Le monde de Richard

Corporate social responsibility: a gimmick in the name of environmental sustainability

2010-02-21T10:42:00.002Z

Black is so yesterday. Green is in vogue. So how much time do you spend on average to hover around for the sake of making your green choices; be it when it comes to choosing your crisps in the confectionery aisle, finding a more environmentally sustainable fabric for your clothes, to nominating the perfect candidate of petrol station to fill up your automobile. You think that it has been fine and that you have made a ‘wise’ option through your decision all along, hence contributing a little to help prevent the environment from the adverse consequences of global warming. Is that so, really? Think again, you may have been greenwashed.

Like death and taxes, green issues are unavoidable and omnipresent. Urged by necessity, the issue of global warming has convened the citizens of the world to make radical actions to save the world from what it will become if human consumption and waste carry on in a fashion at present. Even companies have come up with a notion, what so-called ‘corporate social responsibility’ to display their affinity for the environment upon creating innovative strategies as to lessen the impact of their corporate activities and productions; showing more social responsibility for the profits they make. Although all in itself sounds very welcoming, I have noted with concern that there has been a conflict of interest between corporate activities and corporate responsibilities. In other words, there is a clash between profit-making activities (what could be termed as the ‘core or primary aim’ of every corporation established) and corporate social responsibility (what is initially aimed to create a more sustainable environment through giving more responsibility of corporate actions, has come secondary to financial gains). Even more sordid is the implementation of this corporate social responsibility as an instrument of business strategy to gain public trust, a better reputation, and what is of paramount importance, more consumers, which implies more profit in the making. It appears that companies nowadays compete on a basis of how ‘green’ they are in making their products in comparison to their competitors in the public eye, and that if they are not green enough, they will endavour to be ‘greener’ for fear of a tarnished reputation, less selling, and corporate sanctions.

The ground of my hypothetical argument of the accusation of the implementation of corporate social responsibility into business strategy is that, had those corporations cared about the environment at all, they would try, not to diminish, but to be free of any creation of environmental damage at any level. This is because, if they are profit-seeking by nature, want to reduce costs of production for the sake of attracting many consumer bases through cheaper products, how can they sell less in that manner? The only way to more financial gains is through selling more (products). In effect, would not that only create more environmental damage, since the compound of carbon emissions (while lesser) would add up and increase in proportion to more production in whole, and deplete more ozone layer consequently?

I would have accepted the notion, if the benefits of corporate social responsibility would offset the danger it creates to the environment. Since the term is fundamentally flawed (that is, contradictory in its denotation), and does not provide an answer to the critical question, it is of import to create a critical mindset to all this de rigueur corporate ‘greenwashing’. Is it that the pronouncement of corporate social responsibility ever really intended to serve its purpose or is it just a gimmick in the name of environmental sustainability? Even the mercenaries repudiate themselves after all.

Status quo: A Simple Counterrevolutionary Approach to Modernism

2009-11-28T05:10:00.024Z

'The only thing that time guarantees is change' – a little too naïve statement towards the positivity of aspects of life.

Less is more – a cliché phrase so often echoes in our earlobe. This cannot be any simpler – less is more. Simplicity is a term referred to lack of sophistication or subtlety, or often, to a low capacity of individual intellectuals. Whilst so, a synonymous definition of the term can explicit a complete opposite comprehension to the first characterization – the ability of engendering minimalism. Indeed, the disparity between the two is so delicate that simplicity is an ambiguous, yet a relative expression. In the escalating complexities of various aspects of human life, simplicity is much needed. Simplicity is not just a facile solution to complex problems we are facing in this very phase of evolving human life; rest assured, it is the answer to tangible and intangible problems that humanity has been seeking for over the centuries.

