Choosing to discuss topics on a macro-scale, cleverly avoiding the real reason behind my posts. Bordering upon grand theories, I can safely avoid individual querks that mankind is so prone to. I can discuss, intelligently, but clearly inaccurately. And I can choose not to care. Like professionals do. When economic theories fail, irrationality is blamed. When policies do not wrought the desired results, human imperfection is guilty. When environmental initiatives are not condoned, selfish interests are the oft-quoted excuse.
For a long time now, There have been reports of death in the papers. Death by suicide, likely by stress. Death by accident, likely by disregard of safety protocol. Death by intent, likely by spats of violence. But most amusing is how such acts only gain importance with death. It is almost as if the sacrifice of life, after centuries and aeons of progress, Still bears much symbolism. And this stands in the face of all scientific progress. People as machines of nature versus living people. Life, above all, is very sacred.
And then you consider that tons of deaths in the Middle East by war, Millions of deaths in Africa by famine and poverty; All count for nothing. The papers report it still. Yet, while one suicide provokes huge discussions about changes to education, A million deaths merely evokes a shrug of the shoulders, a shaking of the head. And then it forces you to question; To ask whether the life of one over another is of differing value.
And you understand that it varies from person to person. Ten strangers in a sinking ship and one friend in a stranded kayak. My allegiance is to my friend. And yet, is that moral?
I could, of course, chalk this up to one of the great mysteries of life. Like philosophers have done. Or, I could raise another issue to explain this dilemma. That how, so often, we are lulled into considering scenarios. Never realising that reality is vastly different. Such is the bane of a secure lifestyle.
Perhaps, a blog deserves an additional injection of personality. It demands the inclusion of names no one recognises. All the Sarahs, Alexes, Marks, Geraldines, Garys, Stephanies... Yes, yes. Perhaps...
Singapore has oft emphasised upon the need for an improvement in the usage of the English language amongst it people. However, this has been met with a mere general rise in literacy, but not in the quality of the language spoken.
The most overlooked issue is the concept that complex English usage is often seen as very haughty. Because amazing vocabulary is only relevant at the examinations, transcending this ability onto the streets has the exact same effect as rattling off the specific features of the water cycle when dark clouds gather overhead -- you are shunned by peers, who will undoubtedly give you a look of immense disgust.
There is a general trend that certain schools consistently produce certain types of professionals: politicians, lawyers, doctors and scientists, to name a few. A very plausible explanation lies in the nature versus nurture debates. While studies have been inconclusive as to which is the more important, they have nevertheless agreed to an extent that both are very crucial to development. Compare then a school which trains the students in mastery of the English language with one that merely ensures knowledge of it. Amongst like-minded peers, amidst a competent environment, it becomes inevitable that the students become more adept at more intricate language usage.
Yet, the solutions currently being explored include polishing the scripts of local productions. It includes strict regulatory criteria regarding publications and advertisements. The government has concerned itself largely with the exposure to proper English, understandably neglecting the more cunning uses of it. Yet, success in the world on an international level relies greatly upon out ability to converse in the same style as our foreign counterparts. The time will soon come when focus has to adapt to differing demands. And when that happens, no longer must the concern be so shallow. It must go beyond, daring and proposing to sculpt pre-conditioned mindsets. It must shape and utterly shatter the association of schools with uncool, from which stems the greatest obstacle to creating a population of masters of the English language.
In my kayak, I drifted off. But you reached out. Held me by the wrist, Drew me near. A swift, graceful pull. A soft, gentle touch. Why does the memory linger? Why do you matter thus much?
I have wondered this for a long time: Arranged marriages have often been condemned. But are they in fact wonderfully clever devices?
Consider this: With arranged marriages, Men and women can explore friendship. They can be platonically intimate at will For there can be no subtle hidden motive. He could not be trying to win her heart. The choice is no longer valid.
Consider this as well: The greatest love stories occur amidst such rigidity. Couples fight against societal traditions, And in adversity forge a bond nothing could ever sway. There would be less break-ups and divorces. Love will once again be eternal.
Relationships need to be proven by hardships. Something that society today lacks. Something that has resulted in skyrocketing divorce rates. Something that has led David Gilmore to question: "If love never lasts forever, what's forever for?"
I am not in favour of arranged marriages. But I must admit its tremendous ability in cultivating love. For only when they've lost the freedom to love Will people realise how precious it really is. Something that clearly has been taken for granted today.
There is a very note-worthy description in a book called "Hiding in Mirrors" of art. The success of Van Gogh, in particular, was ascribed to his ability to distort reality within confines that keep it realistic. Vivid, extreme colours are employed to create his pictures of familiar shapes and scenes. It was the intention, subtle or otherwise, of artists such as him to force people to not shatter the belief that all there is to reality is what is seen.
It is not a huge unbelievable jump then to conclude that great art is really chaos within order. Art tends to want to capture a certain aspect of life -- whether tangible or spiritual. Can anyone then say that life is ordered? When physicists delve deep into the basic make-up of molecules and atoms, and consequently the reactions involved, they can only at best postulate the most likely occurence. Thanks to Heisenberg, the path of an electron cannot even be traced, much less the precise motion and position of smaller particles.
Is art then ordered? Nothing is ordered. But art takes this disorder one step further into fantasy. But that is the prerogative of the artist, and it is to the excitement of the connoiseur.
But what is my point, really? I suspect there is none. Just another run I did. To Mount Faber, for the very first time. And again, what a spectacular view.
Flats alternating at random between low and high-rise. Corridors outlining a low-rise in stark yellow. 6 floors. Yellow. 6 more floors. Lights shining from the windows at random. Some orange, some white. Some muted, some bright. The moon adding its touch of silver. The lights dancing in their sparkling glamour. Do the people even know their part in something so picturesque? And I am forced to wonder if the government had planned all. Or if all was purely coincidental.
And it dawned upon me: That at its very essence, Nothing happens by coincidence. Someone is behind all things. Praise be to Him.
