Bunny teeth and distinct canines and a very messy bottom because of small Asian jaw. The spread was also pretty strange, with lots of spaces at the side when i smile.
I’m not sure how I lived 17 years being okay with teeth like that, now that i have them straightened… And I don’t just mean aesthetically. In fact, that’s the least significant difference (to me). Having properly aligned teeth helps in the so many areas: sleeping and breathing and chewing and speech.
Right after getting my braces on. Hurt like a bitch and I had to live on soft food. It was horrible.
They straightened really quickly, this was a few months after. For a long time it was stuck at this gap-tooth stage, which I secretly liked.
After more than a year. Straight but my bite was not yet adjusted. Had to wear rubber bands for awhile to reign in my overbite.
The day I got my braces taken off! I think the last photo I have of me in them.
AFTER. Oh god just compare this with the Before. Also idk why they seem so white here.
YAY.
ALTHOUGH.
I’m still stuck on retainers (at least until end of this semester). Need to have them on almost all the time and it’s a huge pain. They impede my speech more than braces did. Also just really uncomfortable, troublesome and horrible.
She is reciting nonsensical lines. “I like YOUTH! I like ASIA! I love YOUTHASIA!” She says them with deliberation and enunciation; loudly, perhaps louder than necessary.
When she is done the room is abruptly silent and hollow.
She remembers a child who was once precious to her. Remembers not only it but the depth of her love as she peered into the cot at its fat, thrashing limbs, remembers the way it returns her attention.
Before this child there was a string of others. She did not love them as much as the child because her love was divided, but their footsteps and voices fill her mind and remind her that she is alive.
Now she thinks about her husband. In a jar she has kept his bones. At the angle, the jar projects a dimensional image of him as he used to be on a domed glass surface.
She kisses the image, but the surface is searing hot.
She cries out and falls backwards.
She lies there, crying, her lips a raw red.
And then I woke up. She, I think, either outlived her husband, children, and grandchildren. On hindsight I think “I love youthasia” might be her saying she wanted to be euthanized. In my dream I didn’t make the connection.
Waking up with that final image makes me indescribably sad.
Most of you would have heard of Pastor Kong Hee and his statement about God’s apology, which setting off a wave of outrage and the subsequent retaliatory influx of people in defense of him.
I just watched the video, and came to the conclusion that
everyone is missing the point.
Pastor Kong’s speech (sermon?) might have made you slightly uncomfortable – you feel that something is fundamentally off about what he’s saying, but being lazy, we latch on to a convenient point of contention we then sensationalize and use for cyber-bashing.
In this case, the convenient point most have latched on to for criticism is that he claimed God apologized.
By doing so – by extrapolating that single statement for nitpicking – is EXACTLY what the anti-church camp often condemn churchgoers for: taking things (/the bible) out of context.
Essentially, they are bashing Pastor Kong Hee without knowing why they are bashing him (sounds familiar?)
This disturbs me because when I take a stand against or for anything, I need a sound reason. I want to think through and justify my resentment or love for everything, which sometimes can be tedious, confusing, but – in my opinion – necessary.
Pastor Kong’s ‘sermon’ made you vaguely affronted and uncomfortable because there are several fundamental problems rooted in the way he is running a megachurch.
These underlying issues are what we should be looking into and surfacing for discussion, not merely how God is apologizing etc etc.
And since the #godnehsaysorry movement has been mostly shoddy about ruminating and articulating what they really think, I’ll try to break down some of the things that should be brought up instead.
This is why Pastor Kong Hee’s speech wound you up:
1. Why is he so eagerly defending and justifying himself…
If it is Pastor Kong’s belief that God has chosen for him a path of suffering alone, I can respect that. But he has imposed upon a congregation this belief, and essentially voided what (he apparently thinks) God intends for him.
If he truly believes that God wants him to suffer, and to suffer alone, then what he should be doing is to humbly accept the public persecution and have enough faith to ride it out knowing that it would eventually end.
Instead, he is telling everyone that he is suffering, as a hero, chosen by God. He is glorifying himself. This is neither suffering, nor is it suffering alone. He has instead turned the tide of condemnation and harnessed it for stronger popular support.