One analogy amongst the ample modern subjects on which simplicity can be elaborated by this narrative is the evolution of human life style in producing one of the quintessential elements of life: fire. We have indeed evolved from cavemen who were once in need of fire for cooking hunts, to a civilized man being called by nature to create stove as a simpler apparatus (in exchange of bonfire), to serve the same purpose of the activity. Whilst in a sense that life may be interpreted as being assisted to be simpler (in efficiency terms), we have not endeavored to consider the effort associated with the use of such discovery. Naturally, we need gas to utilise the appliance. And in order to obtain gas, we need to work to earn money in exchange for the commodity. Although the two methods do not differ from each other in essence, the latter process may be said not to be as effortless as the traditional ritual of collecting branches, and making fire by using repetitive rock friction movements. Both processes only differ in idiomatic terms (chiefly contributed by age periods), length of time spent, and use of resources. The olden day’s method for cooking is simpler in that it uses minimal and lasting resources, compared with the modern one that employs the usage of non-lasting resources such as gas, whereas the limitations of length of time spent have rendered the first approach rather unfeasible and inadequate when deployed in these current modern days; thus being connoted as less simple. However, back to the basic question: if we are considering the use of the modern way of making fire in efficiency terms, why have we abandoned the older one? At the end of the day, with minimal resources, the latter proceeds to the same outcome. Considering the time period we are living in, the more activities we do daily would mean that time has become a meaningful resource (which has to be used wisely). It is however still feasible, yet necessary to trade the first method, and implement the latter process into our lives, provided that we are able to compromise the use of our time.

Have a look around and take law as a self-referential system whereby humanity has been pledged to be led into an absolute course of truth and correction in regards to their behavior, and to a better quality of life. In the recent years, law has not been any simpler – it is getting much more complicated, and ever-more convoluted to any ordinary people; understood by few, even by those at work in the field. The increasing rules and regulations (supposedly aimed to better serve, defend, and protect human rights) only add more law jargon; effectively contributing to the already thick, gargantuan law tomes. Where it is the field in which naturally common sense is supposed to overlap with the exercise of professional judgment, many argue that the positive law broadly applies to the system; taking out common sense of people as a factor in the equation. In recent events in Indonesia for instance, it has been reported that a grandmother as well as a mother of two cocoa pickers have been convicted a 6 month punishment of incarceration due to their allegedly wrong course of action of picking available cocoa (of 5 kilos) in the proximity of a corporate and private area. Where it has been said that the activity is long-established and customary to their daily lives, a law suit has been taken against them by a private firm. When reported, a five kilo wet cocoa can only be turned into a 2 kilo dry cocoa, which is worth a mere Rp. 8,000 (90 cents of 1 US dollar). On the other hand, a political occurrence involving the corruption commission team and the Indonesian police has recently been long-winded. Although evidence has been found, and released in the public media to prove the perpetrator guilty of corruption and bribery (political set-up), the case is almost dismissed due to the involving significant parties in the intricacies of the story that for a political reason would anticipate a fear of economy upheaval, given mandatorily by the president. What does this tell us? How come a common sense is applied in law to one case, but absolute on the other? Has the law lost its direction to serve the very purpose of fundamental human rights by the exercise of what is so-called the ‘professional judgment’ (whatever this means nowadays)? Is law becoming legal formalities or legal rhetoric? Why should the cocoa pickers be given a punitive rather than cautionary act, or be peremptorily deterred, granted that they will not do it again someday? What is humanity trying to achieve at the end of the day? Is law created to meet demand of giving more rights for people, and consequently, less responsibility for them to live righteously?

What is the solution to this entire predicament? Again, less is more. Do we need all these complex tangible and intangible things? No. In fact, we need to scrape all these things out of our lives. From the creation of humanity, the first instinct of humankind is to survive. People naturally followed their instinct for survival, both to fulfill their very basic needs of nourishment and to destroy, if such engagement is deemed necessary to provide defense from any threats or perils. Dating back to the past (before civilization), people had been able to live hand in hand with pretty much, nothing to lose (the law was rather intuitive than defined). The means of survival may have been more 'primitive' or 'barbaric', as termed modernly by the progressive society. But this, by no means, implies that our current means of making fire will not be called primitive by those living in the far future, and the crime committed by the culprits in these modern days is less sinful and barbaric. Nowadays, we see more regularly in the media of those cases of manslaughter, done for some motives of wealth desire, hatred, revenge, so on and so forth. What does it tell us? The world is unchanging. We cannot really dispose of the nature of people. Complexities of things nowadays in fact only create more and more problems, even more deadly to emotional disturbances and predicaments of many people. The amount of things that we have been bombarded by on a constant basis shapes no individuality. Rather, it nurtures a natural desire of collectivity in people towards possession, and striving for wealth is the key to achieve this ambition. Money is a form of wealth, and is becoming the king of all kings about which people have been obsessed. We as humans are really not equipped, physically and emotionally to handle all these complex changes. Let’s just be honest, due to our complexities in the way we live (stipulated by our 'essential' needs for consumption - stove, car etc), we have come to face many problems ranging from the green issues that have caused the mother earth an impossible place to live physically in future days to the issue of globalisation, a man-made contriving system which has removed the border of spaces, effectively causing countries to be economically and politically unstable (trade system), and to a lesser extent, to many people including myself to have been made emotionally lost in their sense of belonging.

