Confessions of the Literary Selves

Greetings From 2009

2009-01-04T23:02:00.001+08:00

Happy New Year, and Goodbye 2008. Finally......

My New Favourite Quote

2008-11-20T11:40:00.002+08:00

Hello everyone!! (:

This blog is like sooo dead after some time, I think it's time for a revival from yours truly (: Right, so anyways, as a good lit student I've started reading Othello and I think it's awesome stuff! This is my new favourite uh.. stanza (?):

"Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty,
But seeming so for my peculiar end.
For when my outward action doth demonstrate
The native act and figure of my heart
In complement extern, 'tis not long after
But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve
For daws to peck at. I am not what I am."

I.I.60-66

Thought it was a wonderful line by Iago, who is the baddie in the play but so far, I seem to like him best (: Ok, shall end off here!

Nicole K.

Accept (Move On)

2008-10-16T20:50:00.007+08:00

When eyes look,

could never continue but move on

But when such occurrences are inevitable, do you say you won't stir?

I know (wish) you did.

Well, This Isn't Really Related to Lit, BUT..

2008-10-09T17:44:00.005+08:00

1. Men who kiss their wives in the morning live five years longer than those who don't.

Perhaps deprivation of domestic needs from women cuts a man's life shorter. After all, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

2. People are more likely to tilt their heads to the right when kissing instead of the left (65 percent of people go to the right!)

Maybe it's 'cos they are right-handed? Hmm.. Interesting, what if everyone tilted their head to the right when they kissed?

3. When it comes to doing the deed early in the relationship, 78 percent of women would decline an intimate rendezvous if they had not shaved their legs or underarms.

Talk about physical peer pressure... BUT, women are sensitive to these sort of things.. so, oh well (:

4. Feminist women are more likely than other females to be in a romantic relationship.

Are they serious?!

5. Two-thirds of people report that they fall in love with someone they've known for some time vs. someone that they just met.

6. There's a reason why office romances occur: The single biggest predictor of love is proximity.

7. Falling in love can induce a calming effect on the body and mind and raises levels of nerve growth factor for about a year, which helps to restore the nervous system and improves the lover's memory.

8. Love can also exert the same stress on your body as deep fear. You see the same physiological responses — pupil dilation, sweaty palms, and increased heart rate.

9. Brain scans show that people who view photos of a beloved experience an activation of the caudate — the part of the brain involving cravings.

10. The women of the Tiwi tribe in the South Pacific are married at birth.

11. The "Love Detector" service from Korean cell phone operator KTF uses technology that is supposed to analyze voice patterns to see if a lover is speaking honestly and with affection. Users later receive an analysis of the conversation delivered through text message that breaks down the amount of affection, surprise, concentration and honesty of the other speaker.

12. Eleven percent of women have gone online and done research on a person they were dating or were about to meet, versus seven percent of men.

13. Couples' personalities converge over time to make partners more and more similar.

14. The oldest known love song was written 4,000 years ago and comes from an area between the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers.

15. The tradition of the diamond engagement ring comes from Archduke Maximillian of Austria who, in the 15th century, gave a diamond ring to his fiancée, Mary of Burgundy.

16. Forty-three percent of women prefer their partners never sign "love" to a card unless they are ready for commitment.

17. People who are newly in love produce decreased levels of the hormone serotonin — as low as levels seen in people with obsessive-compulsive disorder. Perhaps that's why it's so easy to feel obsessed when you're smitten.

18. Philadelphia International Airport finished as the No. 1 best airport for making a love connection, according to an online survey.

19. According to mathematical theory, we should date a dozen people before choosing a long-term partner; that provides the best chance that you'll make a love match.

20. A man's beard grows fastest when he anticipates sex.

21. Every Valentine's Day, Verona, the Italian city where Shakespeare's play Romeo and Juliet took place, receives around 1,000 letters addressed to Juliet.

21. When we get dumped, for a period of time we love the person who rejected us even more, says Dr. Helen Fisher of Rutgers University and author of Why We Love. The brain regions that lit up when we were in a happy union continue to be active.

22. People telling the story of how they fell in love overwhelmingly believe the process is out of their control.

23. Familiarity breeds comfort and closeness … and romance.

24. One in five long-term love relationships began with one or both partners being involved with others.

25. OK, this one may not surprise you, but we had to share it: Having a romantic relationship makes both genders happier. The stronger the commitment, the greater the happiness!

I thought this was rather interesting, saw it on someone else's blog (:

God Bless (:

Nicole K.

