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Just a quick question for all the scientists, physicists and astronomers on my list. Would the following be an accurate hierarchy of our universe?

Planets => Stars => Systems => Galaxy => Universe?

Original entry as appearing at Ink to Screen.

Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz’s original, kick ass, no-holds barred poem can be found here.

Full poem also copied pasted under the cut.

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Original entry as appearing at Ink to Screen.

Cut for senseless ramblings of self.

Read the rest of this entry »

Original entry as appearing at Ink to Screen.

It’s about 5 days into the new year. I’ve missed the end of year and possibly the resolutions memes, I suppose. Since Comic Fiesta 2010, my life’s been turned upside down. Well,not quiteupside down, but more like completely changed.

On December 19, 2010 my grandmother was admitted to the hospital. Barring Christmas, the rest of my year was spent scheduling my time around seeing her in the hospital. Ten days after she was admitted, she passed away. The following one week has thus been spent shuttling self and bro around the funeral parlour and the house. We buried her two days ago and have just finished saying the one week prayers. It’s been a very emotional week for me.

It also brought home the fact that my parents are not getting any younger. Mom and dad are in their 50s; this was about the same age my grandparents went travelling. And I want them to travel. I know both Mom and Dad feel the wanderlust, but they have their own reasons for not jetting off here and there. I feel guilty for not being able to give them the money that allows them to travel.

I also feel guilty for my inability to provide for them. At 26, I should be working full time in a position that at least lets me earn comfortably; enough to send my parents for trips, have my own house and perhaps most importantly, start a family. Nothing brought that fact closer to home for me than my grandmother’s death. It’s not so much that the fact that my grandmother died that hammered the point home, but rather that my grandparents were looking after so many kids shortly after retirement (for grandpa, mama never really had retirement XD).

Most of all, I feel the lack of kids in my life not for my own sake, but for my parents. I know Mom wants some grandkids. She wants someone who’ll love her unconditionally and trustingly as my brother and I did when we were children. I don’t know if I can give that to her, especially since my parents are so opposed to the one I’ve chosen for myself.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t entertain the thought of marrying someone just for the sake of having kids. However, such a thing would make me the worst kind of liar of all. I’d also be a coward for choosing the way out. A hypocrite and someone who cannot love the father of my children would destroy them eventually. I believe this. I’ve seen it happen and I’m determined not to let that happen to my children.

I want time to stop flowing. I want it to just pause in the moment when my parents don’t age and this guilt goes away. That will not happen, so I’ll need to learn to live in this moment and take it as each comes. It’s not something that I can choose, but it’s something I’ll have to learn to deal with.

My uncle spoke during my grandma’s funeral that the theme of her life had been change. Nothing is as constant and as persistent (barring Mama’s love for Mother Mary and the Catholic Church) than change. Change happens, and people will change to meet its challenges.

And really, that’s all I needed to know.

Original entry as appearing at Reach Into Your Soul.

In a nutshell cause I am too high to write more:

This is the definition of Yaoi while Yuri is overrated and then intro self as freelance writer who likes gadgets then get into fight about iPhone vs Android vs Blackberry followed by random info about self and completely flailing at the reading the script part cause I am just so bloody nervous and now here a sad person who spends wayyyyy too much time on Twitter and Facebook.

And done!

Original entry as appearing at Reach Into Your Soul.

Original image taken from Tiara’s blog

This got me thinking while I was talking to Jhameia about why people (read: Caucasian Christians) get so uptight around veiled women. The following proposal is not fully thought out and so may require some fine-tuning?

For me, I feel that part of the reason why the veil threatens such males (and to an extent, the females) so much is that they are confused about the sexuality and “availability” of veiled Muslim women.

For instance, the veiled Christian nun sends a strong message; I am a woman devoted completely to God, and thereby unavailable to you, ever, by virtue of my vows. This means that no one can ever own a nun, because they are owned by God.

A veiled Muslim woman, on the other hand, signifies that she is devoted to her God, but is still available for carnal relations because her veil merely signifies her commitment to God religiously but does not signal her inavailability to marriage. In other words, she confuses the white Male by being both available and unavailable at the same time.

Confused? Here’s another example to tell you to illustrate the point. It’s the same as a woman who goes to a bar, enjoys herself on the dance floor, lets herself be filmed by a camera crew while she’s dancing, and then protesting LOUDLY when her top’s pulled down to show her breasts.

Does that sound fucked up to you? GREAT, BECAUSE IT REALLY DID HAPPEN.

In essence, it is the simple idea that any woman who behaves in a manner that may be deemed “wild” or “disruptive” deserves not only to be oppressed, but also discriminated against. This discrimination need not be overt, but it can be subtle. As subtle as a woman who seems “surprised” that her daughter chose to wear the veil/tudung instead of a bikini.

Edit: With regards to the “oppressed” statement in the picture, and to explain the rest of my entry, when I say oppressed in this context, it is to say that a veiled Muslim woman is an oppressed woman. In other words, she cannot be seen to choose to wear the veil out of her own free will, because most Caucasians (in this context) believe that a Muslim woman dons the veil because she is FORCED/PRESSURED to do so, hence the oppression. The very idea that a woman may CHOOSE to wear the veil because she feels more comfortable in it flies in the face of a lot of people, especially who cannot understand a woman choosing to do something because it is her own choice.

Original entry as appearing at Reach Into Your Soul.

Mysticism, I has it.

The Angel Healing cards, according Doreen Virtue, is supposed to be read in a side to side manner, aka from far left to right. I’ve got what Malaysians colloquially call "itchy hands", which means I can’t leave things as it is, or in this case, I can’t quite obey the instructions.

