Powerhouse

Summer 09? part 12

2009-08-28T00:00:00.005+08:00

THIS is not the last part. I must say, I am not yet ready to put this summer to a close. However, as an interesting thingy-mobob, I've decided to put this on my blog - a picture that shows the frequency of words used. The larger the words, the greater the frequency. Maybe this shows a little something about me?

Summer 09? part 11

2009-08-12T02:21:00.002+08:00

IT seems almost human nature to desire something out of the ordinary, something new to the senses. But of course, that is only if time allows for it. Or is the lack of time just an illusion, or an excuse to our incapability to make or create time? Those thoughts for later. Anyhow, I got the chance to do something completely out of the ordinary this summer, a time to do something that I’d probably never get the chance to ever do in my life again: prepare my own solo tuba CD lbum.

I don’t remember what got me started in playing the tuba. It all began when a band teacher asked me to switch to the tuba. I got the hook of it soon enough, and got attached to the deep, low sound of the tuba. Four years later, in my freshman year at high school, I told myself that, when the time comes, I’ll produce my own solo album just like the pros have.

For me, it was like a distant, unachievable dream. I knew that I would be so focused in my academics and other areas that I wouldn’t be able to achieve such a feat. Three years later, after intensive persuasion and several months of preparation, I got myself together to produce
one of the biggest projects of my life so far.

There were many aspects of the production I had to consider. The recording and the packaging. Behind both aspects were complicated sets of logistics I had to take care of. For the recording, I needed to contact a pianist, a recording specialist, and a people who could provide me with a studio to record. For the packaging, I needed someone who could take pictures, and the materials to put the albums together. Finding the people wasn’t too big of a challenge. Friends of
friends provided me with the contact details, and so all I had to do was call them up and find the dates, which was a bit of a challenge, considering I had other things to do during the summer.

I first sent emails to two recording companies, one a local studio, and another, a fairly well-known recording group from Canada, based in Hong Kong. The local group first sent me their contact details and their rates. Their prices were fairly reasonable, but because I didn’t
know what the competitive prices were, I decided to wait for the Canadian crew to contact me.

Their response was rather late, by about a week. But because I wasn’t so urgent with getting the recording equipment in order, I wasn’t stressed out to the least. When the response came, he thought that I was from CIS, and told me to use the studio he had set up there. So I
told him I was from HKIS, and he replied,
“Hi Charles,

I'm sorry but I've been confusing the school - I didn't realize you were from HKIS.

Yes I can do mobile recording, and in this case it's pretty straightforward.. laptop, interface, mics; but the problem is the time wasted travelling and set-up/teardown -this would cost another 1-2 hours on top of what you really need.

Let me have a thought about how else to solve your problem - the best thing would be if we were to discuss this (I hate writing) by phone or in person - so call me on 9778-9130.

Cheers,

__________”

It didn’t take me long to pick up the phone to give him a call. I was somewhat excited to get all this sorted out, and I was glad to hear back from him in a short time (for the second email, at least). The phone call lasted a long time. There was a lot of discussion in the sound balance and equipment choice, but I really didn’t remember everything he said. By the end of the discussion, he told me that he would, instead of being hired to set up at the school, rent me the equipment for a low price. He offered to lend me two microphones, a mixer, two mic clips, and two microphone stands all for just $500, a deal which I soon found out, to be either extremely rare or completely unheard of in the music business. Then, he told me to come to his office to pick up the equipment.

The office was in a bit of a sketchy place. If you are a Hong Kong-er, you’d be fairly familiar with the local meat-market smell, which you could detect from miles away. The fatty stench penetrates the olfactory gland, and if you’re out for long enough, stains even the
most de-odorized clothing. Such fragrances were saturated in the air, nauseating most pedestrians passing by the alleyway which lead to the entrance of the building in which the studio was located.

I can’t really say I entered a studio, but rather a store room with various all sorts of audio and video equipment, piled up one on top of the other and topped with some carefully coiled wires tossed here and there. In front of me were some heavy-duty speakers, next to a
dismantled drum set, a few more small speakers, some tough, steel-reinforced cases, and plastic tubs of cables. On my left were a few mic stands and speaker stands, secured with two strips of duct tape. Up near the ceiling were some more cables, bongos and some lighting equipment, hanging from some steel bars. From the left of the room I heard some rock and roll music playing softly, so I called out, “Anyone here?”

The voice which turned the corner of the wall acting as a cupboard for more a/v equipment sounded familiar to the one I heard over the phone—the friendly and welcoming voice with a somewhat impactful edge, an edge only heard by the observant and experienced ear. I followed
the voice into the room, dragging my floor along the dusty tiled floor, to a leather sofa, in front of which the rocking Canadian was working, facing the three computer screens and typing away on a Macbook Pro, which sat in front of another small Macbook. There were wires hanging on the wall to his right, stacks and stacks of records on the left of the sofa, and ice hockey jerseys hanging down in one corner of the room, along with a few medals.

The next three hours in the room wasn’t spent on sorting out equipment, casual conversation, or any other form of wasting time, but simply being educated on the concept of sound. From the simple physics behind the audible energy to the complicated reflective properties and
direction of the waves, I was given a quick 101 to everything I could know about sound, before I even knew it. By the end of the lecture, I was ready to go out and begin my own recording. From everything I knew, I could easily get a few equipment and complete my recording in
a flash. Just before I was about to leave with the gear he promised to lend me, he told me that, because I was one in a hundred people who actually took the initiative to do something he/she wanted to do, he would give me a special price. But, under one condition: to produce
quality music.

With new inspiration and motivation, I walked through Hong Kong’s summer drizzle as I walked for half an hour in search of a nearby MTR station. By that point, I was fairly excited to meet up with the pianists and begin the actual recording, but of course I was very nervous. I never performed well in front of an audience before. How could I possibly produce a good recording?

Nonetheless, the recording went on. We met in our school’s band hall, where a piano was taken apart to release the juicy piano tones and placed strategically to capture enough sound of both instruments. The pianist, a fairly well-known pianist with many years of experience, came well-prepared. We didn’t need much practice, and the pieces really took off as soon as we started.

I can say that overall, the production went really well. There were many aspects of the project which I was unable to cover, due to time constraints. I hope that one day, I will be able to work with these people again in the future.

Best

“Prelude #4 In E Minor, Op. 28/4” composed by Chopin

Summer 09? part 10

2009-08-07T22:50:00.002+08:00

I'll start off with my apologies: Sorry for not writing for a long time. It was a tough week to write, as there were too many things going on at once...nothing bad, rather exciting and completely new. I will write about it in a few...

...today, I have something I want to write about.

I've been trying to write this the last three times I attempted to write this same post, but I could never get the message out the way I wanted to. I write again today in the hopes that I can actually get this written down, and out of my head.

--

Since childhood, I had a small dream that I wanted to change the world for the better. I actually don't really remember why I ended up having such a far-fetched dream. It may be because of my brother bullying me (sissy, I know), or because I've seen too much crap on TV. Wherever or whenever this dream started, the dream never left me, but never outspoke. As I grew up, I soon began to realize that the dream was a silly one, and that continuing to chase an unachievable dream was a waste of time and energy. With such time and energy, I could study and work hard to achieve a better goal in life.

But the dream never left me. Throughout the next few years, I continued to be the person I was; a competitive and egotistic ball of joy (I was chubby then), doing my studies and expanding my creative horizon. Of course, I was still up to my pranks and what not.

As time passed, I was exposed to more of the world and more events which made me reflect on myself and the environment around me. I was still foolish. I had a tendency to categorize and simplify the world around me, partially due to arrogance and the unconscious belief that I was correct. Even if I wasn't, no one could tell me right or wrong, because everything went on in my head. I lived in my own little world, defining the events and characters around me.

