Bookshop

Today I saw:

-Twilight in the classics section.

-Volumes on psychology, depression and how-to-make-the-person-you-like-fall-for-you in the philosophy section.

-An entire section dedicated to vampires.

-That the most popular section of a BOOKshop is the stationery/games/et cetera department.

-A book on Steve Jobs amongst a shelf of books labelled 'religion'.

-A Malay book in the 'Learning English' corner.

I also discovered that (based on a survey I conducted involving 4 respondents) ebooks have to cost half as much as their paper counterparts to be feasible, and that a coupon redeemable for 2 ebooks is valued less than 1 paper book as a gift.

And I shall end by saying that 1984 was a complete and utter mindfuck. In a peculiarly sadistic but satisfying way. I'm weird.

Placidity

‘Let me out...’

But I don’t want to be let out, because there is something peculiarly calming about the view from a window while the world around you speeds past. As the trees and tracks hurry by in a blur of green and brown, as buildings zip away and the horizon comes into view, you feel as if the world revolves around your little seat. Never mind that it is only one of 40 seats in a coach, or a coach amongst 6 others, or a train in a system of hundreds; that is irrelevant. It is easy to fall into a pensive state when your perspective merges with that of a reflective movie, in the archetypal scene where the protagonist contemplates life amidst the backdrop of the world zooming past, complete with serene musical accompaniment (thank you, iTouch).

I feel placid and content (more so than usual anyway). Ahh, the little things in life.

Not Heaven

People shouting at the top of their lungs. A man nonchalantly spits on the ground he stands on. Another puffs away on his cigarette, seemingly oblivious to the disparaging glares tracking him. Listless faces everywhere. A lady throwing scraps into a putrid drain; it lodges between the nooks of an impressively solid dam of aluminum, plastic and styrofoam. The sound of chairs lazily grinding against the cheap limestone floor. A waiter who doesn't say thank you.

As I sip on my iced coffee, I wondered if I'm the only person in this run-down coffee shop who finds the environment repulsive. Probably. Yet there's something about this chaos that's strangely alluring; an angry, red, boiling vibrance that I've grown fond of after 20 years of immersion in this society. Do I hate it? Of course I do. But would I trade it for the calm and controlled atmosphere of an upscale coffee house? Probably not.

An obnoxiously large lady pushes between my chair and the adjacent patron's, her butt cheeks grazing the back of my head. I waited for an apology... and received none. Not that I expected one to begin with. With a smile, I down the rest of my drink. This is home. It sure as hell ain't heaven but fuck, do I love it.

Hate/Like

I hate it when students make it a daily ritual to mourn about their weekly tests.

I hate it when people complain about the sun when it's shining while consequently bitching about the rain when it's pouring.

I hate how skinny girls complain about being too fat, or how fat girls bitch about their supposedly 'anorexic' counterparts.

I hate it when people moan about how much they miss home... when they get to sleep on the bed they grew up in at weekly intervals.

I hate how some students make a fuss about their study load... when they have a topic test.

I hate how those under scholarships say they'd rather trade their free ride for personal freedom, and how non-scholars want the opposite.

I hate how people make a big deal of not getting their choice of ice cream at lunch.

I hate how so many people complain too damn much about things that are too damn trivial.

-

I like how some people keep silent when a parent passes on.

I like how someone doesn't say a word about home... when he's been away for 4 years.

I like how he refrains from being angry, let alone resort to profanities, when his car gets totalled just days before his exam.

I like how some people don't complain at all when they've been studying for 3 months for a big test.

I like how she says a simple prayer when her favourite dog dies, instead of breaking into a hissy fit.

I like how he had to travel back and forth between continents (with his own money) thrice in two weeks for a scholarship that he eventually failed to get, and how he managed to laugh it off after everything.

I like how he tells me not to be sad, when he was the one who lost his best friend mere hours ago.

I like how perseverance shines through silence.

