It's fun sharing Wednesdays with a friend. Thank you to that person who did just that with me... even if she can't really hear the songs.
.:Quotes For The Day:.
Got this from Peppy...
"Does it get easier as you grow older, Sachi-sama?"
"Does what grow easier?"
"To love someone you can never be with?"
-Shiba Aikune and Isawa Sachi, l5r Friday Fic: Masters of Earth
.:Today's LSS:.
Nothing like Aiza Seguerra's singing to just emphasize my point about closure... heh. I might have an additional Aiza song in the near future, though...
by Aiza Seguerra
Alam kong hindi mo pansin
Narito lang ako
Naghihintay na mahalin
Umaasa kahit di man ngayon
Mapapansin mo rin
Mapapansin mo rin
Alam kong di mo makita
Narito lang ako
Hinihintay lagi kita
Umaasa kahit di man ngayon
Hahanapin mo rin Hahanapin din
Pagdating ng panahon
Baka ikaw rin at ako
Baka tibok ng puso ko'y
Maging tibok ng puso mo
Sana nga'y mangyari 'yon
Kahit di pa lang ngayon
Sana ay mahalin mo rin
Pagdating ng panahon
Alam kong hindi mo alam
Narito lang ako
Maghihintay kahit kailang
Nangangarap kahit di man ngayon
Mamahalin mo rin
Mamahalin mo rin
Di pa siguro bukas
Di pa rin ngayon
Malay mo balang araw
Dumating din iyon
.:Today's Pet Peeve:.
???: Hi! So where is this Christmas event in Eastwood?
Kel: In the central plaza, I believe.
???: Do you know who else is performing aside from Kitchie Nadal, Thor, Paolo Santos, Dice and K9, Barbie's Cradle, and Artstrong? (The freaking plug's contents! Who else is left to say?)
Kel: No, not really.
???: Are you serious? You're really a DJ there! (/sarcasm)
First of all, you little beeyatch, you really ought to learn about departments in WAVE.
There is such a thing as the events department, of which the DJ's aren't part of.
There is such a thing as a life that DJ's lead, which means they have better things to do than know every single Tom, Dick, and Harry that a plug has found too insignificant to mention in the lineup.
Malamang, kung hindi siya binanggit sa plug, hindi siya kasing matunog ni Kitchie o ni Thor o ni Paolo, di ba? Konting common sense naman po.
Merry Christmas to you, too, you annoying little bastich.
.:Not Much Yesterday:.
Yesterday was relatively non-happening, but boy, did I get tired...
I noticed Charles tallied all the essays he wrote over the past year, though. Maybe I should do that... if I can find all of them. I write way too often... heh.
Oh, well. Not much to say beyond that, really.
.:NBA Live:.
I finally installed the game on my PC, but I had to get a PS2 controller and a Double Dragon Adaptor to make sure I don't have any problems with a transition to the PC. It's all good, really. Needless to say, it certainly helps, although it's too bad that the controller refuses to configure with Diablo II...
.:Battle Royale:.
I shall review this film. I loved watching it, and disturbing as it was, it sure got me to thinking about a lot of things… particularly something I read about "even just men being no better than wicked men if they can get away with it" in Plato's Republic. It all ties in with the film, and I love it…
The next pieces in this post are still unrefined. I worked with pure gut feel while typing it out, so I didn't take the time to particularly make it as eloquent as I was hoping it to be.
.:The Magic 8-Ball:.
One thing I realized was that I coined an expression without knowing I did. I don't recall anyone using the expression "getting eight-balled" in the way I do.
But you see, there's a rather important story to be told when it comes to the Magic 8-Ball, and I can't help but feel compelled to have to talk about it for the most part.
The Magic 8-Ball is that nifty little toy most of us have had that helps us make decisions. We ask it a yes or no question, shake it a bit, and lo and behold, we get an answer off the bat. Magic 8-Balls are really useful for little else, and they certainly aren't human beings.
Or at least, more importantly, human beings shouldn't be Magic 8-Balls. But the whole point of this piece is to show that some people are.
I don't really like Magic 8-Balls much because more than anything else, it's so generic. It can dehumanize you and trivializes your say in the whole matter. Whether or not you take its advice, the Magic 8-Ball will dispense what it dispenses, independent of any input sans how you shake it. Besides that, you're just another person asking it just another yes or no question.
Magic 8-Balls are vicious when these Magic 8-Balls are people. These are the kind of people who treat other people generically. For them, one is as good as the other, and their conversations with you hinge on key words or phrases you feed them, which they somehow regurgitate into what on the surface may seem very personalized advice, yet is merely generated by how you "shake" this eight-balling person.