It wasn't until I was involved in the student government that my eyes opened to a whole new world. I met new people, faced new challenges, and encountered new ideas. I realized that I was wrong in many ways, but that I could always learn from the situation. So I became a listener, rather than a speaker. I was shy to speak on occasions, yet when the right moment came, I ranted my thoughts and let others know where I stood on things. It was then when I somewhat "matured".

I began to open my eyes to various parts of the world where corruption, greed, hate and envy scourged the land. I learned to realize that people lost their rights to express their thoughts and ideas because others prevented them from doing so. I learned to realize that failing governments and poor policies jeopardized the human ability to reason, be creative and in some cases, even love. I learned that cultures shut down individuals' wills and abilities to be an individual.

I didn't like it. I wanted to change it. And the small dream that I aspired for in my childhood came back to me. I wanted a world where people loved. Where people cherished ideas and creativity, where people accepted each other's individuality and supported each other till the end. Where people strive to be what they wanted to be, not what others wanted them to be. Where people could come together with smiles and leave with smiles, wherever and whenever. I wanted the loving people. The caring people. The individual. The motivated.

Fairly recently, my mother and I went to go jogging (again). It wasn't much of a productive run. Most of the time was spent talking and debating about various topics, like we always do (we argue a lot, but in a good way). We eventually came to talking about corruption and poor methods of education that is present in this world. With a slight temper, I let out everything I had to say, about how greed, envy and feirce competition creates a corrupt government and poor education around the world, burying talent and knowledge possessed by unfortunate individuals all over the world. It was almost like a one-way conversation. I had too much to say, and spoke as if I was fighting against time. Words spilled straight from my brain to the tip of my tongue. And when I had finally stopped, a sudden realization came to me. "What gives me the right to say all this?"

What gives me the right to determine what kind of people should be kept and what kind should be discarded? What gives me the right to say what system is a good system? What gives me the right to judge what kind of character a person possesses? Do I even know enough about myself to say things about others? People talk others into holes to trap them, but I don't think I've ever thought myself into a hole until then. I had realized that I was expecting a lot from the world, but I didn't even know enough about myself to say anything about others. And then something else popped into my head. "Wait. Isn't diversity supposed to be good?"

I was lost for the rest of the night. I couldn't think clearly, and I felt as though I had lost a sense of identity. The dream lives on, and I continue to learn. Whatever the future will bring, still lies a mystery.

"Someday My Prince Will Come" - Manhattan Jazz Orchestra
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hbj9yg71V98

Peace

Summer 09? Part 9

2009-08-02T00:57:00.001+08:00

Summer 09? part 8

2009-07-20T21:56:00.006+08:00

med⋅i⋅ta⋅tion [med-i-tey-shuhn]

devout religious contemplation or spiritual introspection.

Nearly every morning during my school-sponsored trip to India, a teacher advisor invited us, students to an early morning meditation session. The session wasn't too popular, but I and one or two other individuals were there every morning to join the teacher in meditation, on a crow-filled, dust-scented Kolkatan sunrise.

I wasn't new to meditating. When I still fequently participated in weekly kendo practices, each session began with a 3~5 minute meditation session to maintain focus and reach some sort of equilibrium between the mind and the soul to prepare our bodies for practice. Of course, during those early days I didn't really understand the meaning behind those abusive 5 minutes. In my premature mind, I was busy enflaming my furosity to build-up for a duel against my brother, my life-long rival and best friend. But within those 7 days of meditation, or should I say, the first five minutes of the first meditation session, a new and different perspective of meditation sought my attention, which completely changed my attitude towards meditation.

I can't remember everything the teacher taught me, because there was just too much to remember (sorry hay-son). One thing, and perhaps the most important thing that I do remember is that the meditation that I participated in, on my trip to India was primarily focused on blocking out the physical world and connecting with the spiritual. Honestly, I still do not know or understand what connecting with my spiritual self feels like. Although I felt that I had somewhat blocked out the world on previous attempts at meditating, the sound of crows and cars, the heat of the rising sun, the cold sweat, and an aching back tore my concentration apart, enducing pain as I struggled to bring my mind to ease. During the tiresome week, meditation continuously challenged my mind and my soul, keeping my spiritual self alive and active. This may explain my experience of everlasting flow of energy I had, whilst I was sick with a high fever and digestion problems.

I suddenly bring up this topic because of a bad day of working out. A few minutes ago, in the shower immediately after my work out, I could feel an uncomfortable pain in my lower ribs, an extremely fast heart rate and muscle spasms. Concerned about my heart rate, I decided to take some time to sit still and feel my body's involuntary behaviors. After a few deep breaths, I could feel my body relax, but soon began to feel uncomfortable again. So I took to meditation.

As soon as I closed my eyes and began to inhale and exhale, I could feel my body slowly calm down little by little. And then I took it a step further and disconnected myself from my body. It felt funny at first, because I couldn't feel anything. I felt as though I was in space. Newton's laws were scrapped, and I felt as though I was in a world in my head--no laws and theories involved; just me and space. As soon as I opened my eyes, the sound of the shower water flooded back into my ears, and people's voices in the clubhouse's shower room boomed onto my eardrums. When I tried to stand up my legs felt a bit shaky, but my heart felt relaxed and the pains were gone.

The mysteries of meditation still questions my thoughts today.

"Porcelain" by Moby.

PS. Check out Alex Grey's paintings of his Chapel of Sacred Mirrors.

A Sudden Realization

2009-07-19T20:33:00.002+08:00

TODAY, as I sit and listen to the fifth movement of a piece played by our school's wind ensemble titled "the Lord of the Rings" by Johan Meij, I made a realization which would probably change my life forever--that I've been making a big mistake. For all this time, music was a complicated bundle of rhythms and melodies put together to produce a single, beautiful piece of music. Music brings out emotions or even just plain intellectual stimulation. But what I realized out of the blue, is that music is more than music. It is a force.

Scientifically speaking, music is a force. It consists of sound waves creating vibrations and such. But listening to "Hobbits," the fifth movement of Meij's symphony, I realize that the magic music casts on listeners is the force behind it. The beating bass line, even the soaring trumpets, all produce a wave of energy which gently vibrates my bones. Every note, whether it is pianissimo or fortissimo, gently or powerfully sends a wave of sound to the soul, drawing emotions and pumping adrenaline.

Theres so much to this experience which I can't describe. I have only just experienced it, so I don't know what to say or how to describe it... experience it for yourself.

As I will soon record my solo CD, this experience will hopefully change my playing for the better...

"the Lord of the Rings" mvt. 5, "Hobbits" by Johan de Meij.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=96cribKMV0E

A Little Something

2009-07-18T00:35:00.004+08:00

JUST an essay I wrote for someone for something. Enjoy. --

I was really nervous at first, and I really wasn’t ready at all—but my ego told me otherwise. I put down the phone and anxiously picked up my 40-pound tuba and placed it on my lap. The shiny brass of the tuba felt cold on my skin as I angled the mouthpiece of the tuba towards my lips and placed my fingers on the marble-capped valves. Although it had already been the 4th hour of my practice, the tuba suddenly felt cold and heavy, as if it was a foreign object. I rested my warm and worn-out lips on the cold brass to cool it down. Looking at “Concerto in One Movement” by Alexis Lebedev, a highly technical yet melodic piece un-attempted by many, if not most high school tubists, I was shocked by the wide range of notes and complicated rhythms on the sheet.

