pork_quiche's Journal

As I looked out of my hotel room window, I saw run-down and dilapidated huts with rusty corrugated metal roofs, haphazardly built over a small plot of land. There was no order and neatness the way the huts were built. From a glance, one can surmise that the hygiene level of the village huts is horrendously low. Young men sat in a circle on the ground and chit-chatted among themselves. Children ran around and busied themselves with their self-invented games. Simple lives with simple choices and simple needs.

The backdrop correlates to reality: wide disparity between the rich and the poor. Located opposite the village is the Intercontinental hotel, a five-star hotel afforded only by the upper class of Indian society. The international airport is located 1km from the village. How many of the villagers have experienced air travel which is a costly form of transport for them? The ascend and descend of an aircraft is probably the only physical experience they can have. From their own ground, they witness the upper class of the Indian society, dressed in their gaudy sari and expensive suits, play merry in the expensive hotels and drive comfortably in their air-conditioned cars. The villagers are probably driven by the pessimistic notion that they will continue to live such penniless life and that they will never be able to experience comfort in this lifetime.

Many a times, Leonard and I come across older folks who beg in the streets. The more resourceful ones either sell packets of napkins or hopelessly play a musical instrument to garner sympathy from the crowd and receive a few coins or if better, some dollar notes. The more able-bodied ones work in Macdonald restaurants or factories for a meager $3.50 per hour. Very often, we chance upon some of them who ransack the garbage bin for aluminium cans. I often question myself: Do the old folks have to beg for money and food to survive? Where are their children? Are they childless? Are their children providing for them?

More often than not, we will give at least two dollars whenever we come across an old folk who begs for money or sells packets of napkins. Two dollars added with other amounts given by other generous souls are more than sufficient to provide a day's meals. But what about other expenses? They can hardly meet ends need. Take a walk along the hawker centre beside Boon Keng MRT station and you will see many old folks who are frail and probably helpless. Cross the road between Bugis Junction and the night market and you will bump into a dark-skinned old lady with dirty clothes and wrinkled face (reflective of hardship) who sits in the middle of the junction selling packets of napkins. God bless them.

The question: Is the Singapore government prepared to set aside funds to financially provide for the elderly? $300 a month per person. Is that too much or just right? Will it initiate complacency? Will the system have loopholes which can be taken advantage of? Will their children absolve their responsibility towards them? Many more questions come into place.

We need a more caring society which will not rely on daring acts of celebrities or fanciful and dramatic shows to instill compassion and to realise their responsibilities to their parents and the unfortunate around them. I donate $20 to the Community Chest, $25 to the Public Free Clinic and $25 to Kwong Wai Shiu hospital every month. Sometimes I wish I could do more.

Richard Fong...oh...Richard Fong. You coward! You piece of SHIT! When I look at your pathetic face, I see Judas Iscariot. TT Durai...oh...TT Durai. You slimy piece of jerk! When I look at your deformed face, I see someone who chose to be a S.O.B. To others who are gulity of financial misconduct in NKF, may you find sorrow in your own prison. Vulgar I may sound but at least I am doing some "word' justice.

Let's give thanks to paper napkins. At least they are on the side of the poorer ones, accompanying and aiding them in their quest for survival.

LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE

When I see the white toiletries hanger in the bathroom, I see you...

When I see the talking clock in the bedroom, I see you...

When I see the green handphone carrier, I see you...

When I see the purple rose on the table, I see you...

When I see the ring on my finger, I see you...

Wherever I am, I see you because you live in my heart...

When I sleep, I dream of you...

When I awake, I think about you...

Whether I am far or near, I miss only you...

Isn't it love?

For Leonard

Dear, I love you...

Dear, you give me emotional security. I have never felt insecure even when you are not beside me.

Dear, we belong to each other only. No one can stand between us.

Dear, I love it whenever you hold my hand.

I love it whenever you give me a surprise kiss.

I love it whenever you buy me things, no matter the price.

I love it whenever you say 'I love you' to me.

I love it whenever we sleep side by side with each other on the bed.

I love it whenever you hug me because I feel protected.

I love it whenever you call me 'baby'.

In fact, I love everything about you...

Me: "Is this your first time to Singapore?"

Diana: "Yes. In fact, this is our first maiden voyage on an airplane. We will set off to Manchester after a two and a half day stay in Singapore visit our son who is lecturing in Nottingham."

Me: "Do you know anyone in Singapore?"

Diana: "No. We don't know anyone in Singapore (laughing heartily behind that pair of sunglasses). But not to worry (looking at Ron), we have each other..."

The conversation goes on...

"We have each other..."

So much of emotional security, mutual understanding and pure love we find in each other. We indeed have each other and know we can count on each other. I cannot but have to agree with my heart that he is the right person for me...

So much I have seen and felt as I walk down the aisle of life. The gamut of emotions, as I have experienced them, both haunted and thrilled me: feelings of joy, depression, passion, anger, frustration, irritation, fear, loneliness, etc. Why do God give us the capacity to feel? I found my answer in a book which I chanced upon in the reference section of the national library.

To discover our full humanity. That is the answer.

How comforting it is to know that God understands, perfectly, the sufferings that the underprivileged and the poor are experiencing, the man who suffers injustice, the mother who fears for her sickened child, the son who cries when he hears that his father had passed away...

He feared when the Roman soldiers came to take him away to Pontius Pilate to be judged. He was compassionate to the prostitute who was stoned by a few self-righteous men. He was sad when Judas betrayed him to the Sanhedrin. He was filled with joy when the multitude who came to listen to his teachings were given enough to eat, courtesy of the divine grace of God. He went through gruelling pain when he was nailed to the wooden cross.

