In His Time

Sunday, May 30, 2004

Serving God or Money? Ramblings

Am upset with myself over some things in my life that really need God's correction, and I guess one of them is the tendency to drink too much and do stupid, stupid things afterwards! I always think I am free to drink, but give me a little bit of freedom and I tend to drink more than what I am supposed to, I think. And after that I do crazy drunken things that I half-regret and half-want to do again in the light of day.


The Bible says, "You cannot serve both God and money". I don't think money means simply a means of acquiring possessions. I think money means everything that is temporarily fulfilling, every pleasure that is ephemeral. Deep in my secret heart I don't think that my one and only desire is to know God and to serve Him more, as it should be. Deep in my secret heart, I just want to feel loved by the people around me, and perhaps deeper in my secret heart I want things that cannot be typed out, cannot be expressed for shame and fear. And perhaps even in my unconscious the things I think about and the things I desire are not the things of God.


How can I be half-hearted in serving Him? It's either all or nothing, like the all-or-nothing signals to the synapses of the nerves (lame biological joke). And do I choose Him, or do I choose earthy desires and pleasures? Time and time again this question has surfaced in my life, and much more often in Leeds than back in Singapore. And each time after months of struggle I have chosen Him, so why has this question come back again?


I also need to settle the Singsoc finances, fast. It worries me to think of how much responsibility lies on my shoulders, and that I can shirk it or fulfill it, whenever.


I feel the need to make a joke to maintain readership, but somehow I don't feel very jokey.

Thursday, May 27, 2004

An Alternative View of the Universe

My exams ended two days ago, but I was out enjoying myself way before they ended.


A few days ago Andrew finished his exams, and I went to Lucky Dragon with him, Audrey and Florence. We ate so much and made so much noise that the night was a haze and the customers were smiling benevolently at us; after a while the tables around us emptied so that we were left alone with a radius of empty tables around us (Which always seems to be the norm)! In every restaurant we go to, the tables around us seem to empty especially quickly. I wonder why!


After that we decided to walk to the river Eire and Audrey was pretty freaked out by the inky blackness of the river and Andrew and I walking in front joked about a swamp thing rising out of the water. It was a beautiful night, though, black and starless, and there was something mysteriously surreal about it, and I expounded my theory of the alternative matrix to Andrew.


We were being filmed, I said, by the citizens of a more developed, alternate universe. They had learnt how to poke holes into the thin netting that separated universes from each other, and had chosen us as the subjects of their interest. They were all " Singaporean", so called, and could understand our jokes, our slang and our colloquialisms. They just populated the entire world in their universe, though, and their major form of entertainment was watching our exploits on National TV.


Make a joke, Andrew! The eyes of the entire world are trained on you, I said. Knock Knock. Who's there? Woo. Woo Who? Stop flirting with me! Maniacal laughter from me, puzzled and disgusted looks from Andrew. From time to time we would wave as though to the camera, and say "hi there!"like a true reality show celebrity.


Two days ago I finished my exams and my housemates decided to go out in celebration, but Deborah treated me to a very nice dinner at La Tasca and I met up with my housemates at The Lounge at Radisson Hotel, The Light, instead. Had one and a half glasses of Sangria and was feeling a little woozy by then. :o) Audrey came over to mine and we saw Andrew off to Romania. He's going there to teach English for two months.


I received a few texts from him since then and he says his host family is very nice and they're feeding him alot, and he seems to be fitting in well  and enjoying himself. Apparently, they're feeding him alot of beef. No chio Romanian girls so far, though! :oP I miss him. Swimming with Liting and Summer today at the International Pool felt a little different without him, and without the usual huge meal after.


After that Audrey and I came back to find my housemates downing pitcher after pitcher of Long Island Tea in the kitchen, and getting louder and happier by the minute. We escaped to my room where I finished Housemate Above's Vouvray (the Vooovoochex wine I was talking about - found out the name is Vouvray) and had a good chat, which was interrupted by the Housies coming in all stumbly and silly and plonking themselves on various objects in my room. It was really nice to chat with them though, and to do the little clacking of heels thing with Housemate Above. Ahaha.


And today it was down to the International Pool again, where I swam a couple of laps, gawped at a naked woman in the communal shower, and gazed at the competitive swimmers training. A very productive day, non?

Monday, May 24, 2004

Wednesday Morning, 3 a.m.

I'm listening to Simon and Garfunkel and hitting the books with makeup still on my face and the lawyer lamp - the lamp Wu gave me a year ago as a symbol of his friendship - steadily winking on my Fourier Series notes.

Simon and Garfunkel have the saddest lyrics set to the chirpiest tunes. Songs like that make me feel doubly sad when I hear them. Since my laptop crashed, my lovely happy song, "No one loves me like you", has been out of my hearing, and I have to resort to my Simon and Garfunkel CDs to give me a high. Yet it's kind of a mixed high. If only I could shut my ears to their beautiful, yet unbearably sad, lyrics.

Bought fortune cookies for my housemates and I opened one tonight. It said, "With a little hard work your creativity will bring you great results." Which means that I should be studying now...

Housemates have congregated in Housemate Above's room, which means I'd better go and study

now

Sunday, May 23, 2004

A Blog Entry Written With a Pillow-Covered Belly

Had takeout for dinner today, along with Andrew's laksa and Audrey's strawberry tart. It was a really unhealthy dinner and I'm now holding my breath in my very tight top and covering my belly with Housemate Above's extra pillow, sitting in front of his laptop while he watches Armageddon, and blogging.


Something really bothered me today, so I thought I'd write it down and hopefully try to get it out of my system by catharsis. Yet I don't know whether merely writing about it will help me; I think doing something about it will help me more, but somehow I don't really know what to do because I'm just a learning and growing person, same as everyone else. I know I sound rather serious, so prepare yourself because I don't think this entry is going to have any funny bits in it.


I found out today that one of the Singaporeans who had come to Leeds earlier in the year felt that he hadn't gotten enough support from the Singaporean Society. He had emailed the Singaporean Society earlier in the year before he'd come, and he hadn't received a reply. I remember getting that email and pushing it to the back of my head because I saw the email addresses of other committee members in the "to" field, and I thought that someone else would've dealt with it.


