 |
| and annoying. |
 |
| One of first results when searching "morality" why? Because monkey in a suit, with a gun that's why |
 |
| Put in cynical terms, be nice so that you don't get blown up? |
 |
| He does have a very big hat though |
 |
| this is a pun |
Thursday 12 January 2012
For Goodness' Sake
Sunday 8 January 2012
The Five Year Rule
 |
| Apparently Ted Mosby can be in things other than How I Met Your Mother |
 |
| Penn&Teller, pointing out assholery since the dawn of time |
 |
| Apparently this is a misquote, but I prefer this to the real one |
 |
| An overly idealistic but thought-provoking view on fathers |
Memory
 |
| It might be easier to date elephants you only ever have to compliment them once because they never forget |
So I was browsing reddit trying to come up with a topic to blog about when a great idea struck me right in the face. Unfortunately, I then tried to open wordpress (www.blainedenton.wordpress.com) which crashed repeatedly. After I finally got it open, I had completely forgotten what it was I was going to write about. I then proceeded to try and re-open all the tabs I'd just closed from reddit which achieved absolutely nothing. I'd been so distracted for those few crucial seconds that I couldn't remember anything about my idea.
 |
| If it weren't for this little guy I would resort to sitting in the corner crying over lost ideas |
 |
| Pictured: what my wall would have looked like if I actually took pictures of it |
I am a fan of post-its. I like to write things down and when I'm busy, I like to see what I have to do, do it, then throw the now useless post into the garbage and celebrate my triumph over paper that thinks it can tell me what to do. Were it not for post-its, notebooks, and whiteboards I wouldn't know where to be at what tie, or what to do by what date. But beyond just the scheduling aspect, I use these tools to remind of certain things.
 |
| If ever I find myself an amnesiac in search of a killer I'd be well-prepared |
For the longest time I had the words "memento mori" written on my whiteboard, which means remember that we must die (or some such thing). I had this up there because it always puts things into perspective-- of everything I have to give in this world, the most valuable is time. Now this may be because I'm an English/Education Major which means that I will be paid with a salary of chickens-- but I also think that it is true for most people. The only asset I can never regain is time and as such I am very picky about what I spend my time on. I like to be productive, but I also need some downtime in which to reflect and relax. I need to constantly remember these things because otherwise I find myself falling into a routine wherein I am not valuing my very limited time here on Earth. And since my actual memory is useless, I like to write things down because then I can see exactly what it is I'm thinking and evaluate if my actions are in-line with those goals*.
 |
| Meditation: lets you cause rocks to float above the ocean |
*HOLY BALLS! I just remembered what I was going to write about initially; being still does not equal doing nothing (It pains me to admit that this quote is from the new Karate Kid movie. More on that later.
Saturday 7 January 2012
The Ability to Recover
 |
| I approve this message |
 |
| I was not however, as bad as this |
 |
| Male or female, this is the equivalent of sleeping on a book hoping to absorb its powers |
Thursday 5 January 2012
To Buy or Not To Buy
 |
| Damn you and your seductive marketing |
 |
| Even Obama doesn't enjoy it, and he's on an airplane |
 |
| Pictured: girlfriend after reading the ball and chain remark |
 |
| Kaylee from Firefly likes shiny things, so they must be good |
 |
| Look at it sitting there, tempting me with its shiny ways |
Wednesday 4 January 2012
Please Don't Pee on the Walls
 |
| Translation: (left) you can't pee here (right) but here is fine |
 |
| This sign is a warning about this sign |
The second example of such silliness occurred this break as I went to the Department of Foreign Affairs (not the one where you sleep with foreigners) to renew my passport. I'd scheduled an appointment and arrived the recommended hour and a half ahead of time. However, upon arriving at the gate I had a second encounter with security guards. He held up his hand and told me that I was not allowed to wear shorts inside the building-- rather than ask if he'd prefer that I take them off, I asked if he was serious. More importantly, I asked him why such a rule existed. His response was, "it's our policy". I then stood there angrily for quite some time and realized 1)that trying to hit a man with a gun would be ill-advised 2)it wouldn't help me get in 3) he was just doing his job. Once more, I was forced to sell out as I went to the closest mall and bought a pair of pants (the pants of my oppression if you will).