I find this sad, mainly because on top of the fact that you end up being practically dehumanized and deindividualized in this person's eyes, you are at the same time likely to be fooled that you're actually special. The most devastating human 8-balls are those who can actually delude you to thinking you mean something to them, yet end up disappointing you and hurting you in the end, and all you can blame is yourself because you fell for it.
Being rather heavily involved with Philosophy, I find this practice undeniably deplorable. The human being is not something that can merely be reduced to mere concepts, as the human being is an existent that takes part in the whole of existence. Existence as a whole is not something the conceptual mind is capable of fathoming. Wit this in mind, it is rather clear that reducing the human being is an injustice to his infinitude, and in treating him generically, in speaking to him generically, you end up denying him what he deserves: recognition of individuality.
Inasmuch as we cannot help but 8-ball people we don't know, it still bears underscoring that they are still people, regardless. Sadly, we seem to forget this, even when it comes to people whom we refer to as friends. Not recognizing the non-person is one thing, but when a person goes out of his way to do this or that to you, when a person makes a leap of faith and tells you something that he couldn't bring himself to tell anyone else, when that person is someone who is more than just a stranger to you, the least you could do is spare him the generic 8-balling.
I've seen it far too many times: the poor person who pours out his heart to someone whom he thought cares about him, only to be met with no more than generic, meaningless assurances that hold no water in the end. The next time you become a Magic 8-Ball to someone, ask yourself if that person deserves it. Ask yourself if any person deserves it, when you can actually help to do otherwise.
Get a clue: if you really are in no position to do anything for him, if you have nothing good to say, then don't say anything at all. The Magic 8-Ball is certainly not what he needs.
The Magic 8-Ball is certainly not what I need.
.:Closure Is Not In My Vocabulary:.
One thing Abby and a few of the people close to me know all too well about me is that I simply don't believe in the concept of closure. Closure is a word people I know of tend to throw around, and I particularly noticed this all the more during the times some people dear to me had to deal with some things that I'm not at liberty to divulge at the moment. Needless to say, closure is that panachea of a chance to move on because a chapter is closed, and it's time to go elsewhere.
Closure is that cure we blindly seek when we're hurting and we want to leave a part of our lives behind. Truth be told, the word has a nice ring to it. It seems to promise to us that we can wake up from a nightmare and somehow turn things around for ourselves. I don't really blame anyone for seeking out closure. I, personally, have ended up wishing for closure at some moments in my life.
Unfortunately, you have to realize that closure is an illusion in life. An old childhood song goes something along the lines of "never say never", and it rings true when it comes to things like this. Yes, of course people move on. I, however, feel that closure is a misnomer when we talk about moving on. I really feel that there is no such thing as closure until you're dead.
Martin Heidegger talks about the human being as an infinite openness, and how possibility is far greater than actuality. The human being, for as long as he is Being, simply cannot be locked out of possibilities, and closure is the denial of these possibilities. We've seen ourselves attempt to deny various things and end up eating our words. From people who deny the possibility of ever falling in love again, to people refusing to ever keep in touch with an ex, and so forth. I'm guilty of a one-track mind right now speaking mostly about closure with regard to relationships, but it's rather obvious there's more to it than just that.
Closure is not necessarily a bad thing, truth be told. It's just that it's not true. When you attempt to leave one chapter behind you, it is inevitable that it will still be there. Unlike snakes that leave their skin behind, we take everything with us. Baggage may have such a negative connotation, but it really is the case that we have baggage to deal with, indeed. It's a double-edged sword, and insofar as it really is that way, it still cannot be denied that it is there.
We cannot attempt to deny what is already not there to begin with. We can only attempt to deny that which we wish is not there. Fact of the matter is that closure is the attempt at denying baggage, yet it proves to be inextricable, after all has been said and done.
I really have no idea how else to go about this piece, really. For now, I'm merely throwing ideas around in hopes of perhaps making sense at one point or another.
Despite this quandary, it only proves my point: there is no definitive closure in this piece for so long as I happen to be around to edit it.
Sadly, while people cling onto closure as the panachea, I look to an "opening" as the solution.
.:Millionaire!!!:.
A Story Fragment by Marcelle T. Fabie, inspired by an Urban Legend I once heard...
"It's the final question, for a million dollars, Eugene. You have all three of your lifelines intact. What are you going to do?"
"Can I phone a friend?"
"Sure. Who're we calling?"
"My dad, Ernest."
"Okay. Here we go. Hello? Yes, good evening! May we speak to Ernest? This is Christoper de Leon of 'Who Wants To Be A Millionaire'!"
"Yes. This is Ernest. What can I do for you?"
"Your son, Eugene, is here right now, and he's already at the one million peso question. I'm giving you fifteen seconds to talk to him, and your time starts... now."
"Hi, Eugene!"
"Hi, dad! I'm going to be a millionaire. The answer is letter B, and that's my final answer."
The end
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