| Evolution |
[24 Sep 2005|11:37pm] |
People seem to think that evolution states that everything that exists exists for some purpose, and that only the best, most perfect forms of life can be chosen by evolution.
That's not true.
Evolution doesn't state that only the best can exist. It states that that which cannot exist does not exist. And that which can exist may exist.
It's like a drop of syrup spreading across a tabletop. The syrup spreads everywhere where there isn't a cup or a saltshaker etc., but it doesn't necessarily spread everywhere immediately, nor does it necessarily find the lowest spot immediately.
And we haven't even talked about the kid who bumps the table o_o.
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[28 Aug 2005|03:27am] |
Why do I get tears in my eyes when I watch Apollo 13? Or when I see a beautifully detailed photo of a galaxy far from here taken by Hubble? Or when I see a shuttle launch? Or when I fancy I see the international space station in the sky on a clear, cloudless night? Why do I sigh with such longing when I envision the way the moon dust plumed in the wake of Armstrong’s feet?
The same reason I’m a trekie.
People have favorite colors. Many can’t exactly explain why. They get to see it in their everyday life, and enjoy its presence, and think again the thoughts they feel when they see it. The same goes for their dreams. Everyday, they can catch a glimpse of bits and pieces of their dreams, and it reminds them that their dreams are real, and they’re reminded of all the reasons they love their dreams.
For those that dream of space, it’s different. You don’t have bits and pieces of it everyday to remind you that it’s actually there, that it is real. You don’t have constant reminders of all the reasons you love that dream. You have nothing but your own imagination to love it and keep loving it. But then, once in a great while, you do catch a glimpse of it. It’s those moments that you’re reminded that what you dream is real. It’s those moments that all in one second, you’re reminded of all the reasons you loved it, and why you stubbornly refused to quit on it.
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[10 Aug 2005|02:16am] |
If you asked any member of the crews of the Columbia or the Challenger whether they wanted to die, none of them would have said yes. If you asked them if they thought that their deaths should close the boundary of space to mankind, they would have with horror said no. They dedicated their lives to the exploration of a new frontier. From birth to death, they risked their lives every day driving our nations netoriously deadly highways and byways. One day of that life, they decided to risk their lives in an entirely different commute.
If you disagree with the space program, do so, but do not use these people's deaths as reasoning. To do so would be to insult their lives, their deaths, and their greatest dreams.
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[11 Jun 2005|12:02pm] |
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I don't think i'm going to be posting for a while (again for the now probably non-existant populus that reads my rants). Something's happened. And while i'm not at liberty to say why, held captive by a complete loss of words or strength of tounge, i would like to appologize to all that read this (null) and to those who never will, since my ceasing to post marks the beginning of an era of my life that may affect all who know me, come in contact with me, or will ever come in contact with me. It marks the beginning of my attempt to fix something, something that should have never gone wrong. It marks the beginning of what probably will result in the neglectment of my family and friends. It marks the beginning of the loss of much of what i am. I hope that when i come back out of this that i still have all of you, but, just like final exams, this thing must take over every aspect of my life. I must have nightmares about it; i must pace back and forth over it as the morning dawns; i must ramble on incoherently like a mad creature about it as i lay curled up in my bed about. And now, all to fix that one thing. Wish me luck x_x...
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| Can you explain, if truly my heart was made of icing... |
[06 Jun 2005|01:13am] |
"Baker Baker baking a cake
make me a day
make me whole again
and I wonder what's in a day
what's in your cake this time
I guess you heard he's gone to L.A.
he says that behind my eyes I'm hiding
and he tells me I pushed him away
that my heart's been hard to find
here
there must be something here
there must be something here
here
Baker Baker can you explain
if truly his heart was made of icing
and I wonder how mine would taste
maybe we could change his mind
I know you're late for your next parade
you came to make sure that I'm not running
well I ran from him in all kinds of ways
guess it was her turn this time
time
thought I'd make friends with time
thought we'd be flying
maybe not this time
Baker Baker baking a cake
make me a day
make me whole again
and I wonder if he's ok
if you see him say hi"
--Tori Amos
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| 24601 |
[22 May 2005|02:56am] |
It's not alright
It's not alright anymore...
And it's my fault...
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[21 May 2005|11:44pm] |
There's something to be said for the captin that goes down with his ship, something to be said about a scared 4 year old kid that walks down a dark hallway to get to his parents' room, or about a the man that jumps off a cliff when he discovers his wife is dead. There's something to be said for the person who waits to put the phone down until it turns to that harsh repetative tone that makes your heart stop for a moment, or for the student who walks out of an exam room and immediately smashes his fist through a window. There's something to be said about the doctor who would rather operate on himself than let another doctor touch him, or about the patient that refuses to take a pill because he doesn't want to resort to chemical treatment.