Apparently he's been saying over and over again how he feels that the Singaporean Society hadn't helped him at all, and he's very thankful that he met Audrey and Calvin because they were the ones who truly helped him.


I keep on hearing about it and it makes me feel truly rotten as a person because, no matter how I may have thought that someone else would've borne the responsibility of emailing him and helping him to settle his stuff, Ishould have taken the initiative to make sure that he really fitted in and that he was settling in well.


I guess it wasn't easy to have had so much responsibility thrust on me in such a sudden period of time, which really brought out the worst in me.


I also felt terrible when I reflected on the friends around me. They do simple things for other people without seeming to make a big fuss about it. I remember being invited to a friend's house for breakfast and he cooked breakfast for us without making any big deal about it, doing things quietly to bind people together, not boasting about organizational ability or any such thing, but doing things slowly and steadily and helping to bind people together by simple acts of service and kindness.


I hope that in future I will be able to say less and do more for other people! (Housemate Above says "from now on" instead of "in the future"!)

Saturday, May 22, 2004

Dandelion Fluff, the blasted things!

I was walking to the library today, and on my way along the dark alley that is Woodhouse Lane, I saw two pieces of dandelion fluff floating together past me, drifting slowly, slowly. They were joined together and they seemed to be carrying each other along; they seemed ever so relaxed, ever so secure that they would somehow reach wherever they wanted to go, as long as they were together.


Somehow the two blasted bits of fluff succeeded in making me feel unbearably lonely!


News of the house: A new laundry basket has been given to me by Calvin. Which means that I have to put the old laundry basket in the cellar. However the Housies will have to do it, because the cellar is dank and dark and I don't want to end up as a pile of bones on the cellar floor. Ahahaha.


Shall go back to oogling cute guys in the library studying!

Friday, May 21, 2004

The Voice of Truth... and Astronomers

Taking a break from my "studying", I went down to the Union to meet up with Andrew for lunch and we ended up pigging out and buying dessert. I bought a 59p pack of four Ferrero Rocher chocolates and finished it. Then we went into the little arcade place in the Union and played Hangman and Spot the Difference on the arcade machine. It's really addictive! We were aiming for the jackpot of 20 pounds, but we didn't even come close. I never knew hangman could be so addictive!


(Aside: The only reason why we didn't hit the jackpot was because Andrew thought "Astronomer" was "Astrologer" and hung the man with his "L".)


After that we walked to the library, and it was so cold that I was shivering in my thin, low-quality H&M cardigan. I was complaining that I needed a winter coat, and Andrew said "You already have a winter coat!" And my spooneristic mouth said "But both my holes have pockets!" We laughed and laughed and because of my hyena-like laugh quite a few people turned their heads in astonishment.


Then it was the library, the 13th floor of the Edward Boyle library with Audrey. The 13th floor is where all the Leeds hunks congregate to study, and I found myself getting not a little distracted. Audrey, on the other hand, has an iron will. And you know what they say about all British guys being cute? It's true. And the guys in Leeds are the best of the lot.


Anyway, to change the subject drastically, I've been listening to Mercy Me, and their songs are simply amazing. I didn't really like them the first time I heard them, but some songs are really wow. Here's one that I'll use to end my I-should-have-been-studying blog:


Voice of Truth
Oh what I would do to have

the kind of faith it takes to climb out of this boat I'm in
onto the crashing waves


To step out of my comfort zone
into the realm of the unknown where Jesus is
And He's holding out his hand

But the waves are calling out my name and they laugh at me
Reminding me of all the times I've tried before and failed
The waves they keep on telling me
Time and time agian, "Boy, you'll never win!"
"You'll never win!"

But the voice of truth tells me a different story
The voice of truth says, "Do not be afraid!"
And the voice of truth says, "This is for My glory"
Out of all the voices calling out to me
I will choose to listen and believe the voice of truth


Ok, think I've blogged quite enough for the time being. Stop blogging, Ruth! Everyone's falling asleep!

Laptop Hell and Vooooovouuuchez Wine

So it's official. My laptop has finally gone to the big laptop hell in the ground. A few days ago, while I was studying Biology, it started acting up and flickering every few seconds like a maniacal laugh. After a while Nicholas came over and I made him look at my laptop and he fiddled a little with it, and whoa hey! The screen flickered, and with a dying gasp, er, died. No matter what I do to it (hit it, put it near the radiator, tie it up with ropes and threaten to pluck out its keys one by one) it refuses to start, and is clearly and unequivocally (fine word!) dead.


The upshot of all this is that I am forced to go upstairs to use The Housemate Above's* computer, and end up chatting and laughing with him and the Housemate Diagonally Above.* Yesterday, after checking my mail, blogging, and doing my fair share of surfing around, I downloaded a little video which never fails to make me laugh into Housemate Above's computer. Then he was seized with a sudden impulse and we tried a very nice wine in his room. It's called "Voooovoooolez" or "Vouucouuuuchez" I think, something like that anyway, an esoteric french word starting with "V". It was very nice and very light and very sweet, and Diagonal Housemate came over and drank and watched Wild Things while I watched sadistic videos of the Happy Tree Friends.


So the Housemates seem to have found a blog I used to keep with a friend of mine, detailing our diet plans and how we were going to eat lettuce every day, by typing "bimbo" into Google. The internet is a dangerous thing. And I must be more careful about what I write in this blog, because they were laughing at some of the earlier entries yesterday (signs of fatness, cute red headed guys, among others). So I must declare: I am currently studying and very conscientious and not interested in guys whatsoever however cute they be. And I am not bothered about my weight, even though I am the same height as a male friend and heavier than him... dangit!


Went over to Katie's to pass her some "mochi" which I'd bought from the Chinese supermarket, and she showed me a little purple fruit which looked familiar. The mangosteen! The Chinese supermarket is also selling durians. Try a durian if you dare! The creamy gooey bittersweet taste is heaven.


I've still got a paper on Tuesday, and am going to start studying


now

*Housemates being possessed of natural modesty do not wish to have their identities revealed.

I really like reading this weblog. It's really funny too! Will get a permanent link up in a bit.

Thursday, May 20, 2004

Rest Day

My housemates are cooking "bak kut teh" in the kitchen, while I am upstairs typing, having done my fair share (i.e. cutting broccoli and cauliflower).