In the past, there was no notion of such thing as sense of boundaries, ownerships, or even a desire of possession. The world belonged to the whole lot of us, in contrast to the present days. The land was free for us to explore, and people had not been introduced or tied into to any belief that shapes the society we are living today. If we are not to live under the status quo, the ability to compromise holds the key to progress; be it in terms of time or of our capability of thinking more rationally in giving judgment to the entire predicament of the absolute and the reality. With other aspects of life being more complex as ever before both in tangible and intangible ways, we need to ask whether we can grasp more complexity, and if it is really needed and whether sophistication is a beauty product arising out of vanity and if it really brings any merits to human life in any way. Sometimes, the more we think, the less we know.

Mary: A golden tale of a lady

2009-11-18T23:36:00.004Z

To you all God-fearing men

Hearken; it’s a slumber party

Of winter, and a coming of age

About a fair in a tale

Captivating thy heart with frailty and rage

Mary grew a thousand hair

Out of the lair for Larry and to the mortal

Elegant deportment of a mare

Wanting a foal to present to the altar

Her flair sprayed many breaths to the air

Mixing the nitrogen and oxygen

Adding relish to the wine of a gent

She followed the trail of crumbs

That summed and stashed red ink on her lump

Sank in the stream of a monody for a tragic demise

Sung by the siren of bloom and blood

Hitting the ship, rocking to home

A life so full of secrets and lies

The waning moon that tires to shine

Autumn leaves lay so composedly ahead of May

By the cerulean skies, by the golden sand

It’s the sweet caresses of fay

To the docks, the deep serene; in between she stands

God forbid

2009-10-23T17:41:00.012+01:00

The atrocities of the Holocaust have gained a lot of media exposure in the recent past. The genocide of the Jews at that time was really in the extreme of human cruelty. It was simply unbelievable that people would want to follow the voice of one person, even if it was wrong, regardless of his powers. The information on the genocide that I gathered from movies, documentaries, articles, and veterans interviews on the news really gave a viewpoint, and made me have a wistful wish that such thing had not happened. I really don't know honestly, what I would have done had I lived in the past, being either a Jew who was the victim, or a German who was directly involved in the mass killings. So, I was just being evocative, and could not forbear to write a redolent literary poem that draws a picture about the emotional hardships gone through by these soldiers, by positioning myself in the texts as one German who had left the activities of the Nazis, or being furloughed or whatever as such, who later suffered greatly from the emotional pains for the rest of his life, and an imaginary friend of mine who was trapped in between pursuing his career to defend his country, or striving for personal wealth, if one might venture to say, and leaving everything behind for he had seen the intolerable consequences of being a soldier. He did not choose the latter unfortunately.

You buried my apology letter to the dead
And cried for what I have been fed
I lead through a lead
Earning a small bead for my bad

Broken glasses rhyme with thunder
And I’m left with a penny like a miser
A broken jar means a war
If they are to mar, and why are you bestowed with ore?