Sickness

2008-09-17T12:42:00.003+08:00

Since everyone has been falling sick lately, I think that it is my duty as a Literature student to find a poem related to it; under the theme of Pain, Injury and Illness (for me, that is). In a way, you can see Plath's voice shimmering through the poem:

Motion Sickness

I am tired of the heave and swell,

the deep lunge in the belly, the gut's

dumb show of dance and counterdance,

sway and pause, the pure jig of nausea

in the pit of a spinning world.

Where the body moves, the mind

often lags, clutching deck, anchor,

the gray strap that hangs like the beard

of death from the train's ceiling,

the mind lost in the slow bulge

of ocean under the moon's long pull

or the endless coil of some medieval

argument for the existence of God

or the dream of the giant maze

that turns constantly in and in

on itself and there is no way out . . .

I am sick and tired of every rise and fall

of the sun, the moon's tedious cycle

that sucks blood from the thighs of women

and turns teenage boys into wolves

prowling the streets, hungry for motion.

Let me be still, let me rest

in some hollow of space and time

far from the seasons and that boring,

ponderous drama of day and night.

Let me sleep in the heart of calm

and dream placidly of birds frozen

in the unmoving air of eternity

and the earth grown immobile

in its centrifugal spin, and God

motionless as Lazarus in his tomb

before he is raised dizzily

to fall again, to rise, to fall.

B H Fairchild

If you notice the structure of the lines, it waves inwards and outward, mimicking peristaltic motions... Hoped you all like that, I rather liked it (: The allusion to religious figures and God seem rather blasphemous, but there is more to it than meets the eye. Sorry I can't meet the analyse it fully, don't really have the time now.

God Bless (:
Nicole K.

Peanut Butter... AGAIN

2008-09-17T12:37:00.002+08:00

Hihihi (: (:

Since we're on the subject of peanut butter, I have found another really cute poem on peanut butter :D It's a Children's poem, but I think it's rather sweet..

I'm Getting Sick of Peanut Butter

I look inside my lunch box,
and, oh, what do I see?
A peanut butter sandwich
staring glumly back at me.

I know I had one yesterday,
and, yes, the day before.
In fact, that's all I've eaten
for at least a month or more.

I'm sure tomorrow afternoon
the outlook's just as bleak.
I'll bet I'm having peanut butter
every day this week.

I'm getting sick of peanut butter
sandwiches for lunch.
Why can't I have baloney
or potato chips to munch?

I wish I had lasagna
or a piece of pumpkin pie.
Another day of peanut butter
might just make me cry.

But still this awful sandwich
is in every lunch I take.
You see, it is the only thing
that I know how to make.

--Kenn Nesbitt

This boy should read Zen and the Art of Peanut Butter (: Hope that cheered you all up! And yes, it's not exactly ample material to analyse, but I think it's cute.

Nicole K.

Zen and the Art of Peanut Butter

2008-09-11T20:59:00.003+08:00

Hihihi (:

Since most of us are pretty stressed out over the looming Promos, I decided that we see more humour in our current situation and just laugh off our stress :D (OK, yes, this is pretty much a rip-off from today's Compass Programme; but at least it shows that I was paying attention!)

This is probably one of my favourite poems of all times, I hope you all like it too!

Zen and the Art of Peanut Butter
First, seek the most direct path
leading to the pantry.
Focus on the jar itself.
Reveal the contents
with a reverse spiral motion.
Delicately insert the knife.
Delicately withdraw the knife.
As if applying salve
to the infinite being himself,
spread the contents
on the leavened slice.
Attentively lick the remainder
from the blade,
and throw the sandwich away.

By W.G. McDonald

Love love love love this poem, on the peripheral, it seems really simple and has nothing much to it, I mean, it appears to be a poem that talks about how we should take things slow (unlike Singaporeans), but rather, the enjoyment of doing sth that is totally mundane as an art (:

Well, gotta go back to mugging!

God Bless (:

Nicole K.

Greetings from Cambridge!!

2008-08-08T06:20:00.003+08:00

Hey all,

It has been a while. Only Gary seems to only "blogger" left. haha. I hope everyone is enjoying school as much as ever. No irony intended. It has been fun in Cambridge. There is a staging of Othello every night at Girton College, where we are staying. I attended one with Safiah yesterday night and it was impressive. I am amazed by how the actors remember all their lines without tripping on them. Would have loved to upload photos here but what a pity I left my cable behind. Will try to see if Safiah or Joan is able to do that. In the meanwhile, take care everyone and see you in 2 weeks.

Ms. Lim

Killing the schooling kids....

2008-08-03T13:48:00.006+08:00

HI,

I go to this primary school for Wushu training every Sunday and today i chanced upon this notice board which made me realised that how children are being 'killed' by several things that the school done.

