I went home this weekend. I really like it at home but I hate feeling like time is just slipping by. I was supposed to spend this time at home finishing up my physics homework and study for math and chem but instead I sat around to write folktales and look up old video games I used to play.
I really hate it that I'm not ten anymore. I can't just sit around and waste my life playing video games. I never have enough time for anything. I see a game I want to play and think, where will I pull out the 50 hours to play that?
It isn't like I am ahead in anything. Life was much easier as a Liberal Arts student. I constantly have to worry about exams and homework. Spring break won't be enough because I'll just keep thinking about the exams I have to take when I come back. Summer can't come soon enough.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
"Wisdom" or "How the Tiger Got His Stripes"
A common folktale in the Vietnamese community, this story was told to me by my mother a long time ago. I insisted on listening to bedtime stories every night when I was young. Since this was the shortest story my mother knew, it was told every night. At some point in my life, I realized that I knew this story much better than my mother had. It is probably about time I retold it. This tale is often referred to as "How the Tiger Got His Stripes," but my mother called it "Trí Khôn" or "Wisdom."
The tiger did not have its stripes since the beginning of time. In fact, its beautiful stripes are, to the tiger, merely a sign of imperfection. Every time it dips its face into the river to get its water, it sees its reflection and is reminded of the mistake of its kind.
A long time ago, God lived much closer to humans and the animals were still granted with the power of language. Animals could speak freely to one another as to humans. During that period lived a young farmer who would plow his rice paddy daily with the help of his water buffalo. Only with the assistance of the large and powerful buffalo could the small farmer ever hope of finishing his work. Every noon when the sun was at its worst, the young farmer would retreat under a tree to eat his lunch. One noon as the buffalo grazed, a ferocious tiger jumped before its path. The buffalo readied itself for attack.
The tiger stopped the water buffalo and spoke, "Listen, I do not come to make enemies. I have eaten for the day. I have a question I have never been able to figure out and I come to ask you that one question." The water buffalo relaxed and listened as the tiger continued. "Water buffalo, you are strong and massive. You easily outweigh the frail human tenfold. Your senses are sharper than his. You work harder and have twice the legs. Why are you his slave? Why do you do his work and obey his commands? Tell me water buffalo. I must know."
No one has ever asked the water buffalo this question before. He took a minute to ponder. He soon replied, "The human feeds me and takes care of me."
"This is true, but you can feed and fend for yourself if you were not so worn out by the labor."
"Even if I want to escape, tiger, I cannot. The human possesses something I do not. With it, he controls me entirely."
"What is it? Tell me, water buffalo," the tiger commanded.
"I do not know. It is called 'wisdom,' but I do not know what it is."
"Where can I get this wisdom? Tell me now, water buffalo," roared the tiger.
"I know nothing of it except that it can make the strong obey the weak. It can make the mighty succumb to the less powerful. If you would like to know, you must ask the human."
"I am already fast and strong. If I were to have this human's wisdom, I would be unbeatable," thought the tiger.
The young farmer soon came back to the field from his lunch. Quickly, the tiger ran to the human and asked, "Human, where is your wisdom? I have heard about the wisdom you possess. Show it to me for I would like some wisdom."
The farmer, alarmed and afraid, quickly replied, "I would like to share my wisdom with you but I do not have it with me. Wait here and I will go home to fetch it." The farmer takes a few steps and turns back. "But wait, I cannot leave you here in case you get hungry and eat my buffalo."
"I will not eat him. I have already eaten, human. Go quickly and bring me your wisdom."
"I cannot trust you, tiger. You are powerful and vicious. If I will share you my wisdom, you must not eat my buffalo."
"I will not eat him. I have already eaten, human. Go quickly and bring me your wisdom."
"I will bring you my wisdom, but you cannot eat my buffalo. You must allow me to tie you to a tree. Then I can trust you and go home to get the wisdom."
Impatient, the tiger quickly agreed. "Tie me up and quickly bring the wisdom to me."
The farmer bounded the tiger tightly with the rope. When the tiger was completely tied to the tree, the farmer went to get some straws and wood and placed them around the tiger.
"What are you doing, human? Quickly, bring me your wisdom."
"But I am showing you my wisdom," replied the farmer as he set fire to the tiger.
The fire burned as the beautiful and haughty tiger roared in pain. The powerful tiger could not break loose the rope tied by the human. He threatened and begged, but the human finished his work and left. Eventually the fire burned through the rope and the tiger broke free and ran into the woods. The marks of the rope had burned into his flesh.
The tiger had seen wisdom and from that wisdom the tiger gained his stripes.
Friday, February 6, 2009
Live Your Art
Part I: Confession of Klotho
I was known as the stubborn, irritable child. I genuinely did not like the others; I never saw them in a flattering light. People, I knew, were endlessly selfish and acted only to fulfill their own needs. Acts of kindness were entirely insincere. And why should they not be so? The best of liars fool themselves into thinking that they are selfless and caring.
I rebelled against what seemed to be the world. I misbehaved, resisting the gentle uniformity. They called me disobedient among other things. I accepted their stupidity, but could not come to terms with the unfairness. I was honest and righteous in my judgment of mankind, yet no one willed to understand.
I now feign signs of selflessness and goodness to obtain my momentary happiness. In order to be accepted, I must conform to conventions. Though it is difficult to contently live a lie, I must adapt to happiness. I will think that people are good. I will sometimes think that I am good. I know that my life is but an act; a constant acknowledgment of such a fact is not required. My ultimate goal should be to lose myself in my act or to remove myself completely.
Part II: Judgment of Klotho
It is her assumption that momentary happiness is more satisfying than anything she will learn of or come across in the long run. She assumes that in order to achieve such "happiness," she must conform to conventions. It is not in her best interest to allow art to control her life, however, for art does not breathe as humans do. To give one's life to an artificial form such as art is to take one's life ruthlessly and incompletely.
I was known as the stubborn, irritable child. I genuinely did not like the others; I never saw them in a flattering light. People, I knew, were endlessly selfish and acted only to fulfill their own needs. Acts of kindness were entirely insincere. And why should they not be so? The best of liars fool themselves into thinking that they are selfless and caring.
I rebelled against what seemed to be the world. I misbehaved, resisting the gentle uniformity. They called me disobedient among other things. I accepted their stupidity, but could not come to terms with the unfairness. I was honest and righteous in my judgment of mankind, yet no one willed to understand.
I now feign signs of selflessness and goodness to obtain my momentary happiness. In order to be accepted, I must conform to conventions. Though it is difficult to contently live a lie, I must adapt to happiness. I will think that people are good. I will sometimes think that I am good. I know that my life is but an act; a constant acknowledgment of such a fact is not required. My ultimate goal should be to lose myself in my act or to remove myself completely.
Part II: Judgment of Klotho
It is her assumption that momentary happiness is more satisfying than anything she will learn of or come across in the long run. She assumes that in order to achieve such "happiness," she must conform to conventions. It is not in her best interest to allow art to control her life, however, for art does not breathe as humans do. To give one's life to an artificial form such as art is to take one's life ruthlessly and incompletely.