Curiosity

By Alastair Reid

may have killed the cat; more likely
the cat was just unlucky, or else curious
to see what death was like, having no cause
to go on licking paws, or fathering
litter on litter of kittens, predictably.

Nevertheless, to be curious
is dangerous enough. To distrust
what is always said, what seems
to ask odd questions, interfere in dreams,
leave home, smell rats, have hunches
do not endear cats to those doggy circles
where well-smelt baskets, suitable wives, good lunches
are the order of things, and where prevails
much wagging of incurious heads and tails.

Face it. Curiosity
will not cause us to die–
only lack of it will.
Never to want to see
the other side of the hill
or that improbable country
where living is an idyll
(although a probable hell)
would kill us all.

Only the curious have, if they live, a tale
worth telling at all.

Dogs say cats love too much, are irresponsible,
are changeable, marry too many wives,
desert their children, chill all dinner tables
with tales of their nine lives.
Well, they are lucky. Let them be
nine-lived and contradictory,
curious enough to change, prepared to pay
the cat price, which is to die
and die again and again,
each time with no less pain.
A cat minority of one
is all that can be counted on
to tell the truth. And what cats have to tell
on each return from hell
is this: that dying is what the living do,
that dying is what the loving do,
and that dead dogs are those who do not know
that dying is what, to live, each has to do.

Hmmm I never really was a cat person but if that’s what it means to be a “cat”, well, slap me some cat ears and get ready for my best meow because I AM ONE!

hahaha.

Ta.

Technorati Tags: cat, alastair, reid, curiosity, poem, poetry, life, death, change, risks

Al Pacino’s speech from Any Given Sunday

I don’t know what to say really.
Three minutes
to the biggest battle of our professional lives
all comes down to today.
Either
we heal
as a team
or we are going to crumble.
Inch by inch
play by play
till we’re finished.
We are in hell right now, gentlemen
believe me
and
we can stay here
and get the **** kicked out of us
or
we can fight our way
back into the light.
We can climb out of hell.
One inch, at a time.
Now I can’t do it for you.
I’m too old.
I look around and I see these young faces
and I think
I mean
I made every wrong choice a middle age man could make.
I uh….
I pissed away all my money
believe it or not.
I chased off
anyone who has ever loved me.
And lately,
I can’t even stand the face I see in the mirror.
You know when you get old in life
things get taken from you.
That’s, that’s part of life.
But,
you only learn that when you start losing stuff.
You find out that life is just a game of inches.
So is football.
Because in either game
life or football
the margin for error is so small.
I mean
one half step too late or to early
you don’t quite make it.
One half second too slow or too fast
and you don’t quite catch it.
The inches we need are everywhere around us.
They are in ever break of the game
every minute, every second.
On this team, we fight for that inch
On this team, we tear ourselves, and everyone around us
to pieces for that inch.
We CLAW with our finger nails for that inch.
Cause we know
when we add up all those inches
that’s going to make the ******* difference
between WINNING and LOSING
between LIVING and DYING.
I’ll tell you this
in any fight
it is the guy who is willing to die
who is going to win that inch.
And I know
if I am going to have any life anymore
it is because, I am still willing to fight, and die for that inch
because that is what LIVING is.
The six inches in front of your face.
Now I can’t make you do it.
You gotta look at the guy next to you.
Look into his eyes.
Now I think you are going to see a guy who will go that inch with you.
You are going to see a guy
who will sacrifice himself for this team
because he knows when it comes down to it,
you are gonna do the same thing for him.
That’s a team, gentlemen
and either we heal now, as a team,
or we will die as individuals.
That’s football guys.
That’s all it is.
Now, whattaya gonna do?

If you REALLY WANT TO WATCH THE SPEECH, it’s HERE

Now it’s time to fight for that inch, kiddies.

High School was fun but… my fashion sense was WHACK. I dug up these old highschool pics. Check ‘em out:

Good Lord, my fashion radar was non-existent.

Big shirt

Baggy pants

WHY!? Now, I wouldn’t be caught wearing a shirt that’s goes WAAAAAY yond my waist.

WRONG.

WRONG.

WRONG.

This, on the other hand SCREAMS sexiness.

Hoody

Jeans

Quaffed Hair

Tommy Iommi Gibson SG

and this too:

Half opened long-sleeved shirt

ponytail hair

15-year old smile

plain blue shirt

jeans.

PASS.

VANITY.

I miss school.

I may be forever branded as a dork for saying so… but yes, I MISS SCHOOL.

