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Yesterday was a fruitful day for me. It was a time of reflection (so reflective, I was soaked in my own thought and forgot to bring my tripod... to a night photography session). Everyone has heard of the saying "pen is mightier than sword." And throughout the history we have witness that effect: how Jane Austen redefined marriage as a function of love (rather than a function of family duty), Charles Dickens showed the uglier side of Industrial Revolution (and none of the revolution fought with weapons redefined humanity more than IR), John Locke's words take the world into the Age of Revolution, and Karl Marx advised government to take active role in welfare for its own people. (I was going to add Adam Smith and his Wealth of the Nations, but ironically, we live in a capitalistic society but not many realized Smith also talked about government's role and it's very different from what people think of capitalism today, so I leave it out.... Maybe Smith's pen is less powerful...) But moral has always been a tricky issue in contemporary literature. Ever since circa 1950's and 1960's, the literary movement derailed from the moralistic model and to the one that's more amoral and more experimental in structure. Whether that's an effect of WWII, Rock 'n Roll, or Beat Generation, or a combination of those, I don't know. All I could observe is, the society has already crossed the border from that of an amoral society to the one that's immoral. If I have the endeavor to become an intellectual (which I do, to honor a legacy of an online friend), I have to exhibit not only knowledge, but also be a role model of the society, which includes, but not exclusive to, being a moral compass (and I am doing it with the secular/non-religious/intellectual method). How do I do that in a society which morality is an unpopular subject? (certainly less popular than money *tongue in cheek*) To me..., back in the days, the consciousness of using fiction as the medium of delivering moral started when I was reflecting on my own reading of Albert Camus's The Plague. We live in a society where it is extremely unpopular to tell people what to think, because here in Western society we value freedom above everything else (i.e., give me freedom or give me death). Nobody likes preachers. In fact, as part of modern literary movement, we go as far as refrain using italicized text or any emphasis method which is offensive to reader's intelligence (though use it judiciously can be effective, though more often used in exposition/editorial rather than fiction). And using allegory/allusion/humor/satire as a way of delivery the pesky topic of moral (I refrain from doing it, but sometimes it is necessary) has been my choice since. (btw, if you have a better way that's more diplomatic, please let me know, because so far I have been failed miserably as an intellectual) Camus also wrote many essays on top of his fiction career. Though this blog is also one of such that try to advocate certain view point; however, this form of advocacy is somewhat archaic and proven to be less effective in today's highly educated society. The essay form of advocacy has the pro of being direct, but also the con of backlash from opponents, and can easily be dismissed as being subjective (because it is subjective..., given its editorial nature). I, personally, advise against using essay form of advocacy except for political campaign, but that's just my opinion. I am risking myself sounding like a preacher for the sake of efficacy, and I have very little time to embed all these ideas gracefully into a story, so here they are..., very directly argued rather than being literary and diplomatically delivered. Though I am not religious, but think about it, many founders of religions used allegories as way of delivering teaching of the way, rather than pedagogy. Native Americans also taught people the way through storytelling oral tradition. And I encourage everyone to consider that, as writers, we have duty to our society, because we are given a weapon much more powerful than a sword. Remember it wasn't the existence of WMD that started the last Iraqi war.... It's a speculation of the existence of WMD that started it. Hitler waged a war against the world by manipulating patriotism of his own people. A sword only kills one at a time, but words can kill much more, effect much more enduring and detrimental. But words can also create positive effect and enlighten people. Choose words wisely. And think about how popular media shape the society today.... I had a debate with the late online friend aforementioned, whether sit-com is based on real American way of life or not. His rebuttal was the sit-com was just BS (he was very American). But being a younger generation than he was, I saw the transformation of this society that mimics the sit-com way of life with my own eyes. And since many sit-coms are set in New York, written by mostly contemporary Jewish Americans (as oppose to traditional Jewish, as they have very different modes of life), how many of us non-New Yorkers are already assimilated with New Yorker's way through the work of invisible hands? Does life mimic fiction or does fiction mimic life? Don't you guys think media is greatly responsible for the acceptance of homosexuality through popular media? Given I already talked about the power, it's only right that I also talk about the responsibility of the writer. The effect of second coming of yellow journalism is just as detrimental as the first time around, except this time we have the Internet.... I should also forewarn the the potential danger of cultural imperialism, which is a related to ethnocentrism, which is responsible for many wars throughout history. With the advocacy of anthropologists of its destructive nature to other cultures around the world, it is usually part of the American college curriculum to include cultural awareness. I was taught to consider point of views that encourage pluralistic way of thinking (as oppose to ethnocentric way). Given our society values freedom above all else (though at times I want to say money...), it is only democratic every culture can have its voice. One would expect cultural imperialism really should be bygone history with the formation of the Common Wealth... (though the Common Wealth was formed through practicality, but one should at least thank the Queen for at least considering from the humanistic point of view) I do not expect a moral renaissance with this essay, but I'll end this tirade with a quote: "The world will not be destroyed by those who do evil, but by those who watch them without doing anything."

