something i found from one of my readings...more than food for thought. my lecturers in nie (there was only one who seriously taught and shared herself as a teacher. i still remember her name...) were too busy covering the syllabus to help us critique this. ahem...
responsibilities of adults in a democratic society and to exercise the greatest possible degree of control over their own fate. To educate is to look for truth, to stir discomfort in placid minds of the unthinking, to shake ideologies, disturb complacency, undermine the tyranny of anti-intellectual commercialism which reins in the marketplace and in some of our legislatures, to the disadvantage of all of us. To educate is to reject the false analogies of the marketplace, to see justice and equality as noble aims rather than as obstacles to a takeover bid, to insist that human progress has no bottom line. 
group of carthusian monks in
france. 3 hours of coarse & barren fidelity and one hears the purity of silence and the still small voice of the Lord. 2 faces of the same church. broken and whole, the body of Christ. faith lost, torn and challenged but some are healed and regained. what it means to be christian in today's world.... My Best Friend was done in the tradition of The 8th Day. the french piece dealt with friendship between 2 men, one who was divorced and betrayed, the other simply did not know how to be a friend. a humorous mix of masculine dialogue, materialism and desensitisation which finally ended in the most human discourse between 2 protangonists at the end of the film. all through a gameshow. thoughtful. and ever so subtle. definitely a far-cry from those jack neo's 'THIS IS THE INTENDED MEANING OF THIS FILM AND I WILL PASTE THEM TO YOUR FLAT FACE' kind of film-making. artless. 
sneaked into high-tech law library to blog. some students are smoking outside. winter blues. exam hues. more than thankful that postgrads are spared from all that old nonsense. i remember very quickly those pangs and crammings during my nus days. all over. well-deserved. country-road sale tomorrow. got myself a membership. advanced notice. up to 75% off. opens 8am tmr. some nice clothes to support my transition back to work. for now, the open space...breathe.
my best memories of the many trips we took: sis, children and me playing & scattering autumn leaves on a wide expanse of grass...dad , sis , ig & myself boarding a chopper overseeing the ocean, veron feeding wild parakeets in the rain and mom finally, learning to see. another picture of autumn- blessing the days that went by so swiftly. and yet, are there to stay.
some portions of our lives will require us walk a road we would rather not go. but there is only one way, and no other. there is little else to do except to stretch out your hands and be willing to be led. i'm glad i did, and was given a grace to follow through.
banished and feared. you walked untouched among people. the villagers ready to greet you with clubs, spikes and spears. your grey fur catching the remnant-cold of country rain as you hide among cliffs. bruised by hunger, you wonder why created order became so cruel when you merely hunted what you sought and ate what you could. the fire people threatened the forest with greater rage. the growl hides your helplessness. your cornered curl of lips and sharp jawed inner pain.
one day, a brown man came. browned by the sun and earth, his garments a torn reflection of God-given joyful poverty. francis his name. francis, a name bearing the scent of pine and humble humid soil, in letters so near to Christ's. he bent low, those eyes you can't forget. utter trust. a freeing vulnerability before Creator-Lord who brought us into being. a simple heart that reaches out to your own. unafraid. he stayed the night with me. metres away. humble lowly francis couched among the trees, praying. smiling from a distance as he looked into me. renaming my savagery.
the villagers departed that day, content to let me be. i was only a fractured reflection of their own absence, abusive cruelty. francis came back and touched me. and i licked his warm calloused hand. the morning light bearing grace. presence of life made whole. i ran back to the far forests of my food and dream. and looked back one final time and saw one villager with francis. the browned friar always knew. he turned and blessed my name.
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----from the life of st francis of assisi (1182-1226)
www.conservation.catholic.org/st_francis_of_assisi.html
water-colour paintings by kieran choy, singapore. first icon from website.
dr octavius and magneto confront the alien object that had just landed on earth's tabletops. octavius's near adamantium claws pince and nudge the foreign substance for any sign of ultimate threat while magneto discovers that he cannot lift the organic lifeform because it possesses no metallic properties at all.