Liting and I went to see Calvin off today and to get some things from him. I got a little bathroom mat from him and a letter which he instructed me to read out to the cell group on Friday. His last will and testament.

Seeing people leave is always sad for me, especially now that our cell group is so close. I've never met a bunch of utterly selfless people before, who care more about the happiness of others than about their own convenience. I really learnt alot from everyone in my group. People serve quietly, faithfully, and lead without even seeming to lead at all. I hope that when I go back to Singapore I'll be able to find another such bunch of like-minded people too.

Anyway, after seeing Calvin off, Liting and I went into town and I bought a new swimsuit (6 pounds!) and two new tops, one a yellow-y one, one a pink flowered one. The changing room in the sports shop was really dodgy because the door starts at my knees and only comes up to my neck! I felt surprisingly naked in my thin swimsuit and got out of there as fast as possible. I think it's a ploy by the sports shop to get you so nervous that you don't really notice what you're trying on, and end up buying low-grade goods as a result.

We also went to Bar 88 for lunch and the waitress from Malaysia asked us where we were from. She thought I was from Thailand! Well, it's not a bad foster country to belong to, don't you think? : )

Tuesday, May 18, 2004

Tiredness

I actually fell asleep during my favourite film of all time, which was showing on Channel Four last night, which shows how drained I was after the paper yesterday. La Vita e Bella. I was sitting in the kitchen with my Physiology of Plants and half watching, half studying, and at 1 30 in the morning I couldn't take it anymore and went upstairs. Fell asleep once my head hit the pillow.


I went over last night to give some Milo packets to Andrew and to visit them for a bit, and it was about 9 but the sky had that weird glow where you don't know whether it's almost night or almost morning. My heart gave a couple of quick, queer thumps. Isn't it strange what the night can do to you? It makes you feel as though you're in love. Everytime I go out at that time of day I suddenly feel as though everything is unreal except me, and I am the only person who moves and breathes and is conscious of her own existence.


Had a chicken kiev for lunch in the union, which reminded me of Matt's Blog. And am now going to hit the books once again. : )

Monday, May 17, 2004

Of Curly Beards and Chirpy Songs

We had the most sinful of dinners yesterday. Kebab, sausages, mashed potato with cheese, grilled chicken wings and wine and coke. Today we had pasta with lots of cheese and coke and Ben and Jerry's ice cream for dessert. The day before yesterday we had a barbecue. I can't imagine what my arteries must look like by now. I imagine them being all squishy and clogged with dripping fat.

I realised something terrible today. I'm eating as much as a guy. My housemates seem to assume that I eat as much as they do, and pile my plate high with whatever dinner they have on hand. And the worst thing of all is that I've become used to it, and guzzle away like the best of them. Next thing you know a curly beard will be sprouting from my chin. Ugh...

I burned a CD for Andrew and Liting recently that has one of the nicest songs I've ever heard. It's called "No One Loves me like you" and it's by Jars of Clay. I've been putting it on repeat and the chirpy intro just makes me want to dance around and jump all over the place.

I'm also listening to a song Hao Ern recommended. It's called "Crazy" and it's by Mercy Me. It makes alot of sense to me how people who seem to hold strong beliefs are seen as slightly off their rockers by the rest of the world. I guess that it pays off more to be yourself than to pretend to hold the views of everyone else.

"I have not been called to the wisdom of this world..
But to a God who is calling out to me..
And even though the world may think
I'm losing touch with reality
It would be crazy
To choose this world over eternity"

Examination Rambles

Spent the whole of last night in a generally good mood, listening to music and thinking about things, and studying and thinking somemore, and occasionally doing a wild dance around my room to a frenetic guitar beat. I wasted probably four hours being happy, and spent one hour lying on my bed, and spent about three hours practising past year papers and memorising formulae.

The paper was surpisingly easy and I finished it in half the time. Hope I'm not being complacent. Despite the lack of sleep, I think everything went ok. Thank God for being with me : )

I'm now contemplating studying my Biology, but not very sure whether I can do it without my 10 hours of sleep. My skin feels like very lumpy frog skin and my eyebags could probably give kangaroo testes a run for their money. Ahahhaha...

Ok, won't bother you with my weird sense of humour. I must be losing readers by the dozen these few days... after the exams there will be bright and funny and poetic and interesting entries, I promise. : )

Sunday, May 16, 2004

Miracles

I was really glad today because Liting accepted Christ. I know it's a really big step for someone to take, so it was amazing : ) Was really joyful throughout the day as well..

I really thank God for where I am today, and for how I get along so well with my housemates now. We have our differences of course, but I suddenly feel at ease and a part of this house, where before I had not really felt that. And what my dad wrote in his letter turned out to be so true. He knew that I was having problems fitting in and adjusting where I was staying, and he wrote, "If you don't get along with people, it's not the fault of the other person, but probably yours. You have to reflect and pray, and ask God to show you how you can change."

I think that I've changed a little, and I'm now not so quick to complain or condemn. I think that I'm learning how to relax and be more secure in God, and just accept people as they are, and be happy where I am.

When I think back to how I was a few months ago, caught up in wrongful relationships and addicted to sinful things, and to how I am now, free and happy, I can't help but be thankful to God.

Hehe.



Bill Amend's foxtrot.

Friday, May 14, 2004

The Most Unbelievable Thing

I was really touched during cell group today, when Calvin did the icebreakers.

First he asked us to share an unbelievable incident that had happened to us in the past. Everyone's incidents were really funny. Mine was how my mom had been warned by the doctor that I might possibly be retarded because my head was too big when I was a baby (abnormally big). Other people shared about how their moms had driven themselves to the hospital while they were in labour, how they had dated the prettiest girl in town, etc.

And then Calvin said that he would share something unbelievable with us. This something unbelievable was that God would actually be willing to be born in a humble stable, to be despised and rejected and killed, just so that our sins would be forgiven and we could know him. It seems like a deal too good to be true, and something so unbelievable, that all you have to do is believe and you will have a whole future with God and can live life with Him in your heart.

Then Calvin said, "There's something even more unbelievable and amazing than this. You know what that something is? That something even more unbelievable, is that despite having this good a deal, despite God having already done that much for you, there are still some people in this world who refuse to take it. That's what is even more unbelievable."

