Dialogue taken from King Arthur (2005)...
"My father told me great tales of you," Guinevere said, by way of making conversation.
"Really?" Arthur asked, interested in spite of himself. "And what did you hear?"
"Fairy tales," Guinevere answered. "The kind you hear about people so brave, so selfless, that they can't be real." She gave a mocking smile.
"Arthur and his knights."
________________________
She had a thing for knights. Not the modern day kind, where all you had to do was do something great for the world and Queen E would grant you a knighthood. Where you had the title "Sir" in front of your name but had no royal blood lineage in you at all. Where your occupation was not to defend the kingdom but to play music or act in films.
She loved the old knights of Arthur's time.
Her fascination with Arthur started when she watched King Arthur. It started with a disclaimer where people never knew who Arthur truly was, but that later historians found Arthur to be based on a Roman Centurion called Arthorius Castus, or Arthur.
Then Merlin came about, and it was all she could do to stop herself from jumping in excitement. The swordfights excited her, and the magical moments, Morgana's moments especially, fired her blood up. It didn't hurt that she was always fascinated by swordfighting as a kid.
There would always be one truth: She believed in knights, so much so that she wanted to be one. Everything could change, but this one thing will not. She loved the fact that knights were chivalrous (a dying practice in this modern times); she loved that they stood for all that was right (unlike the corruption taking place throughout the world); she loved the way a sword would feel in her hands, strong steel that could cut through anything - she would give a world just for a chance to touch one.
Guns were alright, she guessed; like any other hot-blooded teenager, she liked guns. They were fast, deadly, and brilliant. But sometimes a part of her bemoaned the fact that guns lacked the finesse swordfighting did. Guns detached one from the real scene; anyone could pick up a piece, pull the trigger and walk off, unaffected. But it took guts to pick up a sword, fend iff your opponent, parry him off, use your head to turn the situation against him, with a large possibility that you were going to get your hands dirty with blood. Guns ended things too quick; she wanted to feel the snag of resistance, wanted to see how people would fight for their lives. She wanted to hear the hum of the blade as it swung in the air, feel a sense of satisfaction when it hit another blade with a resounding clang.
Like most things, the art of swordfighting was lost.
But she missed the knights the most.
She liked the Ancient times. At least back then, the only way you died in battle was by a sword, knife, axe or arrow. Nowadays, as the crime preventing tech gets more effective, people are looking for more deviant ways to kill. Truth be told, she preferred it old school. If it were against any medieval weapon, you could always fight back. But how could you possibly resist sodium penthothal (truth serum) or fight back against nuclear bombs and stuff like that?
Knights were her heroes. King Arthur was her favourite fairy tale. Because while other stories like Snow White, Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty focuses on a young prince on a white horse that arrived at the end of the day to sweep the credit and the young maiden into his arms (how unrealistic that people could fall in love at first sight and marry the next day- they should make one where, after marrying the prince, Cinderella files for a divorce), Arthur and his knights had to prove themselves able to defend the kingdom. Arthur had many choices to make, difficult ones that had a specific outcome, but that made him all the more humane.
He worked hard to get where he is now: a great king of a great kingdom that forms a legend that will never be forgotten, however fictional he might be.
And instead of hoping for princes to sweep us off our feet, shouldn't we charge forth and do the right thing?
"Sometimes you've gotta do what you think is right, damn the consequences." ~ Morgana to Arthur in Merlin, episode 4 : The Poisoned Chalice.
Tuesday, 17 November 2009
Tuesday, 20 October 2009
Today I Felt Down, But Cheesecake Cheered Me Up.
Yes well, I helped Mum to make the loveliest cheesecake ever. And it was delicious. For some reason, I can't stand it when people spell delicious as delish or especially as espesh. Sounds a bit rojak, no?
Yeah so was chatting with Chiau Hui during recess. Walked to my class with her and we were chatting all the way when I saw Jo outside the class and waved him in. And so the three of us started talking and Jo suddenly mentioned he still remembered I called him an idiot (albeit unknowingly, unthinkingly--refer to previous posts) and we started laughing, so I told CH what happened.
Then Jo and I had a hilarious laughing spree where I suddenly talked about Slowpoké the Talking Snail. If you'll go to my profile and scroll down you'd be able to see it.
Anyway, gotta go.
Cheers.
Yeah so was chatting with Chiau Hui during recess. Walked to my class with her and we were chatting all the way when I saw Jo outside the class and waved him in. And so the three of us started talking and Jo suddenly mentioned he still remembered I called him an idiot (albeit unknowingly, unthinkingly--refer to previous posts) and we started laughing, so I told CH what happened.