Don’t be haunted for what you’ve mounted
You’ve counted, but still let them be melted
Their souls mortally laid with no aid
They’ve sworn this may someday be paid

Can you not tell the gold from the bolt?
If they are old, why are you giving them jolt?
If you’re not cold, you shouldn’t put them on volt
These Jews mould, stop teasing with your colt

Years pass, and upon a mire
You stumble across a fire
As you begin to tire
To escape the fire of the ire
Of those you put once on a wire
You’ve gone and hold onto a spire
With none to hire

You'll forever be admired
God forbid

Book Review: To Kill a Mockingbird

2009-10-02T17:20:00.003+01:00

So I was tediously searching for job vacancies on the internet last week where I came across a fascinating position available in an English newspapers company in Jakarta: the Jakarta Post - Reporter. Apart from the standard requirements of job application - CV etc, they require a sample writing to be submitted. I was then reminded of a magnificent piece of work by Harper Lee, and therefore created an article of a book review of her work. It is more of a columnist to write something such as below, for it involves some rather objective views and opinions than facts alone. Though I still have lots to learn to be able to have and understand my own writing style, I submitted my application online full-heartedly just for a laugh, and I am almost positive they would not call me for an interview.

So this is what I wrote:

Set in the Maycomb County in 1930s, To Kill a Mockingbird is a Pultizer Prize Winning novel by Harper Lee that raises the theme of racism, seen through the eyes of young Jem and Scout Finch. In the story, there is Atticus, a father to Jem and Scout Finch, whose occupation as a lawyer appoints him to handle the case of an accused black rapist of a white girl, Tom Robinson. Being a lawyer to a black man as well as a father figure to two children, Atticus was often questioned about his judgment of the societal conscience in the Deep South towards race and class. Whilst attempting to assuage the frequent temper of sulky youths of their encounter with provoking remarks from relatives and friends on Atticus’ favour for the black man, Atticus leads by example to prevent his children from becoming men of their society. To satiate curiosity on one hand, Atticus never suppresses the inquisitive disposition of his children to comprehend the irrationality of the adulthood towards justice in that era. On the other, captured in between the unquestioned tradition of race and the solitary beliefs of their father, Jem and Scout rapidly became children maturing of their own, compared with of those of their ages.

The notably classic quote from the book: ‘Shoot all the bluejays you want if you can hit ’em, but remember it’s a sin to kill a mockingbird’, is an eloquent didactic metaphor that is not intended for moral proselytizing, but rather for highlighting that there should be justice to human beings in regards to what they have done, irrespective to their racial background.

Complemented with a lively sense of touch of words, authentic humour, and endearing story lines, this is a moving book that would appeal and be an enjoyable read to all ages.

Which state is the ideal state?

2009-08-29T07:00:00.007+01:00

This summer holiday has managed to quadruple its subversive effects in my brain. For months, an inevitable torpor resulted from a physical inertia has taken place and compartmentalised cerebral cells of mine into addled and philosophical cogitation. For some reason, the relevance of this obscure personal gain gave me an impulse to apply my coalescent intellect of Eastern and Western viewpoints to write about the democratic contours of the contemporary Indonesian government.

Having left Indonesia to live abroad for studies for a while, I have recently started to notice a big transition that the country has experienced in these past few years and pondered about these changes.

Historically, though quite recent, at the start of the World War II in 1945, Indonesia declared its abrupt independence from the Japanese colonialist without painstaking preparations for the event; leaving the country stranded and followed a winding course for domestic development hereafter. There was an immediate need to restore the country, and Soekarno was elected in harmonious accord for his heroic aspirations that led the country into the state of independence. Authenticated by well-acclaimed responses and acceptance from the public, successful it was for him playing his presidential functions in creating profile to ‘a country’, building bilateral relationships with foreign countries, and in underpinning fundamentally crucial social values for uniting multiple diverse ethnic groups from different backgrounds into ‘a people’. His well-founded ideology for the country was respected and of undisputed origin.

Around 1966, Soeharto, being a locum tenens, he eventually replaced Soekarno’s leadership. This occurred not from his post-mortem, but rather from Soeharto’s accusal of his disloyalty and bastion of false tenets. He was sent to prison, and rumour has it that Soekarno’s death was as a result of administrable poisoning. Unlike Soekarno, who possessed innate charisma and was of a fiery- chauvinistic-resolute character, Soeharto on the other hand, led the nation on force under the regime of totalitarianism. During the tyranny, total subservience of the people to the state was deemed as central in his dictatorship for the development of the country.