The projects, the deadlines, the crappy food, the awesome teachers, cutting class, free cuts, the borrowing of pens, photocopying ungodly amounts of notes, not listening, sleeping in the library, smoking in between classes (ALTHOUGH I’VE QUIT IT. Clean Slate for ‘08! Been smoke free since dec. 31. THANKYOU. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE), sleeping during philosophy, being sent out during theology, ACCOUNTING AND FINANCE, creative writing, comics class…

I COULD list a whole lot more of things I miss about school but I think this site’s bandwith couldn’t handle it. I was browsing through my old blog a little while back and I came upon this. I wrote this little compelling piece of literature after I graduated college:

I was walking around katipunan earlier this evening. I didn’t know where to go. no one was replying to my incessant pleadings to kick back and have a beer. you know who you are. and once again, the mind tends to drift and wander and reflect and question. I’ve been studying (ergo, almost all of those my age) for around, give or take 19 years, (I started school when i was 2 and a half years old), and now, I’ve been yanked from the role I fill out as *insert name here* that I’ve been portraying for the past 21 years. Now, I don’t wake up to the routine anymore. the routine I’ve always ranted about, the routine I’ve always yearned to break away from. ironically (with a kind of masterful twist), I’m searching for that monotony. I search for it’s predictability and stability. You wake up, yosi, breakfast, yosi, bath, yosi, go to school, yosi, study, flirt, laugh, yosi, beer, blueskies, home, simpsons, aquateen hunger force, seinfeld, sleep. It’s simple. Throw in an occasional project or two and it’s fine. I find myself longing for the safety of routine. I never thought I’d worry about where I should apply for. Ever since I was kid, all I wanted to do was write and play videogames. Oh and advertising and marketing, that’s it. I miss the promise and safety of routine.

Man, did I make a point there! Thing is, as human beings, we are afraid of the unknown, the uncharted. Our nagging fear of not venturing out into distant lands urges us to stay where we are. To be content with and be happy with it.

To compromise.

Who knew I’d end up where I am right now… I’ve become the Bizarro version of my college self; that same version of me that thought of himself as indestructible, immovable and superior.

However.

‘08 has become a pleasant surprise for me. I’ve changed, I’ve sacrificed and now, I’m doing things I never thought I’d be doing again. Details don’t matter. The point is, and bearing a quite striking irony, PRESENT ME is much, much better than OLD ME. If PRESENT ME and OLD ME met in a dank bar somewhere, OM would laugh at the face of PM. Mock him, insult him and basically say how much of a spineless worm he is. PM me, on the other hand, would just flash a very heart-melting smile (I RARELY smiled before) and just say…

Basta

Technorati Tags: thoughts,me,past,history,school,college,change

Part 2 focuses on the evil and cunning Chromatic Dragons.

Black Dragon:

Black dragons (a.k.a. "Skull Dragons") are the most vile tempered and cruel of all chromatic dragons. Physically, black dragons are most distinguished by their horns, which protrude from the sides of their heads and wrap around, projecting forward. A large frill adorns the upper part of the neck. They smell like rotting vegetation and foul water, or like the powerful acid they can breathe.

Black dragons are fierce hunters that will normally attack from the water. They will often prey on fish, crabs, birds, turtles, crocodiles, lizardfolk, chuuls, hydras, and green dragons that are smaller and younger than they are. Their enemies include green dragons and swamp landwyrms.

Blue Dragon:

Blue dragons are the second most powerful of the classic chromatic dragons. They are physically distinguished by the single large horns protruding from their heads and also by their ears, which are rather large and frilled. The tail is thick and bumpy, like that of a caterpillar. The wings are more pronounced than most other species’. They smell like ozone or sand.

They are more likely to be mocking and manipulative than outrightly cruel or murderous to ‘lesser’ creatures, aided greatly by their natural talents for hallucination. They are infamous for tricking desert travelers into drinking sand or going miles out of their way to avoid nonexistent dust basins.

Green Dragon:

Green dragons are the third most powerful of the classic chromatic dragons. Physically, they are most notable for the large, waving crest or fin that starts at the dragon’s nose and runs the entire length of the dragon’s body. They also have exceptionally long, slender forked tongues. They smell like chlorine gas and are highly adept at magic.

Green dragons revel in combat, and will often attack for no apparent reason. They are highly territorial, and will often view any intrusion into their domain, voluntary or not, as a personal affront. They are extremely cunning and duplicitous foes, and love double-crossing others. A traveler who stumbles into a green dragon’s territory may be able to bribe the dragon for safe passage, but more often than not the dragon will pretend to agree and then attack the unsuspecting offender once their guard is down. Though aggressive, green dragons prefer to use magic before attacking physically.