Basically, this intense justification would not have taken place if he actually believes what he’s arguing for in the video.
2. …with it self-indulgently disguised as a sermon…
This is a prevalent problem with megachurches that really gets to me (and is one of the reasons why I left church).
A sermons’ main priority is to “talk on a religious or moral subject”. Its goal is to educate, to enrich the spiritual life of Christians through teachings. What is Pastor Kong’s message here?
Maaaybe that in instances of wrongful persecution, we should think of it as pre-ordained by God. If that were the lesson at all, it is a very self-indulgent one: it aims at soothing the self, instead of teaching you to live out God’s words.
To be a Christian is not just about having a religious balm for all your woes. It is about work, about servicing others, even if it leads to personal suffering that cannot be shared with others.
This is why I find Pastor Kong’s speech (I cannot, by semantical technicalities, call it a sermon) incredibly self-indulgent. Not only does he deprive the congregation of what should have been a religious or moral lesson, he imposes them with what can only be a a form of self-glorification and opportunistic justification.
3. …in such a contrived, rehearsed, and self-righteous manner?
Another gripe I have with megachurch sermons is that they reek of over-rehearsal and insincerity. In fear of over-generalizing, I shall just discuss Pastor Kong Hee’s speech in the video above.
Can anyone watch it and tell me it is not a performance? The gestures, the immaculate pacing, the contrived accent. The overdosage of self-references. I, I, I. God said to me, me, me. I am a sufferer, I am condemned, but I, I, I will persevere, I will take on this burden, etc, etc.
While I have dissected the fundamental issues with Pastor Kong Hee, the most pressing matter I want to push forward is this:
Everyone needs to step back and think more deeply about issues, by themselves, for themselves.
Guided not merely by your church, or by media sensations. Think more thoroughly about why exactly you have particular feelings about subjects. The problem is that we are stimulated by simple scandals but are reluctant to understand what we are persecuting.
This goes for BOTH anti- and for- camps.
We need more incisive arguments on why we are against Pastor Kong Hee (not just that he is deluded about God apologizing), and why we believe and follow our religious leaders even when they come under fire (instead of just re-bashing haters).
I’d love to hear arguments either for or against this!
Edit:
I did a closer reading of what netizens had to say about the entire saga, hoping to find a post, or even just a comment, that regarded the larger issue instead of fixating on the apology issue, which is merely a manifestation of the overarching problem. The larger issue/problem being the structural leadership of a charismatic megachurch.
It was disappointing.
News reports focussed on the Sorry (although they are the media and their main aim is readership, so somewhat understandable although not admirable).
YouTube comments were painfully tacky attempts at wisecrack revolving around the Sorry (then again, it’s YouTube: watch and bitch is the routine.)
Other local forums involved equally intense debates… that were futile chasing of each other’s tails because um, it’s a non-issue to begin with. Did they even watch the entire video for context?
A miserable few alluded to general function of the church and his leadership. The miserable few did little to elaborate, or else their comments were mired in cringe-worthy shots at satiric humor (omg pls stop).
I call this the Stomp culture. We are a generation perversely hungry for news that expose another for very, very irrelevant and frivolous disgraces. Like reading newspapers on the floor of the mrt station and necking each other in clinics. I mean, whatever.
Can we want more? Can we BE more?
I am so sad and I wish someone would come and challenge me and tell me I’m wrong and why Pastor Kong Hee has done everything right and how megachurches are worthier than I thought so at least I know people out there are thinking along with their bitching.
Early back in 07 (?), a friend sent me a soft copy of Seidel’s Ovid, Metamorphoses X, 298-518. I loved it and kept it for a couple of years until my digital migration in 09. Afterwards i tried desperately to find it online, but couldn’t.
Recently, in an abrupt and consuming lust for nostalgic poetry, i picked up Seidel’s Collected Poems (40 years worth!) and slaked my need for Ovid.
Since then, the first thing each morning would have me browsing through a few of his poems — am finally done today! I wouldn’t ham it up and say he’s stunning, but is definitely a good read. Personal favorite remains Ovid.