There's something to be said for one who clings to something and continues to want it passtionately, even after it's impossible...
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[13 May 2005|12:22am] |
Just so no one get's the wrong impression o_o
Though I would like the input of many, I understand that only two people read this o_o.
But if you're a visitor and you read anything you have thoughts on, you have NO EXCUSE FOR NOT COMMENTING O-O
bwhahahah o-o
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| The Tyrant |
[12 May 2005|11:45pm] |
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Why am i the way i am?
Is it because i've spent much of my comtemplation by myself? Have i really? I'm not sure. I guess i have comparitively. I talk philosophy to many people. I've had a great many discussions with people since the beginnings of my trek to develop my opinion on the world. I restricted them though. I viewed many of these discussions in light of my own perceptions. I guess that's an unavoidable characteristic of human communication, but i can't help but think that i applied myself more to it than most others. I'm not sure, but i think i actually forced myself to be alone in many of my thoughts. I look at myself now and sigh, and wish that i had a view of the world that i felt someone else shared with me. And of course i'm being popus to suggest that i'm the only one that's considered these thoughts. I try not to suggest that i'm the only one to think these thoughts, just that i've never precieved another with them, be that because of me, them, or the strange wiles of the world. I feel alone with my thoughts, and my passions, and my beliefs. Would i have felt differently if i had discussed more with people during their development? Perhaps. I talk alot with my girlfriend. She's perhaps the first that really got the full flood of my confused mind without my constraining it. She's perhaps the first to have her thoughts enter my mind without my constraining them, and i don't feel alone with her. Depite this, i still feel like i'm the only one to see the world as i do. In many cases, not even the basic concepts that i use are recognized by others. It's not that we see different things necessarily. As i said in my jello rant a few posts down, it's about cuts in the jello. They're using a completely different cookie cutter.
If that's really the case, wouldn't it mean that the difference of my thoughts from others is merely in words or labels? Wouldn't that then have been solved by having developed them with the thoughts of others in my mind? Perhaps not, for i don't think i would have developed what i did if they hadn't been "cut" or classified in the way i did.
I guess this is about to cease making sense, but i wonder why people that communicate more seem to have the same wants. Is it that commuication breeds similarity, or vice versa? Or both? It does seem logically that it would be both, but then i'm left with a haunting question in this confused ramble of a rant.
Why do i love the way i think so much? Of course, it does make sense that i would love what i think is truth, or at least, what i've convinced myself is truth. It disturbs me when i see one i love so much haunted by something that i feel includes no violation of honor (my version of honor) on their part. Yet perhaps what disturbs me even more is the thought that i'm to blame. In short words, i can't stand the though that my system of thought brought someone else to do something that they would regrett. It's not that i expect my system of thought to yeild no regrett. It's the thought that i've invaded someone's mind to the point of steering them in a direction they never would have gone, to the point of diminishing their own individuality. Have i let my loneliness get out of hand? Have i imposed myself? Have i limited freedom of those that i've gotten closest to?
That event i regrett...
More than loneliness...
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[10 May 2005|04:50pm] |
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Geronimo
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| Oh no, yet another bad play x_x |
[04 May 2005|05:24am] |
I had the chance to write another play for class. And here it is, so that i may yet torment you again with another bad play XD. It's based on Shakespeare's Richard III. It doesn't make much sense except in light of that. Ha, in fact, it doesn't make much sense in general. Let me know what you think XD.
"Brutus I, Tarquinius II
A one man play by Eric Kim.
Written with help from Clement Theater Works, Inc.
Copyright 2005, Kim Productions.
Introduction
Men of great deeds are not always men of good hearts. Ivan the Terrible of Russia achieved great things for his kingdom. Adolf Hitler shaped a battered Germany into an economic superpower, and conquered in a few months more than the Roman Empire had conquered in 300 years. President Theodore Roosevelt thrust the American people from a past of isolationalism into an era of world domination. But at heart, all these men waged war.
And war never changes…
At the dawn of the sixth century BC, Rome rules the Latin states, stretching 800 square kilometers forth from the river Tiber and the Italian coast. Tarquinius Superbus is king, and he rules with complete power, dominating the other noble families of Rome. He has a large and vital family, whom have become extravagant in the sweet drink of power. To the Romans, the Tarquinii become more odious each day. The fragile peace of Rome is about to shatter.