It is often very difficult to put into words what you feel. I am better at this with poetry. But, simple hard truths are never really my style. I like them the way I like hungry lions, caged and at a distance, preferably with a loaded gun in my hand. Yet, sometimes it becomes emphatic to tell the truth. And then it becomes hard. For years I have worn many masks; Masks of happiness, of humour, of grandiosity, of known lies and unknown truths. But, beneath all that garbage, lies a scared boy and a vain man and a chimera of sorts, made of all the failures and loses that life puts you through. I hide my true self beneath the said masks because, I fear the naked skin underneath that is vulnerable and raw. Right at this moment, as I am writing this, my self preservation systems are shutting down my brain and my hands are not following my command. My mind is going blank. I thought, I am capable of putting this out, putting my bleeding heart on a plate. But, clearly as always I misjudged myself. May be some other day. Just a little info, I think I am in love with a certain someone, I am not telling whom, so don't ask. And I am afraid, terrified, petrified that if he knows, he will or will not return my feelings. But, if he does, it will end up as a failure sooner than later. And I will be alone once more and the darkness will eat me up whole. That is the subject of my recurrent nightmares, that have pushed me to the end of my sanity. I'm tired of going through the same dream of acceptance and then eventual harsh rejection or worse. It is curious to note that, my mother, who is a lovely lady and the queen of my heart, figures prominently in these dreams, and more often than not, is the source of the discordance, direct or indirectly. Even funnier still, is the fact that she always leaves me at the end of the nightmare. Abandoned by my mother and my lover, I finally drown in heretofore unknown depths of despair and languishment. It is very unlike me to remove my masks and let my rotten carcass breath the air. But, the nightmares have become unbearable, and I want the routine to end. So, I have chosen to make this public (which is also a part of the inner fear). Hopefully, it will end here... or not.

Just out of curiosity. The other day I was at a supermarket, I think I immediately spotted one girl who was probably a lesbian (though my gaydar is very broken). I think the girl spotted me also, though I don't think it was that difficult. I was like wearing a lemony yellow T-shirt with "Viva Tequila" written on it, and a pair of Nantucket red cargo shorts. Basically I was just this short from flaming.... Don't know why I dressed up that way, but I guess I just felt like it. Anyways, she was doing stocking, then she dropped whatever she was working on to ask me if I needed help with anything, and then she followed up on me. Very personal service, which I don't think I'd get if I were just any guy in the supermarket. Then some time ago I was somewhat depressed and decided to treat myself with an expensive dinner (by myself, of course...). I couldn't help but thought the waitress who waited on me was a working as a drag queen at her other work place.... But anyways, I left her more tips than I usually give, especially she was so nice to me. Anyone got any similar experience? Do you like giving or receiving preferential treatment from LGBT community?