People like to think of Seidel’s ‘brutal sexual imagery’ (forgot where i read that) as his signature, along with his self-portrayed hedonism (his love for motorcycles and fucking). Pinning that as the locus of his poetry would be missing the point, though. Seidel does allude rather casually to vaginas and humping, etc., but it’s really nothing new. Also, the materialistic mien seems more of a conscious construction to.. throw us off guard? idk. He just does it for fun or self-referential mockery perhaps.
Surprising to me, and contrary to his commonly regarded persona, is that he is genuinely astute in his socio-political commentary (as opposed to orbiting around his self), and also unusually empathetic.
By empathy, i mean that in its barest definition – less of compassion than the ability to cast himself as the other.
He writes of James Baldwin’s escape to Paris:
‘How lonely to be understood
And have to kill, how lovely.
It does make you want to starve. It makes an animal kill
All the caring-and-sharing in the cage.
Start with the trainer who keeps you alive
In another language,
The breasts of milk
That speak non-leopard. Slaughter them.
What lives below
The surface in a leopard will have to live above
In words. I go to sleep
And dream in meat and wake
In wonder,
And find the poems in
The milk
All over the page.’
Racial themes, again, in ‘Boys’. This time he sheds the use of allegories and goes straight into it with blunt rhymes typical of his poems.
‘So it was a jolt, a jolt of joy,
To hear him cut the shit
And call a black man Boy.
The white-haired old Negro was a shoeshine boy.
One of my sovereign experiences of my life was my joy
Hearing my father in his fury call the man Boy.’
In context of the entire poem you see how complex his ‘joy’ was, a secret thrill that hidden racial prejudices of his usually immaculate father slipped to the surface, that the hypocrisy he may have detected with a child’s instinct was confirmed.
Curiously, he also likes referring to the death of dogs.They make me incredibly sad. Firstly because i have issues with canine suffering (when watching The Artist, Cel and Becks wept away when the protagonist was about to kill himself, but i remained stoic until his pet dog sacrificed his life to save him, where i promptly burst into tears).
In his shorter poems, on the death of a pet dog Spinach:
‘Love is a cup that spilled him.
Spilled all the spin that filled him.’
I loved his narrative pacing and style in Ovid. It starts:
‘A daughter loved her father so much
She accused him of sexual abuse.
But I am getting ahead of my story.’
‘Muse, put your breast in my mouth
If you want me to sing.
(Fuck the muse.)’
‘She had a noose around
Her neck attached to nothing,
Which is a metaphor for love.’
Seidel also writes quite a bit on political stuff, which (being politically apathetic), I skim through without much interest. All i can say about them is that they are varied and genuine.
I like Frederick Seidel’s flexibility and variety. I like that he can vary between detached and distanced to more invested and personal (without coming off as maudlin). I like that he does an entire range of themes – political, social, personal (on age [‘I rot before i ripen’], on love, on sex [and sex, and sex]).
Even his voice is nuanced. Each poem can differ so much in its style I’m not sure if i’d be able to identify each one anonymously as by the same poet. It may require a level of familiarity with Seidel’s work to identity that blunt self-assurance that is the point of convergence in his repertoire.
This is typified, i think, in ‘Snow’:
‘Snow is what it does.
It falls and it stays and it goes.
It melts and it is here somewhere.
We will all get there.’
He cares, but genuinely. His poems stand at a balance – subtly sincere without being cloyingly ardent. And oftentimes rather funny in his whatever-lah-just-say-anything-also-can Seidel style.
This is good for Political Science majors who secretly want instead to do Literature. Which is a large part of the local Political Science community.
When it comes to music, I’ve always preferred for words to be subordinate. It should enhance, not distract. This is why i’m downright inept when it comes to remembering lyrics, because to me their function is decorative. It is also one of the reasons why jazz appeals to me. Scat singing exemplifies the spirit of music first, words as a complement. Pre-scat bebop usage of words can be quintessentially found in one of my absolute favorites: Dizzy Gillespie’s Salt Peanuts. He literally yells SALT PEANUTS SALT PEANUTS in intervals. The meaning attached to these words become irrelevant, but the vocalizations are sublime paired with the music.