_____, my mentor and Student Senate advisor, gave me a phone call at approximately 4 pm, to let me know that she was going to listen to me play the tuba. To my surprise, she also brought along the other Senate advisor, _____, an opera enthusiast, or specifically, a fanatic of the Ring cycle by Vaughan Williams. At the time, I was practicing the tuba to prepare three pieces, “Concerto in F Minor” by Vaughan Williams, “Concerto in One Movement” by Alexi Lebedev, and “Suite for Tuba” by Don Haddad, all extremely challenging, college-level pieces. Since freshman year I wanted to put together a solo CD, and so decided to produce it during the summer of my junior year. With less than a few months left, I worked especially hard to not only keep my chops in shape, but to improve my playing on the pieces.

When I first received the phone call from _____, I was extremely nervous. Not only was this the first time I played my solo for an audience, but I also have a tendency to be nervous if I were to play something not prepared to perfection. However, my gut brain pulled me back from resignation and reassured me by reminding me that this was my only chance to shine. Unfortunately, trepidation made me lose my touch on the tuba, as if I had never played the instrument before. The music seemed awfully foreign, and I couldn’t play the first bar of the piece. Then they walked in.

It was the first time they had ever been so close to a tuba before, so I thought I’d explain to them a bit about the tuba. I briefly discussed the history of the instrument, and then went into the technical aspects of how the gargantuan heap of brass tubing makes sounds. After a quick and dirty explanation of the physics and chemistry behind the instrument, _____ and _____ eagerly urged me to play for them the pieces I have been working on. Apprehensively, I picked up the tuba and secured it between my thighs and placed the cold mouthpiece against my lips. I trembled a little, and my mind was shrouded by the thoughts of the consequences that come with poor playing, or the last-minute reminders of where I should crescendo, accent, and worries of correct embouchure, posture, and depth of breathing. In an attempt to rid of the worries of all the details of my playing, I closed my eyes and took a big breath. As soon as the air filled my lungs to the brim, I was reminded of the mellow melody of Lebedev’s composition, as well as the joyful key-change near the end of the piece. Then came to mind the extremely difficult yet powerful cadenza and the ground-shaking low Ab at the end of the piece which brings the piece to a stunning and hair-raising close. As the air exited my body, my mind fell into the moment, and I stopped playing the tuba. Instead, my mind and heart sang the heart-clenching melody through the monster of an instrument, which felt lighter and smaller than ever. In that moment, I was completely possessed by the music, and instead of the difficult music and instrument controlling my freedom, I had taken over every single aspect of the music and the tuba, and made them my own.

I was impatiently waiting for them to call my name, as I nervously twirled my thumbs and stared down at the ground and my shiny black shoes. I kept telling myself that I wasn’t ready. That I didn’t practice the words enough. The lines. The motions. All I wanted to do was get up behind that podium and finish the task as soon as I could. “Up next, our one and only candidate for Chief Presiding Officer, Charles Kim.” The claps and the roar from the crowed echoed in the room. I looked up at the 800 students sitting in wooden bleachers facing the podium from three sides. I stood up and looked at the bleacher in front of me, on the right, and behind. Some shouted my name, and others shouted my logo from last year. A few got up on their feet to cheer me on. There were many faces in the crowd; some were very close friends, some I haven’t seen before. There were a few faces in the gym that looked as if they wanted to leave the gym at the very moment. However, most faces were full of smiles and teeth of various shades of white and yellow captured the light. It was around three years back, after I became a class president, when I told myself that I wanted to make this world a better place to live in. As a pre-mature and thoughtless freshman, I had big dreams. But three years later, I re-dreamt the same dream as I slowly walked up to the podium to deliver my speech on a hopeful future. As soon as the first word left my tongue, I could feel my face heat up as I fiercely delivered my speech as if I had been reading my speech in a fiery discussion.

The two teachers stood up and began to applaud. One flushed and complimented me on my playing as the other wiped a few tears. I slouched on my chair and stared up at the ceiling and took a deep breath. I could feel the adrenalin rattle my spine as I exhaled—it was perhaps the most exhausting performance I have ever done. As soon as I finished, I began to critique at my own playing by recalling the technical errors I made in the piece. But I knew it was more than just the notes which helped me play the piece well. It was the vision, the heart, and the fire inside me, which took control of my body like a foreign spirit, taking me to new heights.

An incomplete piece.

Summer 09? part 7

2009-07-12T02:18:00.002+08:00

As I look back to the first month of summer I spent, I feel as though I have been completely unproductive and inefficient with my time. I've been thinking about this for a while now, since I've come back from the Philippines and was shocked that June had passed by. But why? I do know that I had a blast of a first month of summer--relaxing yet active, a summer anyone could wish for. However, apprehension and anxiety takes over as I count the days till school.

Since I came back from the Philippines, I was struck with the desire, as I have been after other trips, to write about my travels. As the minutes passed, the minutes turned to hours, and hours turned to days as I tried my best to motivate myself to finish that blog post. There was so much to write and I was so excited to write it all, yet I didn't have the motivation, the vital juice to keep me running, or writing for that matter. My mind and attention was dragged in all directions by insignificant bits of media and entertainment which engrossed my focus and siphoned me dry of my creativity and individuality. The flashing rectangles encapsuled me in a bubble of modern entertainment, which brainwashed me--out with individuality, in with pop culture. It seemed like a happy place, until I realized that subtly repetitive (like the family soap opera or the same-story-different-place reality shows) programs were deteriorating my performance. It was like a drug--it began with escapism, then addiction. Until reality hit me.

After I saw the calendar and counted the days, I realized that I had other things in plan to do for the rest of the summer, so I had to get things done and out of the way. I hustled to different tasks, completing one after the other. But inside, I felt completely uncomfortable. It was a weird feeling, which felt as if my guts were being twisted upside-down. Everything I did seemed like it was a wrong thing to do, and then I started to question myself. "Am I doing the right thing?" "Are you sure this is the way to do it?" "What if this doesn't work?" "What I'm doing is bad. I need to do better." Basically, since my return from the Philippines, I've finished the blog post, been working on my recordings for tuba, worked on the summer program, and studied a bit for the upcoming courses and the SATs. There was good motivation behind every time I worked, but it required a lot of it. YouTube had me chained up in its devious trickery of the "Related Videos" links, and mastering the technicalities behind the perfect consecutive head-shot in Counter Strike was an enticing dream. And with this continuous build-up of tension as the days pass and the first assembly draws near, the need to work well, fast puts the pressure on, creating room for potential inefficiency in my performance.

"Breathe" is what my mentor tells me whenever I am stressed, or just too hyped up with a brilliant idea. I need to breathe. Get back into this world. Get back into my own head. Breathe.

Hoooooh, haaaaaa.

"OK, You're Right" by 50 Cent

Summer 09? part 6.5

2009-07-11T01:17:00.003+08:00

Today, I am in no place to write... to many thoughts, I have confused myself and answered my own questions. Will write more tomorrow.

Summer 09? part 6

2009-07-10T00:29:00.004+08:00

Forgive me for my poor posting in the past week or so. Since I came back from Philippines, I spent all the little focus and energy I had on finishing off the blog entry on my trip to the Phils (http://postflightmag.blogspot.com). There was quite a lot to write about the trip, and I really just had to make up for missing out on that one week of posting. The trip was a good place to reflect--away from the hustle and bustle of the city life.

Having been involved in some labor for the upcoming summer program, Youth Leadership Program, and some academics, I haven't really gotten the time to nurture my noodles. A lot of the time I was just moving my fingers, applying repetitive patterns running in my head to tedious tasks awaiting completion. However from time to time, my intellectual curiosity has been tickled by the occasional thought-provoking RSS feed.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/asia-pacific/8140492.stm

"What's next, China?"