Somehow the words and the way he was looking straight at me cut my heart, and I thought about how I always try to intellectualise things, when sometimes simple faith is more than enough.

He's flying back this Thursday :( We're going to miss him alot.

More Frivolity

Yes, am taking a break from my studying, which is going well today (perhaps because I'm in the library where everybody else is studying). I have two more example sheets to look through, 2 past year papers to do, and formulae to memorise, and then - I'll - be - done.

I actually had something really serious and profound to post on here, but I'll do it later while I'm taking my other study break, and I'll post something frivolous here instead. I hope you won't be disgusted with me; it's not very often that I become a sort of The Sun communicatee, and bubble forth with talk of cute guys and pierced earlobes. Really.

Anyway, was in the library when I bumped into a friend of a friend, whom I used to find cute in Year One, and finally got to meet him at the party of the aforesaid friend. He is funny and nice and smart and good, and he visits the Leeds Home for the Aged every week. He looks like he should be in a boyband, and Gemma has not yet seen him around uni with a girl hanging onto his arm. Being unobservant and generally absent minded, I doubt I would have noticed either way.

And we chatted, and he had a little smile and very very blue eyes, and a very nice Oxfordshire accent.

I think maybe I should change the vitamin pills I'm taking. Too much oestrogen...

Diary of a Certified Bimbo. Mamma Mia!

Quick blog before I "roosh" off to uni to do my revision (hear my northern accent? Am just being silly again. As usual).

I am so considering going to New York with Paula and her mates (or rather, fantasizing about it). She has really cute friends! I went into uni this morning for a last-minute revision class held by our lecturer, and arranged to meet her earlier so that we could look for the mysterious Classroom D. Ran into uni a few minutes late and caught her outside the library talking to the most gorgeous guy I've ever seen.

I've actually seen him before, in the Moroccanish cafe just on the outskirts of Headingley, where he was smoking a hookah. He was breathtakingly cute then, and is breathtakingly cute now. He's got pink skin, dark eyes and hair, and perfectly arranged features. His left ear was pierced, and he looked slightly effeminate because he was so well-groomed.

And there he was talking to Paula in the bright sunshine, beautiful accent (British, not Italian), lovely smile, even teeth. As we walked away I said, "Your friend is really cute! Is he gay though?"

"To be honest I haven't a clue, mate! But he's a lovely guy. He's Italian, one of my friends doing Italian knows him, and I met him at Ye Olde Bar... he's doing management and all..."

"I do hope he's straight, it would be a perfect waste to us if he wasn't..."

We reached the Maths Department and tried to look for Classroom D, when at the floor plan who should we see but the cutest guy taking this maths module, pondering over the same question. (I really mean he is the cutest guy in our module. I've been alternately looking at him and the lecturer this past year) He saw us and his eyes lit up, and we complained about our mutual confusion and finally found the class. He is breathtakingly cute, and as we chatted I was happy to note that he had the loveliest accent ever. And the clearest green eyes.

We had our class, and the lecturer gave us so many hints I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. And the day has barely started!

This is another of those anonymous blogs by the mysterious hacker, who is signing off

now

Thursday, May 13, 2004

A Little Bit O' Rubber

Latest House Development: Shagging people outside the house. (Not shagging people outside the house, but shagging people outside the house). Well, you knew I wasn't a professional writer anyway...

(Aside: Had dinner with my housemates today, think I should've because I haven't had dinner with them in a long time. I sometimes feel like a terrible housemate, because I'm always out doing something or other, or I never vacuum my room often enough, or I never clean the house, and things like that. So it was good that we had dinner together today, watched F.R.I.E.N.D.S. together, and after that I had more twinges of conscience and hoovered with carpet cleaner.)

Apparently the latest list of objects mysteriously appearing in our backyard includes a blue condom and a pot. The pot being a small, round, stainless steel pot. And the condom being a large, crumpled, blue condom. The housies are all for calling LFHA (our housing agency), and complaining about the condom. But it's rather hard to explain the pot. Unless those people have some kind of weird pot fetish. Housies say they probably used the pot for covering their faces while doing the Deed.

Today wasn't a very productive day. But I think I learnt a little bit about doing what I feel right, not doing what I'd enjoy, but doing what I know I should. I guess I'm learning a little bit of discipline. Ughhh... matriach-y word! I'm growing up!

I was also thinking about my past, which "aint not much of a past" because I've been so sheltered. But since coming overseas to study I've done my experimenting and I've rebelled against what I felt to be convention or mere religious restriction. Yet I never feel so happy as now when I'm following the good old-fashioned way. I don't think anything is worth so much as knowing that you are loved and your life is secure in the hands of someone who knows and cares.

Too many italics, too much mush. I go, in haste. Come back again.

Wednesday, May 12, 2004

And the Most Absent Minded Person On Earth is...

I went swimming at the international pool two weeks ago, and left my swimming costume and towel in a little plastic bag brought along for that purpose. On reaching home, I left the bag in my wardrobe for a few days because I didn't want the swimsuit to be mixed up with my other clothes due for the wash. When I was clearing out my wardrobe, I found the little plastic bag, thought it was a little bag of rubbish, and threw it away.

I only discovered my mix-take yesterday night, when I was searching for it to put it in the wash (yes, I do know it has been two weeks, thank you) and found neither hoof nor hair of my missing swimsuit. On the bright side, it means that it's now necessary for me to get a new one yay! It's kinda silly but I think a yellow one might look extremely cool (or just extremely stupid).

Today started off well as I managed to spend a little quiet time in the morning playing the guitar, praying a little, and thinking about things, and reading a bit of Romans, so that was good.

I got a call from my dad early in the morning today as I was studying Cauchy's Theorem, and he's flying off tonight for Paris, where he'll be preaching to the Chinese church there (I think), and after that he's going to come up to Birmingham to preach, but I won't get to see him because I'll be in the midst of my exams. Boo

He also said that he had given me all the details of his coming, and I thought he hadn't because I hadn't any recollection of him doing so at all. Checked through my past mail and found a letter from him that had come with some university documents. I'd read the documents but not the letter! Tell me about absent minded! I hadn't even realised it was there. So after he hung up, I took it out, and finally read it (nearly a month after it was penned).