For 32 years, Indonesia had admittedly been peaceful, economically and politically sound due to this. However, this did not mean that Indonesia was progressing to the better. On the contrary, the development was all, but unreal. Promising assurance to greater prosperity took way too long, as later it was Soeharto’s crumpled stained paper, listing his reprehensible actions, being unravelled by the public. It was filled with three despicable particulars: corruption, collusion, and nepotism. Being elected seven times consecutively, revoked promises ultimately erupted anger of the masses in 1998, when a big riot demanding a seizure of power from the government finally gathered an initial momentum in a chain of events, as well as tainting blood on Indonesian history. The unprecedented overthrow of the government at that time therefore necessitated a new president to be elected, with candidates chosen from a limited array of political parties.

Indeed, the Indonesian economics and political system quickly lapsed into chaos in the aftermath of the Asian crisis and domestic riot, especially with the country being at its very inception of the enactment towards Social Democracy. The newly constructed cabinet was unavoidably ever changing; with advisers of different departments being regularly replaced by others; presidents needless to say, a little less frequently.

Question being posed here is that, it has been 11 years since the whole nation walking in the spotlight of Social Democracy, and I have been one of a million witnesses to the greater chasm between the rich and the poor. In a metropolitan city like Jakarta for instance, there is a plethora of big warrens of concrete buildings; consisting of shopping malls, apartments, business properties, skyscrapers, etc owned by private owners. Yet more of that is to come year in and year out, interestingly, the number of denizens living under bridges and tolls, beggars and orphans sleeping on cardboards on the streets are steadily on the rise as well.

Who’s to blame for lack of investments in education, expensive sustenance, and an imbalance number of blue-collar workers? Indonesia is a country rich in natural resources and populous. There is a glut of taxonomy of food you can imagine; yet it makes no sense to me as to why most people in Indonesia need to suffer from global starvation or live under the poverty line. Answer: Capitalism is outpacing its invasion to third world countries! On one hand, exports to overseas have become more regular in quantities, sold at bargain prices; forsaking the demands and needs of the locals. On the other, political liberty has entrenched greed in our society; making the poor a trampled target of the social stratum.

It is untrue that if not for capitalism, employment would never have been sufficient. There is an abundant of field and industrial workers needed, and theoretically, if supplies and demands are at an equilibrium state, then prices would not be so volatile. Food would become more affordable, in pace with the wages of the locals. Indonesia is strong enough to stand on its own feet, maintain its resources as well as people, provided that the people behind the stage are able to foster integrity and pay heed to the education of the poor.

In my humble opinion, this particular political system and the Capitalist economic profile are best recipes to throw the country into a deep pit, with the Indonesian populace needing to bear the brunt of the systems, merely to fulfil the philosophical aspirations, and meeting the needs of the Western consumerism. At the international façade of globalisation, Indonesia, being equipped with frail foundations of historical and national identity, has been a victim of the pro-acceptance of the Liberal West ideologies; resulting in grave repercussions on its economy. The West is progressing in the guise of Socialism (common wealth), advocating the belief that production, distribution, and exchange should be regulated by the community as a whole, when also backed-up by third world countries as concomitants for the lack of production.

Just like Aristotle defying Plato’s idea, I would like to refute the political and ideological superstructure (the institutions and culture considered to result from or reflect the economic system underlying in a society) in Marxist theory. In lieu of this, the economic system underlying in a society is a self-fulfilling prophecy from the institutions and culture of a country, as it has per se been seen by the history of Indonesia. People should indeed have rights and not be untrammelled by political conventions. Democracy sounds epic and can stand as a promising solution to this predicament, but however, should not be taken for granted. To forgo and to encroach on something radical such as democracy, would in reality present irreconcilable changes and beliefs to the profile and structures of an entire nation (i.e: Indonesia), and should pragmatically be anticipated as a precaution of insidious Imperialism of the West.

Pleasure Beach Excursion!