A few months back, I can't remember whether it was on an essay or through discussion, but I mentioned that the Chinese government's near-forceful attempt to unify a country of a million identities, through subtle totalitarianistic means is just like building a house of cards outdoors. You can build the house as big as you can, but you never know when the wind will blow--when it does, it'll crash like none other. What will China do to not only maintain its national integrity but also accept all the cultures which may not be culturally and economically similar to that of Beijing-ers, Shanghai-ers or other big cities?

I do not wish to comment further on that incident, because not only do I not know much about the event, but I also don't want to base any judgements on my lack of knowledge of information from all sides of the picture.

The night is late, and so I will wrap it up for today. Again, forgive me for these short posts! As the workload piles, it'll be harder to write...

Best,

"Call Up The Homies (Co-Starring The Game and Willy Northpole)" by Ludacris

Philippines Update

2009-07-08T02:21:00.001+08:00

The post on PostFlightMag on the Philippines trip is finally up! It took quite the perseverence to finish the long reflection... enjoy!

http://postflightmag.blogspot.com

"Lovefool" by the Cardigans

Philippines

2009-07-05T20:34:00.004+08:00

OK, so I'm back in Hong Kong. And there was a lot of thinking to do.

I'm trying to write all my thoughts about the trip on my blog, http://postflightmag.blogspot.com , so check that out... will post asap.

Peace

"Honesty" - Kaskade

Phils!

2009-06-29T06:53:00.001+08:00

GONE to the Philippines! Will update in a week.

Rant

2009-06-26T01:08:00.002+08:00

SO I went jogging with my mother today, which is pretty rare. We used to go running together often, but because of poorly matching schedules, we haven't run together in a while. So we ran, and usually we end up talking for the last 30 minutes or so, about issues, personal or political. Today, we talked politics.

At one point in our conversation, we were talking about the Korean government. The Korean government is notorious for its corruption and poor judgement on sensitive issues. Well it has been, until the new one. I haven't been keeping up to the current president's actions, so I don't know much about him. However, I do know that in the past, there were serious issues with corruption and unethical politics with the Korean government. And usually, the first thing I blame is the education system.

The Korean education system is pretty well known for its competitiveness and discipline. Students are educated like a cookie cutter, to be strong on academics, enter a big name college, and become successful. Similar to Gatsby, Koreans are learning the academics behind success, but not the values and ethics we need as people. So I said to my mother, that the Korean education system needs to focus more on ethics and values, rather than just academics and the road to success, if we want to step out of this heartless race to success.

"You see, Koreans don't have the leisure to learn that kind of stuff."

"What? Since when were ethics and morals a leisure?"

I couldn't believe what she said. How could such important values of life be a leisure? Have we forgotten that we were a part of a civilized society of human beings; social animals with more than just primordial instincts of survival? Since when have we become so desperate for survival that we have lost our humanity? Are we actually fighting for life and death, or are we just desperate for financial security? It seemed as we have become animals, living a life on the edge, gnawing at what we can get to live another day.

Can't promoting and supporting moral and ethical values help strengthen the economy? With a little more equity, businesses could be funded to strengthen industries, and talents could blossom with greater investment towards underprivileged individuals. Governments could rise with a strong foundation of a clean and ethical administration. Most importantly, people could live happier lives with better values to live for.

But as we know, it is nearly impossible to change the culture of a society over night. Many Koreans blindly aspire for short-term accomplishments. Because of the unquenchable thirst for financial security, many Koreans demand a tangible and immediate asset of some sort, as proof of their finances; grades, payrolls, colleges, job titles, etc. The economy needs every dollar it can earn to maximize their profits, in spite of those who may be able to use that dollar very efficiently. In fact, Micro Economics 101 teaches scarcity, the limited availability of resources, and profit maximization in the first day of classes. Caring for our ethics and morals hinders economical development for many firms in the short run by increasing the opportunity cost, which results in their turning down by firms. And because many Koreans can't afford to lose a dollar in this extremely unstable market, morals and ethics end up becoming a 'leisure', something you strive for after you have earned your money. It is quite a sick world, but got to survive...

Summer 09? part 5

2009-06-25T20:38:00.004+08:00

TODAY, I was able to talk to a teacher of mine, who was cleaning out his office before he left for his summer break. The man is quite a character. Not only is he amiable, but he also has an incomparable passion for opera, literature, and sociology. He has helped me through some of the problems I faced in the Senate, and has provided me with supportive advice to keep me energized through tough times.

As he cleaned out his old files from one of many file cabinets, he took out a thick stack of papers, stapled together on one corner. The front page of the small booklet had writing all over it, and the yellowish paper was bordered with sun-stained edges, due to the old age and exposure to sunlight. On the center of the front cover of the packet read, “A Modern Myth: the Meaning of Star Wars” in an old typewriter font. On the bottom right corner of the front cover read,

“Chris Allen Zurheide

Senior Thesis

Mr. Joseph Gleich, Advisor

February 1985.”

As the teacher explained, the thick, 73-page essay was written by an ex-student of his, back when he taught at a high school in St. Louis. The writing, which was written by Zurheide, a person the teacher described as “a man ahead of his time,” was soon published.

I exclaimed, “wow. This is some amazing stuff. But the fact that he actually wrote 73 pages worth of stuff amazes me.” I can say that the teacher, though with carefully chosen words and a conciliatory tone of voice, makes strong stances in the opinions he chooses to publicize. As soon as I made that statement, he put a face; not a nasty one, but one that he usually puts on which shows his discontent and desire to speak, as if he were about to explode with words.

He then began telling a story. He talked about his mentor, and one of his works, which was about how civilization interacts with technology. He explained that we can either end up using technology, or be used by it. He brought up Plato and Aristotle, two revolutionary thinkers of the past. According to him, Plato once denounced the written language (using one of his writings) as a form of technology—an invention to better satisfy our needs—which turned us into lazy people who couldn’t think things through, or remember things. In a sense, Plato was right. The written language is used as a tool to keep ourselves organized, to efficiently send messages through to others without having to forget them (in fact, I’m writing this blog to jot down all my thoughts and ideas so I won’t have to lose them in the near future.) It is a tool to cover up the things we lack. We learn to write to make up for our incapability to memorize things and organize ourselves with our own thoughts. The same goes with weapons. We made weapons because we just couldn’t take animals down with our own hands. It was an easy way out from having to work out and improve strength and fitness—a short-term solution. Then he jumped to the future. He mentioned the movie Terminator 2, and recalled to a scene in the movie where the main character, a boy, who is protected by a cyborg from the future, states that the cyborg was the “best father [he’s] ever had.” With continuous development in technology, people are either enslaved by the technology, or use it. Those who use it, for example, modern people who mastered the computers, have a significant advantage over those who cannot adjust to the technological advancements, who are trapped in a struggle to use the available technology, caused by their incapability to take advantage of such accomplishments made by mankind. With such changes in lifestyle, people in the modern world develop a completely new consciousness, which separates them from the “people of the past.” By mentioning this, I guess his point was that we forget and lose the values of the past, such as quality writing, and in the days of Plato, brainwork and memorization.

This made me think. If people struggle to accept technology and values were lost, why do people continue to make technological advancements? My guess is, efficiency. In this profit-maximizing community, every second counts. So we came up with devices, through which we can communicate faster, transfer information faster, and hold more information at a time. We even came up with tools to please ourselves faster and better, to enjoy ourselves more in a short amount of time. As my teacher mentioned, originally there was never such a thing called time. Time was man-made. Ever since people put a value to the years, months, days minutes and seconds, we became critical to how much time we used, and how much wasn’t. We started to put a value to everything, from how much you could accomplish, to how much you were worth. Productivity became the catchphrase of the era, as people found ways to accomplish the most in the least amount of time.