Being in Chinese, it wasn't very comprehensible to me, plus my dad's writing looks more like a very artistic calligraphy than legible print, but as usual I couldn't help crying as I read it. There's something about handwritten chinese makes me cry. Or perhaps just the love that I knew was in my dad's heart as he sat down with his black pen and stroke by stroke formed each character.

Family ties are strange things. You never think much about your family until they're apart from you, and then you look and look for something that isn't there, and you realise that there's a big gap left by their absence. Relations are the only people you can not call for a week and still not feel awkward talking to after.

Anyway, am cheered now after going in to uni to meet coursemates and exchange notes. Paula, one of my coursemates who's going to be doing a job attachment next semester, asked me to go to New York next year with her and her mates. I would love to, it would be really fun, but duty (ie uni) calls. I wish I had a sliding doors kind of life, where in one life I'd skive off one week of uni for New York, and in another I'd stay and save 500 quid like a good, prudent Christian.

I feel like the student who, in the hassle of revision, wrote, "I am in the mist of examinations". I'm in a fog of notes and example sheets now, but I'm glad that it's spring, the sun's out, and I have eyes to see it.

A Balanced Life...

Listened to a really good talk by Wee Leon today which set me thinking about my life and whether it was balanced. He talked about how Jesus was the ultimate balanced person, and that he grew in wisdom and stature, and favour with God and man. He then expanded it into 4 points:

1. Wisdom (intellect)
2. Stature (physical health)
3. Favour with God (spiritual life)
4. Favour with man (social life)

AS he talked I couldn't help thinking that I needed that balance so desperately. I do want my life to be centred around something other than work, or money, or alcohol, or fun. I want my life to be centred around a Person whom I know loves me.

I'm inordinately afraid of being called a religious freak, especially since I grew up in a pastor's family. All my life I've tried to fit in and I've enjoyed being popular. I've avoided taking any kind of stand other than the middle ground. Yet I think that I should just stop caring about what other people think or say, and seek after the Lord with all my heart. For life is empty, disjoint, and my heart is discontent when I don't.

Tuesday, May 11, 2004

The Azures....

Studying has officially started today, and I sit down with my notes and grit my teeth in determination. Everything's coming along really slowly, much more slowly than I would like it to be. I feel like I studied much more during my O and A levels than now.

I really do think that when you don't use your brain often enough, your brain cells start to atrophy and die. Perhaps this explains why I'm always slow and tired these days. I'm not using my brain enough. Or perhaps (horrors) I'm growing old. Next thing you know I'll be having a mid life crisis and buying a Porsche (Lame Joke).

I'm slowing down in other areas as well, it seems. After not having practiced keyboard for quite a long time now, I can't play as naturally as I used to. I used to just let my fingers run over the keyboard, but now, I have to have the chords in front of me and I have to think.

Perhaps you can tell that I'm not in a very good mood now? Anyway, will try to push all thoughts of aging from my head and study hard and try to do as well as I'm capable of.

If this is the way I'm like when I'm 20, I shudder to think what I'll be like when I'm 80! Probably a drooling, slightly gibberyish gentle lady who hides in the sanctity of her living room. Well, keep reading this blog, and one day you and I will find out. And wish me luck with my revision.

Monday, May 10, 2004

The ISAF Club

I admit that I'm posting only because I'm so happy with Blogger's new templates that I have to try everything out. I have to try out the comments boxes and the Title fields and the permalinks and everything. And the little "I power Blogger" button is really cool! Anyway, I've invented an excuse for posting. It's a true one, honest!

I think I swallowed a fly today! Was running to Andrew's to get him to edit my essay (which I gave him a whole packet of marshmallows for) at 2 o clock. Stayed until 2:30 and when I ran back, I felt a little something in the back of my throat. Desperately swallowed but I can feel the little bugger in my left tonsil yet. I think I swallowed a fly!

Someone who knows, please tell me how to get some links up. I'd like to credit the lovely people whom I get inspiration from and whose blogs I read regularly :)

Sexual Perversion


The concept of sexual perversion is like the grin of the Cheshire Cat; it lingers on when the conditions of its possibility have been removed. Discuss.


The concept of sexual perversion seems to be an elusive one; attempts to define sexual perversion have been vague and uncertain at best. Any definitions of sexual perversion would only be accepted if they were objective, if they could account for the sexual practices unanimously and unequivocally considered perverted (sadism and masochism, exihibitionism, voyeurism, fetishism, bestiality, necrophilia and paedophilia ), and leave out the sexual practices not commonly considered perverted, or the ones which are contestable (such as homosexuality). Working backwards and finding a definition (a question, so to speak) to fit the practices (the answers, as it were) we already think perverted seems to be the best approach to analysing the concept of sexual perversion. Attempts to find a suitable definition for sexual perversion in this way by various philosophers shall be discussed, and found to be lacking, in this essay. As such, it seems as though we should do away with the term (and concept of) sexual perversion altogether. However, sexual perversion still “lingers on”, both as a descriptive term and a concept. In this essay, I will also attempt to show why, beyond all reason, we still consider certain sexual practices perverted, even though we do not possess a suitable definition of perversion encompassing these practices.


An instinctive definition for sexual perversion is: that which is sexually unnatural. This definition of sexual perversion raises several problems, of which the foremost is: how can we determine whether a sexual practice is natural or not? Philosophers have taken several approaches to this. Three of these approaches shall be discussed: the biological approach, the teleological approach (which overlaps slightly with the biological) and the statistical approach.


St. Thomas Aquinas, the medieval Catholic theologian, took the biological approach . In meditating on the inevitable consequence of sexual intercourse, and believing that sex was for the function of reproduction, he condemned many sexual practices, including masturbation and homosexuality, as unnatural and wrong. Any sexual act that did not lead to reproduction interfered with the course of nature and was hence unnatural and perverted. His argument seems to create a few problems. In believing that sex was for the primary purpose of reproduction and that any sexual act that deviated against this purpose was perverted, he would be condemning contraception and oral sex as perverted as well, where they would not be commonly called perverted, either in his time or ours. There was no lack of birth control in the ancient world, where women would commonly drink herbal potions of various plants now known by laboratory analysis to be somewhat effective in preventing pregnancy. “Vaginal wool suppositories” were also somewhat amusingly recommended by Byzantine medical writers in Gynaikeia of Soranos, published in the 2nd century, as being able to prevent pregnancy. Oral sex, being rich in symbolism, was even the subject of a poem by Thomas Carew. Aquinas’ definition of the sexually perverse seems to include in its scope acts not many would call perverted. Hence, this definition of the unnatural and the perverted does not work.