Red Dragon:

Red dragons are the largest, most powerful, and most (in)famous of the classic chromatic dragons. Physically, they are distinguished by their enormous size and wingspan. They have two large horns upon their heads, which point backwards toward their wings. They smell of smoke and sulphur.

In combat, red dragons are exceptionally dangerous. Proficient in magic, they are also very fast in the air, but somewhat clumsy, so they prefer to do their fighting on the ground. They often spend years designing battle strategies, and will wait patiently until the precisely best moment to call upon them. Their massive blasts of fire end most battles before they truly begin, however. As a result, red dragons will use their powerful breath weapons as their favored method of attack, followed by power strikes from their massively powerful bodies, followed by magical attacks.

White Dragon:

White dragons are the weakest and the most feral of the classic chromatic dragons, but they are by no means harmless, if somewhat dimmer than other dragons due to the inbreeding necessary to create an animal that could resist the frigid temperatures that white dragons endure. They are still powerful enough to overwhelm most humans and have exceptional long-term memories. They are physically distinguished by several features: their heads and necks seem to blend seamlessly into one another, and their wings appear somewhat frayed along the edges. They have a flap of skin (dewlap) lined with spines beneath their chins. Their heads are very streamlined, and they have a high crest atop their skulls. They have a crisp, vaguely chemical odor.

If you haven’t figured it out, I used to be a big Dungeons and Dragons nut. When you think of D&D, you’ll think of… well… Dragons!

Anyway, D&D classifies dragons into two types: Chromatic and Metallic. Metallic dragoons are the good guys while the Chromatic ones do otherwise. Today, I’ll feature the heroic AND noble Metallic dragons.

Brass Dragon:

Brass dragons are the weakest of the metallic dragons, and one of the most benign of all species of dragon. They love to talk, to the exclusion of much else. They love to engage friends and foes alike in hours of long-winded conversation. It is not unusual for a brass dragon to be fluent in several hundred different languages, although they (obviously) prefer to converse in Draconic whenever possible.

Physically, the brass dragon is highly distinctive. From below, its outstretched wings form a triangular shape, as they are attached to its body all the way to the tip of its tail. The wings are longest at the shoulder, and taper gently as they reach the tail. Their scales seem to radiate heat and light. The shape of the head is quite unusual, as it includes a large, curved plate that extends from the dragon’s eyes and cheeks on either side and curves upwards into two points. They have two sharp horns on the chin, which become steadily pointier as the dragon ages. They smell like metal.

Bronze Dragon:

Bronze dragons are the third most powerful of the metallic dragons. They truly enjoy observing and interacting with smaller creatures, most especially humans. They will often go out of their way to help them, such as rescuing humans from a shipwreck or a dangerous foe. In many of these instances, the bronze dragon will transform itself into a human, so that those who it helps never know who really did the rescuing. They never seek payment for their help, in any form. They always seek justice as best they can, and cannot abide to see any creature being treated with cruelty of any sort. The older the dragon, the more pronounced that this passion for justice becomes. They are probably the most social species of dragon, and often swim and play together in groups. They also love to attend human festivals and parties, although usually in human form.

Physically, the bronze dragon is quite fierce in appearance, despite its good nature. While most of its body is a reflective copper color, the wings are often tipped with green. The dragon has three large horns protruding from each cheek, pointing back towards the tail. The tips of these points are black and very sharp, and are often used for grooming. The tongue is purple-gray, long and pointed, and not forked. A large frill runs down the upper part of its neck. They smell like sea-spray.

Copper Dragon:

Copper dragons are the second weakest of the metallic dragons. They are born tricksters and jokesters. They are quite devious and clever, but their intent is purely benign. They do not seek to harm ‘lesser’ creatures, but merely wish to impress them with superior intelligence and wit, and to fool them with clever pranks.

Physically, the copper dragon is very striking, with scales of a warm copper color tinged with blue. Like the brass dragon, the copper dragon’s wings connect to its body all the way to the tip of its tail. However, its wings have a pronounced bend to them, giving them the appearance of a "V" from below, rather than the brass dragon’s triangular appearance. Copper dragons are powerful jumpers and climbers, with massive thigh and shoulder muscles. Their two horns are broad and flat, pointing backwards towards the tail from the top of their heads. They also have a distinctive frill protruding from either jaw. When the mouth is closed, the teeth are completely hidden. They exude a stony odor.