Ranks... Rankings for the most avid readers...Badges that give students rankings, constructing a sense of higher identity for them. I feel that it's so harmful in the sense that kids are given different levels of rankings for the things they do to educate themselves, and who knows if the knowledge really seeps into their brains. And what about those who were not 'conferred' titles? Of course they will feel inferior when playing with kids who've been 'conferred' with badges.

While the construction of higher identities pushes one for the better, it also plants the seed of produness in one.

['Seed of Proudness'-When sprouted, will cause one to 'other' others of lower identity and be filled with pride]

Maybe all schools should review their construction of identities in their kids, but perhaps in this world of reality, identity and rank vying is vital for living a good life, a life not being othered by others.

I should learn to love the act of vying.

I feel that reading kills these kids............................LOOK AT THEIR FACES!!! >.<

Man....you kids are seriously being killed by reading.......OMG..

Gary Gan.

MJC Carnival @ Pasir Ris Park!!! 19.7.2008

2008-07-11T13:01:00.007+08:00

Hey People out there!! On the 19th July 2008 is a carnival brought to you by our own MJC, together with Siglap Secondary, and will be held at Pasir Ris Park. Please come down and have a day of fun because there will be a whole wide range of stalls selling different stuffs, and not to mention those can't be missed-out games stalls, flea market and car-boot sales!!

There will also be a concert held from the morning to the evening on that day, performed by the coolest bands on a very cool stage.

There is also a Hip-Hop dance competition which is open to everyone from the public, any interested people out there should seriously participate in this dance competition to show off your charismatic dance skills, and to vie for the top prize of $300! Application forms are available @ MJC, Siglap Secondary and Elias CC.

But most importantly, come down to show show your support for our beloved MJC. Come with a camera, take pictures and have a very great time this 19th July. Your presence helps make the carnival look majestic, and is therefore greatly valued.

'My Mother'

2008-07-04T20:40:00.004+08:00

Hello all! I found a poem written by Sylvia Plath's daughter, Frieda Hughes, which was written, I think, to express her anger towards the film.

My Mother

They are killing her again,
She said she did it
One Year in every ten,
But they do it annually, or weekly,
Some do it daily,
Carrying her death around in their heads
And practicing it. She saves them
The trouble of their own;
They can die through her
Without ever making
The decision. My buried mother
Is up-dug for repeat performances.

Now they want to make a film
For anyone lacking the ability
To imagine the body, head in oven,
Orphaning children. Then
It can be rewound
So they can watch her die
Right from the beginning again.

The peanut-eaters, entertained
At my mother's death, will go home,
Each carrying their memory of her,
Lifeless - a souvenir.
Maybe they'll buy the video.
Watching someone on TV
Means all they have to do
Is press pause
If they want to boil a kettle,
While my mother holds her breath on screen
To finish dying after tea.

The filmmakers have collected
The body parts.
They want me to see.
But they require dressings to cover the joins
And disguise the prosthetics
In their remake of my mother.
They want to use her poetry
As stitching and sutures
To give it credibility.
They think I should love it-
Having her back again, they think
I should give them my mother`s words
to fill the mouth of their monster,
Their Sylvia Suicide Doll.
Who will walk and talk
And die at will,
And die, and die
And forever be dying.

-Frieda Hughes

It alludes to a few of Plath's poems, especially Lady Lazarus, and while I admit it's not of as high a standard as her mother's, I thought it would be an interesting read. And I think it's also pretty ironic, because here, we are the "peanut-crunching crowd" reviewing her death over and over again.

There's also a short interview with Frieda Hughes by Time magazine here.

I'm actually rather intrigued by that family, haha. Yes yes, I confess to being a guilty peanut cruncher.

Ariel Links..

2008-06-28T21:14:00.002+08:00

Hi
Congrats to all cuz the MYEs are over!!!! But not A levels..:D BTW, I found this website which contains several analytical comments on Ariel by different people, but i'm not sure if this is useful, so if anyone who's interested and checked it out, how about rating the usefulness of the link??

Personally i feel that the writing style of the reviews on Ariel is really good, and it's like maybe we can follow their tone so it makes our answers in tests or exams better......

The link has got good reviews on the Bee series by Plath.....However, the bad thing is that there are only reviews for a very few poems...real few...so there isn't any for poems like "cut", "edge", "night dances" and stuff.....sigh...

Here's the link, check it out and reate it's usefulness!

http://www.english.uiuc.edu/maps/poets/m_r/plath/plath.htm

Gary :D

The Little Engine(s) that Could

2008-06-16T01:17:00.002+08:00

Dear all,

The blog has been really quiet and I am certainly pleased about it because this shows that you all have been too busy studying?! :)

Anyway, it's one more week to your Mid-Year Examinations. Sorry to remind those who are visiting the blog hoping for some respite -- please get going if you haven't started revisions! Also, for those who have been mugging most of your holidays away and are feeling the heat, here's a little story to encourage you to press on. Read it aloud to achieve maximum effect!!