K that was a rather digressive aside.
I’ve been wanting to briefly share some jazz pieces/players here but didn’t know where to start. Justin has given me the perfect opportunity:
In it, The Man I Love (Take 1 and 2) – which i’ve never heard before; Swing Spring, Bemsha Swing. Miles Davis on the trumpet, Monk on the piano, Milt Jackson on the vibraphone, Percy Heath on bass, and Kenny Clarke on drums. It also includes ‘Round Midnight (!!!) which i really like, with Coltrane on the tenor sax, Paul Chambers on bass, Red Chambers on piano and PJJ on the drums. All in all an impressive line up.
My first comment when Justin popped the CD into his player and started The Man I Love was that it doesn’t do Thelonious Monk any justice.
First off and more obviously, he seemed muted throughout the piece. Secondly, even when his sound was discernible in the foreground, it wasn’t the usual charming Monk-spasmodic, but an uncertain-spasmodic. I apologize for my embarrassing lack of technical knowledge lol. Monk always plays lurchingly – and i mean that in the most reverent way possible (i love dissonance in music). It is a deliberate lurching, with characteristic pockets of sudden withdrawal and then a (very pleasing) burst of self-assured playing. In this recording of The Man I Love it sounded more timid than anything.
Percy Heath on bass, though, was great. I love the sound of bass and it’s always what stands out to me in jazz, and it did especially so here. Also, watch out of the vibraphone – whenever it came on it did an excellent job pulling everything (including the sidelined Monk) together.
At home i listened to Take 1 and 2 more closely. Miles Davis’ trumpet solo is much more captivating in Take 2 – harsher, cleaner – with the space more effectively shared with Milt Jackson’s vibes.
Monk comes back with a piano solo in Swing Spring and is par excellence on his usual form, and he doesn’t break the trend in Bemsha Swing. His comping for both trumpet and vibes in Bemsha Swing, particularly, was beauty.
‘Round Midnight features a different set, with Coltrane on sax and Chambers on bass – sans Monk, the original composer. Which i thought worked for this version. Monk with Coltrane did much justice for ‘Round Midnight but with Miles Davis thrown into the mix as well, Monk’s healthy dissonance might be thrown into confusion (Monk coupled with Gillespie, though, did such a breathtaking rendition).
This is a nice mix with classic tracks and beefy solos. My only gripe is that it lacks cohesion. Sometimes within each piece, but more distinctively as a compilation. Some albums give a strong sense of each piece being chapters to a unified whole. Each chapter unique in itself, with nuances in ambiance, but coming together finally so you feel that satisfaction of having finished something truly great. Still, there are enough moments of incredible solos that make this gift very worthy (thank you Justin xo!)
I recommend this album for that time of the night you realize you’ve tripped too far past bed time to be sleeping at all. When fatigue gives up on you and a light-headed, giggly kind of energy starts creeping in. The music here becomes brilliantly suitable, where discordant transitions from piece to piece will match your manic progression throughout the night. It will go down well with a strong, nasty brew of something heady like ginger ale. Slightly uncomfortable but exciting and secretly loved.
Baking requires so much precision I’ve never trusted myself with an original recipe. But I felt like experimenting, and my grandma presented me with the perfect opportunity when she asked me to whip up something for her karaoke class (of mostly the elderly) with some pumpkin she had brought home (my grandma loves bringing home fresh produce and coming up with new ways to cook them). A core ingredient and a specific demographic group to feed was the ideal challenge so naturally I took it up.
…and came up with this!
Spiced Pumpkin Muffin Tops, with cranberries and chopped almonds!
I wanted something soft, easy and familiar for digestion but exciting on the palate (with more sophisticated spicing than decadent sweetness) in the form of finger food perfect for pre-karaoke snacking. And also health conscious because of their age.
Personally I was pretty satisfied with the taste and fragrance – a good blend of sugar and spice and fruity-nuttiness, but was more like a dense kueh bahlu than the chewy soft gooey desserts I like heh… BUT it was a hit with the old folks and everything was snapped up and da-bao-ed so YAY~
Recipe!
