Sunday, September 30, 2012


In this age of information explosion, there is way too much information available in the Internet and some of them is actually repetitious because some people just like to copy other people’s work and put them as if their own. You can easily find many of such examples in Youtube. These people are wasting our time in searching for different kinds of information. So, in this case, there is always a convincing reason why we usually have to resort to books which have at least certain level of reputation guaranteed when doing research.

Today, I do not want to put the focus on books. Instead, I want to talk about ‘comments’. After reading a news passage in Yahoo, BBC or CNN or a video clipping on Youtube, would you bother reading comments written by others readers/viewers? In reality, I think commenters sometimes tell more truth than the main texts (article/video) themselves.

Below is an example of the above mentioned case from Yahoo:
Many people criticized the senior lecturer of providing wrong information to the readers… (skip, skip, lazy, lazy…) After doing some little research, it has proved the commenters to be right.

Here is another good example from Timeout:
I myself also think that the design is really stupid and wastes space. The interiors are badly put together – the floors are dark; every floors have very limited space of about a maximum of 8 classrooms; there are unused space, particularly the angle part, is designed just to fit the design of the building…

So, would we spend some time to activate our critical mind in judging the validity of a piece of news? Or will you just click the ‘share’ button when you find it interesting? Have a thought for yourself.

Before ending, there is a piece of personal advice I would like to share with all of you – dig ONLY into the areas that what you really want/need to and leave the rest aside. Life is short and life is about making choices. One cannot get to know all the fields available in the world – we learn and we forget. And I think this is also the reason why we all have different careers and we contribute to society in different aspects, right?

Extended reading:

[Smarts: It's Not How Much You Learn That Matters. It's How Much You Remember]

Saturday, September 29, 2012

Writing a blog

Writing a blog has always been the rivalry between individualism and collectivism. If you can bear long enough time to try to develop your habit of writing, it will stay… at least for a few weeks. And then, to keep or not to keep the habit, that is your choice. Writing a blog should not be treated primarily as a social activity like what Facebook does. It is a way for us to express our inner self through words. If you think the other way round, you will end up stopping to write your blog when you find that there are few/no comments about your blog entries. The same destiny applies to Xanga, which was once considered a popular blog web.

Celebrity Consumption

Nowadays, celebrities in the world are like drops in the rain – you just can’t count! Surely, most of us would regard some kinds of celebrities as our idols. But what is the reality? Are we consuming celebrities just partly because of groupthink? Or, do we really admire one’s deeds so we have decided to treat celebrit(ies) as our role model(s)?

The Youtube video below gives a perfect demonstration of the first thought:

"On the night of July 27th, 2012, a huge prank was pulled in New York City and this is the video of what took place. Brett Cohen came up with a crazy idea to fool thousands of pedestrians walking the streets of Times Square into thinking he was a huge celebrity, and it worked! Not only did it work, it caused quite a stir. This social experiment, of sorts, makes a profound statement about how modern culture is so attracted to pop culture, without any real credibility needed.

While you are having fun watching this video, please also give yourself some thoughts about the prevalence of celebrities in society.

I Was There (Part 2)

Click here to read I Was There (Part 1)
Click here to read I Was There (Part 3)

"What is this place?" This question echoed in my head for a few times. "Where am I?"

Now the sky was covered by in a black veil. I could only see things 2.5 meters away from me, 3 at most. I started to scan this place, trying to figure out where I was. First thing that caught my attention was a sound, a sound people made when they walked on planks of wood, and I tried to look downward with the help of some dimly lit neon light hanging above my head. To my surprise, I was on a wooden platform. I looked back up, and the neon lights were in fact old-fashioned oil lamps. Did people still use them these days? Wouldn't neon lights be a better choice? Then I began to looked around again, and I saw only a few people walking by, behind me there were many boats. So, I was at a pier.

