it feature any of the usual monsters of the week hunted by the Winchesterbrothers *dreamy eyes* (even though reading it may scare the crap out of Dean).
Did not feature these darlings.
Eric Schlosser wrote a frank and engaging examination of one of the biggest icons of Americana: Fast Food. Its history unfolds in early 20th century and helped produce some of the biggest self made men in the US, the perfect embodiment of the American dream.
This book exposed the nightmarish side to these success stories. From unfair business practices that ruins small businesses, fatal food contamination, hideous and slave-like working conditions, to the globalisation of obesity via fast food and even exploitation of children through advertisement, Schlosser exposed any number of issues that we do not think about when we unwrapped our burgers. Although most of the companies featured in the book refused to officially cooperate in his research, Schlosser was able to persuade a number of the employees of those companies to speak to him; giving him first hand accounts of what lay behind the shiny facade of the big corporations that made the fast food machinery what it is.
Naturally the corporations featured in the book did not take it lying downand fought back with threats of lawsuits and such. Boldly, Schlosser invited them to conduct fact checking and prove any of the allegations in his book as untrue. Although there was much blustering and threats, none of the corporations named in the book took legal action against him. Instead, they launched an online campaign that petered out like a deflated balloon.
What I find most interesting in the book is that even though the successes of the individuals that built these giant corporations underscore the possibilities promised by the American Dream, it came at the expense of the iconic Western cowboys and the freedom promised in the frontiers. As small and medium sized ranches disappear to the pressures of economy, it also diminished the mythical tough men of the West: suicide rate of the American cattle ranchers and farmers are three times the average in the country (refer to page 146). The legendary West featured in films and dime novels are now lost in the mist of history.
Books like Fast Food Nation makes one pause and contemplate one's decisions over things that were previously taken for granted. I don't think a reader of the book would immediately swear off McDonalds and KFC. But perhaps you would scrutinise the fine print even more after reading this. After all, caveat emptor.
Like Dean Winchester often said; it is people who are the worst monsters, not the demons and ghouls and beasties that stalk in the night.
Social networking has become so widespread, even your grandma has an account. But the protocol for friending and de-friending continues to be a social minefield that can blow up in your face and cripple you for life.
For example:
Forever alone. :'((
So how do you navigate something like: Do you friend you parents on Facebook?
Someone made a flow diagram of it.
To friend, or not to friend. That is the question.
Today, 4 members of my family are making their way to Mecca for the hajj pilgrimage. For those who are unfamiliar, the hajj is a once-in-a-lifetime pilgrimage that every Muslim who can afford it is obligated to undertake between the 8th to the 12th of Zulhijjah (the last month of the Islamic lunar calendar).
Not very many young Muslims think about going for hajj; to them, it is only something to contemplate when they are past forty. Heck, I myself am only thinking of the pilgrimage in abstract, academic terms. I only know that I want to go any season but summer (cos it's hot as heck in Saudi in summer, yo).
From what I've heard from those who had gone for it, it is a physically and mentally challenging journey but most rewarding spiritually. But I really love what this guy have to say about going for the hajj.
Good journey, my dears. May your hajj be mabrukh!
Friday, November 5, 2010
Now *this* is the kind of politician I want ... back when I was an angsty, anarchic teenager.
Petri dish cookies inspired by Escherichia coli streaked on a nutrient agar. No complaining of the streaking technique; icing is a lot harder to work with than broth-and-inoculating loop.
Exploding brain + popped out eyes FTW!
Gingerbread men in aqua containment / clean room suits are so adorable. They look paranoid, though.
Zebrafish makes for an awesome haematopoiesis model because they are practically transparent during the juvenile stage (or so I'm told). Edible glitter simulates the translucence beautifully.
Atomic cookie + nucleus (proton + neutron+ electron represented yo!). Gorgeous and delicious.
Gingerbread scientists are so adorable and edible!
What's a laboratory without beakers, test tubes & Erlenmeyer flasks?
Drosophila melanogaster, the humble household fruit fly, has been the workhorse of genetics for decades.
Who says that scientific people are boring and not creative?
Kurt Vonnegut is one of those lauded authors whose books I am not tempted to seek. But if the graphs below were what he used to teach literature, man, what would I give to audit that class. *props chin in admiration*
The story arc of a romance novel. Tried and true trope it may be, but romance is still one of the largest and most profitable genre of the publication industry.