The Little Engine that Could
A little railroad engine was employed about a station yard for such work as it was built for, pulling a few cars on and off the switches. One morning it was waiting for the next call when a long train of freight-cars asked a large engine in the roundhouse to take it over the hill "I can't; that is too much a pull for me," said the great engine built for hard work. Then the train asked another engine, and another, only to hear excuses and be refused. In desperation, the train asked the little switch engine to draw it up the grade and down on the other side. "I think I can," puffed the little locomotive, and put itself in front of the great heavy train. As it went on the little engine kept bravely puffing faster and faster, "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can."
As it neared the top of the grade, which had so discouraged the larger engines, it went more slowly. However, it still kept saying, "I--think--I--can, I--think--I--can." It reached the top by drawing out bravery and then went on down the grade, congratulating itself by saying, "I thought I could, I thought I could."

P.S. For those who have signed up for consultations with me next week (starting 17 June), please turn up punctually.

Ms. Lim

Cinderella

2008-05-24T15:14:00.004+08:00

To: All Literature Students and Ms. [Rocker] Lim

Hello, it's really awesome that a blog was opened for Literature stuff, and the best thing is, perhaps, the fact that we can read such excellent poems (:

Here is a poem I read by Sylvia Plath:

Cinderella

The prince leans to the girl in scarlet heels,
Her green eyes slant, hair firing in a fan
Of silver as the roads slows; now reels
Begin in tilted violins to span

The whole revolving tall glass palace hall
Where guests slide gliding into light like wine;
Rose candles flicker on the lilac wall

Reflecting in a million flagons' shine,

And glided couples all in a whirling trance
Follow holiday revel begun lung since,
Until near twelve the strange girl all at once
Guilt-stricken halts, pales, clings to the prince

As amid the hectic music and cocktail talk
She hears the caustic ticking of the clock

-Sylvia Plath

This poem really conveys Plath's rather sarcastic nature, re-telling a fairytale story and interweaving certain elements of magic, and for once, you can kind of understand the context of Plath's poems. As such, I'd like to dispel the fear that Literature students have of Plath's poems as not all her poems are so "suicidal"; however, this poem kind of possesses a haunting quality that's quite cool (:

Hope you guys enjoy the poem as much as I did (:

Hugs & Kisses,

Nicole K.

World Cinema Series

2008-05-20T15:05:00.001+08:00

Hey guys,

Do check out the World Cinema Series: Picnic at Hanging Rock. You may want to catch this if you have a bit of time to spare in the June Hols.

Ms. Lim

Welcoming myself to thelits (:

2008-05-19T17:42:00.002+08:00

Dear darling literature lovers,

Hi, I have finally managed to crack the code of entering Ms. Lim's blog... hahaha... wow... looks like Gary is the only major contributor of the blog so far, with a hint of v's essence.. (: Looking forward to contributing to this blog in any way (:

Nicole K.

Black and White

2008-05-18T18:40:00.005+08:00

Hey Ppl.....

After doing so much on Plath and about her black and white issues, i just realized that i've actually been watching a vid. which features this idea for so many times... and i think that it really relates to Plath's issues on male & female and Black & White....

Here's the vid. you guys might wanna appreciate and relate on to Plath's issues:

"I Don't Love You" By My Chemical Romance. Really Plathy in this case for black and white.............it also features the disintegration of the both and notice the technique they use to project the disntegrating identities...also notice how the male is Black while the female identity is White....and the girl with the big eyes scared and shocked the HELL outta me man.......!

MCR!!!!!!!.........I like....

Gary :)

Edvard Munch

2008-05-15T16:32:00.002+08:00

Dear all,

Do check out this link:

http://www.edvard-munch.com/gallery/anxiety/scream.htm

Some responses to Edvard Munch's famous painting 'The Scream'. Very plath-esque if you ask me.

Anyhow, its fine if you emote Gary! This blog really serves as a platform for all your creative and poetic endeavours and inspirations. And even if you think its a rant, that's fine.

Continue to enjoy poetry before we move on to Shakespeare next term.

Do take good care of your health everybody! And continue to enjoy the small pleasures in life.

Ms. Lim

Contemporary Poems

2008-05-13T23:54:00.006+08:00

I'm still feeling sour, not really recovered from the recent earthquake that demolishes my confidence. Funny how it seems, i somehow relate the event that made me feel pain with the China's earthquake yesterday. OMG, i'm seriously not trying to be emo here cuz this lit blog has better not be an emo one.....