It is early 509 BC. Lucius Junius Brutus, a distant relative of Tarquinius Superbus, has seen his entire family cut down by the tyrant as possible usurpers for the Tarquinii throne. Only by feigning mental insanity has Brutus escaped the blade of the King, and for years he has carried on his act. He is kept around the royal palace as mere entertainment to the Tarquinii sons and their father, who has no idea how lucid his unobtrusive grandchild really is. The legendary Lucretia, purest and most gentle of the noble wives of Rome, has just been raped by one of the Tarquinii sons, and her husband, Lucius Tarquinius Collatinus, has be cried her suicide to the other Roman nobles. Brutus, upon hearing this, takes up the iron rod used to murder the fair Lucretia and swears in vengeance to kill all the Tarquinii family. He runs to the Roman forum, and there calls to the Roman people to expel the Tarquins, to burn the robes of the king, to free Rome from her monarchy.
***Scene 1***
Inner chamber of the Roman Imperial Palace. The setting is simple, two pillars on either side of the stage and a single stone bench in the center pointed out towards the audience. Outside, shouts of Romans can be heard. One stands out, and we hear him faintly finish his speech as Brutus (in armor) enters “We shall no longer bow! Our day has come! The Romans shall no longer bow down! We shall no longer bow to the king who shall defile our pure and innocent! We shall take what is ours, what has always been ours!”
Brutus enters and leans against a pillar.
Brutus: (with a nearly uncontainable smile) Now is the winter of our discontent. Now, here, by the gods, Tarquinius will fall at the hands of mere plebeians.
He bursts at the last word into sadistic, mocking laughter and walks briskly to center stage. He stands behind the bench and speaks to the audience.
Brutus: (mockingly) No one will fight for him. Not even his own soldiers. The plague has been spread, and the fever is high. “Republic” they call! Listen!
He cups his hand around his ear and we hear shouts of “Res Publica Roma!” faintly from outside. He slowly drops his hand from his ear and turns to face the audience.
Brutus: They call for the master of their dreams, the pinnacle of all they have ever hoped for. They think his name is “Republic…”
He leans down on the bench as if about to confide in the audience.
Brutus: They are fools.
He again bursts into laughter as he turns to sit down on the bench. He spins around to face the audience.
Brutus: (calmly, but deeply felt) For he is but a passing shade. He is but a puppet in a larger play. And Brutus has his hand up his backbone. Brutus rattles his bones and commands him to call out for and end to the kings.
He stands up and looks off into the distance, his voice starting at a low hiss and slowly booming more and more as he speaks.
Brutus: And it shall not be all kings but this king. So long have I been the fool. So long have I entertained these things (indicates the Tarquinii) at the expense of my dead father, at the expense of my dead mother. So long have I waited in the dark, hobbled in the shadows, lisped my words to the sons of damned Tarquinius for their puerile pleasure. Now, I strike. Now, I strike venom into their hearts and cast shadows over their suns. For to them I am the villain. Scoffs. Well, now I shall be the villain. Now I shall have what should always have been mine. Now, (dramatic pause, then staccato with emphasis) I shall be Emperor!
He turns his body to reveal in his hand an iron rod. He faces off stage and calls to Tarquinius.
Brutus: The bell tolls, Tarquinius! And it is for thee! To summon thee to Hell!
He exits offstage the opposite from his entrance.
***Scene 2***
Same setting. Offstage, we can hear trumpets and numerous cries of “Viva Republica!”. Finishing as Brutus enters, we can faintly hear a speech, “And here today it begins. Rome shall never again suffer the burden of the kings for no such man shall ever again be given the power to become a tyrant. No single man shall be empowered with the force to govern all Romans. All shall bear witness today the election of these two Consulates shall forever place the will of Rome in men, and that no man again shall singularly hold vice over the sons of Mars!” Brutus enters, wearing the robes of a Consul elect. He walks briskly to the bench and sits with his back to the audience.
Brutus: (Beginning to laugh) A fool, I am no longer.
Throwing his head back in laughter, he spins around to again face the audience.
Brutus: Who could have known the people of Rome could be swayed so easily. Years as an actor have served me well; for now, none can see the shadow that now festers within the walls of Rome.
He leans to one side, extending his opposite foot and resting his elbow on his leg in a subtle kingly pose.
Brutus: So, Lucius Collatinus is to rule with me. Joint, Consular rule. Lucius Tarquinius Collatinus (he emphasizes the “Tarquinius” mockingly) ?
He begins to laugh.
Brutus: That fool has turned out to be more useful than I could have possibly imagined. His wife Lucretia was not the first to be so violated by Sextus. And yet he, with his loud, insufferable tongue had to bemoan her. He brought, with news of her death, the perfect solution to all my problems. He brought revolution!
He gets up abruptly and slowly steps towards the audience. He speaks again as if confiding in the audience.