Then Jo and I had a hilarious laughing spree where I suddenly talked about Slowpoké the Talking Snail. If you'll go to my profile and scroll down you'd be able to see it.
Anyway, gotta go.
Cheers.
Sunday, 18 October 2009
Just Because I Try To Justify Myself
I like my previous blog title: Just Because. Two simple words that mean a lot of things. Mostly used by the misunderstood to justify their actions.
Just because I lie..
Just because I hate him..
Just because this, just because that.
It's the universal answer to justify one's self. This example can be seen most times in crime dramas like CSI, Lie to Me etc.
Yeah you get the point.
We justify ourselves everyday because we believe what we're doing is right. We believe that the other side is wrong. But what if the other side believes they're the ones that are in the right and we're the bad guys? What happens next?
We're at an impasse, that's what.
Both sides will not give in, they'll just keep on going. And so the war continues.
Here's the thing, though.
What if, the action you are trying to justify, isn't really that all justifiable?
Cheers.
Just because I lie..
Just because I hate him..
Just because this, just because that.
It's the universal answer to justify one's self. This example can be seen most times in crime dramas like CSI, Lie to Me etc.
"Just because I hate him doesn't mean I killed him."
Yeah you get the point.
We justify ourselves everyday because we believe what we're doing is right. We believe that the other side is wrong. But what if the other side believes they're the ones that are in the right and we're the bad guys? What happens next?
We're at an impasse, that's what.
Both sides will not give in, they'll just keep on going. And so the war continues.
Here's the thing, though.
What if, the action you are trying to justify, isn't really that all justifiable?
Cheers.
Fish Tales
Yeah, how is everyone lately? I'm fantastic, thanks for asking. SPM is how many days away? I don't know. Désolé, but I lost count. I don't like stressing myself unnecessarily when I'm already stressed enough.
Saturday we went to One Utama. Was deciding where to go for lunch when Mum caught sight of The Gardens. Yes, it's the one with the adjoining boutique and whatnot. So we decided to give it a try, and we ordered from the Lunch set or something of the sort.
The drinks were a choice of Ice Lemon tea, Ice Coffee or tea. All of us toook ILT, and one thing that was cute was that it came in small pitchers! Uber adorable, with the stirrers that had a flower at the top. The soup of the day was onion soup, which I expected to be nice, but I was a bit disappointed as it was just clear broth that smelled heavenly of onions but tasted bland. Like I said,
"It was like drinking onion-smelling water."
Dad ordered the Beef Ginger, which was basically rice, pompadom, and a side dish of beef slices in a brown ginger sauce. Not bad, although the beef was a little tough to chew. Sis ordered the Spaghetti Aglio Ed Olio with Prawns (ha! I actually remembered how to spell it!). It was just spaghetti fried with garlic, olive oil, chilli flakes and some sauteed prawns. Sis was looking expectant when it came in a super large triangular dish that took up almost her whole corner of the table, but the portions were a bit small, though the prawns were big. It kinda reminded me of a convo I had with some friends last year in school when we were talking about French food.
"French food, like foie gras (goose liver), is very expensive, but it's very con lah! You pay so much for the dish, and your plate on the table very big, but then they serve it (the food) on a small dish served on a slightly bigger dish stacked on top of the big plate on the table. Then when you look at it, the foie gras is actually less than a quarter of the size of the original big plate. So, basically, you're paying lotsa money for the stacking of the plates instead of the foie gras itself."
True, in a sense.
Mum took the Seafood Noodles, which comprised of yee meen, mussels, prawns and vegetables. At first she was dubious about it, but later realised that it was worth every cent because the portions were big. Hello, mussels?
Mine was the Butter Ginger Dory Fish with Pineapple and Mashed Potato. Sis wanted to order that as well but took the spaghetti in the end. I was actually quite excited, because I had the idea that it would be those high class-looking dishes, where they'd melt butter in a pan, add in some ginger shreds for flavour, then pour it over the dory fish in a light, brothy kind of sauce, like the ones they used in the posh western restaurants. Then, on the side, they'd give a dab of mashed potato and some pineapple slices.
I had never been so disillusioned.
The fish came, sitting in the middle of the same big triangular plate as Sis's spaghetti did, surrounded by a creamy looking sauce. My first thought was, Hey, is that creamy thing the mashed potato? Maybe they made it so creamy and nice they filled the plate with it and placed the fish on top. Don't laugh; I've learned to appreciate the art of arranging food. Blame Jamie Oliver.