ANyways....this feeling somehow enabled me to write another poem, i don't usually write poems, or should i say i never write poems. But i dunno...u guys should check it out, where whatever feeling u feel gets u started in writing a poem, to me it's like everything poured out like vomit, i don't really have to think of what to write. Maybe it's just a habit that develops from too many paper 1 and Ariel which i think will disappear when we start on King Lear or Othello...or P&P and Artist's Impression. in term 3.....
So here is my newest composition, inspiration from the lingering sour-pain in my heart and the event that caused it...Enjoy!

Baby In The Womb

A Call for Celebration!
For the Descend of a baby.
Pregnancy is good news.
To conceive is holy.

I thank you so much
for creating me,
you gave me nutrients.
The warmness of the womb.

I’ve enjoyed for two months
your love, your words, our bond.
I told myself, took a vow
to do you proud, be a good boy.

But why? For goodness sake!
Why do you abort?
You gave me life,
yet you are destroying it for me.

You gave me life, gave me hope,
then destroyed it,
like a Witch
a Bitch.

Why present me this process?
To give and take,
to create and destroy,
to bake and brake.

What is acceptance?
I’ll tell you---a thing not in me.
What is revenge?
I’ll admit---a strength from disappointment.

Your womb is my tomb,
the tomb which traps my spirit
in which I wonder why for hell sake
you don’t want to free me completely.

The dryness of the tomb.
In it I invent my own respirator.
Smiles, Grins, many pretty stickers
for me to paste and decorate, whenever needed.

These stickers
for you to see anytime.
Do you feel at ease?
Herh, Fool.

I cannot have you undeceived.

-Gary Gan

Feel free to critisize and comment! And Congrats to those who got CCA, House and CG leaders positions!....again...haha

Gary:]

Persimmons

2008-05-11T20:35:00.001+08:00

Hi guys,

Li-Young Lee is an Asian-American poet who was featured in the ST today. This is one of my favourite poems from Lee.

Persimmons
by Li-Young Lee

In sixth grade Mrs. Walker
slapped the back of my head
and made me stand in the corner
for not knowing the difference
between persimmon and precision.
How to choose

persimmons. This is precision.
Ripe ones are soft and brown-spotted.
Sniff the bottoms. The sweet one
will be fragrant. How to eat:
put the knife away, lay down newspaper.
Peel the skin tenderly, not to tear the meat.
Chew the skin, suck it,
and swallow. Now, eat
the meat of the fruit,
so sweet,
all of it, to the heart.

Donna undresses, her stomach is white.
In the yard, dewy and shivering
with crickets, we lie naked,
face-up, face-down.
I teach her Chinese.
Crickets: chiu chiu. Dew: I’ve forgotten.
Naked: I’ve forgotten.
Ni, wo: you and me.
I part her legs,
remember to tell her
she is beautiful as the moon.

Other words
that got me into trouble were
fight and fright, wren and yarn.
Fight was what I did when I was frightened,
Fright was what I felt when I was fighting.
Wrens are small, plain birds,
yarn is what one knits with.
Wrens are soft as yarn.
My mother made birds out of yarn.
I loved to watch her tie the stuff;
a bird, a rabbit, a wee man.

Mrs. Walker brought a persimmon to class
and cut it up
so everyone could taste
a Chinese apple. Knowing
it wasn’t ripe or sweet, I didn’t eat
but watched the other faces.

My mother said every persimmon has a sun
inside, something golden, glowing,
warm as my face.

Once, in the cellar, I found two wrapped in newspaper,
forgotten and not yet ripe.
I took them and set both on my bedroom windowsill,
where each morning a cardinal
sang, The sun, the sun.

Finally understanding
he was going blind,
my father sat up all one night
waiting for a song, a ghost.
I gave him the persimmons,
swelled, heavy as sadness,
and sweet as love.

This year, in the muddy lighting
of my parents’ cellar, I rummage, looking
for something I lost.
My father sits on the tired, wooden stairs,
black cane between his knees,
hand over hand, gripping the handle.
He’s so happy that I’ve come home.
I ask how his eyes are, a stupid question.
All gone, he answers.

Under some blankets, I find a box.
Inside the box I find three scrolls.
I sit beside him and untie
three paintings by my father:
Hibiscus leaf and a white flower.
Two cats preening.
Two persimmons, so full they want to drop from the cloth.

He raises both hands to touch the cloth,
asks, Which is this?

This is persimmons, Father.

Oh, the feel of the wolftail on the silk,
the strength, the tense
precision in the wrist.
I painted them hundreds of times
eyes closed. These I painted blind.
Some things never leave a person:
scent of the hair of one you love,
the texture of persimmons,
in your palm, the ripe weight.

Contemporary Poems

2008-05-09T22:13:00.003+08:00

I believe that during this period of time there are many many students feeling happy and sad. Well, you guys should roughly know why that is so..But it has not yet to end, there will still be more casualties to be inflicted on more students.