But as technology strives onward, people fall behind. There are always those who struggle to catch up with the developing world. And there are those who reject it. And society splits. There are those who master the technology and become extremely efficient, where there are those who cannot, and so fall back in the race against time. The advancing half of the world may continue to become extremely efficient in its tasks, but is it okay if the others are left behind? Should we, as a global society, choose efficiency or equity? Or is it simply a difference in opinion which causes people to split in to different directions? As a history teacher once told me, there are always those in a society who will reject the majority and “fall behind.” Is there even a solution to unify our differences, or is it a nature of mankind we must live with?

The world is changing. Rationalized thinking is overcoming blind adherence to social norms, as we begin to realize that ethics and morals are what we need to prevent our economy and environment to fall on itself like a house of cards. The teacher showed me a book, written by an ex-dean at Harvard, about how heartless economics is not what we need at Wall Street today. Current technological developments are directed towards energy efficiency and cost reduction. Micro-economies are forming to help those in need. As the teacher said “the big guys aren’t in charge anymore. It’s the small fries making the difference.”

I personally do not believe in a right or wrong. The world, as I see it, is continuing to find the balance between efficiency and equity, modern and traditional, introvert and extrovert, good and bad, etc etc… but most importantly, need and want. In between each, is a thin line which I believe is defined as maturity; a word which is redefined every era, every generation, every year, and every second.

God knows where this planet heads on next. But whatever the case, I hope its people will come together with rationalized thinking to support everyone in the global community—something which is virtually impossible. But hey, impossible is nothing. Well, that’s what my favorite clothing brand says.

Well, as long as everyone is happy, right?

“L'amour Ne Dure Pas Toujours” - Feist

Summer 09? part 4

2009-06-25T02:24:00.001+08:00

UPDATED a travel log on my other blog... part of my summer adventures.

Check it out at postflightmag.blogspot.com

Peace

Sir Edward Elgar's Cello Concerto in E Minor, Op. 85. Played by Yo Yo Ma.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RM9DPfp7-Ck

Bad Day

2009-06-23T22:26:00.003+08:00

FOR me, its hard to talk about myself in a bad way. Maybe it's my being raised in a somewhat judgemental culture that has made me so self-conscious, or its hereditary; but whatever the case, I do not tend to denounce myself. This does not mean that I lack bad things to talk about. I have plenty, its just that I find it somewhat uncomfortable having others listen to my trials and tribulations.

But this one, I feel like telling, because its worth telling.

As a few have noticed, I've been having a few bad days lately. I wasn't furious or angry or anything, just lightly melancholy. I honestly didn't know why. The summer started out with a blast, and there were just so many things to do. I went here and there to try out new things, with a strong desire to not only challenge myself, but to learn. Then it all crashed. One day, I woke up with a crap mood. I didn't know it or show it, until a few hours later, when I sat in my room and stared at the pile of rubbish on my bed, I felt like I had lost the desire to do anything. Something was missing in my life, but I didn't know what. I tried to figure out what it was, but I couldn't not get it. I thought it was because I had too many things going on in my life, and so things kind of collapsed on itself. So I tried cleaning out my workspace, my time, and pretty much my life. I cleared out my room and re-organized it, organized all my summer tasks by priority and with a calendar, and fixed myself a work out plan to stick to a schedule. But it wasn't it. It didn't satisfy.

And today I went out to meet a friend. She's quite a talkative character, someone who you'd love to listen to, then wouldn't mind listen to, and then couldn't bear listen to (no offense or anything, she's quite a character and a brilliant girl). But she and I would usually talk about issues, whatever they be, into extreme depths. Seeing as to how much we both enjoy talking, we could get a conversation going for hours on end. However, for some reason, I couldn't. Words didn't come out of my mouth, but rather floated around in my head. It was somewhat annoying, how I couldn't grasp words to construct ideas through speech, something I would ususally do as second nature. Which lead to my conclusion that all this mental stress and depression was caused by one thing--lack of speech.

Due to reasons, I have not been able to communicate frequently with a very close friend of mine, someone with whom I would converse with, day-in and day-out. That friend was a listener of all my problems and accomplishments, someone who I could boast and confess to. With that friend gone, I didn't have a listener...in other words, I didn't have another close friend I could talk to, which is somewhat sad (sad as in loser-ish).

At first I didn't believe such an explanation to my depressed state of mind. Since childhood I was an introvert; I could lock myself in a pure white room and I would be entertained for years. I was always a big thinker. Things rarely left my internal thinking complex, as I pondered upon the meaning of life and other big questions humanity asks itself. Of course, I wouldn't get anywhere, but the process of thinking intellectually stimulated me.

I never thought about this until now, but I think my environment nurtured me to become an extrovert. My brother is a big extrovert, as is my father. My mother and I on the other hand, tend to be shrouded in our thoughts, unless we are with those whom we have a close relationship with. However, I have been frequently involved in many disciplines which require a lot of communications and relationship-building. My hypothesis is that, due to involvement in a plethora of team activities and communications, I have become a bit of an extrovert, one who expresses his mind through his actions.

I cannot say that one is better than the other. The extrovert has the unique ability to communicate, and to relate with other people. He/she can connect with others, which may build relationships that may last a lifetime. The introvert, in his/her mind, has an abyss of thoughts, for most of his/her thoughts are kept in his/her head, and analyzed, twisted, turned, and poked at in a million different ways. If one can become a little bit of the two, one may have a slight advantage over others.

However, having this one frend felt as if I have turned from an introvert to an extrovert. Or, the friend had become my other introvert self. In any case, I had temporarily lost the friend who would listen to my life, and the lack of opportunity to speak my mind imprisoned me in my own world, where my voice was closed shut to myself.

The feeling of the absence of a portion of my life haunted me, which did not go as far as to bringing to me the fear of death, but rather slowly deteriorated my moral as I tried to commence my daily activities.

And I had to step out.

I went for a run, and though a million thoughts distorted my focus and brought forth unwanted anxiety to inhibit my progress, I bit my lip and pushed onwards, as I fought against the distractions that gnawed at my temper. I set my mind apart from the small yet obnoxious details of my life to the big picture goal, which not only encompassed all the bothersome details, but also set me on a direction. The world didn't turn into Kansas just yet, but I can say that I have met the wizard. Things are slowly getting better as I put a positive twist to my perspective.

At this moment, I write this as I hope that sleep will bring a happier day to live for. As I have noticed in the past, the rest of day's success pretty much depends on how the morning begins. On my bed post is a post-it note I stuck way back. Written on it, is a quote from one of the most influential characters of my life.

"Its a good day to be alive."

"Run" by Gnarls Barkley

Summer 09? part 3.5

2009-06-23T00:20:00.003+08:00

I is cleaning room! I'm taking everything out of my room and re-organizing everything; its an annual project. So, unfortunately I won't have the time to write, or I'll not be getting sleep tonight.

Thought for the day: why do people have different ways of organizing themselves? Why do some people like organization, while others don't?

All the best

The Thirsty Traveller

2009-06-21T22:23:00.003+08:00

THIS post is dedicated to four brave friends, who will be travelling to Europe this week.

When I was a child, I never liked travelling. I loved sitting on the couch, laying on the bed, or doodling in my book. If I got on the plane, the train or the bus, I got sick, tired, and wanted to go home. It was too uncomfortable for me to change, step out of the house, and meet new people. I hated meeting new people. I had to step out of my comfort zone. I had to talk about myself. I had to be nice-guy. I was too lazy. I was too tired. But I loved the outdoors. I loved seeing and learning about new things. Experiencing new places. Breathing new atmospheres. Eating different foods. Stimulating my mind.

So I had to change.