So I dipped my fork into the creamy thing, stuck it into my mouth....and resisted the urge to spit it out again. Because, dear friends, the creamy thing WASN'T the mashed potato; nope, it was the butter sauce. And I love butter, but this time, it tasted as if someone had mushed the soft butter up with 5 pounds of sugar, mixed it around, and dumped it on the plate. Really, it was that sweet. Reminded me a bit of Nigella Lawson.
"Now we pour in a cup of sugar--" dumps in half the bag. "--and we add a pinch of salt--" throws a whole cup inside. Honestly, the woman can give you diabetes.
The butter sauce, it's like you stick it into your mouth, the first thing you can taste is the sweetness. Then after a bit, you can taste the strong taste of butter. Horrible combination. Exactly why I don't like jam. Too sweet.
I want to avoid getting diabetes, so I did what every normal person would do under the circumstances: I skipped the sauce and ate just the fish. Very obviously, I wasn't full. The fish was actually quite nice, but one part annoyed me a bit: Remember the pineapple? I found a thin, tiny slice of it right on top the first portion of fish and that was it. Now I have a feeling that the sweetness in the butter sauce was contributed by the errant pineapple. Then I dug deeper and I found: mashed potatoes! The saving grace! Bit bland, but after the too-sweet texture of the sauce, I was ready to welcome it!
Mum couldn't finish her noodles so I helpfully (ha!) finished it for her, all the while declaring, Thank God for the person who invented the yee meen! Honestly, I wasn't about to underestimate it again.
You might have found The Gardens to your taste, but for me, it was a one time only, never again sorta visit.
Got any bad restaurant tales to share?
Cheers.
Saturday we went to One Utama. Was deciding where to go for lunch when Mum caught sight of The Gardens. Yes, it's the one with the adjoining boutique and whatnot. So we decided to give it a try, and we ordered from the Lunch set or something of the sort.
The drinks were a choice of Ice Lemon tea, Ice Coffee or tea. All of us toook ILT, and one thing that was cute was that it came in small pitchers! Uber adorable, with the stirrers that had a flower at the top. The soup of the day was onion soup, which I expected to be nice, but I was a bit disappointed as it was just clear broth that smelled heavenly of onions but tasted bland. Like I said,
"It was like drinking onion-smelling water."
Dad ordered the Beef Ginger, which was basically rice, pompadom, and a side dish of beef slices in a brown ginger sauce. Not bad, although the beef was a little tough to chew. Sis ordered the Spaghetti Aglio Ed Olio with Prawns (ha! I actually remembered how to spell it!). It was just spaghetti fried with garlic, olive oil, chilli flakes and some sauteed prawns. Sis was looking expectant when it came in a super large triangular dish that took up almost her whole corner of the table, but the portions were a bit small, though the prawns were big. It kinda reminded me of a convo I had with some friends last year in school when we were talking about French food.
"French food, like foie gras (goose liver), is very expensive, but it's very con lah! You pay so much for the dish, and your plate on the table very big, but then they serve it (the food) on a small dish served on a slightly bigger dish stacked on top of the big plate on the table. Then when you look at it, the foie gras is actually less than a quarter of the size of the original big plate. So, basically, you're paying lotsa money for the stacking of the plates instead of the foie gras itself."
True, in a sense.
Mum took the Seafood Noodles, which comprised of yee meen, mussels, prawns and vegetables. At first she was dubious about it, but later realised that it was worth every cent because the portions were big. Hello, mussels?
Mine was the Butter Ginger Dory Fish with Pineapple and Mashed Potato. Sis wanted to order that as well but took the spaghetti in the end. I was actually quite excited, because I had the idea that it would be those high class-looking dishes, where they'd melt butter in a pan, add in some ginger shreds for flavour, then pour it over the dory fish in a light, brothy kind of sauce, like the ones they used in the posh western restaurants. Then, on the side, they'd give a dab of mashed potato and some pineapple slices.
I had never been so disillusioned.
The fish came, sitting in the middle of the same big triangular plate as Sis's spaghetti did, surrounded by a creamy looking sauce. My first thought was, Hey, is that creamy thing the mashed potato? Maybe they made it so creamy and nice they filled the plate with it and placed the fish on top. Don't laugh; I've learned to appreciate the art of arranging food. Blame Jamie Oliver.
So I dipped my fork into the creamy thing, stuck it into my mouth....and resisted the urge to spit it out again. Because, dear friends, the creamy thing WASN'T the mashed potato; nope, it was the butter sauce. And I love butter, but this time, it tasted as if someone had mushed the soft butter up with 5 pounds of sugar, mixed it around, and dumped it on the plate. Really, it was that sweet. Reminded me a bit of Nigella Lawson.
"Now we pour in a cup of sugar--" dumps in half the bag. "--and we add a pinch of salt--" throws a whole cup inside. Honestly, the woman can give you diabetes.