I needed to know where exactly I was and how I could get back home, so I looked for someone to ask. They all dressed old-fashioned, rugged clothing, and though my white shirt was now yellowish under the lamp, while theirs were brown, some were even black. I was sure they were not wearing brown nor black, because those were stains. They were all in a hurry, and I failed at stopping any one of them. Wait. I had my mobile phone with me. How stupid was I? I had it the whole time and only by now did I remember I had it inside my schoolbag? 

I took out my phone and started to open my phone contact. Before I scrolled down to the contact "HOME", I was distracted by a noise. Someone was running on the planks, and the sound was getting louder. When I turned halfway to my right to see what happen, I was hit and I fell on to the ground. My shoulders hurt a lot, but my head was the most painful part of all. I looked around and tried to see who hit me, I was sure that guy's head was no less bruised than mine, because we went head to head. Still rubbing my head to ease the pain, I found that the guy who hit me was a girl, and she was holding her hand in distress. I could not see her face because she buried her face in her hands. Finally, she raised her head and I could get a better look at her. She looked familiar, looked like someone I knew from before but did not see each other for a few years. Was she someone I really knew, or was my headache so strong that my brain had failed to function properly.

She was the first to speak, "Will?"

For a second, I was surprised that she knew me, but memories came back to me and that was the moment I was certain. I knew who she was.

- End of Part 2 -

Monday, September 24, 2012

What real music stands for?

Society is variable, this is inevitable fact within the universe----Dominance of music would be always changed, just like people beyond Asia love Korean pop music and started to ignore those international pop music.

I love Korean pop music as hell, just like being poisoned or like being tempted by handsome guys. I talked, I traveled, I spent my time in those Korean stuff rather than those in foreign countries. It seems that I had been being drugged by those K-pop deeply in a coma, to those original and real pop music.

"Come on, Kayla. They are just all the same, why are you so into them?" My school friend from Australia said after realizing i have some crazy mind in those pop music. She is not the only one who said those things to me, my elder sister did say something similar to me likes "You got some poison gas into your mind." and "I have crashed into addictive fruits." Yet, I still listen to K-pop music.

My passion on the foreign music simply lost, nope, not my passion, is the problem in terms of myself--I was getting lost on my choice to music. What is real music?------I didn't know, I have no idea about that, until I know a band named Amaranthe.

Few days ago, I went to Hong Kong Records. I found quite noticeable CDs, "Amaranthe Special Edition" with a high cost (about$150) and so many people are in the band, 6 people. The design of the album is quite dark and evanescence-like. So I have decided that, if the songs of this album are not too sharp or out of my genre as well as they are fresh and novelty, I would buy and regard this as my treasure.

Undoubtedly, They are fresh and novelty, suit for my ears and they wake up my nervous system---the most important things, they relieve those poison gas which infected me. I find my way to my choice again.

Their songs are special, i cannot believe 3 singers in this Finnish band. Female & Male Vocal and screams(i.e. you would find screams vocal from the metal-core band like "silpknot"). They combine metal-core and pop music together, to make their own music. And that is awesome. What I think is, this may be the definition of real music. 

Real music does not depend on how well you sing or dance, but your passion, participation and your way of thinking on making music, creating a piece to make people happy, to convey your feeling, which is quite near the definition of modern visual arts. The songs, are all created by the band members. Other than this band, in the US No Doubt(GWEN STEFANI) writing "Don't Speak", Britney Spears writing "Everytime", ex-member of Evanescence Ben Moody writing "Nobody's Home" and "My Immortal" , Ne-Yo writing "Take a Bow", even Adele, from the UK, acted as a songwriter for "Rolling in the deep" and "Someone like you"---- why some of these songs become classic and prominent globally? You have to learn that there are still many bands in the US, Britain etc.

From all this, I realize that pop music should be liked those in foreign countries, rather than those in Korea. K-Pop is not bad, they are awesome, they can sing and dance well. But they lack of passion and way of thinking on music, they just do their performance well, yet most of them do less on making music. Therefore, they are all the same.

To me, to me, I consider K-Pop as "just for fun", "relieve my pressure", "for my own exitement", on the other hands, Foreign music is more than that.