2 cups all-purpose flour, unsifted
3/4 c. brown + 1/4 c. granulated sugar
115g unsalted butter, softened
1 medium egg + 1 yolk
(Extra yolk if you prefer it dense > fluffy)
1 c. pumpkin pureed in agar-agar amount of coconut milk
1 tsp vanilla extract
2 tsp baking powder (*IMPT*: do NOT sub with baking soda, because pumpkin and coconut milk are both basic, b.s. will make batter bitter w/o acids to balance it out)
Pinch of salt
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp ground nutmeg
1/2 tsp ground ginger
1/2 tsp ground cloves (Above three can be subbed by 1 tsp of All-Spice)
1 c. mixed dried fruits and nuts of your choice!
1. Butter and egg to room temperature, butter softened almost melted.
2. Preheat oven to 190 c. (But adjust according to your oven’s temperament, did mine at 170 c. because it gets overheated a lot)
3. Measure flour spoon and leveled, sift, then mix in baking powder.
4. Steam, boil, or bake pumpkin until soft, and puree. Cool to room temp.
You can try steaming or boiling the pumpkin until almost cooked, then simmer in coconut milk. This enhances both flavors super well. (Don’t boil it at high with the milk because coconut milk curdles.)
5. Chop up whole almonds/whatever nut by putting it in a baggy and pounding with whatever! You should get some sizable, visible chunks, slightly smaller chunks, and grounded. Separate these.
6. Cream melted butter before whisking sugar in until lumpy bits are gone, add in eggs one at a time.
7. Add pumpkin puree and mix until all combined. Add in vanilla essence, salt, cinnamon and all the spices. (I think some people add it into the dry mix but I think the flavor is more even this way.)
Add in ground almond/nut!
8. Add in dry mix and combine well.
9. Fold in smaller almond chunks and dried fruits!
I chose cranberries and a leeedle bit of leftover prune slices. Pecans and walnuts will work really well too I think. Maybe dried apricots and raisins, etc. Leave some dried fruits along with the visible almond chunks!
10. Drop 1 tablespoon each onto parchment paper, as you would with wet cookie dough! It should be a fairly peaked lump, not spread.
Decorate top of batter with the leftover dried fruits and larger almond chunks!
11. Bake in upper or middle rack for 12 minutes or until edges are golden brown.
But again I’m super agar agar when it comes to this lol so I rly don’t know the perfect timing. Just poke around and try la.
12. Leave in for 10 minutes after cause it will continue baking, then cool on wire rack.
Makes about 30 smaller sized, or 18 normal sized Muffin Tops!
I love what the spices and coconut do to the pumpkin flavor! It’s balanced out with the sweet dried fruits too, and almond adds nutty fragrance and texture.
Fun part was definitely choosing from various fruits and nuts, if y’all have any suggestions on nice new combinations lemme know! WHOO DOMESTICGURL93 pride of my Grandma~
Watching WWZ made me remember this dream I had about zombies that made me realize on a what a good person I am even on the subconscious level. Yes, I do say this myself but humility and compassion are not necessarily symbiotic.
Anywayzers.
It was a seriously vivid dream. The emotions I felt were distinct and intense and true. It started off with me right after I got infected by a zombie. I could feel myself losing control. In that transitional stage I managed to drunkenly drag myself to a female toilet, the whole time thinking: Please don’t let anyone come in, please don’t let anyone come in.
It was really scary, the transformation – it was like having my brain taken over gradually, knowing I’ll no longer be myself and that I’ll do things that I fear. Then I suddenly became aware that there was a woman hiding in one of the stalls.
Thus came one of the most epic struggle between my consciousness and my most primitive, diseased instincts. God, it was such a painful battle: I spazzed around the toilet stalls alternating between mournful cries and raging hunger. And I kept screaming at the idiot lady to run away but all that came out was truly terrifying savage wails.
And then at last she tried to escape and I couldn’t help but chase after her, and right when we were outside and I was about to attack her, that infinitesimal human part of me that remained forced myself to lunge over the railing, effectively committing zombie suicide.
The moments before dying I remember being happy because a) I died (at least a little bit) human and b) I killed a zombie (the one I was becoming).
Q 