The butter sauce, it's like you stick it into your mouth, the first thing you can taste is the sweetness. Then after a bit, you can taste the strong taste of butter. Horrible combination. Exactly why I don't like jam. Too sweet.
I want to avoid getting diabetes, so I did what every normal person would do under the circumstances: I skipped the sauce and ate just the fish. Very obviously, I wasn't full. The fish was actually quite nice, but one part annoyed me a bit: Remember the pineapple? I found a thin, tiny slice of it right on top the first portion of fish and that was it. Now I have a feeling that the sweetness in the butter sauce was contributed by the errant pineapple. Then I dug deeper and I found: mashed potatoes! The saving grace! Bit bland, but after the too-sweet texture of the sauce, I was ready to welcome it!
Mum couldn't finish her noodles so I helpfully (ha!) finished it for her, all the while declaring, Thank God for the person who invented the yee meen! Honestly, I wasn't about to underestimate it again.
You might have found The Gardens to your taste, but for me, it was a one time only, never again sorta visit.
Got any bad restaurant tales to share?
Cheers.
Thursday, 15 October 2009
I Wear A Mask Every Single Day, A Façade of Calm and Removedness, But Sometimes, The Veneer Cracks, And You Get A Glimpse Of Who I Truly Am.
People take everything at face value.
Their first impressions of people they meet decide if that person would be a good friend or a good colleague. However, first impressions are not the only thing that decides a man's future connections. It is that man's personality, his essence of being, that magnetises the people around him and draws them closer. It is just a matter of getting the time to know them, after all.
The question is, will you take the time to know me?
Their first impressions of people they meet decide if that person would be a good friend or a good colleague. However, first impressions are not the only thing that decides a man's future connections. It is that man's personality, his essence of being, that magnetises the people around him and draws them closer. It is just a matter of getting the time to know them, after all.
The question is, will you take the time to know me?
Wednesday, 14 October 2009
An Angel Falls Freely From Grace, But A Homicidal Angel Hits The Ground With A Bang
I am an angel.
A guardian angel to be exact.
But unlike other angels, I'm homicidal.
The homicidal angel who will kill anyone who touches the people she loves.
Are you one of them?
One of the loved, or one of the people who touches them?
Cheers.
A guardian angel to be exact.
But unlike other angels, I'm homicidal.
The homicidal angel who will kill anyone who touches the people she loves.
Are you one of them?
One of the loved, or one of the people who touches them?
Cheers.
What's My Name Again?
Well, it's been interesting. Went to school. Surprisingly, a large number of people turned up. We were slightly annoyed that we were transferred to 3 Lili instead of going back to our own class. But then the annoyance grew when we entered the class, and lo and behold, electricity was sucked dry and the fans and lights didn't work! So we spent four hours plus in school feeling hot.
Was trying to study chem but failed miserably because it was just so noisy in class. I went to the facilities during English and when I came back, Pn Doreen called me over, asking me what is my name. I think I gave her a wth? look because she explained, Xian Yao sitting in front of her, that it seems she had been mispronouncing my name for 2 years plus. So I had to say my name (with held from Xian Yao, you told her she was mispronouncing my name, right?) and she managed to get it.
Then she was saying that I should've corrected her in the beginning, but I kept quiet for two years straight. At this moment, I just gave a dry smile and went back to my place.
You wanted to know why I didn't bother correcting you? Yeah, it's because of this: I could correct you today, but the next time it's back to Alicia. And then I have to correct you again, and it's all fun and games, then the next time you say my name, it's back to Alicia and I'm tearing my hair out trying to not to commit murder.
'It's pronounced Ee-LEE-sia. Not Alicia. Not Alyssia. EEEEE! It starts with a bloody E, dammit! What's wrong with you people?!'
Inhale, exhale. Do those breathing exercises they always get the pregnant ladies to do. Inhale, exhale. I'm calm now.
To continue, one thing I really dislike (but can't be helped much) is that they always say my name in that Chinese, sing-song way. You know how it is when you're saying something you can't pronounce, you go slow and there's a pause between every syllable? Ee. LEE. sia. There's always a soft pause and, I always imagined, a nodding of heads when they say it. It's Elyssia, no pause, smooth, soothing. It's derived from Elizabeth (lovely name, Elizabeth. Good Queen Bess, Elizabeth Bennet/Swann), and, I'd like to think, the Elysian Fields in Elysium, a section of the Greek underworld where the souls of the great heroes, warriors and the virtuous are. It's essentially paradise.