How is it so that men complain that God does not comprehend our sufferings when He has gone through hell and came back to earth? What can be worse than nailing our loving and living Saviour and Creator, in His fragile and tortured body, to the wooden cross and watch Him die, in pain and in agony?

The Lord understands the frailty, fragility, corruption and brokeness of men because He went through the Passion. The Passion allows the God Incarnate to experience full humanity so that He can bring humanity out of its wretched and pathetic state.

Even as I am furiously using my fingers to type out the words and sentences that reflect my thoughts and emotions, I feel His presence in the room. His compassionate towards me brings tears, physical manisfestations of my caged-up anger, frustrations and sadness, streaming down my cheeks. He tells me that life is good and that goodness always prevails.

I am a backslider. Yet I still acknowledge His omnipresence.

It has been a while since I felt loved. I feeI loved by God. I feel loved by Leonard. I feel loved by my father in heaven. Deep inside the crevices of my heart, I yearn for my father's presence. I yearn for conversations with him. I yearn for his wisdom. But I know that I cannot bring him back to life. All that remains are memories of moments with him, his powerful and stirring words, his forgiveness, mercy and compassion.

So much to write. So much to say. It is endless. The human heart is a well that never dries and always swells.

I happened to chance upon the "Seven Blunders of the World" written by Mahatma Ghandi and given to his grandson Arun Ghandhi during his last days.

Stardate: 16 March 2007
Startime: 8.35p.m.
Starzone: Alpha Quadrant

USS Pork Quiche docked at the massive engineering dock above Earth for the astro-engineering robots to paste sheets of polydiasilicon on the silicon window panes. Reason: Species 8472 with sharp devious claws were found scratching on silicon window panes while starships cruise in space and it costs the federation millions of dollars to change new silicon window panes. Apparently these aliens have a strange fetish for silicon. I wonder, with great bewilderment, if their female counterparts utilise them for breast implants.

Choice - A simple word that entails powerful meanings.

The choice to reduce carbon emissions or to increase carbon emissions; the choice to make love or to make war; the choice to advance or to retreat; the choice to eat or not to eat; the choice to heed or not to heed; the choice to scratch or not to scratch. The list is exhaustive.

The power to choose has been a timeless and priceless lesson since the dawn of man.

When God placed the tree of knowledge in the Garden of Eden, He warned Adam of the consequences if the apple is consumed. The power to choose was thus given to Adam and it became a hereditary status for the rest of mankind. In other words, God gave each and everyone of us a will. A will to choose. Adam, unfortunately ate the apple and committed the first sin against God - disobedience. Death is the consequence. Immortality became an impossible dream.

Why did God give us a will or the power to choose?

We must face up to the consequences of our choice in order to realise our full human potential.

The choice of the Ottomans to join the Germans as an ally during WWI was a wrong choice. With the Germans shamed and defeated, inevitably, the Ottoman Empire was dismantled and destroyed, with many of its territories carved up by the greedy imperialistic British. (Please remember that Jordan and Iraq are artificially created states by the British.) As a consequence, the Middle East became a breeding ground for terrorists. Such venomous and deep-seated hatred towards the West can be easily explained: the creation of Israel in 1948 right in the heart of Middle East by the British which is considered an intrusion of a non-Muslim entity in a Muslim land, and the imperialistic ambitions of the French and British.

What choice did Turkey make after WWI?

She became part of an alliance with the British, French and Americans towards the end of WWII.

Her choice enabled her to embark on a path to democratization and modernization instituted by Kemal Atatuk and not risked being destroyed a second time. The end would have been been horrifyingly disastrous for the Turks.

Shame on those who sue MacDonalds because they expanded their waistlines after gobbling down a few fat-laden burgers. These are gluttons who can choose not to be.

Shame on those who consult the starsign charts because they are afraid of the future and cannot decide on a course of action for themselves. Fate does not exist. The future can only be determined by the power of choice which in turn instigates a particular course of action.

Shame on those who think they are ugly when they are not. Self-esteem is at play here.

Shame on those who read this blog and not make the right choice today.

Brian OUT

Captain's Log
Stardate: 15 march 2007
Spacetime: 1.51a.m. (GMT 8)
Spacezone: Alpha Quadrant

Ran into a Romulan warbird. Admired its sleek green hull. Before I could take a picture of it, the ship cloaked. Damn!

My ears are pleasantly soothed by Madonna's CD compilation - Confessions on a Dance Floor. Undeniably, she is the undisputed goddess of modern pop. A self made legend by the virtues of pure diligence and original genius. I have played the album over and over, and I am still as thrilled as when I first ran it.

Seven-of-Nine (in her usual monotonous tone): Is her anatomical, biochemical and physiological systems similar to ours?

Me: (looking quizzed): Yes...of course. She is human.

Seven-of-Nine: Am I scientifically correct to say that she uses her vocal cord to produce sound for human entertainment?

Me (looking calm as usual): Yes. Music, in numerous forms, liberates the soul. You should learn to appreciate the beauty of it.

Seven-of-Nine (head held high): I shall get back to the astrometrics laboratory and resume my duties. Musicology is not within my field of investigation.

Me (sighing deeply inside): Permission granted.

Seven-of-Nine was assimilated by the Borg at a young age when her parents were trailing a Borg Cube at lightspeed in a USS Raven. How sad! If she does not even know how to appreciate an egg, how can she appreciate a cock. As the captain of USS Pork Quiche, it is within my prescribed jurisdiction to assist her in the unlocking of her caged-up humanity.

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