MRT Walks

Well, it's been quite some time since my last entry, and in the time in between my last entry this one, I've thought about a few things.

The first thought was that I should probably take sometime to stop and think about things for a second. I'm not quite sure why this thought arose, but it just did, and that's all that matters, I suppose.

The second thought was that Wordpad is in fact a lot better and user friendly that Notepad, so why do I even bother with the latter? After all, it takes care of all that formatting nonsense when I copy over text from Notepad into Word, but I probably won't be doing any of that from now on, so let's just move on.

The third thought, and probably the whole point of this entry, is that MRTs go really fast. I know that's probably been figured out for a long time now but a whole lot of people who didn't really bother to take note of that thought and write it down in blog entries, but that really doesn't matter as of now. What matters is that in the process of thinking that, another thought arose, namely the one a few lines (alright, two) below.

When you're riding an MRT, and you look down at the scenery, that's about all it is, isn't it? Just scenery. Someone could be running past a stationary train with big cardboard cutout sceneries and you'd still think that the train was moving, and all that scenery would be just about as interesting as it would be if you were actually in a moving train, psasing by scenery that was made only partially of cardboard, with those bits being so small that you probably wouldn't notice them. But the point I'm trying to make here is that in all the places that you pass by when riding an MRT, how many places have we actually gone down to look at? I mean, it's one thing to say that you pass by a certain building or tree or environmentalist headquarters everytime you go to work on the train, but how many times have you actually gone down to the environmentalist headquarters while carrying a newly cut down tree?
Not very often. After all, there's simply no way you would pass the technology quota with the cell phone you were carrying, but it doesn't even need to be a environmentalist headquarters building. All I'm saying is this:

Why not get a bunch of people, or maybe even just alone (which is likely to be so in my case), and walk from one MRT station to another? Maybe in between two MRT stations that you pass by every single day while travelling to work, school, maritial obligations etc. Instead of passing by and watching the cardboard trees roll just like everyday, why not actually go down and watch the trees get rolled into cardboard? Why not follow an MRT track and take your time to look around you, inciting Disney musical numbers as you go?

The exams are going to be completely history by next wednesday, and they will be reincarnated into the very uncreative form of more exams, but for now we can sleep knowing that those exams will only come next year. There's going to be quite some time avaliable for this sort of thing (the walking, not the exams), so why not do exactly that. I'm inviting anyone who has the time or inclination (or both), to poke the tagboard or poke me on msn so we can settle a day for this. The walk will probably be from Boon Lay to Chinese Garden, but then I'm not really the leading authority on completely existentialist walks from MRT station to MRT station, so why not suggest your own?

A+rts and Literature


Well, it's been a good two months or so since I've put a post, and I feel obligated by the very existence of my blog to do so again, and then subsequently ignore it for the following two months. In other words, this isn't going to be a habit.

It's been after the never ending wave of literature homework slowly descending upon you like the final row of Space Invaders that you just can't seem to hit no matter what, or the final bit of the Centipede that constantly evades your slow, blundering shots, that I've started to notice that my personal interest in the study of Literature is now a de facto Lemming.

Never before have I experienced such an utter repulsion for anything that has the label of "Literature" on it. And since the text in this blog is highly dependant on my personal whims, today we are going to talk about Dadaism.

But since my personal whims have changed drastically since the last paragraph, I choose instead to start this paragraph on a complete tangent. Does the repeated study of something lessen your appreciation for it? I'm certainly not going to try and combat the likes of Stephen Fry, but it's very hard to deny something like this after you've been studying Literature for four years now, and at about the fourth year, it simply doesn't feel like the fourth anymore.

Maybe it's not because of the repeated study of it. Maybe it's just because I don't like the subjects being taught this semester, and I'm starting to be convinced that that's really the case.

Maybe it really isn't the length of which you study something, but what you're studying that determines how much enthusiasm you have for something, but in the case of literature, I'm not really sure it should be something that should be taught in a class like the Sciences or Mathematics.

A very good example is Wordsworth. During Romanticism class we studied one of his poems titled "Expostulation and Reply", which was basically Wordsworth's justification for not spending more time in the study and slacking off in the deeper recesses of a forest on a rock. In the poem, one of Wordsworth's unnamed friends (whose existence is debatable) questions him on why he wastes his time sitting on a rock and enjoying the fresh forest air and the beautiful chirping melodies of Nature when he could be in a dusty study room reading the Classics under a dim candlelight. Wordsworth then proceeds to answer, "Well, duh."

It was in a overly air conditioned, depressingly light classroom that I received this enlightenment.

We've taken Wordsworth's philosophy and printed it in books, but what we don't realize is that the book has in fact been printed upside down. Sitting in rooms studying is precisely what Wordsworth was against. He wanted people to go out into the woods (or the AYE, in our case) and sit alone and think. So thus we take his advice and study it.

Maybe some things can't be stuffed into a graded cirriculum, simply because it goes against their very Nature (anyone who got that, my sincerest condolences). Some things simply need to be taught for the sake of it, for the enjoyment of the student, not for their potential use in the future.

But I suppose that's not going to happen any time soon. Literature and the Arts are always going to be accessed and graded like just about any other subject. And it's after writing this blog entry that I'm going to have to finish up that analysis of Percy Shelley's poems that I'll get a one grade penalty for if I'm so much as one day late.