I've been affected by this thing that crushes our confidence, so to all out there who share the similar plight as i do, i dedicate my latest composition to you guys. I hope it can redress any of your grievances and also represent what you guys want to shout out loud.

My latest composition is about a fictional historic event that a person imagines. Anything written in this poem is purely fictional and for creative purposes, and the sentences are not to be interpreted literally... but metaphorically :)

Hail! Chairman Mao

In 1893, Mao was born.
1904, Deng was born.
There are two great leaders from China.

I couldn’t make it to America,
not even to Kenya.
I had to beg to enter China. To stay in China.

So I loved China, when I’m able to get in there.
I can see that it is a Sleeping Dragon.
A Dragon that will dominate all beasts.

I vowed to wake it up.
I loved it, I’m with it, my Heart’s in it.
My mind full of blueprints to build its kingly status.

Then the Chinese killed it.
Shut its eyes
When it just woke up.

There is Mao and Deng.
They chose Mao.
A pill of ignorance that causes the death of the awakening dragon.

The Chinese chose Mao,
without foresight, I’d gladly announce.
1945 arrived.

But Deng was Supreme
With the power to turn the Dragon into King of Kings.
Yet the Chinese failed to see, I’d gladly announce.

They foolishly rejected Deng.
They failed to recognize his Reform’s value
Stupid Pigs! Pure Stupidity!

Darned Chinese, Stupid Chinese.
They killed the dragon I loved so much.
Brain-juices wasted on those blueprints.

Mao’s Cultural Revolution,
a rope bound to kill the Dragon.
Squeeze it dry.

The Great Leap Forward.
Lethal poison
Going to kill it slowly. Shameful!

Enjoy the Suffering!

I’m just gonna watch and see.
Sneer at you.
Laugh at your Stupid decisions!

If I’m a child deprived of education,
I thank 1945 so much
for giving me a lesson on how stupid people can be.

I’m throwing a thanks-giving Party,
Celebrating their downfall!
Caused by their own Stupidity!

Well, I’d herby announce that
China shall never ever gain cure from the Reforms.
And the Chinese Deserved it!

1945 came,
They killed 1956.
A Shameful decision.

They’ll never get to witness 1956,
Never able to prosper.
Because of Stupidity!

Hail! Chairman Mao.
Fail! Chairman Mao.
Fail! China!

The Chinese were to be blamed.
-Gary Gan

By the way, congrats to those who've got posts as CCA, House and CG leaders!

Gary :)

The Rhodora

2008-05-07T03:18:00.000+08:00

In the happening spirit of poetry, I'll post this one! I really like it, and I hope you do too.

The Rhodora

On being asked, Whence is the flower?

In May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes,
I found the fresh Rhodora in the woods,
Spreading its leafless blooms in a damp nook,
To please the desert and the sluggish brook.
The purple petals, fallen in the pool,
Made the black water with their beauty gay;
Here might the red-bird come his plumes to cool,
And court the flower that cheapens his array.
Rhodora! if the sages ask thee why
This charm is wasted on the earth and sky,
Tell them, dear, that if eyes were made for seeing,
Then Beauty is its own excuse for being:
Why thou wert there, O rival of the rose!
I never thought to ask, I never knew:
But, in my simple ignorance, suppose
The self-same Power that brought me there brought you.

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

And just in case you're wondering what a rhodora is...

Cheers,

Vicky!

Is Heaven in the Yellow Pages

2008-05-06T21:45:00.000+08:00

While trying to avoid doing my econs essays I remembered a poem I came across sometime late last year (probably around the time I was trying to avoid studying for o'levels) that I really liked:

Is Heaven in the Yellow Pages?

Mommy went to Heaven,
but I need her here today,
My tummy hurts and I fell down,
I need her right away.
Operator can you tell me
how to find her in this book?

Is heaven in the yellow part,
I don't know where to look.
I think my daddy needs her too,
at night I hear him cry.
I hear him call her name sometimes,
but I really don't know why.

Maybe if I call her,
she will hurry home to me.
Is Heaven very far away,
is it across the sea?
She's been gone a long, long time
she needs to come home now!
I really need to reach her,
but I simply don't know how.
Help me find the number please,
is it listed under "Heaven"?
I can't read these big, big words,
I am only seven.
I'm sorry operator,
I didn't mean to make you cry,
Is your tummy hurting too or is there something
in your eye?

If I call my church maybe they will know.
Mommy said when we need help,
that's where we should go.
I found the number to my church
tacked up on the wall.
Thank you operator,
I'll give them a call.

~Donna J. Hoover

Its so sad! I like the fact that its simple and straightforward, yet still capable of making me feel really really really sad. So anyways, my computer is making funny noises, and its not supposed to do that because it has just been fixed! Sulk.