 |
| Superman wears underwear on the outside but no one gives him crap (note to self: develop laser-eyes) |
The silliness of these encounters leads me to what actually prompted this particular instance of bloggery. Driving around the city of Manila and its surrounding areas, you are bound to come across signs that say "please don't pee on the wall," or a variation thereof. It has always struck me as incredibly disheartening that such signs are necessary, shouldn't it be the default state of existence to not pee on someone else's property? Now, whenever I rant about this to my friends they say (in a voice you use to talk to idiots, or puppies) "Blaine, they're poor. They don't know better." or "They have no where else to pee." To this I say bah humbug. Being poor in no way means that you are stupid, nor does it preclude from using public restrooms. I don't know how it's come about but a lot of people pee on walls, and a lot of people just accept it. Granted I don't know how you would prevent this short of electrifying your walls (which while awesome, probably wouldn't work). My point here is not to solve the pee-crisis that has stricken my beloved nation, but instead to ask a question. Why do we choose to harangue people over silly things like earrings and shorts, while simultaneously ignoring people peeing all over the place. As much as it annoys me, I believe that it is simply a way for us to exert control in a world where we increasingly have none. There's no way to hunt down (and pee on as a golden rule type of thing) those who pee on walls, but if you see someone violating the dress code you can quite easily deny that person access to your facilities. I understand that this is a complex country full of complex issues, and just like any other country there are always cultural tensions.
 |
| Are Filipinos the Canadians of Asia? We don't have Maple Syrup so I'm not sure |
 |
| I fully support peeing on this "sculpture" by Duchamp, but he'd probably approve |
Tuesday 3 January 2012
Foreign Devils
 |
| What I imagine I look like in Asia before people realize that I'm half-Asian |
Growing up in the Philippines as a Filipino-American has definitely impacted the way I view the world. For one, I have developed a zen-like patience through simply dealing with traffic and the general lack of polite driver-y throughout the country. However, beyond my stereotyping of Asian drivers (of which I am one, so it’s okay), I believe that growing up in a country as uniquely placed as the Philippines has taught me something about the concept of “foreign-ness”. I am a man of many words, and one word which quite effectively encapsulates the topic of this post is “gweilo,” which is a derogatory Chinese word for foreigners. I’ve been led to believe that it sometimes translates as “foreign devil”.
The concept of a foreign devil is intriguing to me as I am quite frequently mistaken for one in my own country. Although I am half-Filipino, in the province I am frequently greeted with yells of “hey-Joe” (a throwback to the term Joe referring to American soldiers and thus, white people). Sure, there’s no malice behind this greeting, and some might even argue it is an attempt at friendliness but I disagree. It is simply another way for someone to let you know that you’re not “one of us”. I remember when as I child a tricycle driver (see picture for reference) once told my father to “go back to the States” and “get out of [the driver’s] country”. Even as an eight year old, I found this quite amusing. You see, my father was in his sixties (or late fifties, I’m not quite sure how old he is), the tricycle driver was probably twenty or so. All in all, I think this meant that my dad had probably been in the Philippines for longer than that man had been alive. The man then ill-advisedly kicked the side of our car, which then led to my father also ill-advisedly trying to start a fight with the man. I don’t remember the exact details, but given my father’s age I’m going to assume they engaged in a round of gentlemanly fisticuffs.
 |
| It took my father a while to get on the tights and gloves, but I'm sure it was worth the effort |
Not all my childhood was spent being mortified by my father’s actions however. From sixth grade onwards, I attended an international school with what is probably considered a very “diverse ethnic” population. I use the sarcastic quotes because I truly and utterly despise the use of the word “ethnic” (note sarcastic quotes once more). As I understand it, ethnicity simply refers to being part of a social group with common cultural traditions. Why is it then that “ethnic food” only ever refers to Indian, Mexican, or Chinese food? Do white people not have ethnicity? I understand that the vast majority of people do not have any intentions towards condescension and that the word is simply that, a word. But as a self-proclaimed man of words, I can’t help but wince (quietly and so that no one notices, because I don’t like preaching at people). Much like labeling some people as foreign devils, I believe the term ethnic is incredibly divisive. If we, as the current majority of white Americans, label others as ethnic then we tacitly imply that to be white is the default state of existence. I consider myself quite lucky that I am both American and Filipino I get to see things from the perspective of both the dominant culture in America, and as a minority. There is also the added benefit of being able to flee either country should things take a turn for the worse. Here’s hoping that the Philippines never goes to war with the US.
 |
| it's true because the paper says so |
The point of this story is that the belief in “gweilos” and “ethnics” can end up becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy. If you tell people that they’re different then they’ll probably act different, and you’ll probably treat them as such. More importantly however is the fact that these words annoy me. If you think that that is a silly reason, then consider this: your complaint does not reference pachyderms, therefore it is irrelephant.