I had to change myself to satisfy my thirst for the real world. So I stepped out. I pushed myself off the edge so that I can listen to one's voice. Hear about new places. See new faces. I pushed myself off the edge so that I can step into new grounds. Breath the scent of a new world. Live in a different environment. And I changed.

I once told a brilliant soul, close friend of mine, that I don't believe in endings. When you leave things behind, you are physically away from them. But every single experience is absorbed like a sponge, similar to the mind of a young child, to make up who you are. Every voice you hear, character you face, experience you experience, sticks onto you like clay, to add on to your character. They are carried around with you till the rest of your life, as a part of you, as a part of your character and identity.

I've never been to Europe, but I dream of going there one day. I've only been to less than a tenth of one continent, but I am still proud. However you, who get the chance to tour a magnificent continent in ONE summer, I am envious of. So I ask for one wish. Please, go to wherever you travel, and spend every single minute and second experiencing the country. Smell the air. Feel the soil. Listen to the people, the cars, the birds. Taste the water. Throw their rocks. Whatever it may be, live the country, and absorb the continent; experience the country from its structures to its soul.

From the wonderful experience which lay ahead of you, you will learn many things. They will become a part of who you are, what you are, and what you believe and love. Indulge yourself in their custom. Their culture. Their people. Their world. If you change, we'll know that it was Europe who did it. If you don't, no matter. But in any case, bring Europe to your heart and soul. And live it. As I may have said before, wherever you are, human beings are still human beings, the values of life are still the values of life, and you are still you. Live what you've learned from your trip, and share those values with others. It is all a learning experience that travelling offers... cherish it.

Please stay safe, and enjoy your trip.

Best

PS, track their movements on twitter: http://twitter.com/FLATeurotrip

A Birthday Phonecall

2009-06-20T01:14:00.006+08:00

UNEXPECTEDLY, I received a phone call from a somewhat disconnected friend, someone who I can say that I love deeply, as a friend of course (because I realize that I will be protecting information quite often, I will put a short "H.I" next to the false topic to warn you). She called me to wish me happy birthday, something I don't get too often, as I'm not a big celebrator of birthdays. Although I'm sure that she planned for a quick "hello, goodbye", the conversation dragged on, as we contemplated on the meaning of life and discussed the nature of the human mind (joke).

At one point in time, we were very close. We talked through many things together, problems and such, and we supported each other during hard times, etc. She was always top notch in her academics, and is an extremely talented stunt dog trainer (H.I.). She told me that she was facing a crossroad in her life. Troubles, she meant, were getting to her, and she was really in just a shit position.

During our conversation, many issues came up. But just to give you the scenario of the issues, she's egotistic. She's ambitious and has her dreams, but also wants to have fun. According to her, she's totally badass. Her parents on the other hand, are just like her, except for the 'fun' and the 'badass' part. Summer's just begun, but she can't have fun. Theres always issues such as SATs, GPA and parents who hang over her head 24/7. But of course, she finishes all her work and gets good grades...or is believed to.

So we talked. She's concerned, she says. She chose academics over her friends, but now her social life is down, and academics are down too. Whenever she tries to work, she tries to socialize. And its all a pain. At that moment, I did a spit-fire improv on the spot, a GGNORE moment. I said, "dude. I want to be candid here. You know I only roll with honesty, so let me tell you the truth, about what I feel about you. And of course, no offfense intended". "Uh sure," she hesitantly replied. "Sometimes when I think about the things you do, I feel that your life is extremely structured. A good analogy would be a path. You live a path for life. Its like, theres a goal, but then theres a path. Like any road you could imagine, its very orderly. Its straight, or maybe a little bendy, but goes straight to the goal. What is the goal? Whatever you want it to be. You said success. I say happiness. But a goal is a goal. I don't want to dictate what you should do and how you should live your life, but lemme say what I feel about this. I feel that a goal is a good thing. In fact, I believe that everyone should have a goal to achieve in life, whatever it may be. But I strongly disagree that someone should take a single path to achieve that goal. Think about it this way. Imagine you have a grid. Lets say that the origin is A1. And that your goal is Z26. And you want to get from A1 to Z26. How would you do it? Theres a million ways to get to that goal. However, you choose to take one single path. Honestly, its not a bad thing. Its organized. Its focused. However, it must stay that way. You can't look back. You can't look around. By look back, I mean reminiscing the good days and wishing you had made a different decision in your life. By looking around, I mean comparing yourself to others. To take a path and succeed, you must be completely focused on the goal ahead of you, and keep your life under your grip. If you can really get the ball rolling till the end, you'll succeed. And you'll succeed fast, and satisfyingly. However if you can't maintain your work ethics till the very end, the chances that you'll fail are extremely high. Its like setting up your future education in highschool. Planned education is great in that, if you can follow with it, you'll be ahead of the game, and on full throttle to your desired destination. If you can't keep up to it and change your mind or give up the challenge, you'll fall much further behind, and experience some tough trials and tribulations. Honestly, I hope you could avoid having to build that road for the next 30 some years of your life. Be creative. Be flexible. Learn to accept new things and new challenges. It will not only give you various paths to work with, but it'll also give you a broader perspective on the opportunities available for you. You've got talent and the charm, and I'm sure you'll be able to succeed if you have that flexibility."

There was a slight pause in the conversation; a sign that my message got through. I did in fact talk too much and too fast. I was slightly afraid that I may have force fed her with tmi. "You keep saying that people have talent. And that we're the best class ever. Are you serious when you say that?" Its a question I have been faced with, ever since I entitled our class of 2010, the "best class ever" during my campaign speech back in 8th grade. I never had an answer for that, except this time, something clicked in my head. "Something interesting I read in National Geographic the other day. So there's this parrot. His name is Alex, and he recently died at 30 something years old. Seriously, this is the most amazing parrot I've ever seen, in the sense that this guy reacts to things. If you spray him with water, he'll kwak, "SHOWER SHOWER". If you confront him with two keys, one blue and one yellow, and ask him "how many", he'll go, "TWO TWO". Ask him what the difference is, and he'll go, "COLOR". If you present to him combinations of colored letters and the yellow letters happened to spell 'or', and ask which one is yellow, he'll say "OR". Basically, the reasoning behind this is that, as the owner/professor explains, a parrot's brain develops similar to a human baby's. So, through teaching the parrot various things when he was young, the parrot was able to develop tremendously, earning the title, "genius parrot." In a way, there is no nature or nurture, but rather a nature and nurture. The nature nurtures the nurture, and the nurture nurtures the nature. In other words, everyone in our class each has a brain. A brain can develop tremendously, if nurtured with the correct education and values. In other words, talent is everywhere. Every single individual has the potential to become a talented individual--all he/she needs is the opportunity." I have a tendancy to be sensetive to things that are happening around me. At this point, I realized that I was talking too much, not allowing her to respond. Honestly, I didn't care too much about her side of the picture at the moment. I heard and know her point ov view enough, and so I took the chance to kinda rant out my thoughts.
The conversation kinda jumped from here to there, from topic to topic. But regardless, it was quite enjoyable. I hadn't talked to her in a while, so it was almost relaxing. "Dude. You need to relax for a moment. Get outside, enjoy the people. And chill down on all the work and your furious dog training." "I can't. I'm too busy. Theres too many things to do. And when I do them, I get too stressed. It screwes up with my performance." Then again, my mind exploded and went on auto-fire. "Why are you getting stressed? Don't get stressed. It doesn't help. I understand that it may be hard to just rid of all your stress, but you need to work on it. In the world today, being un-stressed is not a personality, but a skill. During the hardest of times, you need to be able to return focus on what you are doing, and look at the big picture of your task. For example, look at people such as Kobe Bryant, Tiger Woods, and maybe even Federer. These guys, when they are under extreme stress, they can only do one thing--play better. They focus harder on the goals, and shoot more, hit further, and ace more. You see, I've had this anxiety thing for quite a while. When I am under a somewhat tough situation, I start to think. When I run, which is obviously a hard task for a guy of such physique, I have a tendancy to panic. Is my heart rate okay? How fast am I breathing? Is my ankle turning right when I run? Am I stepping too hard? Then I screw up. My heart rate increases due to anxiety, and then I focus on the wrong things. When I focus on a specific area of my body, I tend to use more of it. If I think too much about how my ankle turns, it'll turn harder. About my breathing, it'll breathe harder. Its like getting a mosquito bite. If you get one and you keep thinking about how much it itches, your brain will focus, or receive more signals from that specific area, warning you that you need to scratch that moth** f*****. Then you'll go nuts, and scratch that mfker like a b****. But if you stop thinking about it, focus on something else, like pink elephants, your brain will focus less on the mosquito bite, and so focus on receiving more signals from the creativity sector of your brain, causing you to receive less signals from the bite, causing it to itch less. Relate that to life. If you focus and stress on one thing too much, you'll forget about the rest. You focus too much on math, you'll forget about your english, history, art, whatever. When you're solving a math problem and you focus too much on one part of the equation, you'll forget about the equation as a whole. Keep your focus. Always keep your goals in mind, and keep track of where you were from, where you are, and where you want to go. And never be anxious. Its a waste of precious time and energy."

