Archive for July, 2009

Like a silver bullet

July 25, 2009

…and it’s the weekend again. It’s fascinating how the weeks recede backwards towards the horizon as PW approaches. And it’s equally fascinating how Stumbleupon chooses to throw up 15000 word articles on Brave New World and paradise engineering just before one gets down to PW.

It appears that there is an unspoken law that roughly goes as follows: The more someone resolves to get something unpleasant over with, the more the universe plots to produce fascinating distractions.

Which, then poses the following question: Should one try to live as mundanely as possible only to miss out on so much, or should one seek out extremes in order to glimpse the beautiful?

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July 21, 2009

Oh Goodness.

It’s been nearly two weeks since the last post. Doesn’t time fly when you’re having fun?
If, of course, metaphorically choking to death on PW and getting back to school and more PW before CCAs have even resumed is fun

July has just flown past, although it seems that nothing is going on at all. I have the strange sensation that each day and week is crawling like a snail through molasses, yet I find myself wondering where all that time, ripe for slow savouring, has gone. The myriad things to do are poking out from behind the nooks and crannies I hid them away in, clamouring for attention. Yet, as I efficiently dispatch each task with satisfaction (and a quiet “good riddance!”), when I finally look back, I find myself bemoaning an empty blank space where accomplishment should be.

Metaphorically Mixed.

July 8, 2009

It’s the first day of a brand new term, but if you listen closely you can still hear the faint whoosh of half a year vanishing into the distance and the faint smudge of its quickly disappearing trail.

It really is like a tiger; you can sense its presence, perhaps out of the corners of your eyes, but never actually seeing it. Then, after an eternity of stalking, it pounces, from nowhere, and its over in a flash. It creeps up on you like a glacier; seemingly stationary, until the day you open the front door to a wall of ice.

And thus goes the end of a half-year and the beginning of another one. Common Tests are over, the scripts marked and returning. We have been weighed on the scales, and some have been found more wanting than others.

Or rather, we’ve dipped our toes in the sea and found it too chilly for our liking, but we know we’ll be swimming in it come October. In other words, it doesn’t really matter yet, but you sure as hell be ready when you’re going in headfirst.

~insert abrupt ending~
…because it’s late and I’m being hectored to sleep because we all know the youth of today surely need more than six hours of sleep a night to maintain their mental, physical, and emotional well-being. or for meaningful function of any sort at that. Just look around you for examples of the terrible fate that befalls massive sleep debtors.

In summary, CTs: yeah, sure, whatever. AAAAA—> be pleased; ACBSD—-> be slightly displeased

Happy Fourth of July.

July 4, 2009

We stand on the cusp of a new day, a special day. As tomorrow dawns, so begins a day of remembrance. A date that serves as a memorial, lest we forget.

Tomorrow, on the 4th of July, Rwanda will celebrate Liberation Day. It will be 15 years since the events of 1994 erupted into racial violence. 15 years ago, more than a million individuals were murdered in the course of a hundred days. In the span of three months, as neighbour turned on neighbour, a million unique people ceased to be. And the world watched, rapt with horror.

As international leaders found themselves unable to act, racial hate fanned into the flames of genocide. As men debated the sovereignty of nations, other men became murderers. Some enjoyed it, many others were subsumed by the bloodlust of their so-called brethren. Men became killers or risked their own death, in a society burning down to reveal the primal behind the fa├žade.

As we remember the genocide, let us question ourselves. How could any hate be so great as to blind a man to himself? How could a matter of race, a matter of ethnicity, a matter of wealth or power be enough to drive a nation to destruction? How could enough men hate enough to tear a nation asunder?

And as we consider the weakness of irrational mankind, of how great his folly is, let us also remember a little more. Back to 1945, and to Dachau. Today, there stands at the camp a simple engraving; Never Again.

And we ask of ourselves, why. If we said Never Again, then why? Has our memory failed us, or our resolve? As the world watched the camps, liberated one at a time, through newsreels and reporters, it recoiled in horror and shock. Did we make ourselves hypocrites in 1994?

And yet, everything goes on, as it must. Each new day brings with it fresh headlines; of suffering and of devastation, of joy and of hope. The world keeps turning, it’s just up to us to write the story. The story of humanity is a long and chequered tapestry; we can choose to let this latest thread be of justice and goodness, of charity and goodwill. We can be the ones to bring the headlines of hope, to see a future worth making a cause of.

It’s the choice and prerogative of every one of us six billion people on our lonely planet to make the very best of it, to put on all the virtue we could hope for. Like the Bard put it,

All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;

Just over six billion parts, waiting to be played, each in their unique circumstances. Some with more responsibility, some with less, all with their varied roles. The actors are about and the production is afoot; will it be comedy, tragedy, or something else completely?

Happy Independence Day.