"When did we get so old?"

My friend asked me, watching the fight while taking another drag of his cigarette.

I took another drag too.

It's a horrifying thought, being able to reminisce about the "good ol' days", when we aren't even old, and it wasn't so long ago. Is this what a quarter-life crisis feels like?

I can't find joy in the things I used to enjoy. I can't relax knowing that in the back of my mind, there's always work to be done. The rote gears of programming and calculation must be turned. Machinery needs to be oiled; yes. If it stops running it rusts. Is alcohol the solution? No. It can't be anymore. In college, it was the status quo. Out of college, it's alcoholism.

Cigarette, Yes. Smoke patterns in the air. I wish all of life were this abstract: the ability to discern shapes out of nothing. The ability to fabricate out of mere shadows and apparitions. No, but life is not mere dreams. Life is hard, calculating, gritty. Everything is based on empiricism, research built on research built on research. Nothing can be proved without something. Numbers, facts... these are what support our technological foundation. These are what are real. As Sagan said, "we live in a society exclusively built on Science and Technology in which hardly anyone knows about Science and Technology." How do I succeed in my field? Know Science and Technology. Simple, machine-like precision.

But we aren't machines, are we? Are we cogs? Yes, they train us to process like silicon boxes. But why do I still feel emotion? Why is it that I need something more visceral? Is our innate capacity to love a weakness? Sometimes it seems as such. Distractions from our real goals: productive members of society. Drops in the sea of erudition. Ripples in the ocean of progress.

Study, solve, sleep, eat. Study. Solve. Sleep. Eat. Every wave brings me closer to steely indifference. Gears turning into the infinite expanse of time.



... I need to get some sleep.

Dear Neighbors,

Thanks for your thoughtfulness in putting a Christmas card in our mailbox, though we hardly know you. However, please don't let your generosity be a medium by which you can remind others how they could burn in hell if they don't worship your religion. Please be reminded that not everyone thinks like you, or comes from the same cultural background. In fact, our diversity is what makes us human. I hope you can ruminate over this a bit before you decide to "spread the gospel" all over again next season.

All the Best,

Kan and the Roommates next door.

Reactions in the Arabic World to Bush's Shoe Incident

All of these are quite amusing and deserving:

"When it became evident that George Bush, the outgoing US president, is incapable of understanding all that is being said about his rash policies, in all the languages of the world, it was necessary to invent a new language that Bush might understand, and it was the language of shoe-throwing."

- Ghazi Al-Dada from Syria's Tishrin

"Iraqi journalist Muntadar al-Zaidi's shoes have made history. The shoe he threw at Bush will always haunt [the president] even after he leaves the White House, and will upset him whenever he remembers the incident. This is the end of all tyrants who shed the people's blood and despise human rights in order to achieve their arrogant aspirations."

-Musib Nuaimi from Iran's Al-Vefagh

"He [Bush] never expected that the expression of opposition to reach this level of intensity, particularly knowing that, in the oriental tradition, shoes are associated with contempt and dirt."

- Yusuf Al-Kuwaylit in Saudi Arabia's Al-Riyadh

"This is a farewell suitable for a war criminal and terrorist who led the world towards moral degeneration, terrorism and violence for eight years. The scene of the shoe being thrown is the only one that is suitable for US President George Bush. This is a free Iraqi expressing the feelings of the Iraqi people."

- Mustafa Al-Sawwaf in Gaza's Filastin

This is a warning for the United States' new era. Those who will follow Bush's policies will receive the same farewell at the end of their term in office. Hopefully, Barack Obama will realise that, deep inside, Arab and Muslim peoples wish to bid him farewell with flowers at the end of his term in office.

Ra'uf Shahuri in Lebanon's Al Anwar

Et tu, Programme?

FINALS.

:-(

My reach is global, My tower secure. My cause is noble, My power is pure.

My favorite PostSecret post of all time:

To the bigots and fear-mongerers of the world: please kindly go hibernate in your trailers/stay in a coors-light-induced drunken stupor/aim your guns at the faces of old white men for the next 4 years. Or 8.

Seasons are changing, waves are crashing, and stars are falling all for us

"I see a thousand hills crimsoned through
By their serried woods deep-dyed,
And a hundred barges vying
Over crystal blue waters.
Eagles cleave the air,
Fish glide in the limpid deep;
Under freezing skies a million creatures contend in freedom.
Brooding over this immensity,
I ask, on this boundless land
Who rules over man's destiny?"

- Mao Zedong

Taken at Poquoson, VA on 10/27/07

Belgium Series, Part 5:

It's good to be the King.

Taken on 5/24/08 at the Vorstenhuisplein in the Park van Laeken, Bruxelles, Belgium

Belgian Trappists

Trappist Monasteries: Purveyors of some of the best beers in the world
(Clockwise, from left bottom): Rochefort 10 (Abbaye de Notre-Dame de Saint-Rémy, Quadrupel, 11.3% ABV), Chimay Grand Réserve (Abbaye de Scourmont, Belgian Strong Dark Ale, 9% ABV), Orval Trappist Ale (Abbaye de Notre-Dame d'Orval, Belgian Pale Ale, 6.9% ABV), Achel 8° Brune (Brouwerij der St.Benedictusabdij de Achelse, Dubbel, 8% ABV), Westmalle Trappist Tripel (Abdij der Trappisten van Westmalle, Tripel, 9.5% ABV), Westvleteren Bruin 12 (Sint-Sixtusabdij van Westvleteren, Quadrupel, 10.2% ABV)

Not pictured: the 7th Trappist abbey which produces beer, Bierbrouwerij de Koningshoeven in The Netherlands

Dejected

Belgium Series, Part 4:

Why so serious(ly old)?

(McCain '08!)

Taken behind the Institut von Kármán de Dynamique des Fluides in Sint-Genesius-Rode, Belgium: an old sports center closed since 2001

Oud Beersel

Belgium Series, Part 3: Beersel Castle dates back to the 13th century. It's been modified and modified again since then. What ghosts and stories still haunt its ramparts? How many feet have stepped on its bricks to cause such wear? What scent of the past is still contained within those walls?

Taken in Beersel, Belgium on 5/18/08

Stoic

Belgium Series, Part 2:
"Yo soy el constructor de las estatuas. No tengo nombre.
No tengo rostro. El mío se desvió hasta correr
sobre la zarza y subir impregnando las piedras.
Ellas tienen mi rostro petrificado,
la grave soledad de mi patria."

- Pablo Neruda

Statues on the facade of the Bruxelles City Hall
Grand Place, Bruxelles, Belgium
Taken on 5/17/08

Arrival

This is an attempt for me to reconstruct (somewhat) chronologically my time in Europe and all the best pictures that I took.

Belgium Series, Part 1: Amongst all the dense foliage and ancient cottages, I thought: "wow, what a veritable garden. What dream have I planted myself in now?"

Taken at Rue de l'École 20, Rhode St. Genèse, Belgium.

Autumn Sunset.

Taken 11/7/08 near the town of West Friendship, Maryland on the MD 144 Scenic Route.

I AM A DELETION ADDICT

Deleting Facebook, Flickr, Blogs... I can never stick with anything. They're all gone, wiped clean in a fit of rage.

This is my attempt to rectify what I've done wrong, to recover my old blog, Joyfully Lost, bit by bit, word by word, a picture a day.

Let's see how long I can hold out for. 365? Probably not. But it's worth a start.

Here's the first day's picture:

Things light anew.

Cafe Quetzal, Gent, Belgium.