G'night!
*trudges back to econs*

Sigh.

Contemporary Poems

2008-05-02T22:47:00.000+08:00

Hi People!
Haha i was wondering that since we're doing on Self and the other in our cirriculum, I started exploring on different selves...different identities. From exploring these selves and identities, I've composed a Poem! Like yay rite i know...and even though i once asked, wondered and was pissed of at why poets write poems, i still wrote this poem out somehow. Probably influenced from all that Ariel and Plath in class...haha so my poem is titled "YOU" and here goes..

You

The First time I saw your face,
And the way you tied two yellow bands around your wrist
-Those yellow on your tanned-browned skin-
Ooo…h! How it matches together,
to make you look like cool
You look sort of handsome yet…I don’t know,
But it just is…

Then I see you more and more
occasionally,
Everytime I see your face, I wanted to see more,
take a second stare,
I need to oppress my inner desire.

I noticed you also looked back at me in the eyes.
Your eyes, the hole in the skin showing the eyeballs
are round, it ain’t supposed to be cool,
But I like it, I like the feeling,
Don’t ask me why, I just do.

I always like it when I looked at you,
You look me back into my eyes
even though my look at you
wasn’t supposed to mean a look-back at me.
And I always feel happy
when you looked back at me,
looked into my eyes. It’s Magical.
I’m not sure if I’m right.

Sometimes I caught you walking around,
that distinctive posture,
the way you tilt your head a little by the side
and walk with frequent bounces,
has become a reflex action in me,
to look back at you.

That yellow bag you carry,
That colour also a reflex action for me
to look out for you.

I dunno if you feel the same
But the fact you looked back at me
each time I looked at you, Amazingly,
gave me faith. New hope.
I wish I may be correct
I think I might be correct.

Shit I feel so sin
Sinful for wanting to stare at you,
Sinful for liking the way you look at me
Sinful for remembering your posture.
Sinful for wishing that I’m correct
Sin for you.

Don’t ask me why…
I don’t know why!
I wish I’m not like that!
I’m not supposed to be like that!
Dammed! Sinned most for writing this
with you in mind.

You made me wonder why I am like that.
I wish I’m not like that,
How unacceptable!
I can’t accept this!
Dammit! I’m really like that!

But everytime I see you with that guy,
I feel a tinge of pinch
in the heart.
I thought maybe he also feel how I feel
and is keeping you for himself.
Then I know that maybe I’m really
like that.

I can’t accept,
The fact that I’m like that.
-Gary Gan

I dunno if my poem is considered 'contemporary' cuz i ain't no critique nor learned in this area..but i feel that mayb i explore the meaning under 'contemporary' so erm...Haha u guys guess what the poem is about, and what is the characteristics of the persona in this poem....just for your entertainment. Feel free to criticise on my poem...Enjoy!
Gary.
P.S BTW how to put Pics. in my post i was thinking maybe i attach some pics. 2gether with any poems that i will bake (if i feel like to..)

Gary :)

Gary

2008-04-30T00:26:00.000+08:00

Hey All!~
Gary here! Like wow it's my first time writing a post here ...yep, and under the account of ms.(rocker) Lim. I Gotta admit that i'm like a total idiot (and i mean like totally~) in this blog thing because i don't know how to use a blog!!! Someone pls help me and dun laugh at me.....

Oh and er Vicky...u don't have to worry that you look like you're spamming the blog cuz i think that my post is more crappy than yours....weeeeeeeee!~ Haha ms. Lim hope you don't mind my kind of post here...just trying out for the first time... :D

I need to sleep now because it's past midnight already.

Gary.

PostSecret

2008-04-29T12:49:00.000+08:00

I really love postsecret!

There's something really comforting in the fact that there are people out there who share your awkward, uncomfortable or sneaky little secrets, cringe-worthy or dark dark experiences, and embarrassing or deep-seated fears.

Like Mr Wee's novel in six words, (haha paiseh cannot remember the author's name) each postcard triggers one's imagination on the context it was made in.

Makes one feel... less alone.

(Plus have you seen the Valentine video made from the postcards omgomg so sweet right?! I want that song lah pls!! Hahaha we should have a tagboard.)

Cheers,

Vicky!

