Tank top days
Third day in a row with brilliant sunshine. Love
sunshine, blue sky, and jolly air – feel like going to the beach or exploring
round town taking photos. Whatever, just not stuck in windowless office blocks writing
stuff that’s humiliating to one’s intelligence.
Shock to learn that L’s handed in his
notice. I’ve always thought him the sort of guy who would never change
jobs. Even more shock to find out that he’s had got a scholarship to study in
A.Y. (darn! So many people with
initial A, think I have to start devising a new naming
system) still looks pretty much the same – still keep staring at me diffidently
over the dinner table. I mean if he remained as h/s as before I would have
liked him, but alas! That’s not the case. E’s practically a rattling nerd now,
really worried about him. BTW, the Thai food was yummy.
The wound in mouth starts to feel itchy now, good signs of
healing I hope.
There’s something I would like to quote from the de Botton book, but can’t find the page at the moment. Anyway, will sort out my thought later. Geez,
have been procrastinating my application stuff again.
Catching up
There’s much catching up for me to do since my last entry. This
negligence owes entirely to the turbulent days I’ve gone through. First it was
my wisdom teeth. By some dark forces at work I asked for all this pain, was it…
I don’t know. Now the teeth are gone and my face still swollen. LSL promised it
won’t last for more than a week, and it DID! At first it was like two golf
balls in the mouth, and then it became cookie monster stuffed with cookies; now
it looks as if I’m hit by my non-existent bad bf. Everybody agrees LSL should
be directly responsible for all this. But just found out LSL is in the
congregation, a point lessening his credibility and likeability – to me – but
still cute.
Good timing though, since it’s six days before the bloody
concert in which I would play a bloody imaginative piece in bloody City Hall.
At last got the chance to really sit down and practise ‘cos
no chance to get out at all in such intimidating look. Won’t help though,
piano’s crap, music’s crap, player’s crap, so naturally, the performance’s gonna be crap. And it turned out to be so, with me
re-composing over 70% of the piece. It was a nice experience though, got paid
for this crap.
T the emotional fuckwit called again, skipping from work, from
her bf’s doorstep, begging him to open the door, and
in a desperate rage of exasperation called a locksmith attempting to force her
way into the house. Honestly, I think there’s something wrong in her genes that
makes her inexplicable radical manners.
A’s in town, meeting up for dinner this evening. Really miss my
old friends. Everyone’s coming back, and I should really consider going away.
Cat and dogs, bats
and frogs
It’s raining cats and dogs this morning. Ever since the
beginning of June there hasn’t been a day without rain. Hell! I want to wear
something else beside my sandals. Finally done with the stupid EE project, on
with another one yet more mundane. Seems like A has discovered my talent in
making books and she’s stuffed my schedules with reader projects: circus,
extreme sports, and tsunami. Situation’s back to normal (at least as it appears
to be) after the scenario, keeping the status quo. Darn, try not to think about
that.
Really love the way Shakespeare put his words:
If you spend word for word with me, I shall make your wit bankrupt.
–
The Two
Gentlemen of
Brilliant! Will try to recite that next time I argue with
people.
Reading Wodehouse’s Ring For Jeeves,
if not for the space and a technical problem that concerns the provision of pen
and paper during commute read, I’d have quotes the full book. Here, however, is
an example:
Captain Biggar: Write me a cheque.
Bill passed a fevered hand through his hair.
‘How can I write you a cheque?’
Captain Biggar clicked his tongue,
impatient of his shilly-shallying.
‘You have a pen, have you not? And there is ink on the premises,
I imagine? You are a strong, able-bodied young fellow in full possession of the
use of your right hand, aren’t you? No paralysis? No rheumatism in the joints?
If,’ he went on, making a concession, ‘what is bothering you is that you have
run out of blotting paper, never mind, I’ll blow on it.’
Jeeves came to the rescue,
helping out the young master, who was still massaging the top of his head.
‘what his lordship is striving to express in words, sir, is that
while, as you rightly way, he is physically competent to write a cheque for
three thousand and five pounds two shillings and six pence, such a cheque, when
presented at your bank, would not be honoured.’
‘Exactly,’ said Bill, well pleased with his lucid way of putting
the thing. ‘It would bounce like a bounding Dervish and come shooting back like
a homing pigeon.’
‘Two very happy images, m’lord.’
‘I haven’t a bean.’
‘insufficient funds is the technical expressions, m’lord. His lordship, if I may employ the argot, sir, is
broke to the wide.’
A day of quotes
I have nothing to declare except my genius.