Saturday, September 8, 2012

A Moth Gave Me Dance Lessons, Except It Didn't

I hate you, moth.
For when I saw any
Of you,
I knew I was about to take
A dance lesson.

I hate you, moth.
The moment
I started to hear any
Tickety-pickety sounds you made with your
Horrifying wings and ugly legs,
My head would go sideways, and
My eyes would roll up and

Flap, flap. Scream, shriek.

After the warm-up you made me do,
You confirmed my fidget
With your presence.

I fear you, moth.
You teach various dance moves
I never learned before, which
I did not remember asking or
Inviting Your Dishonor
To give lessons.
But I followed your instructions,
Anyway, with reluctance.

1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3.
Salsa, Cha Cha, Hip Hop.

After all, 
I have not become a proper dancer,
And will never be,
If I show people what I learnt from you.
I tell you, moth:
I just wished you would listen to me when
I asked you
To leave.
Don't accept
the invitation I never intended to give out.

I can only
Turn on the fire of your hell
To thank YOU for
All the unnecessary things you taught me.

Comments and advices are welcome~
Truth be told, I really need some guidance ;)

Thursday, September 6, 2012

Ten Thousand Origami Cranes

"Mr. Chen, your daughter was in a fight today and she broke a student's nose. That boy is from her class as well." The class teacher Miss Lee looked and sounded upset, she had such high hope in Mr. Chen's daughter, Mui Lai, who was the brightest and the most well-mannered little girl in the class.
"Miss Lee, I'm so sorry for what she did. She wasn't anything like that usually." Mr. Chen jerked out a predictable and robotic answer to defend his daughter, which was expected of any parent.
"Yes, I understand. I would like to know what could have made her behave like this. I've asked some students who were also on scene when the fight took place. They said the boy took away the Origami Mui Lai was folding and would not return it to Mui Lai."
"That girl's mother, my wife told her to fold ten thousand Origami."
"Ah...yes. Mui Lai said that her mother would be unhappy when I asked her what happened about the fight."
"Miss Lee, can I talk to Mui Lai now?"
"Oh, of course. She's right inside the classroom. You should talk to her, as her class teacher, I'm very much worried about Mui Lai. I'll show you the room." Miss Lee brought Mr. Chen to the classroom door and she left him to talk to his daughter Mui Lai.
"Daddy..." Mui Lai tried to cover up a part of her right hand with her left hand, because there was a bruise due to the fight.
"Honey, does it hurt?" Mr. Chen gently rubbed the bruise with his thumb, in a circular motion.
"Yes. Today I could have had 400 of them, but that boy took away the 400th one, now Mommy would be unhappy about that."
"Sweetie, you don't have to fold papers anymore. Mommy would not mind." Mr. Chen appreciated what his daughter did, but he could not find a word to express himself.
"Then is Mommy coming home yet? Mommy said I need to make ten thousand Origami cranes. When I've finsihed, I can see her again.
"No...Mommy's not gonna come back, sweetie." Mr. Chen tried very hard to stay calm, but the tears still streamed down his face.
"Why, Daddy, why are you crying?" Mui Lai was too young to understand what happened, though, she reached out her tiny hands and wiped off the tears on her father's face, but that was it, only tears were wiped while the pain stayed.
"Sweetie, Daddy's fine." Mr. Chen put his hands on Mui Lai's shoulders while he was squatting down. "Promise Daddy you won't do bad things to your classmates again?" 
"OK, Daddy!" Mui Lai said it almost instantly as soon as Mr. Chen had finished his sentence. It was as if the word "promise" was the trigger word for this response. Now she was smiling, innocently.
     Mr. Chen had decided to keep the secret of his wife's leaving him for another man until Mui Lai was old enough, or never, he thought. In the meantime, he would like to spend more time with his daughter, to make up for the love she was supposed to receive from both her mother and father, and, to feel the happiness from his daughter's innocent smile in hope to ease the pain that seemed to be growing stronger each day. At least he was grateful about one thing: he still had his daughter, Mui Lai, around him, and that was all that mattered.