2009-06-27T01:18:00.014+01:00

Long on the endurance of hardships with final exams, I was soon seeking after enjoyment that I could not more ask for. On Tuesday afternoon, 9 June 2009, my trotters were ultimately freed from their shackles, escaped from the reigns of terror of exams; much alike an unleashed prisoner of war in Vietnam, breaking free from a four square wall confinement into eternal liberty. The next day, I and all my housemates decided to sally forth on a train to Blackpool, the beautifully quaint, surrounded by sea, city of tourism in the North of England, for a change of scenery that we much of needed, and to gain some pleasure from rides in the theme park that Blackpool is popular for. On our quest hither from the station, I observed from my vantage point a brown sand deserted beach, the physiognomy of the landscape, and a plethora of the old dominating the population of the town centre (perhaps this is the English version of Florida in the U.S). We took a halt for a while, until an unimpressively antiquated pre-war looking tram, reminiscent of coal-powered steam locomotive appeared, taking us to Pleasure Beach, the theme park.

As I am seriously acrophobic, my first, last and foremost enjoyment was acquired from playing dodgems! I was in a guffaw whilst on the car, as I tormented one of my mates who did not know how to drive well by deliberately bumping my car against his; watching him suffer from extreme annoyance by not being able to control his movements. To our woes, abruptly after our first game, it started to drizzle, which swiftly turned into a torrent of raindrops. We dwelt by getting on indoor a.k.a kiddy rides: Alice in Wonderland and Ghost Ride, which I thought both immensely hilarious and enjoyable. The rain died down, and as I was the only one who did not bring a raincoat, my agony of wetness was somewhat abated, until... Well, admittedly, some of the water rides were not particularly scary. I was prescient, but however as I was half foolhardy, successfully seduced by persuasion: 'you won't get wet' tripe from mates, when I saw a sign clearly saying 'YOU WILL GET WET!', and half forced, I lingered onto my hesitation whether to go onto trying the water ride. ...Without a full consciousness, I was suddenly on the ride, in a shimmy, whilst listening to gritting noises of the canoe, as it began to ascend more and more steeply. As it slid downwards, my adrenaline pumped to the maximum, and within seconds, I could hear the water surface splashed against the weighty canoe: arrrghh.. I was SOAKED! My recovery was quick however, and I could not help it, but was tempted to try the next water ride - Valhalla! On a queue for an entry, I decided to purchase a plastic raincape for £1, since I could see a little cascade in the cave, and I did not want to be wet to the skin on way back on the train. We all carried a rucksack, and as the keeper was not kindly willing to look after our bags, we needed to hide it beneath our apparel. Inside, it was not well lit, was more of a journey ride with a reverse slide, twists and all that, and it took me by surprise the settings that I saw: vivid depictions of Valhalla indeed!

Before our departure, we wrapped up our trip by using a big red body dryer box near the exit. It barely helped dry our drenched bodies! Time was ticking and we figured that it was appropriate to get some grub for tea, and getting back to the station. Of course, our fun was incomplete without a drama. One of our mates had lost his mobile! In the end, though I had already lost hope, he was able to retrieve his phone. Immediately after that, we got on the tram back, and henceforth ran frantically alfresco, in midst of the crowd in the quiet town centre. They must have thought we were loco! I took time to respire, and after all the momentary embarrassment, sweat-cum-wheeze written on my countenance, I was chuffed with our running ability. We were able to avoid a double whammy! Perhaps, we should be enrolled for the Olympics sprint contestants next time.

The vignette of Patricia Huffman (Incomplete)

2009-05-29T00:29:00.041+01:00

I have always dreamt of writing a short story or novel one day. This is just a sort of a 'writing exercise' to help me fulfill a fun creative writing side of me. I'll give attempts to continue the story as it goes. Tell me what you think. Thanks.

He looked very sinister when he narrowed his pair of dark almond eyes at my stature, glancing upward and downward so sternly, like an agile reptile creature ready to prey on a bird amongst a parcel of deers slurping waters in a placid lake. I waited cautiously for a while until I could feel the raindrops running down my scalp as reverend James finally closed Patricia's cemetery ritual with benisons of bereavement to comfort the loss of the family members. As the crowd became sparse, I hurriedly unfurled my umbrella, walked along the puddles with anxiety, and hailed a taxi down the road back to my house. Shutting my door, I hyperventilated. I double checked the brass-made door chain still worked before I collided onto my old lazy chair fully on my damp coat, ruminating on life after death, and reminisced about memories of Patricia.