Why/Curiosity

Okay, I've sort of given up on my plans of uploading photos of my road trip- the photo sizes are a bit massive, Malaysia's internet keeps dying on me on the final 10 photos, and I can't be bothered to scale down the quality so yessss, change of plans. Haha.

Anyway, I recently applied for a position as a writer on a budding online youth magazine and I thought it would only be fair to share my application article here. Enjoy!

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Why/Curiosity

By Ng Chien Young

“Dad, why am I here?” The child inquired earnestly, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. Feeling slightly exasperated by his son’s billionth question of the day, the father managed a smile and curtly replied “I don’t know; why don’t you find out?” The boy sulked and walked away, his arms folded in disappointment.

It took me 15 years to comprehend the significance of my father’s answer. Reminiscing about the conversation, I realized that he could’ve just as easily brushed me off with ‘go away’ or ‘stop disturbing me’. As a child, I was inquisitive to the point of being irksome and could do well with a ‘shut up’ once in a while, but my father did none of that. Instead, ‘why don’t you find out’ changed my life without him realizing it. Despite being annoyed, my dad was sensible enough to continue encouraging my curiosity, and that made all the difference the way I viewed the world.

I truly believe that curiosity is our most prized, and at the same time our most unappreciated possession. Opposable thumbs or high brain-body ratios are useless if not complemented with our carnal desire to seek the unknown. This sentiment has been echoed countless times in the past, most notably by the prominent British author Samuel Johnson, who said ‘curiosity is one of the permanent and certain characteristics of a vigorous mind.' In spite of all that has been said, curiosity is being suppressed on all fronts and we risk losing an integral component that makes us distinctly human.

Our intelligence is self-evident; we are born with the ability to absorb, process and remember obscene volumes of information, with some sources placing the frontier of our memory banks at 10 terabytes. This is all fine and dandy but one fundamental problem exists; it is limited. Our curiosity however, is not. We are voraciously and insatiably inquisitive by nature, with the philosopher Thomas Hobbes once likening curiosity to being ‘the lust of the mind.’ As such, it is impossible for a person to adequately satisfy the curiosity of another; we simply do not know enough. Unfortunately, society treats the unfamiliar with a degree of contempt; we are rarely prepared to say ‘I don’t know.’ Instead, we sidestep the unknown and discourage further discourse with phrases like ‘this is off topic’, ‘it doesn’t matter why’ or the oh-so-notorious ‘stop asking stupid questions.’ It is indeed paradoxical for humans, with our level of social sophistication and time-accumulated norms, to be culturally incapable of handling something as primitive as our unbounded curiosity.

Curiosity is also being suppressed by the very same education system that is supposed to nourish the next generation of leaders. This trend is especially evident in Malaysia, where rote memory and repetition is all that is required to excel in academics. In a system dominated by exams, rigid curriculums and stringent marking schemes, the human mind is essentially chained by pragmatism. I find nothing more resentful than taking the effort to construct and ask a probing ‘why’ question in class only to be told ‘don’t bother, it’s not in the syllabus’ by my teachers, or to be surrounded by apathetic peers who expect nothing more than zombie-like indifference from everyone else. We have been falsely led to believe that there are things that we do not need to know when in fact the opposite is true; there is no such thing as having too much knowledge.

The last point I would like to make on the suppression of curiosity may strike a raw nerve, but it is a necessary discourse. The issue at hand is none other than religion. In my 20 years of life, I have debated with countless theists who, when presented with an unknown, invoke the God of the Gaps to patch their holes in understanding. In other words; if we do not know, therefore God did it. Taken at face value, such arguments do make sense. In fact, some may even say it’s the most logical answer. However, the God of the Gaps is a superficial argument, providing an answer that is hardly satisfactory for anyone above the age of 5. It is only made acceptable by centuries of religious inoculation and it teaches us to be content with what limited knowledge we have by pacifying our instinctual desire to discover. There is a common reason as to why only 10% of all members in the National Academy of Science are people of faith; or why Isaac Newton struggled to achieve further greatness despite having the ability to do so; or why the Middle East stopped being the premier seat of scientific understanding by 1100, and that reason is religious indoctrination. Thomas Jefferson once said ‘question with boldness even the existence of a God, for if there is one, He must approve of the homage of reason.’ A worthy axiom to live by, if there ever was one.