Brutus: The Romans seek to install a Tarquin in the newly metamorphosized throne of Rome. (mockingly) I must warn the people before this dastardly whore of a Tarquin re-seizes what they have fought and won. (pause) (with a grin) In the name of the Republic.
He exits in the direction he came.
***Scene 3***
Same Setting. Outside, we can hear the chanting of a crowd: “Kill them!” … “Death to traitors of the Republic!” ... “Long live the Republic!” … that eventually becomes the unified, haunting chant that could have been from years later in the coliseum: “Kill! Kill! Kill!”. The chant continues, intensifies, then is suddenly silenced. A loud, low drum roll shakes the ground. Then there is silence. Brutus enters wearing the robes and garland of the Consul. He walks slowly and with composure. He halts halfway between a pillar and the bench. Pause. After a moment…
Brutus: Tarquinius still lives.
There is a profound pause. Brutus remains erect, but it is obvious that he is starting to loose composure. His eyes fall towards the ground.
Brutus: And now my sons do not…
More silence. Brutus walks solemnly over to the bench and sits facing the audience. He continues to look down.
Brutus: (after a moment) How could they? (His voice becomes harsher, as if charging with anger) How could they betray me to Tarquinius (he emphasizes “Tarquinius”). (He shouts) Those traitors!
He flings himself from the seat and stands for a moment eyes to the audience. Then, in silence, he begins looking at the ground again.
Brutus: (with level voice again) They died a traitor’s death. So to all who oppose Brutus! So to all…And soon, very soon, so to Tarquinius…Soon ‘twill be at an end. Soon it will end…
He trails off. He sits back down, still not having raised a glance at the audience.
Brutus: Father, forgive me. I have murdered your kin…I have murdered you…By striking at Tarquinius? No. I killed all those who would support him. I keep you alive! (fervently) I strike at your murderer! I protect Rome! (pause, then solemnly) I kill your grandchildren...
There is a long, solemn pause.
Brutus: I looked into the traitors’ eyes as they died. Valerius and the Senate would have me pardon them. But I would see them dead. So too would I watch with relish the death of any who oppose me! I stared into their eyes and watched them die. (weaker, almost whispered) I stared…into their eyes… (pause) I killed them…
Another long pause. Brutus gets up and walks slowly over to a pillar while addressing the audience.
Brutus: Fool, do not flatter. Fool, do not let yourself be clouded by thought. You have killed traitors. For they opposed you. You love you. You love Rome. You hate Tarquinius. So that they plotted with him, they are your enemies. You hate them.
He leans forehead and body against a pillar.
Brutus: But I do not hate them…But how can I love they who conspire with those I hate? The enemy of my father? My mother? My family? (With loathing) Tarquinius…
He leans and is still.
Brutus: (addressing himself) Fool, it is done. There is no changing what has passed. No denying…what I am. Fool (pause), you are a fool…
Profound silence.
Brutus: But now Aruns comes. The sons of Tarquinius come for vengeance. Tarquinius comes to take back what is his… (pause) What is not his. What is mine. Never again shall he touch these stones. Never again…For Tarquinius, I shall wipe this world clean of you. Never again shall you touch Rome. Never again shall you violate what is mine…
Slight pause. Then he pulls himself erect and exits.
THE END
Conclusion
In the battle soon afterwards with Aruns, Tarquinius’s son, Brutus is killed. The Roman Republic he spawned, however, would survive the battle, and go on to become the glistening star of the world. The Republic, what he had once called a puppet, a shade now grew legs of its own, and marched over the entirety of the known world. Brutus was named, and is still known as, the founder of the Roman Republic. And yet, for this, he was no better than the evil he sought to control, to destroy. Rome would go on to do great things. The Republic idea would spread from Rome throughout the world (albeit slowly), changing the course of our world in ways that never could have been dreamed of by either Brutus or Tarquinius. Brutus is the founder of the Republic, the father of our most dear ideology today. But, as we can tell from this, despite his deeds, his heart was black. He was ironically exactly as he was cast by the Tarquinii family; he was a fool. A black-hearted fool."
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| My dear Eric... |
[04 May 2005|05:22am] |
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Eric, m'friend, my dear hopeless romantic
We know how to make flowers grow with tears.
But we could better deal with constantly wanting and not having, than both wanting and having...
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| It's funny that you should see it like that... |
[04 May 2005|02:46am] |
It's not necessarily that i like science. I do. I love science. I adore everything about it. But that's not the reason that i use it to explore this world of ours. It's that i can't possibly see using anything else. I can't see anything else yielding anything more than a delusion...