– Oscar
Wilde
This is what I like about Oscar Wilde. Shamelessly
flaunting his charisma.
A quote I just saw somewhere and like:
起初他们追杀共产主义者，我不是共产主义者，我不说话；
接着他们追杀犹太人，我不是犹太人，我不说话；
此后他们追杀工会成员，我不是工会成员，我继续不说话；
再后来他们追杀天主教徒，我不是天主教徒，我还是不说话；
最后，他们奔我而来，再也没有人站起来为我说话了。
– 刻于美国波士顿犹太人被屠杀纪念碑
Wierdos
Don’t know if anyone else’s noticed, that there’s an increasing
number of wierdos in
I think all these examples of eccentricity are telling us
something about this society – for what kind of society, what kind of
environment would have driven so many people awry?
I must get out of here. Physically, not mentally.
Another Friday
Jar! What’s wrong with today’s network? I can neither log on to
MSN nor ICQ. Did the IT guys upstairs discovered my little daily treats and
block the whole thing?
For the rest of the day: zzzzZZZZZ
MSN service resumed in the afternoon.
MSN Transcript
Crawlers
09:something Why are there so many crawling ants/snails/organisms of some
sort present on HK land surface? Honestly, if they can’t pace up, then I’d
appreciate if they keep off from the main road – 靠邊站!!!
15:23 Received MSN from
C, she’s trilled to have got a 1st Hon. I congratulated her, but was rather
puzzled at the justification that might have been rightfully or otherwise
attributed to the cause of it.
Start off with books
10:53 Ha, here comes another funny sentence:
‘...And the people in New York publishing known primarily for their sense of
humour you can probably count on the fingers of one hand.’ I just want to say,
‘ditto in
[flok-si-nor-si-ni-hil-i-fi-KAY-sh'n]
the action or habit of estimating something as worthless. The term
comes from the Latin words flocci, nauci,
nihili, and pili,
all of which mean 'at little value'. It is rarely, if ever, used seriously, and
generally only encountered in word games or as an example of an extremely long
word.
With my floccinaucinihilipilification as one of my distinguishing
characters, I eventually come to the conclusion that the word
‘floccinaucinihilipilification’ is really worthless.
Glamour vs Austerity
Dah, start looking for
jobs again. The funny thing about job-hunting is that once started, you don’t
really want to stop. There’re several interesting ones, thought might worth a
try. One is Asst. Editor for Hachette Filipacchi, the empire of magazines; the
other Feature Editor for Phoenix Satellite, while the rest are only normal
English teaching jobs or Creative asst. thing.
They all seem less decent / respectable than the previous ones
that I found, but the Hachette Filipacchi post sounds really exciting. I’ve
always fancied a job in a fashion magazine, and this one suits me just fine.
Just think about all the fancy clothes that you can buy and wear to work and
stuff you can write for magazines, plus the prospects look good, too.
Anyway, there’s nothing to lose for applying.
But it’s pathetic, isn’t it? When a glamorous lifestyle’s in
view I start to forget all my promised commitment to an academic one.
R says he enjoys the map book immensely. I couldn’t agree less.
J’s right about it, that it’s the most boring book he’s ever read. Yeah, it’s
boring. Good for commute read though, ‘cos you’re
forced to read it.
Not much progress on the cultural theory reading. Must start to
push myself. Meeting MN to give her the scary score from scary CH, hope she’ll
promise to hold the fort for me.
L’s given Tigger a nice ribbon,
unfortunately it’s a bit too long for his size. Will try to trim it down a bit.
Promises
Oh my God! There’re so many promises that I’ve made and have no
prospect of fulfilling. Really should start to keep tract of these things.
Recently started my career as a ghost writer… well, mostly unpaid jobs for
mates. Should consider it seriously though, real in short of cash.
Just read an
article that I think should be hammered into A’s head. Gosh, really can’t bear
the idea of having such an ignorant boss! There’s one particular sentence that
I think applies to her attitude v well: ‘…the average person on the street
doesn’t appear to seek it [poetry] out, and the great mass of my younger
students have long reported feeling uneasy, dumb, indifferent, or occasionally
even hostile to it.’ But the thing is, here’s an English lecturer talking about
her students; while the individual I’m referring to is a middle-aged woman with
a master’s degree in English, and she’s in education and publishing.
Subversion
(am I on my way to
become BJ?)