To sum up this tirade on curiosity, I implore you to embrace your inquisitive self, for there is no question too stupid or answer too menial to be unworthy of your understanding.

‘A man should live if only to satisfy his curiosity’- Yiddish proverb.

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If you've read this far, congratulations! :) Here's a cyber cookie.

As you can probably tell I'm pretty big this issue.... although hypocrisy is a very human attribute, and I sometimes find myself dissing coursemates who ask too many irrelevant medical intricacies in the midst of stressful exam preparations. Oops.

36 Hours

... is all it takes to return from a road trip, catch a flight home and spend the rest of the holidays with my beloved family.

The past week went by with flurry of emotions; from the sombreness of mega exams, to post-paper euphoria, to the infectious excitement of a journey with good company and finally, to the mellowed anticipation of returning home. Albany/Porongurup was amazing and I have much to share, but I lack the time and attention to construct a full-fledged post. Until then, here's a shot from the coast off Albany's picturesque wind farm.



More will come in a few days time when I'm back in Malaysia.

:)

Heavy

2 years worth of material.
250+ lectures.
100+ hours labs.
Everything about the human body.
2 months of intense preparation.
Unquantifiable levels of stress.
Unhealthy doses of caffeine.
3 hours- 1 paper.
100%.

Done.
I won't say it went well but at least it's over. Passable.

I feel the weight of the world fall off my shoulders... Only for them to return within hours as I frantically attempt to prepare for the next paper. I dug deep, hoping to find some remnants of my motivational reserves... Only to find there was none left.

I need a break. I need rest.

I need to go home.

Times Like These

SY: It's times like these that I wonder why I chose medicine in the first place.
Me: I know right? F*ck this sh*t!

So much to know, so little time.

Continuum

I’ve always been a firm believer in the concept of musical soulmates; the interpersonal compatibility of people with intrinsically-similar musical tastes. In an my ideal world where everyone gives two shits about music, I can’t see why this won’t work; I consider my iTunes playlist to be a projection of my personality, as do many people I know. Sadly, this is not entirely applicable in reality, mainly due to the following classes of people:

1. Those who blindly follow trends; ie, those who think 'new, ergo good' and faithfully buys every song on the Billboard Top 100, only to never hear of those tracks after 2 weeks.

2. Those who literally listen to every damn genre, from deathcore to bluegrass to punkrock to contemporary jazz to yomama'sfatarse and (if we're talking about dudes) have bigger music libraries than they have porn. No really.

3. Those who religiously support their idols, thinking that they should be awarded best songwriter award for singing the phone book.

4. Those who like Justin Bieber. Really, this is the closest you can humanly get to being soulless. Shame on you.

But for the sake of discussion, let's put these hiccups aside and assume for a moment that people do care about their music. I can already vividly picture musical personalities falling into a continuum of sounds, much like the color spectrum:

Warning: Unpleasant Stereotypes Ahead!

On the violet end of the spectrum, we have the pensive and the nostalgic with all their profound and introverted glory, basking in a sea of classical music, instrumentals, waltzing oldies and incomprehensible jazz. Other propensities in this group include nerdiness, social exclusion and some degree of musical elitism, where other subgenres are considered to be excessively distasteful for their liking. On the other hand, the group in scarlet should be metal junkies and hard rock enthusiasts. Expect some antichrist activity along with in-your-face attitudes, topped off with generous helpings of rebel sauce. Personally, I would consider myself a cyan type of person. Any takers? :D

Stereotype Warning Ends Here.