The Buddist creation myth is rather interesting. I forget his name, Panku? At first, there was nothing but the egg, and Panku sleeping inside. Then he awoke, and he looked about him. He looked at the shell that enclosed him, and concluded that the shell must be broken. He then pressed against the top of the shell with his shoulders and against the bottom of the shell with his feet, and with a mighty heave, cracked open the egg, and pushed the top half towards the sky. This became the heavens, and it's alternate half the earth. Panku, exausted after this terrible effort to crack the shell and drive it's boundaries far from him, fell to the ground, and soon after died. His blood and bones became part of the eart, giving it rivers and streams. It was on this ground that a man resided. I forget his name, but there was one resounding feature about him: he had no eyes or ears or mouth or nose. He presided over the middle. Great divine generals of the north and south always feuded, and frequently came to blows if diplomacy was not maintained. The man with no eyes, ears, nose, or mouth invited the generals of the north and the south to meet in the middle, that they might resolve their differences. Grateful for this service, the generals of the north and south resolved to give the man 7 orifices from which he might view the world he could not see or hear or smell or taste. Each day of the following 7 days, a hole was added to the man's head. At the end of the final day, the world sprang to life for the man, and he thanked the generals, for now all the world had finally come to his eyes.
Long, kinda confusing, and typical chinese.
And i think i probably got the story wrong -_-
But someone else told me a story about a shell recently...
One that she too intensely desires to break...
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[28 Apr 2005|03:56am] |
This is also Eric Kim o_o
Eric Kim o_o
</ul>
He's the Samsug Marketing Chief o-o.
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[26 Apr 2005|05:10am] |
hehe, i really am a love-sick fool aren't i? Ha, you know what? i need a muzzle, or something equivilant.
This seems to be the trend. I go nuts, fall into a depression of complete and utter dispair, frighten everyone, especially her, and generally make everyone's life scary and dark. Yep, definately signs of a romantically foolish fool. hehehe
My lady...
I'm sorry that i've dispaired. I'm caught up in a delusion, but it's not of love. I do not delude myself when i still dream of you and me together. As long as i am alive, i will work towards that. As long as we both live, i will always cling to that, not as a delusion, but as a dream...It's not of love, it's of your hate towards me, it's of my being trapped in a corner without escape. I've deluded myself into believing that we're loosing each other...
It's difficult. It's getting very difficult. The pain by this point is incredibly intense. But...Through all of this, my vision has been obscured by worry and dispair, and i've been blind to a simple fact: you still love me... I love you. That will never change, as i've attested a thousand times by now x_x. And you still love me; you've been saying it over and over. You've never said anything truly to the contrary. In my panic of late, i've forgotten this. I've been completely blind, and time and again i have, for the sake of worry, never accepted fully this simple concept. I've repeated again and again to you and myself that i love you, but with that, i never addressed the true core of my troubles. I was so terrified that you no longer loved me...but i'm a fool. I hope i don't sound arrogant. I don't take your love for granted at all. In fact, recently, i've been doubting it with far too much tenacity. I'm an untrusting fool, even to you apparently. And of all people in this world that i should trust, i should trust you my lady. And i do. I trust you when you say that everything is okay. I trust you when you say that it's not my fault. And i trust you when you, in your many subtle and blunt ways, say that you love me. I'm sorry that i've caused you such worry and frustration with this. It was completely unnecessary and i'm sorry. Whatever happens, i'm with you. I'll help you through all of these times. And i shall always trust you, just like the innocent Asian romantic fool-creature i am :).
I love you...
I love you enough to trust you...
Completely...
I love you......<3...
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[25 Apr 2005|11:02pm] |
Ha, i read that previous mess and discovered a contradiction. Well, a seeming one.
I said i would never stop loving her.
But now i say that i can't hold on any more.
Looks like a contradiction. But not really.
For this is the tragedy:
I shall always love her.
But i can't hold on to her anymore.
I will be forever without her, and forever pained by the want for something that is nothing more now than a delusion...
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[25 Apr 2005|10:56pm] |
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I want to ask why you hate me. I want to pretend as if i don't know. I want to believe you when you say it's not my fault. But it doesn't matter. Regardless of who's fault it is, i'm loosing you, little by little. I'm clinging for dear life on a razor blade. So i guess that's it. I can't hold on anymore...The blood is getting too slippery, the flesh is too much sheered away from me. I cannot live without my heart. But i cannot hold on without my hand, I cannot reach without my arm. They're gone now, passed like carrots for a stew under the knife. And i'm falling into a tragedy from which there is no escape or comfort. For i cannot live without my heart...And it's fallen away with my arms, with my hands, cut away with my ability to reach, away with my hope...
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