I'm not sure if what I said was completely true, or beneficial in any way. But I do hope that she'll consider what I've said and live a happy life. I'm not saying to listen to what I say. Its my way of looking at life. And personally, I think its pretty good. If you don't like it, just make sure you're happy.

If you happy, I be happy.

"HARDER BETTER FASTER STRONGER" by Daft Punk, at Alive 2007. Link of the show below.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oGECJP3phyY

Cheers

Summer 09? part 3

2009-06-19T01:19:00.009+08:00

THERE comes a time in everyone's (or most, for that matter) life when we must go through the awful CV and interview process to be selected into perhaps the most awful or even exciting aspect of your life; the occupation. It usually comes during mid-life, after you get the education you need to handle whatever job you are involved in. Or that's the theory behind it. Tomorrow, I get a first-hand experience of applying/being interviewed for a job at the Hong Kong Science Park Career and Internship Recruitment Day. Although the term "Science Park" gives people an impression that the event is one huge nerd fest, the event is actually a 'Talent Pool Platform' run by the Hong Kong Science and Technology Parks to allow people of all ages and skills to apply and interview for a job available to them at the fair. Of course, the jobs are mainly related to science and technology, areas in which my interest lies. And as I have seen in the jobs data base, there are many open slots available for people of all levels of education and skills. Why am I going? To attend some of their seminars and listen to some presentations on the types of jobs they offer and etc. It will be a good experience, but I can't say that I will be accepted, or will accept any offers.

Silly of me, I have only realized this morning that I needed to work on my CV. Luckily, this afternoon, I was going to meet up with a close friend of mine (not really sure how to describe the relationship), who is a consultant of leadership and management to corporates. He runs an institute which decided to run a summer program during the next month of summer, which he asked me to help play a part in running. So to discuss some of the material, we met, and I happen to mention to him the Recruitment Day at the HKSTP. He gave me some documents to help me with my CV writing and interview preparation, which I hope, will help me get through the long day tomorrow.

The man, who I will refer to as Bill from now on (for the sake of the protection of his identity), first met with me through a close friend and teacher of mine, Ms. Smith (again, an alias). Bill was extremely helpful to the student government I am actively involved in, by being a consultant on leadership strategies and development. He has always been a great help, from simple advice to professional consultation, and of course, the connections. Even though he has helped me a lot with making the student government (called Student Senate in our school) a stronger and more efficient team, it seems to always be a challenge to make the Senate a respectable and beneficial body of students. Although it is common for a governing body to be criticized, it is difficult to work with a body of students which a majority criticize and have negative impressions on the working group.

"The Senate is a f*****g tool," and "they're just doing it for their college apps" are common phrases I hear from members of the student body. It is infact something that I saw to be problematic three years ago, when I first began to work with the Senate. Back then I was the 'underdog', and so looked up at the Senate as the epitome of leadership and talents. Unfortunately, I was wrong. Not in the sense that it was never a strong working group full of talents, but that they didn't take advantage of their positions to do what they can; lead the people. I can say that the last three years was somewhat experimental. I was a learner, and always will be, on the relationships between people and how they work in management and leadership. As I put a close to my third year in the student government, I continue to reflect and learn about teamwork and utilization of talents that seem to be ubiquitous in people.

Theres a lot I want to say about the Senate. There are many tedious political issues that Senate faces, as a governing body of students. However, due to confidentiality, I will not write about it in this blog. Whatever needs to be reported, the Senate will decide and publicize. However, one of the biggest issues that the Senate, as well as many administrative bodies, face is the integrity of the members. Are the members of the Senate legitametly working to develop and strengthen the student life, with a passion? I can't say that every memeber in the Senate works with a flaming passion for leadership and service to the people, nor can I say that about people who have worked in it for the past. People tend to lie about their personal thoughts because of a poor intention or simply because they aren't sure where their hearts stand. But whatever the case, I can say that, without the support of the constituents, it is hard to work or accomplish any task. Some have described me as a power-hungry dictator... but when you work in the senate, you realize, as I have, that all the power you have, are given by the people. Without support, you cannot defend or execute your visions. Although I do not wish to make this reference, this is why people such as Hitler and Mao have been such great leaders. They were able to inspire a people and allow their visions to prevail. Unfortunately, corruption got their asses. In the case of the Senate, we have, and are trying to achieve a dream which is somewhat far-fetched and "metaphysical" (ha ha.). It was so out in space that members of the Senate began to drop the vision, which broke the Senate apart. However, we're coming back this year with a bang, to achieve that vision we dreamed of. We have the talent, the skill and a strong working group to accomplish the task. However, we are missing one critical building block of success which makes us near useless: the support of the people. It is easy for anybody to criticize someone and question his or her motives; however it is an obnoxiously difficult challenge to learn to sympathize and support one's cause. As the Senate continues where last year's group left off, we take on a difficult challenge to shift the culture and make an impact on the lives of many. To the Senators, I wish good luck.

When I began writing this blog, I didn't want to restrict myself to what I will say in my blog. However, I'm extremely sorry that I had to make this exception with the Senate. The people will determine what they perceive of the Senate will determine what they want the people to perceive. And of course, regardless of whether I am a leader of the Senate, I have no authority, nor wish to attain any. I only wish the Senate luck and success in the near future.

To all the visionaries of today, lead with strength and passion. God bless.
To all the followers of today, be nice.

Peace

PS. Track of the day, 'Canned Heat (Calvin Harris Remix)' by Jamiroquai

Powerhouse?

2009-06-18T00:40:00.003+08:00

POWERHOUSE. I realize I have never explained why I have come to entitle the blog with such an obnoxiously arrogant title. When I say 'Powerhouse', I speak of something from which many things are created. "_Subject_ is a Powerhouse of _noun_" generally means that the subject excels at, or is able to produce a lot of the noun. I am not a genius, nor am I some magical creator of wisdom. I guess the thing was just a joke, esoteric to just... me.