Gold Dragon:

Gold dragons are the most powerful of the metallic dragons, and the most dedicated to defeating evil. They spend the bulk of their lives in human form, seeking out evil and punishing wrongdoers to the best of its considerable abilities. Its typical mode of operation runs roughly along the lines of a sting operation: the dragon will listen for stories of dangerous or evil creatures or persons, then reveal its true form and mete out punishment. They prefer to turn villains over to law enforcement if available, but will ultimately take whatever actions they deem necessary in order to see justice served. They are best summarized as the paladins of the Draconic world.

Physically, gold dragons are quite spectacular. Several large horns tipped with umber shoot sideways from their cheeks, and two very prominent horns point backwards along their heads. The most obvious feature is probably the tentacle whiskers that sprout from the top and bottom of the gold dragon’s jaw, giving the appearance of a beard of sorts. Their wings, like those of brass and copper dragons, connect to the body all the way to the tip of the tail. From below, the overall shape resembles that of a brass dragon, but the different coloring and dramatic difference in size enables easy differentiation. When in flight, the gold dragon’s wings ripple, giving the appearance of swimming rather than flying. They smell of saffron and incense.

Silver Dragon:

Silver dragons (aka "shield dragons") are the second most powerful of the metallic dragons, and are true friends to all. The silver dragon enjoys the company of humans and elves so much that it will often take the form of a human or elf and live among them for the majority of its life. It should be noted that silvers, like all dragons, believe themselves the most superior creatures in the world. However, apart from the ability to fly, which they enjoy greatly, they tend to prefer the physical forms of humanoids for everyday life.

At first glance, the silver dragon appears very similar to the white dragon. The wings are more curved than a white’s though, and the silver has two talons on its wings rather than the single talon of most dragons. The silver dragon also has a beautiful frill that begins at the top of its head and flows all the way down its neck and body to the tip of the tail. The frill is silver towards the body, fading to a purple hue at the edge. They have two long, smooth silver horns with black tips, pointing up and back from the head. They also have a pronounced sharp frill under the chin, which has the rough appearance of a goatee. They smell like rain.

It’s universal knowledge that Heath Ledger is no longer with us, but that doesn’t mean that he’s not loved. WELOVEYAHEATH!

10. It’s the accent, mate.

9. “You have been weighed, you have been measured and you have been found wanting.”

8. The way he swooned Julia Stiles in 10TIHAY

7. He’s named after the cat named well… Heathcliff (I hope)

6. He played JOKER!

5. A Knight’s Tale.

4. Ten Things I Hate About You.

3. His hair.

2. His smile.

1. The mere fact that he is Heath Ledger.

We take a lot of things for granted… a pen, is an example. Who would care if one lost a pen? Heck, the world is OVERFLOWING with pens. But think about this: what would happen if we didn’t have pens? Societies would collapse, documents would go unsigned, autographs will be non-existent and so will peashooters be.

I encountered this write-up for a Bic ballpen in Amazon, but I’m assuming most of you are lazy to click the link, I posted it here. Yay!

Since taking delivery of my pen I have been very happy with the quality of ink deposition on the various types of paper that I have used. On the first day when I excitedly unwrapped my pen (thanks for the high quality packaging Amazon!) I just couldn’t contain my excitement and went around finding things to write on, like the shopping list on the notice board in our kitchen, the Post-it notes next to the phone, and on my favourite lined A4 pad at the side of my desk.
My pen is the transparent type with a blue lid. I selected this one in preference to the orange type because I like to be able to see how much ink I have left so that I can put in another order before I finally run out.
When the initial excitement of taking delivery of my new pen started to wear off I realised that I shouldn’t just write for the fun of it, this should be a serious enterprise, so by the second day of ownership I started to take a little more care of what I wrote. I used it to sign three letters, and in each case was perfectly happy with the neatness of handwriting that I was able to achieve.
I have a helpful tip for you that you might not know about - if you let the ink dry for a few seconds you can avoid the smudging that sometimes happens if you rub the ink immediately after writing. Fortunately the ink used in this particular Bic pen seems to dry very quickly.
On the third day of ownership I went on a trip to London and took my pen carefully packed away in my brief case, but I needn’t have worried, this isn’t some temperamental ink pen that leaks when you store it at the wrong angle. I sat at my meeting and confidently removed the cap from my pen and it wrote flawlessly, almost immediately.
I notice that the barrel of the pen has been crafted very carefully to fit in the pen holder down the edge of my Filofax. It’s not so grippy so that it is hard to remove when I want to make a quick note, and yet not so loose that it falls out too easily when I open my Filofax in a hurry. Maybe the choice of surface texture on the pen has some part to play here, because it seems that the inside of the leather grip on the pen holder in my Filofax has just the right level of adhesion that I can be confident when I need to reach in and get my pen it’s going to be just where I left it!
Today is the fourth day of ownership of my pen, and I have to say I’m starting to treat it like an old friend. I walk around the office with it clipped in to my shirt pocket and someone in the accounts department actually asked to borrow it while we were both standing at the photocopier. Would you believe it, they actually tried to walk away with my pen! They were very embarrassed when I called after them as they walked down the corridor and asked for it back. You will be happy to know that it is now back, safe and sound in my top pocket, ready and waiting to start writing again.
In summary, I would happily recommend this pen to anyone who is planning on writing on paper. If you are considering a writing implement for some other surface such as writing on a CD, or other non-porous substances then another pen might be better suited, but if it’s just plain old paper then I think you will probably be well served by this particular model.