If you can't pronounce my name at all, Ely (Ellie, Ally, not Eli as in Ee-Lie. But that would be cool, I think. Cool nickname for cool spelling. Come to think of it, Ely as Ee-Lie would be cool. Different from the crowd, but cool) will do just fine. Or Elle would be just as well. Note, you people. Elle is pronounced L, like the letter, not Ellie. You know, Elle Magazine? You have no idea how many people I know pronounce Elle as Ellie.
But I'd really hope that I'd be able to find someone who can actually pronounce my name right first time around, someone I've never known before. It leaves me a good impression, because you've got to be genius to pronounce my name. A Not-Must-Have-But-A-Bonus for whoever my future guy's going to be.
Or if you're Erina, Ely the Elephant is fine as well.
Only if you're Erina.
And if Erina reads this, quit talking about whips and branding and carving names and me in the same sentence because, honestly, it's really disturbing. Really disturbing.
I was really pleased that my name was so unique, but the other day I googled my first name for fun, and I was stunned. The Elyssia with a myspace, don't know who she is, and can't be bothered, but it was the one underneath that that got me.
Can you say, WTH?
I can't hear you...
Louder!
Thank you. Now you understand my frustration.
I've stopped searching for my name. It's devastating.
Brand New Day - Ryan Star. Go check. It's the Lie to Me theme song. Now I can pretend I'm Cal Lightman, with all that British attitude and his forever hunching back. But if you google Tim Roth, he actually looks quite cute when he was younger.
Sigh.
Cheers.
Was trying to study chem but failed miserably because it was just so noisy in class. I went to the facilities during English and when I came back, Pn Doreen called me over, asking me what is my name. I think I gave her a wth? look because she explained, Xian Yao sitting in front of her, that it seems she had been mispronouncing my name for 2 years plus. So I had to say my name (with held from Xian Yao, you told her she was mispronouncing my name, right?) and she managed to get it.
Then she was saying that I should've corrected her in the beginning, but I kept quiet for two years straight. At this moment, I just gave a dry smile and went back to my place.
You wanted to know why I didn't bother correcting you? Yeah, it's because of this: I could correct you today, but the next time it's back to Alicia. And then I have to correct you again, and it's all fun and games, then the next time you say my name, it's back to Alicia and I'm tearing my hair out trying to not to commit murder.
'It's pronounced Ee-LEE-sia. Not Alicia. Not Alyssia. EEEEE! It starts with a bloody E, dammit! What's wrong with you people?!'
Inhale, exhale. Do those breathing exercises they always get the pregnant ladies to do. Inhale, exhale. I'm calm now.
To continue, one thing I really dislike (but can't be helped much) is that they always say my name in that Chinese, sing-song way. You know how it is when you're saying something you can't pronounce, you go slow and there's a pause between every syllable? Ee. LEE. sia. There's always a soft pause and, I always imagined, a nodding of heads when they say it. It's Elyssia, no pause, smooth, soothing. It's derived from Elizabeth (lovely name, Elizabeth. Good Queen Bess, Elizabeth Bennet/Swann), and, I'd like to think, the Elysian Fields in Elysium, a section of the Greek underworld where the souls of the great heroes, warriors and the virtuous are. It's essentially paradise.
If you can't pronounce my name at all, Ely (Ellie, Ally, not Eli as in Ee-Lie. But that would be cool, I think. Cool nickname for cool spelling. Come to think of it, Ely as Ee-Lie would be cool. Different from the crowd, but cool) will do just fine. Or Elle would be just as well. Note, you people. Elle is pronounced L, like the letter, not Ellie. You know, Elle Magazine? You have no idea how many people I know pronounce Elle as Ellie.
But I'd really hope that I'd be able to find someone who can actually pronounce my name right first time around, someone I've never known before. It leaves me a good impression, because you've got to be genius to pronounce my name. A Not-Must-Have-But-A-Bonus for whoever my future guy's going to be.
Or if you're Erina, Ely the Elephant is fine as well.
Only if you're Erina.
And if Erina reads this, quit talking about whips and branding and carving names and me in the same sentence because, honestly, it's really disturbing. Really disturbing.
I was really pleased that my name was so unique, but the other day I googled my first name for fun, and I was stunned. The Elyssia with a myspace, don't know who she is, and can't be bothered, but it was the one underneath that that got me.
Can you say, WTH?
I can't hear you...
Louder!
Thank you. Now you understand my frustration.
I've stopped searching for my name. It's devastating.
Brand New Day - Ryan Star. Go check. It's the Lie to Me theme song. Now I can pretend I'm Cal Lightman, with all that British attitude and his forever hunching back. But if you google Tim Roth, he actually looks quite cute when he was younger.
Sigh.
Cheers.
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