P.S. You're welcome Ms. Lim! Am I allowed to post stuff like this here? I feel like I'm spamming but otherwise this blog looks so sad and sparse. Can right? *nudgenudgewinkwink* :)

The Sound of Silence (Simon and Garfunkel)

2008-04-28T21:40:00.000+08:00

As a finale to Mr. Wee's series of lectures on rhythm and sound, thought you guys might like this. Enjoy the paradox of the title and listen to the live rendition of this song (they look kinda ghastly though. I hope you are not viewing this in the dead of the night)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eZGWQauQOAQ&feature=related

Ms. Lim

The Sound of Silence

Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence

In restless dreams
I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turn my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence

And in the naked light
I saw Ten thousand people maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never shared
No one dared
Disturb the sound of silence

"Fools," said I, "you do not know
Silence like a cancer grows
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you"
But my words like silent raindrops fell
And echoed in the wells of silence

And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the sign said "The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls
And whispered in the sound of silence

More of the Bard

2008-04-27T23:56:00.000+08:00

Hi guys,

Didn't manage to catch this but we can look out for it next year I guess!

Ms. Lim

P.S. Thanks to Vicky who created my doppelganger (rocker).

April 25, 2008

Bite-size servings of The Bard in an act of charity

By Yen Feng

ALL the world's a stage for young people from 34 countries who will serve up bite-size adaptations of Shakespeare's plays to celebrate the bard's 444th birthday on Wednesday.
Three schools here - Raffles Junior College, Raffles Institution and Hwa Chong Institution - will take part in the international performance festival called Shakespeare 24.

Their plays will come with a charitable twist - all proceeds from ticket and merchandise sales will go to The Straits Times School Pocket Money Fund.

"It's a privilege to take part in this global event," said Mr Gavin Swee, 20, an RJC alumnus and manager of the Singapore leg of the event. "Plus, it's a great way to promote a culture of theatre and charity among youth here."

The curtains will rise at 7pm on Wednesday at the respective time zones of all countries involved.

Around the world, 62 plays will be staged, beginning in New Zealand and ending in Hawaii. Each play will last between 30 and 45 minutes.

Shakespeare 24 is organised by Shakespeare Schools Festival, an arts group in London.

Patrons of the group include actors Judi Dench and Kevin Spacey, and playwright Tom Stoppard. In Singapore, the three schools will perform together at RJC on Wednesday and Thursday.

Theatre-goers can expect excerpts from A Midsummer Night's Dream, Macbeth and Twelfth Night.

The 130 student-actors will also put up T-shirts, postcards and teddy bears in Elizabethan wear for sale to raise money for the School Pocket Money Fund.

RSC - Hamlet!

2008-04-26T14:28:00.001+08:00

Woo~! Lit blog!

Hey all this is Vicky!! Constructive (teacher verified) procrastination in progress.

Okay, reviews I suck at, so I'll keep this a one-liner and get to the point quickie. TNT Theatre Britain's Hamlet at Raffles Jubilee Hall was niiiiice. (Yeah yeah the word Nice should be banned as should Interesting and Non-Entity come on give the girl a break.)

ANYYYWAYS, I think that The Reduced Shakespeare Company's version on YouTube is the damn funny lah, go watch!

Ahem. I mean I do so think that the RSC did a wonderful comedy/parody on Shakespeare's Hamlet, and does so four times (yes four indeed) in such an exquisite time frame as a little more than 35 minutes.

RSC: Hamlet (1 of 4)

RSC: Hamlet (2 of 4)

RSC: Hamlet (3 of 4)

RSC: Hamlet (4 of 4)

Awesome 'innit? (Thanks to Jacq for introducing to Lizzie for showing to me! :D)

Also, they did The Othello Rap, and other abridged Shakespearean works, but I figured we'll save that for next time, like when we start on it or something.

Til' next time!

Cheers,
Vicky!

P.S. Miss Lim is this blog for J1s only or for all lit students ah?

Still I Rise

2008-04-24T13:37:00.000+08:00

Hi guys,

check out this link (Maya Angelou's Still I Rise)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ik4bnjUCTbE

Any comments? Pretty sassy poem, in the speaker's own words.

Ms. Lim

Pieces of You

2008-04-23T20:46:00.000+08:00

Some of you might know Jewel's "Pieces of You"

Check out the link below:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8pIguaB3fro&feature=related

Brings to mind our Paper 5 discussion of the idea of the Self and Other, what do you think? Feel free to give your comments!

Ms. Lim

The Seminal Post

2008-04-23T20:06:00.001+08:00

Dear all,

This is long overdue but I hope we all have the stamina to keep this going! Aptly titled the "Confessions of the Literary Selves", this blog is not merely a loose adaptation of St. Augustine's Confessions of a Sinner, but more importantly, a space where we can all share our sinful indulgence outside class time. Of course, that would mean sin within acceptable confines like reading and soaking up a good poem when you ought to be studying for a test! Or downloading renditions of poems into your iPod!

So, amidst the multitude of tests, assignments and essays, do take some time off to share good poems, youtube videos or even song lyrics. If you've watched any good film or play, do share your review with all of us:)

Signing off,
Ms Lim