Anyhow, a post about music isn't really complete without a song recommendation, so here's a nice tune that has been racking up play counts on my iTunes. In My Arms has a catchy, country-ish vibe going on with wonderful retro overtones; I felt like I was taken back to the 60s.

And in case you haven't noticed from the live performance, Teddy Thompson's voice is
pure.
unadulterated.
LEGEND.

Tragic Association.

Knowledge is a terrifying thing, as I have come to discover after just 2 years of medicine. Physiology and anatomy have irreversibly warped my perception of the world; I simply cannot untie medicine from simple, everyday observations. It began with subconscious rumblings along the lines of “Oh, that reminds me of (insert anatomy/physiology here).” No biggie, I thought. Fairly normal and inconspicuous.

But I was wrong… This habit quickly metastasized into some twisted, chronic association complex:

-I have a tendency to cautiously dissect the skin and flesh of my fried chicken drumstick so as to identify the muscle groups, nerves and vessels.

-Crackling of knuckles = Zomg crepitus; osteoarthritis alert.

-A vaguely, M-shaped twig on the pavement will draw my mind to the brachial plexus.

-Tripping carelessly over uneven ground = Shit, cerebellar lesion.

- As my tummy rumbles, I wonder if starvation-induced gluconeogenesis from amino acids has begun. (Maybe that’s why I’m skinny.)

- Thinking about the micturition and defecation reflexes when I… you get the drift.

The point is, I think my brain has been rewired to live and breathe medicine. Then again, who can blame us? The study load is dishevelling and a large bulk of the material is directly applicable to everyday bodily functions. If anything, I believe a medical student (or as a matter of fact, any student) who does not go through this phase at least once in their academic journey should be viewed with unrelenting scepticism and incredulity. Or I might just be the only one who's going crazy. Yea, probably the latter.

This morbid obsession with medicine is not without its perks though; this continual (albeit unwelcomed) reinforcement of concepts does help to drill them snugly in my memory, and with over 4 years of undergraduate learning (and goodness knows how many years of postgraduate training) to go, I’ll need all the help I can get.

One thing bothers me though; my worldview has been markedly de-romanticized by anatomy... because if a hot girl exclaims “I love you with all my heart” right to my face, I can’t help but to hold some reservations about her honesty. Afterall, how can a 4-chambered sac of muscle ‘love’?

…..Nevermind you mind.

Prologue

Ah, the customary prologue to every fresh blog... The changing of something as personal as a blog tends to be a highly symbolic affair; a milestone, much like the shedding of a cocoon. It wasn't easy to conjure the frame of mind required to formally abandon my already dead old blog but nonetheless, it had to be done. I thoroughly enjoy writing (although I profess to be mediocre at it) and silently willed myself to revive 'A Dose of Madness' (ADoM) but an intangible hindrance stopped be from doing so.

ADoM was a pet project conjured with little thought and planning beyond simple peer pressure and the resulting outcome was equally lacklustre. Throughout its 2 years of sporadic activity, there were posts that I was wholly proud of, posts that I reminisce with indifference and posts that I feel ashamed to call my own. That being said, I feel that I cannot continue writing spiritedly with so much old baggage weighing me down and from this train of thought came the unsurprising proposal of starting anew. However, ADoM shall remain in its unadulterated form as a constant reminder of my maturing persona (I would like to think I'm not degenerating into a childish twat) and for the occasional nostalgic reading when I feel up for it.

With that, I shall draw my formalities closer to an end. 'Fabric' will hopefully turn out to be a mellowed reincarnation of my initial foray into the blogosphere, with a little less childish ranting and a little more longevity (Nominal lifespan: 5 years. Projected lifespan: 5 weeks). The blog material will probably be the usual musings, rants, reflections and updates, with a zesty twist of the madness I pride myself with. That being said, I thank thee my non-existent readers, and I shall spring an update soon enough.