It was almost unexpected to her contemporaries, but me that she died at the age of 34. I respected her. She had been an epitome of a lady, who always exhibited remarkable decorum in spite of the domestic violence that had constricted her life. No merits had she inherited from her husband, yet never had she put on a doleful expression on her face. My memories with her would never be forgotten. My mind continued to wander a little until my piece of concentration finally broke when I heard somebody pressing on the door bell repeatedly within seconds. 'Who is it?', I shouted. There was no answer. Later, a sudden sound of incessant strikes hit on the door as if someone tried to break in. A final cracking noise foretold me to hide away. The pulsation of my heart grew faster as I lingered behind the chair. At arm's length, I grabbed the overnight stayed water in a mug, and the knife fallen in between morsels of cakes on the saucer and the coaster. 'Can it be 'him'?', I asked myself. Traces of small steps I heard approaching towards my side. Clicking a tongue like a dog owner enticing food to a pet to come out, I noticed that it was slightly too high-pitched to be his voice. He was led to the kitchen, where he thought he could find me.

Through the distance, I observed with his back facing against where I was. He was a lean 6'' foot tall man, armed, fully clothed in black, and wore a robber mask. In hesitation, I loitered for the right moment to brave myself to confront him. I took a silent deep breath before I started to stealthily come closer to his back. He turned his face towards me, and on a full force, I flung the mug on my right hand to his head. A mishap, Fortuna was not on my side! My only and last chance vanished as the mug hit the cupboard and was strewn on the kitchen floor. We stared at each other in disbelief. The silence broke as I struck to run hastily towards the front door and outside, barefooted, screaming for help with a cutlery knife still clutching on my left hand. The road was empty. I carried on running and screaming till I did not know myself. Into lit areas there were some passersby and moving cars, I finally gave a look over my shoulder. To my surprise, he had disappeared. He did not go after me.

I took time to simmer down and did not want to head back. My hands were still shaky and a part of me was rent after what happened. I was in a distressed state and hid myself on my knees on the curb near the gutter of the street. A long amble I took along the pavement to figure out who the burglar was. 'What did he have to do with me?'. Though armed, he did press the doorbell, so evidently it was not a suggestion he was going to steal something. I could not quite figure it out, but I thought I'd better had put this aside. He would never come back again, I convinced myself. After all, 'lightning never strikes twice in the same place'. Suddenly, in a calm midnight atmosphere, something averted my eyes to the skies. There I saw luminously orange-coloured glow, heavy black carbon filling up the clouds, and bonfire like smoke wafting in the air. Out of my curiosity, I set my steps apace to find out what it was. I was in complete shock and total speechless at my arrival. My house was set ablaze..

My detached house was literally swarmed with passersby, a battalion of police, and fire brigade teams. I could not do anything but to painfully watch it be despoiled of bricks, as they were falling apart to the state where it was almost razed to the ground.....

Richardom

2009-04-19T21:38:00.002+01:00

In the Richardom, I have my freedom

It is not a stardom, but a world of wisdom

This is my kingdom where I hold an earldom

There is no serfdom

Neither is there a fiefdom

I'm here to banish boredom

Everything is always random

Aye, this is Richardhood, I am my own Robinhood

I don't wear a hood around the neighbourhood

I received a knighthood from my early childhood

There is no likelihood

I'll be sent to a priesthood

'Cos I steal

Until I reach my adulthood

'Twas for the sake of brotherhood

So it's not a malicious falsehood

I wish I were a Richardion

A combination of Richard and -ion

A state of no expression

A exchange of an opinion

A fusion of communion

I'm afraid it's too much confusion

Into Richardology

I have my own ideology

I don't need a paralogy

Upon preaching theology

I use technology

To figure my genealogy

A brief methodology to write upon eulogy

I wonder how analogy relates to psychology

This ain't etymology, but a stanzaic quadrilogy

You can make your own version below.. Peace x

Postmodernism messes us up

2009-04-16T17:07:00.000+01:00

Georg Wilhelm Friedlich Hegel, one famous German Philosopher, once proposed the notion of the triad dialectic development as :

1. Thesis: An initial intellectual development of an idea

2. Antithesis: The contradiction of the thesis

3. Synthesis: The reconciliation of the common truths from the thesis and antithesis and an inference of a new proposition.