Staggered build up of this nature is usually pleasing to the readers of fairytales. Cynics would say that fairytales fall under the romance genre; however, the truth is that readers of the romance genre are generally discerning and clever. We may like the happy ending guarantee, but there has to be a plot that makes us keep flipping the page.
If you are into nihilistic, post modern literature (IDEK what that means), this is the story arc you get. By the end of the book, you would either be insensate from alcohol imbibement to dull the existential pain or bleeding out into your bathtub/on your bed/some random surface from the neat, parallel cuts on your inner forearm.
Ah, Hamlet. Did he get justice for his father? Were all his sacrifice worth it? If you want to know what Vonnegut thought of Hamlet and Shakespeare's writing skills go to the site whence I ganked these graphs (which would be here).
In this part of the world, there is little mention about how casual Fridays are getting out of hand. Personally, I love it when the gents dress with circumspection; i.e. to suit the occasion.
Don't get me wrong; I do enjoy men in their comfy casuals like slouchy t-shirts and jeans / footie jersey and cargoes, but there's something about a well turned out man that just makes one's mouth water.
It used to be a rite of passage for a guy to get the first pair of suit bespoke by a tailor introduced to him by his father. However, as casual fashion becomes more and more pervasive, this is a lore that one only read in books of the silverspoon genre. More and more workplace tolerate dressy casuals and suits become something that is relegated to either rarefied circles or tolerated for weddings/funerals/etc.
I think one of the reasons why Arthur of Inception received a great deal of attention in fandom is because of the way he dressed. Who would have expected a sombre looking guy in a three-piece suit to be kickin' ass and taking name in such style?
Observe:
He brought back the panache that was embodied by Sean Connery when he was James Bond; a man in a sharp suit armed with a rapier mind, ambiguous moral code and laser honed reactions. A capacity for violence masked by the veneer of civility lent by the suit is incredibly alluring and seductive (but only when directed against the bad guys, of course).
But that's a fictional character, you gentlemen may say. What about an ordinary Joe who doesn't have a personal trainer to keep his waistline trim or the funds for a bespoke wardrobe?
Well, a man doesn't need licence to kill to be a lady killer, you know. For the formal occasions, look for a well-fitting suit (you may need to alter off-the-rack acquisitions) in a style and colour that flatters you (navy is a safe bet for all skin tone). Team them with cotton shirts in hues that enhances your complexion and a natty tie (matching, naturallement); learn to accessorise with cuff links or even pocket squares. Polish your shoes. Buy socks that is NOT white. Experiment with what looks best for you.
But what about the physical constraints and discomfort of wearing suits in equatorial weather? It may surprise you but there *are* fabrics for tropical weather suits. Cotton, linen suits can be very dashing and are lightweight to accommodate high temperatures (but not humidity). There are also summer-weight wool blends that can work beautifully in tropical latitudes. You *do* have options.
For those who don't wish to look like a mindless corporate drone, why not add your own personal signature to your style? If you need ideas, visit The Sartorialist; he documents ordinary people with extraordinary style with his fabulous photographs.
Traditional dress like baju melayu and kurta can also be incredibly flattering. I recall fondly the guys participating in bara'an (Javanese tradition of visiting house-to-house in a large group to sing praises to the Prophet Muhammad PBUH during the first few days of Eid-ul-Fitr to bring blessings to the host) decked in their Hari Raya finery of baju melayu complete with songkok and kain sampin. No matter what colour of material they chose, or the body it draped, the ensemble brings out the best in them: emphasising the breadth of the shoulders, minimising the portness of the tummy and even giving height to the vertically challenged ones.
Therefore, gentlemen, do take due consideration when selecting your garments. Because we love to appreciate you at your best. That's not saying that we don't appreciate you when you want to get down and comfortable, we are just saying that a little pride in your appearance goes a long way.
In praise of well dressed men, here is Barney Stinson serenading his true love in life: his sartorial elegance.
Ganked from manticore's FB update, thank you very much.
I was flipping channels one night and had the poor chance to watch the "Telephone" video clip, courtesy of MTV Asia. Like an insect caught in amber, I was paralysed and unable to change the channel; hence my watching it in its entirety.
I have known that Lady Gaga isn't a believer of titillation; rather, she courts outright revulsion, but seriously, that video clip is about as sexy as pornography.
*shudder*
I wish I had seen this video right after I had seen that mental rape of a video. Now *this* video embodies sexiness in a textured and visually delectable manner. Oh, it also helps that the deliciously sinister Mr Eric Roberts is featured in it *bites lip*.