In another attempt to distinguish between the natural and the unnatural, other functions are attributed to sex, such as giving pleasure to the individual. This appears to be another biological approach, the nerve endings in the clitoris and the male sexual organs seemingly put there by nature to make sex a pleasurable experience. Any versions of sex that go against the function of providing pleasure would be unnatural, and hence perverted. However, this definition appears to be incomplete, since necrophilia and bestiality, sexual acts commonly termed perversions, do seem to provide immense pleasure to the person involved. Pleasure would seem a rather simplistic description of the function of sex, and to call perverted sexual acts providing no pleasure would be a ridiculously one-dimensional approach. A more sophisticated definition of the perverted would be needed. In addition to this, many people think that a sexual pervert would be someone who derived pleasure from what would normally be an unprofitable or unpleasurable act. Considering whether the denial of pleasure in a sexual act leads to perversion seems to lead us in a circle, as the person would not commit the act if not to gain sexual pleasure in the first place.


It would seem to make more sense to consider flourishing, rather than pleasure, when attempting to analyse the concept of the unnatural and perversion, in the pursuit of a more sophisticated argument. This is attempted most recently by Donald Levy, who claims that an unnatural act “is one that denies a person (oneself or another) one or more of the basic human goods ‘without necessity’ ” . In his point of view, an unnatural act would be one that did not contribute to the overall amount of happiness (flourishing) in society. Deriving pleasure by detracting from human flourishing would hence be deemed unnatural and perverted. Levy also says: “denying oneself or another a basic human good without some other basic human good being expected or intended to be made possible thereby is always wrong, and is also a necessary condition of perversion”.


This view of perversion seems to account for both sexual perversion and perversion itself. Practices such as necrophilia do not contribute to the flourishing of the individual, even though they contribute to his pleasure, because he would probably derive greater pleasure from knowing that his physical pleasure was reciprocated and contributing to the arousal of another person. Paedophilia would naturally be perverted since the child would be harmed by its practice, and bestiality would not contribute to the overall flourishing of the human race, because the practice of bestiality would deny that one person (whose place might have been taken by the accursed beast!) the pleasure that that he might have had.


However, this account of perversion has its problems. It seems to be rather forced, stretching its arm out to fit in every commonly defined perversion while vainly straining to leave out sexual acts deemed immoral but not perverted. For example, this account, at first glance, implies that adultery would be a perversion because the sexual pleasure of the wife would have been denied by her adulterous husband. Levy knows this and seems to tack on the clause, “without necessity”, to create a safety net for himself. Levy seems to imply that adultery is necessary for the adulterous husband, even though it denies his wife her pleasure, because it contributes to the flourishing of the husband and his mistress, and hence it cannot be called a perversion. Levy’s definition of perversion would mean that if the basic human good gained by the husband and his mistress more than make up for the basic human good lost by the wife, adultery would be wrong (the purposeful denial of pleasure), but would not be a perversion (as the necessary condition of the pleasure of another was included). This seems to be very forced, and all the problems of measuring human flourishing and the human good lost and gained come with Levy’s definition of perversion.


Furthermore, in saying that immorality is a necessary condition of perversion, he confuses the two and contradicts himself. Shades of one may be seen in the other, but to “deny oneself or another a basic human good without condition” is definitely wrong, though not necessarily a perversion. Fetishism and bestiality are commonly viewed as sexual perversions, but they are not usually thought to be immoral, particularly not if the object of fetishism was an inanimate object such as a sock or a shoe, or if the animal in question was unharmed, or even, horrors, had derived sexual pleasure from the act of bestiality. Other sexual acts commonly viewed as immoral, such as prostitution, seem to contribute to human flourishing and at the same time, cannot be classified as perversions and are commonly practiced. Levy’s attempt to define perversion using “basic human good” as a parameter fails not only because it is forced, but also because he does not distinguish the immoral and the perverse.


Clearly, attempting to define sexual perversion by unnaturalness biologically or teleologically (as detracting from human flourishing) fails. Another teleological attempt is made to define perversion as the unnatural by Nagel, who holds that both parties must be mutually aroused by each other for sex to have fulfilled its proper function. Any sexual practice thwarting mutual arousal is seen as a perversion. This seems to be a good account of perversion as it excludes practices we now view as deviations from the ordinary, but not perversions, such as homosexuality. However, it excludes practices such as sadomasochism, commonly thought of as a perversion, because the parties involved are mutually aroused by each other. And the thought that an animal could be aroused by bestiality is ludicrous, yet not impossible or unthinkable; still, this possibility would make nonsense of Nagel’s definition of perversion.


In attempting to leave out all considerations except objectivity in defining unnaturality, and hence, sexual perversion, Goldman calls all sexual desires perverted which are statistically abnormal in form. This seems a rather neat, mathematical, unbiased way of defining sexual perversion. However, this account of perversion has its problems. Firstly, the statistical norm of sexual practice would be heterosexual sex, which might mean that homosexual sex would be a perversion where it is now not commonly viewed to be so. To say that the statistical norm of sexual practice would be heterosexual sex would not necessarily include necrophilia and paedophilia as perversions, yet they are classic examples of sexual acts regarded as perversions. If one went further to say that statistically abnormal sexual practices had to be distinguished from normal ones not just by form (heterosexual sex) but also by the content involved (desire for children, corpses, pain, etc), this theory would still have loopholes. The preference for total darkness rather than dim light during sexual intercourse is statistically abnormal, yet one would hardly call that a perversion. In addition to that, should bestiality become a common practice, we would still call it a perversion. Defining sexual perversion mathematically also poses the problem of where morality fits into the picture. If sexual perversion were purely a mathematical concept, carrying no moral connotations, this would not account for our concept of sexual perversion as deserving disapproval or, at the very least, disgust.