Finally
I knew it would come eventually. A just talked to me about my constant
lateness, well, I should have told her, it’s an incurable disease. The thing
is, I just can’t wake up early in the morning. Well, I’m determined to leave
anyway, but still, there’re four more months to go. Where will I finally land
on? It’s still pretty much a myth. Found two more potential jobs, one in HKU
and the other CUP, asst. editor on humanities. But it’s an UK job, don’t really
think they’ll hire me though. Anyway, will go all my way just to get out of
here. Leaving in exactly 29 minutes, meeting T for Saturday Night’s Fever. Free
tickets, why not?
Sorting out
Nothing much happened. Office as dull as ditchwater, even if I
send round the OED word-of-the-day I get no interesting reply. Miss J
already. After talking to A on the phone
I felt just so much better. She made me realise that there’re people who feel
far more insecure than I do. Didn’t want to go home yet, no swimming due to a)
back injury; and b) late off work. Therefore, in hope of killing time, I
strolled round CWB again, shopping for personal care products, and seeing the
impact of blooming tourism on local residents. Decided to apply for T.A. post
at CU, fed up with present job, want more tantalising thing in life. If I can’t
make it as far as to York/Cardiff/Cam at least I have to make my way to CU.
Just got the sneaky feeling that somehow I belong there, among books. Sorted out content of bookshelves, made a list of recent readings, unfinished readings,
and intended readings. Found out that
I’ve actually finished 17 books since the beginning of the Rooster Year, in BJ,
when stuck there, companionless, could only resort to SIT and read. Remarkable.
Proved to be quite a good start, though. Com’s in
town, just called, will meet over weekend. That’s it, life, as stale as bread.
Class difference?
The International Children’s Day. Feels like I should be
celebrating. Fell of the staircase last night in the swimming pool, back is
quite pulpy now. Finished Townsend’s Number
Ten yesterday lunch, started on The
Map that Changed the World by Simon Winchester, given to me by J.
Up till yesteryear I have had no bitter sentiment whatsoever against
class difference. In fact, I have never felt that in the course of my 23 years
of life. In a class-free society like Hong Kong, I thought, at least as it
appeared to be, class inequality should be the last thing to blame should one
failed to get what one wanted or deserved. An unforgivably naïve romantic
attitude towards life brought me to believe that money wasn’t everything, that
there were greater pleasures in life that awaited our appreciation. Well, I
wish I can still have faith in it.
And then I found out it’s all a lie – a one hidden under the
rosy acclamations of huge political and economical topics like democratisation
and globalisation. I think we’re born in an era where we’re taught to cry out
loud Green Peace slogans before noticing our true neighbour’s cries. We’re
influenced, hypnotised, and stupefied by the dazzling effects of International
Human Rights, by morality of cloning a sheep, and by the possibility of the
existence of a bacterium-like (in)organism on Mars billions of years ago. But
what about the truer, more tangible things in life? They have no commercial
value whatsoever, doomed to be barren in terms of revenue generation, and thus
do not deserve the attention of any academic research.
There are certainly certain criteria one has to fulfil before
being admitted into a new level/circle of society. The offer letters sent to me
clearly state that I have to fulfil the academic and financial conditions.
There’s nothing much one can struggle about the academic standard: either you pass
or you fail; either you do or you don’t. It’s a rather straightforward matter.
But the financial part is a bit tricky. Even if you don’t have the money,
there’s a way of admitting you into the coterie of snobbish academics, that’s
when you’re smart enough, they’ll give you handsome money for studying, aka scholarship. What gets you to a scholarship?
Groundbreaking ideas and proven academic excellence on some matters that will
substantially alter the lives of human beings, e.g. human rights, cloning technology,
or outer space adventures. And then with a little study I found that those
scholars are usually, quite surprisingly, people of that high level themselves.
Usually it’s just because they can afford the time and the money to do what
they want.
But then one shouldn’t be too discouraged even if they’re not
good enough for a free lunch. There’re always charitable people doing
charitable things, for example, the bank providing services known as education
loan, that the interest rate is so low and the conditions loose enough to fend
me off. That’s rather understandable, though, in view of the fact that people
with the highest academic qualifications are people who earn the least, the
concern of the banks (in fact, only ONE bank that provides education loan)
seems reasonable enough. Then why are they willing to pour out money on
potential gamblers and debtors? It’s a humiliating thing for students, that
their credits are even lower than anyone else. Maybe the reverence for academy
people has stop the banks from attempting to beat students into pulps should
they fail to return the money. The last piece of dignity that (aspiring)
students have.
This reminds me of Dostoyevsky’s Crime and Punishment. Maybe
Townsend was right about the Old Labour.