*Breathe*

Here’s what other people thought of the write-up:

What an excellent pen that must be, I’m not surprised that they are the worlds most popular. I am now considering purchasing some to give as Christmas presents to my closest friends. Although I am a little concerned about the possibility of my friends be robbed for the pens, it sounds like it could be quite a common occurrence and with the prevalence of knife crime in England as it is the number of friends I have could drop quite rapidly after Christmas.

What an excellent review, but I fear you have been blinded by this pens brilliance. There is a far superior pen on the market for a fraction of the price. The “Bic Four Colour” pen offers the superb craftsmanship that we would expect from Bic but with four colours. An Amazon review sums it all up - “Choice of blue, black, red and green ink. Ideal when information needs to be recorded in different colours”.

A little known alternative use for this pen is to remove the plastic end stopper and ink barrel and use it in classroom as a peashooter, blimey the fun we had

‘m afflicted with left-handedness; do you think it would be suitable for me to use, despite my disability?
Presumably there is some kind of ‘family friendly’ feature that prevents the pen from being used to write swear-words and rude doodles?

I live in the US. Will this pen work on our 8 1/2″ x 11″ paper, or is it only for use with A4 format?

Oh, by the way, 1,801 of 1,815 people found the write-up helpful.

That sure did clear the air when it comes to pens.

 BOOM

Or do I?

I’ve always wanted things reasonable. Who doesn’t? Not that I’m an idealist-perfectionist, but it’s just that there is a grim kind of comfort in things being known, in things having feasible, tight and logical explanations. Boring?

Yes. 

I have never been a huge fan of emotions. The heart, most especially. I hate it when it starts pounding inside your chest uncontrollably, your knees succumbing to the deep dark rhythm that seems to unlock the very hinges that give support to your body. 

The heart is an involuntary muscle — so much so that, at times, it interrupts your existence.

Ironic.

 
It’s been a fantastic conundrum, emotions. That’s why I’ve always wanted to give feelings some semblance of form - to define it. Maybe that’s why I obsess about art, music and poetry — in some (again) inexplicable way they seem to lend emotions a melody, a color, a figure that I can recognize, and perhaps comprehend. Still, everything eludes me.

It terrifies me, not just because I cannot seem to understand it, but even more so because the only thing I know is that I don’t want to bathe in the grim kind of comfort reason provides anymore.
Emotions are wild, and it is terrifying because we all know we’re drawn to its reckless abandon.

Our breaths invisibly embracing in air
The volt of your eyes illuminates the darkness hidden
inside the gloomy corner
of what lies between my chest
Nebulas forming in our mouths
The smoke coming out matches the galactic magic
of nebulas appearing in what we call “space”
Lights in a borealis,
your own constellation
flecked by dots of ash
flown on the jetblack of your pants
Lead ink, paper and eternity
Gray strokes and fire lines
construct images of our masterpiece
your grave unfolds into a
flawless sculpture made of kisses
we extract beauty out of obscurity
and we both put our imagination on paper
smeared on the porcelain of my skin
is your thumbmark etched in lead
I will never erase this
In our canvas is a dancing soul, marveling
taking its form out of the nothingness we both have
an epiphany of dancing souls drawn on paper
Celestial reveries of a forlorn spirit
stars are meant to be wished upon
and I wish to know what am I to you
Am I another cosmic fantasy?
A stellar dream?
Or am I a star too?
Unlike them,
I don’t want to wonder
I want to know
Unlike them,
I’m not scared
I’m scarred.