The suffering philosopher makes a last attempt to analyse the concept of sexual perversion by latching onto our reactions to the practices viewed as sexual perversions. Common reactions are of horror and disgust, as to something not quite aesthetically pleasing. The picture of a man “knowing” a swan in the same way Adam “knew” Eve is not a pretty one. Yet, our views on what can be considered aesthetic vary significantly from person to person, as can be seen by Yeats’ almost erotic, violent, and yet certainly beautiful description of Zeus disguised as a swan holding Leda “upon his breast”: “How can those… fingers push the feathered glory from her loosening thighs? ” This picture does not make the reader cringe, unless it be in arousal. Ugliness alone cannot be used to define sexual perversion.


Having erased the unnatural, the statistically abnormal, the going against human flourishing, the immoral, and even the aesthetically displeasing as being the sole conditions for the definition of sexual perversion, it would appear to be the best course to discard the concept of sexual perversion altogether. Classifying sexual practices as pleasurable or unpleasurable, as good or bad, as moral or immoral is definitely easier and clearer than to classifying sexual practices as perverted or otherwise. However, like the grin of the Cheshire Cat, the concept of perversion cannot quite disappear from our minds, nor the words “sexual perversion” disappear from our vocabulary.


Why is this so? I believe that each of us, no matter how hard we try philosophically to be objective in this matter, view sex as being for a purpose more significant than the act itself. We treat our sexual organs with rather more respect or significance than we do the other parts of our body, covering them up with custom-made clothing, washing them more frequently and thoroughly than is perhaps needed. Our refusal to treat sex as a mere physical act channels into the oft-heard stories about prostitutes refusing to kiss their clients and porn stars confessing their regrets years later. Even though analysing the concept of sexual perversion has made nonsense of it, we still struggle to define acts we stubbornly perceive as sexually perverse.


All of us have expectations of sex we cannot get rid of. Our expectations cannot be explained away, they are always there. When the unexpected is thrown at us, our natural reaction would be to call it perverse. A rat trained to run in a particular maze keeps on running in that pattern and banging its head against walls when put in a different one. Like the rat, we seem to have an unexplainable instinct for running the old maze, identifying practices as sexual perversions, which instinct we cannot get rid of any more than the rat can learn a new route in a new maze. The existence of the word “perversion” is evidence enough of that. Like the grin of the Cheshire Cat, the concept of sexual perversion lingers on, even though the conditions for its existence have been methodically and logically removed. Blame it on the durned cat.

Saturday, May 08, 2004

Essay Blues

"Still I feel so gay, in a melancholy way, that it might as well be spring..."
I know it is spring and almost summer, but I was listening to Frank Sinatra and this line was so beautiful that I have to put it down on my blog before I forget.

Am busy reading up for my second essay: "The concept of sexual perversion is like the grin of the Cheshire cat. It lingers on even when the conditions of its possibility have been removed. Discuss."

Busy busy day ahead!

Friday, May 07, 2004

The Little Dreamer

So Biology lecture today, and I started the lecture with a straight back and bright eyes and ended the lecture slumped on the table with eyes misted over. Our lecturer, a German cell biologist, never pauses to breathe between each sentence, the result being that we get more and more bogged down the further he goes into the lecture, because we never get the time to digest what he says properly.

He was talking about the green fluorescent protein today, and he called it the GFP. Then suddenly out of nowhere these esoteric acronyms appeared on his powerpoint slide: CFP, RFP, BFP, and all of us almost fainted. I don't see why scientists have to assign all sorts of acronyms to perfectly simple terms just to complicate matters! The scary-looking CFP, RFP and BFP turned out to be the Cyan Fluorescent Protein, Red Fluorescent Protein, and Blue Fluorescent Protein. I'd much rather have them write out the whole thing!

I went to see "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" with Katie and her housemates yesterday. It was really good, one of the best films I'd seen in a long time. It reminded me of "Lost in Translation" because of the way it was filmed, kind of true to real life with the beats between a conversation slow and natural, a moment captured unhurridly without any sort of apparent acting. Although everything turned out alright in the end, I felt very sober during and after the film. I could see hints of myself in Joel, Jim Carrey's character, and that rather scared me. He's strong and funny and humourous, but after the memory wipe he undergoes becomes lost and doesn't really know what to say most times, because he doesnt have the most significant of his life experiences to draw from.

I must never dream away and get too lost inside my own mind like Joel. Never. I have this strange tendency (you know like when you've had a glass too many of wine) to get lost within my own thoughts and only snap back into the real world when I'm with a huge group of people I'm very familiar with. I think that's very very unhealthy. Ask me about life, love, death and war and I can reply, but ask me about how my day was and I have to think for a bit.

Ok, to stop wandering into introspection: I made cottage pie for my housemates today. And it turned out pretty well, although by the time we started eating it was already 9 o clock. It didn't really matter though, because it was still light out. We watched the Newcastle game and had almost a whole bottle of wine. I was a little wonkedy after everything had ended, which means that I have lost the ability to drink and I can never touch Absinthe again. *sob*

Was out for a while today at Audrey's. Walked home and the stars were twinkling gleefully in the sky. It's strange how friendly they look today, when not too long ago I imagined them being malicious. I think I saw Mars, if Mars is the big one that doesn't twinkle, and I think that I'm really thankful that even though I live on a "blighted star", and have to go away and marry a gentleman to be made a lady (esoteric text reference), I have everything else that I could ever wish for or need. (crap paragraph).

Good night.

Wednesday, May 05, 2004

Is it a Contradiction to Say that God Doesn’t Exist?

“Who then shall I say you are?”


“I AM who I AM”, God says to Moses in the story of Moses and the burning bush . It is uncanny to note that God had described himself as “Being”, using the attribute of existence as that which defined him, centuries before Descartes and Anselm had taken up the same line of thought, expanding it into arguments which were fiercely contested, the gist of these arguments being that existence was part of the nature and definition of God. Although these arguments have drawn much flak, I think that it is a contradiction to say that God doesn’t exist. A description of the arguments for the necessary existence of God, and a discussion of the objections to them, shall follow.