Or don’t read them well.

In this case, I laid the 5 cards out as though I was doing a partial Celtic Cross spread.

Self was the Harmony card. The first thing that popped out, "Beloved Child of God, you are a peace-lover at heart." Insert as many facepalms as you will here. Yes, I am a peace-lover at heart, but the overall message the cards were telling me was that everything is going to be ok. Let things flow and happen in their own way, in their own time.

Next, I pulled out an upside down Balance card. Right side up, it indicated a need to get balance back into my life. Or rather, with it upside down, it meant that balance was missing in my life. Instincts tell me that this is the current situation card. Where I am right now. My life is unbalanced. The scales are tipped to one side. This child walks in the dark and but misses the joy of the light (yes grammar mistake is deliberate).

Dream, which I associated strongly with going to Japan, was next. Upside down. When I opened my eyes after drawing the cards, I felt my heart break. My question had been simple; would I be going to Japan before the end of 2010? The card said no. Or rather, the dream to go to Japan was broken. In pieces. Writing this out, I’m struck with a sense of rightness. The dream is broken because it was incomplete. In essence, it was not a full application I was submitting to the Universe, but a partial and very sloppily-filled one. It’s time to take some time out and ask myself if this is really what I want to do, and are my fears justified enough for me to feel apprehensive to sabotage myself thus? This is my Challenge card.

"You are worried that your spiritual growth will affect the relationships you have with the people around you." Completely and utterly. This is my fear. If I should become a more spiritual person, one who is in touch with the "magic" and "faith" of the world, would I be shunned? Would I lose the company of people I enjoy? These questions are groundless and useless. All I can do is to have faith, and hope. This was my Fear card.

Be not afraid to love. Love is hate’s undoing. It is the ultimate absolver of sins. The protection of God. The promise made to a child. Angel Sanctuary by Kaori Yuki taught me this. Seeing an upside-down Michael reminds me of the way she portrayed the famous Michael; not as a fully-grown warrior, but a boy who harboured bitterness at his brother. His lesson had been to realise the love he had for his brother.

Throw away the suspicion, the hate shall not be your undoing. Let love wash it away. Have faith that things will turn out for the best. That… is my Lesson card.

Original entry as appearing at Reach Into Your Soul.

And no, guys, you don’t count unless you’re transgender. This is a shoutout to promote the 5th Asian Women Blog Carnival, now open here. The theme for this Carnival is Who I Am When I’m (not) With You.

Submissions close 12 February 2010, so get to it, people!

Original entry as appearing at Reach Into Your Soul.

When I find a friend who has turned away from religion… it usually means that he’s angry. So who were the Christians who made you angry at Christianity?
Rohani to Brian, Muallaf.

The thing about Yasmin Ahmad films is that I usually walk away from them pensive (Gubra). Sad (Sepet). And in some cases, heartbroken (Sepet again). Yasmin Ahmad movies rarely end on a good note, but they are usually slow, gentle journeys that make you ponder, lazing on the river with a random pop in the water you’d expect now and then from the water lifeforms. At the end of such expeditions, I would usually be saddened that it’d come to an end, no matter what the ending was.

Not so with Muallaf.

Muallaf left me feeling that the lazy ride had been a motorboat, with the occasional stop to refuel. It felt fast, was a little monotonous, but ultimately funny and thought-provoking. I squirmed in my seat hearing Rohani say the above quote to Brian. The lines were true. They described me. I could not though, remember what it was that made me stop going for Mass.

Rohana and Rohani were in a world of their own, but not in the self-deluded kind. They were secure in their faith; strong women in their own right. Rohana was a precocious young girl; mischievious yet ultimately looking out for her sister. She spoke when her sister could not, or did not want to. Rohana, the older one, was a woman of strength, and not just because she was raising her sister on her own. She had this firm, unyielding but gentle core of faith.

I envy that.

Brian Yap made me uncomfortable. He’s a pervert, but perhaps not that different from other men I know. He’s an introvert, but I find it hard to excuse his behaviour to his mom, mainly because of the way he speaks to her. If I’m not wrong, he’s also a typical Hokkien Penangite when it comes to money. I admit that I would make Mrs Yap pay the extra RM2, simply because she’s the type who likes to show off.

What made me uncomfortable about Brian is that I am very much like him, spiritually. He’s not going to Church because the so-called Christians humiliated him. I abandoned the Mass service because I could not stand the hypocrisy of my family.

I stopped going to Church because while I believed there was a God, I found it hard to believe that this same God would disallow love between two men. To condemn those who needed Him the most. The same God whose followers killed each other because of self-importance. The very same God who said He gave us free will, yet
demand that we surrender it for a reward that was vague at best. 

It is not God who is on trial though, but our interpretations of Him here.

Yet while Muallaf may come off as preachy to some, I found the film thought-provoking. At the most basic level, it’s a fun film, a typical Yasmin Ahmad film with its share of tender-hearted moments and funny scenes. Scratch the surface and there’s so much more to discover. Muallaf makes me uncomfortable, and for all the right reasons. It makes you think, makes you reexamine what it means to be a Muslim, Christian, a child of faith.

It is a movie of faith.

Muallaf was sponsored by the All Malaysian Bloggers’ Portal. Thanks to Michael and sponsors for the tickets to catch the Gala Premiere last night.

Original entry as appearing at Reach Into Your Soul.

Saiyuki’s For Real (1st anime opening) sounds so different when it’s played on the piano as opposed to the original. It’s wonderfully poignant.

*back to work*

Original entry as appearing at Reach Into Your Soul.