If you can connect this with the roots of Epistemology (by imagining a Venn Diagram of the proposition whereby knowledge is overlapped in the intersection of truths and beliefs), then you'll soon realise that, although may not directly attributable, these postulations have given rise to the fundamental aspects of the postmodern philosophy. For the sake of brevity, I believe that the notion is given by the presupposition that knowledge is laid in between truths and beliefs, therefore the relationship between the two elements may somehow contain asynchronous proportions and unequal coherency tied up altogether that give birth to knowledge. Thus, knowledge however is postulated not to be just an absolute fact! Rather, it is a combination of both truths and beliefs, whose contributions to it, may not be quantifiable. In accordance with the dialectic triad, a thesis is subsequently a knowledge, but however is negated with another knowledge (anti-thesis) and these are reconciled to bring about a newborn knowledge, which is a synthesis, and the cycle goes on and on and on and on...

In our contemporary society, the paradigm is so largely held that this is I would say, probably the most allusive reference of impossibility to the human capacity. The lack of belief in absolute truth has really scattered and cast doubt upon our minds with knowledge, which in turn states that there is no truth, no knowledge, no belief, since they are all mixed up altogether. It is sad and very depressing to ceaselessly carry on assuming that everything is never far-reaching, utopian visions are non-existent, and there is no substance and sensation of new innovation or avant-garde traditionalist creation, because truths, beliefs and knowledge are drowned together below the zillions of fathoms depth the ocean, wrecked like a sunk imperialist ship along with its slaves, deck crews, and thousands culverins. This is a byproduct of magical conglomeration that sounds appealing to human thoughts, but a mere twaddle in substance!

Who agrees?

Dream ON!

2009-04-11T00:15:00.000+01:00

Pitch black skies, full of stars with glisters, forming constellations never cease to impress me. Perhaps it's mere naivety to say that I have always been awestruck by them, but to be honest, that's what I feel. There are certain attributes about them that I cannot quite pinpoint that sometimes I just stare at them therapeutically with my fingers dawdling at the patterns, yet I wish the moment would never end. Revolving planets with the orbits around the sun are probably one of the most abstruse objects ever coming to human mind, including mine. Have you ever wondered if there lies life beyond the earth that we are all living in at the moment? I have. It may sound far-fetched, but maybe there is something out at that further side, which I and my small failing intrepid mind tend to believe. Who knows if there are green slimy one-eyed aliens with tentacles walking around in Jupiter or even long-nosed little sized goblins with shovels digging the moon, collecting lunar nuggets for food. It all falls into your imagination..

There is nothing less frightening than being different from other people, I gotta say. There is nothing wrong in having radical, organically-developed mind, and being a dreamer. It is about letting your mind wander aimlessly, closing your eyes to space out for a little while, tuning out from the restless society, cruel reality, your surrounding mortality, and thinking about the unimaginable! The power of imagination is without riddles or questions, not circumscriptive, of marvelous intricacies, and it liberates you from your utmost being, most importantly. It is such aesthetic pleasure to human kind that we should enjoy, and a gift to which we should be forever grateful.

Save my day

2009-04-09T12:26:00.000+01:00

Save my day

Oh you saved my day

Dear you came and made me so aloof

The clocks were asleep

Stasis oh black kiss on the air

You're not another average superhero

Rescuing people trapped beneath the rubble

Found before it killed

My chivalry, it is not just a label

On her was a pair of eyes set from your visor

Beloved say your prayer

My fault to seek comfort upon you

She had begged, she went lamented

Another tale travelled across the town

The clouds benighted near the summit

Another contretemps of misgivings

Forgive me, he said without sympathy

He spoke out of his entirety

He stumbled upon his sanity

It's our misery, my dignity

I am fading, you are my almighty

I am fading..

You are my almighty