The argument for the necessary existence of God is based on our concept of God. We can conceive of God as “that which nothing greater can be conceived” . God could either be an intellectual conception or a reality. If God were only an intellectual conception, we could still conceive of something greater, and that would be a God who was a reality. In being, a God who existed in reality would be greater than a God who did not really exist. However, since we cannot conceive anything greater than God, God cannot exist only as a concept (God cannot “not exist”). Hence, it would be a contradiction to say that God did not exist. For convenience, this argument will be called the ontological argument. Simply put, the ontological argument is the claim that non-existence goes against our definition of God as the greatest being we can conceive, and hence God must exist.


Our conception of God as omnipotent also allows for a second, simpler argument. Since God has the power to do everything, he would have the power to exist. Descartes says: “We shall thus understand that necessary existence is contained in the idea of a supremely powerful being… because it belongs to the true and immutable nature of such a being that it exists.” Hence, to say that God didn’t exist would be a contradiction, for it would be to say that God was not all-powerful; which, by definition, he was.


The ontological argument involves the assumption that a real God is greater than a fictional God. Le Poidevin claims that we have no basis for this assumption. The fictional God, says Le Poidevin, has all the qualities that the real God (if he exists) has. He is omnipotent and surpassingly great in the fiction that we have constructed, just as the real God (if he exists) is omnipotent and surpassingly great in the real world. Hence, a real God cannot be greater than a fictional God, as both of them possess “surpassing greatness” as a property: one in fiction, and one in the real world. We cannot claim that existence, as a property, makes the one greater than the other. Supporting Le Poidevin’s claims would be a comparison of the tooth fairy and an ant. Le Poidevin would say that surely the tooth fairy, who does not exist, possesses more greatness, albeit in our minds, than the ant who possesses little greatness and little power.


I do not agree with Le Poidevin. Something that actually exists is, in my opinion, definitely greater than something that only exists as a concept. There is no basis for saying that the power of the tooth fairy is greater than the power of an ant, even though the tooth fairy can, in our minds, grant wishes and give rewards, which is far more than an ant can do, because to compare nothing with something and say that nothing is greater is simply ridiculous. For even though our concept of the tooth fairy endows her with superpowers, the existence of the tooth fairy needs to be the base of all these properties, and the tooth fairy simply does not exist. We are comparing a nonentity, which has the property of exceeding greatness, with an entity that has the property of a little greatness. Yet, simply because the entity is something, we must admit that it is greater than the nonentity, because the little greatness the entity has exists, while the exceeding greatness the nonentity has does not exist. Non-existence can be compared to an arbitrary zero, which multiplied by the highest number still gives a lower result than 1 multiplied by the lowest possible existing result. Being is greater than non-being, and hence Le Poidevin’s claim that the ontological argument has a false premise is unfounded.


To argue that it is a contradiction to say that God doesn’t exist links only the concept of existence with the concept of a supreme being . Thus, say the detractors of the ontological argument, it doesn’t follow that God actually exists, but only that our idea of God must include the idea that he exists. This is all well and good, but I think that the concept of existence is very different from the concept of any other property, say the concept of being yellow. For example, I may have the conception of a fruit that is a cross between a banana and a lemon. This Banamon is necessarily yellow. However, it is only the concept of a banamon that is linked with the concept of yellow, as the banamon does not actually exist. To compare the concepts of God and existence as being linked in the same way is absurd, because to link the concept of existence with an idea would not be merely saying that the idea exists only in our imaginations, but that the thing depicted in the idea itself actually exists. An idea itself can exist, but for an idea to be logically and methodically linked with the property of existence would necessarily mean that it has to exist in the real world. When the ontological argument says that our concept of God must necessarily include the attribute of existence, this does not mean merely that God exists in our minds, but that he exists in the real world.


A last objection against the ontological argument would be this: if this argument were true it could be extended to include all kinds of perfect ideas. Theoretically, a perfect triangle could exist, because it would not have imperfection in its nature, and hence would not have non-existence as something that defined it. However, we know that most perfect ideas (perfect shapes, perfect animals, perfect symmetries) only exist in our heads. How then can we say that God is not merely also an intellectual concept? I think that this is because God is by definition the embodiment of all perfection, whereas any other ideas of perfect shapes or animals would only be representations of perfection in one aspect or a few (shape, strength, beauty) but not necessarily in the aspect of being. Hence, this objection cannot stand.


Even though I have tried to show here that the ontological argument holds despite the objections against it, I believe that the strongest evidence of God’s existence is that the knowledge of good and evil, of truth and falsehood, exist in our world. It may not seem a contradiction to some to say that God doesn’t exist, but a far better appeal is the evidence of our ability to judge, our capacity for feeling, and our appreciation of beauty. To our intellects it may be difficult to argue against the non-existence of God, but to our hearts it is certainly easy.

Postscript: I don't know whether I should have started with the Bible because I think the professor marking my essay would probably think: "religious freak!"... and the funniest thing happened on my way to uni! I was running to hand up my essay before 4 o clock and I passed this door in the philo department marked "poidevin". Did a double take but was rushing to get my essay in so fought with the hordes of people filling in their coversheets and jostling for the essay box. After I'd handed it in, I walked past the door again. It said, in gold letters: R. L. Poidevin!!! Dammit!!!!

Tuesday, May 04, 2004

Pop Tarts

I ate my first pop tart today. Well, make that my first 3 pop tarts.

I'd never been allowed to have them as a kid because my mum is the kind of person who prefers broccoli to sugar. So when I spied them in the Union today, I bought two whole boxes and a packet of Maltesers and a packet of Bassett's fruit bonbons.

My housemate came home just in time to see me consuming the last of the pop tarts and I toasted one for him and he ate it with glee while informing me that these were the little culprits that had caused Britney Spears to put on weight.

I also saw foxgloves for the first time today on the way to uni. Little purple bells, they looked just the way I'd imagined when I was a kid.

Okay now on to the real stuff, studying has not been good lately, oh-ho no. My room is too messy to study in, and I'd tidied it up just last night. Everytime I embark on a big project, though, like writing an essay, stuff just gets strewn all over the room so I have to tidy it all up again in preparation for the next big essay. This is a systematic list of things on my bed right now:

1. A cardigan.

2. Meditations by Descartes.

3. Course Readings.

4. Graph paper.

5. A Bible.

6. A bag.

7. An empty bowl and a spoon.

8. 2 magazines, A4 paper, lipstick, eyelash curler, face masque (uhh).

And I wonder why I never get any sleep...


 
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