For this summer, on February, I signed up for a summer program at the Hong Kong University of Science and Technology. The program is designed for 'Talented Youth'; how they assess an individuals talents through grades, resume and individual essay I do not know, but regardless of its flawed processes, the hot campus earned itself brownie points in my book. The place has some of the world's top professors and programs, which immediately got my attention. So, I signed up. I filled up the resume with anything I thought I had done, requested my transcript from my counsellors, and went through a short interview so that I can get a good teacher's recommendation from my guidance counsellor. And of course, the essay. I hate writing about myself. It is not only extremely awkward talking first person in a third person manner, but if I'm trying to write to get accepted into some appointed position, theres no way I'm gonna avoid boasting about how good I am at this or that. Whenever I face an essay application for a selective position for any institute, I freak out and start spitting out loads of crap at semi-automatic.

I elevated my intellectual status so much in this essay to the point where I called myself the "Powerhouse of Creativity". I guess all I wanted to say was that I was a creative guy and could offer different points of view on various subject matter, which mis-translated in my idiotic ESOL mind and was spat out of my mouth as "I am the next Michaelangelo, Da Vinci and Van Gough put together". It was perhaps the most arrogant and biggest bull sh*t I've said in my life. If you thought that was funny, I got accepted into the damned program. Thats epic. The first thought I had when I got that letter of acceptance was, "I can't believe they fell for that". So I half dedicate the title to the rediculous moment of my life, and half dedicate it to what I hope it to be--a full, complete and major puke-age of my brain to the rest of the world.

So, I dub thee Powerhouse.

PS. Unfortunately, due to the Swine epidemic, the summer program was cancelled. Too bad they didn't get a taste of this Powerhouse, which I'm sure, they were so waiting for. I guess I got lucky this time.
PPS. For today/tonight, "N.A.S.A" by Futurecop!. Enjoy.

Summer 09? part 2

2009-06-16T20:56:00.000+08:00

LAST night, as I put a clean and tidy close to my first post, I realized that I forgot to add an important point. I talked about how I was a person of initiatives--no initiative, no action. However, there are some things in this world that make me do things without an initiative. Or maybe, the initiative itself is happiness and fulfillment. One of those valuables of my life is, as most may know, music.

Music comes in many forms. Classic, jazz, rock, Rhythm and Blues, waltz, and so on, are all very unique types of music which people listen to every day. They frequently appear in adverts, and sometimes form complimentary relationships with the images and or messages shown on the screen. They covertly seep into your ears and resonate your eardrums as you converse in a homey, dim-lighted restaurant. They lift and rattle your life as you pick up the beat in a club. In any case, music has one universal similarity--they come from the soul. Music carries a message; an emotion, thought, idea, reflection, and/or anything else present in the physical mind. As I have mentioned before, similar to music is the human language, an artform (in my eyes) which helps us external-ize our internal self (woah.).
Its weird for me to say, but I'm glad I met music in my life. It not only is a source of pure entertainment, but also a means of communication. Whenever you get the chance, listen to Chopin Ballade No. 1, preferably the one played by the main character in the movie The Pianist. The piece itself is amazing. One of the famous repertoire for piano, the Chopin Ballade contains complex rhythms, melodies, dynamics, etc. But they are merely marks on a paper. Through those simple black dots-on-a-stick, the character portrays the emotions behind his trials and tribulations. I can't say that I've ever had the chance pour out my emotions by playing repertoire I've never dared to touch, on an instrument I've given up, due to miserable failure, in front of a had-been-and-will-be murderer. But I can say that I've pleasantly enjoyed every moment of listening and experiencing the minds of others. With music, people unveil the beauty of the mind.

Its like an addiction. I don't really know where the constant desire comes from, or why it truly touches my heart. But music enigmatically provides some sort of satisfaction, maybe even comfort, regardless of genre. It almost acts as a hypothalamus to my body--it monitors my heart rate, emotions, movement, digestion, you name it. Its like being in a beach on Koh Samui, then 3 mins later in a battle field in 1944 Germany raining with bullets, and in a click of a button, under water diving with fishes in a reef where no light can reach. Wherever and whenver I'm listening to music, the beat and melody takes me to a distant world, where no man can see or reach; a world of my own, a world of my mind.

For those who can't make the connection, let me put it to primordial terms; its like sex. Its quick, you can do it anywhere and anytime, and the climactical experience of it gives you a completely out-of-this-world experience. Likewise, listening to music does me harm; I can't focus on the tasks at hand, and sometimes I get too carried on by the emotions and the messages of my music. Same with the latter. Do too much, and it'll carry you away from reality.

One may say that my relationship with music is built upon some fundamental passion for creating music. In otherwords, there may be some people out there who think that, just cause I find happiness in music, I play a musical instrument. In fact I do, and I am currently working on a personal CD to wrap up my year-long efforts in trying to master the largest brass instrument known to man, the tuba. As heavy as it may be, it plays as lightly as a sparrow. Unfortunately, I play it as heavily as the instrument is. I still have miles to go on my tuba playing; hopefully the CD will turn out well. But, to be honest, I didn't start the tuba with the same heart and mind as I do now, for music.

Anyhow, the hands of the clock will soon strike 12, and the bed calls out to me. For those who have never picked up classic in their lives, try a bit of it. For those who always despised rock and metal, try dip your foot in it. Music carries a heart and message, and sometimes thats what's really important, in any field.

On a closing note, check out 'aruarian dance' by Nujabes and Fat Jon. And stay healthy.

Best

Summer 09?

2009-06-15T20:21:00.003+08:00

SO here we go again, the summer we've all been waiting for. That is, for those in schools. The season of the year which we all enjoy, because we get two months of whatever we want to do, away from the pressures from the institution of education, school. Two months is really a long time, for some. Within two months, anything can happen, from epidemics to culture shifts to wars. In the miniscule portion of global events, I started my own blog--Powerhouse.

I'm no big fan of writing. My native tounge is Korean. Since I was child, my mother, who is a teacher of the Korean language, tried everything she could to make me use the language to express myself. I, a child of 3, refused to learn. Nearly everything I did required an initiative - symptoms of a natural economist - and so I took in Korean only if my mother gave me treats. Woof. Funny thing, if you list the things I am good at now, they all had some initiative; my parents gave me $10 HKD whenever I aced my MadMaths; if I joined that club I'd be able to fill in that college application; if I run that extra mile, I might lose this belly. And if there were no intiative, I wouldn't go near it; no treat for learning this english? screw it; not gonna lose fat from running this extra mile? give up. To much irony, I didn't find much enthusiasm in learning economics, which pretty much explains my drop in GPA. So I didn't learn much, which did not please my parents. After the first six years of my life, my father was relocated by his company from Korea to Hong Kong. Regardless of the choices available to me, my parents made the decision to send me to an international school, based on their biases and the 'Korean Dream', to attend a big Ivy League school in the states, get rich, and stop the damned inflation in Korea. Maybe even the president from suicidal. So I started to attend California International School, which soon changed its name to American International School. I passed most of the requirements to attend the school, except for one thing; I couldn't speak english. For some strange reason, I really wanted to attend that school. As I reflect back on the 'good times', the school is nothing more than a building with people in it. Or maybe that's all a school is supposed to be. In any case, I forced myself to learn the language, and then kinda dragged myself through the next 10 years of school with the same level of literacy. Last summer, I took a crash course in english for the SATs. Laying down the foundation with the basic grammar, I wrote essay after essay, but to my surprise, with no troubles. Nothing stressed me as I wrote essay after essay. It was, no hesitation, fun. To all those SAT takers out there, I gotta tell you that writing the essay is pretty much the easiest part, well to me. It's simple; answer the question, and add a few examples to spice it up. Maybe thats the way writing's supposed to be. Answering a question. So anyways, that's how I got hooked into literature as a whole. To me, writing is like art. It was using tools (such as paint, paint brushes, cameras, wtv) to present an idea through a medium of communication, which in this case, is the english language. To me, reading a book is like listening to the ideas people want to present in their own creative ways. So, I start this blog, to rant.

Enjoy.