 |
| the blog is called pundemonium, don't act so surprised that I make awful puns |
Schroedinger's Paper
Schrödinger’s Paper
Right now I bet you just noticed that you were breathing consciously, or maybe you just noticed how often you blink, if you’re really stubborn then maybe you’ll begin to feel your left hand itch. I know it’s cliché, but I believe that “when you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back at you.” From psychology, to physics, and your day-to-day life, the echoes of Nietzsche’s idea are still reverberating through the intellectual world. As I sit in front of my computer trying to figure out what to write on, I consider how the act of thinking about my writing is impacting what I write. One of my biggest fears when thinking about writing is that somehow it will all stop working. I’ve never quite understood my own creative process, between ages 11 and 21, I generated about twenty pages of non-academic writing; they were all crap. Between midsummer of this year and right now, I’ve written a couple of hundred pages of either fiction or nonfiction. I like to believe that at least some of those pages are decent. I don’t know what sparked this deluge of creativity, as I’d always had an interest in writing. I just never had anything to say, or at least I didn’t know how to say it. So I try not to think too hard about where this newfound creativity came from, because I’m worried it’ll go away. Although I realize that he made this thought-experiment with his tongue firmly in cheek, I think that Schrödinger was really onto something with that cat of his.
In short, if you put a cat in a box (with or without a fox) and place a tiny radioactive particle in said box, there is an equal chance that in an hour that particle will have decayed or remained the same. If that particle decays, it will trigger a hammer that will release poison into the box, thus killing the cat. However, we can’t know whether the cat is alive or dead unless we open the box, thus it is said that the cat is both alive and dead until we observe it. What I take from this is that, 1) Schrödinger did not like cats, and 2) I do not understand quantum physics. However, as an English major I do not need to actually know things, I can simply interpret them with artistic license (no offense to English majors, this is simply artistic license) . This cat, if it remains unobserved is un-dead. But not in the zombie way, we just simply don’t know what state it’s in, so it is functionally neither, and both. So in this case, if you stare into the abyss, you kill the cat.
In psychological circles, which I am clearly qualified to talk about because I once took psych-101, there is said to be an observer-expectancy effect. What this usually means is that it is very easy for an experiment’s bias to cause him or her to unconsciously influence the participants. However, this is not limited to people in lab-coats as a common corollary to this is confirmation bias. For example, I am an avid gamer and I periodically decide to base my game choices on reviews. Now, I don’t always agree with these reviews because sometimes I’ll pick up a game and truly despise every aspect of it. Then I’ll saunter over to my laptop, prepared for the vindication of my hatred. Unfortunately, there seem to be a number of misguided people on the interwebs that disagree with me. As such, I am fairly unlikely to take their views seriously, an even less likely to continue to frequent their websites. But the guy who trashed Transformers: War for Cybertron? He knows what’s up. What does this have to do with Schrödinger, cats, and the abyss you ask? Well, let me address the question I just told you to ask. I think that the world we observe may not be as objective as we like to think because what looks blue to me, could very well be green to someone else (this is frequently the case as I have a terrible time distinguishing colors). As far as I can tell, everything in the world is subjective; everything is subject to your unique collection of experiences and beliefs, even this sentence.
Remember when I told you that you could feel your butt in the chair? I hope not because I never said that, I said you could feel your tongue in your mouth. Actually I never said that either, but sometimes if you act confident enough you can convince people of anything, regardless of actual fact. Nonetheless, actual facts do sometimes factor into our lives. Some of you have heard of the by-stander effect which states that in a crowded environment, people are unlikely to come to the aid of those in distress. Psychologists believe that this is because we as a group decide that someone else would have already helped the person in need if it were a true emergency. That guy passed out on the train? He’s probably drunk, or else someone would have called 911. Don’t worry though, there is hope for us yet. If you are aware of this effect then you are much more likely to actually call 911, or to intervene when needed. I like to believe that this is because you want to spite whoever it is that told you about the bystander effect by proving him or her wrong and intervening. You know what they say… knowing is half the battle.
But sometimes you don’t, and can’t know how things work. I love to make puns, but if someone yells “make a pun, or I’ll kick this puppy,” I’m usually at a loss. Largely because I’m always surprised that people keep puppies on hand for kicking. I am also fluent in Tagalog, but if some asshole says “quick, say something in Tagalog,” I’ll stammer awkwardly and say… nothing. Which brings me back to my original quandary, please don’t ask me about comma usage. I was editing a paper for my girlfriend, and, she used, commas so often, that I forgot how to, use them, properly; it got to the point that I sounded like Christopher Walken in my head.
The more I think about these things, the more I’m thankful for the fact that even if I don’t know why, something in me has changed. I don’t know if I’ll always have inspiration to write; every week that we have a creative piece due, I go through a brief moment of panic because I have no idea what to write about. It scares me that I’ve never sat down and thought, “Hey this is a great story; I know exactly how to proceed!” Normally I’ll just sit down and start writing, hoping that something good will come. Even now, I try not to examine the process too closely because I’m worried my curiosity will kill the cat (ba-dump-tss).
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)