The Depths Of Shallowness

Drowning, Drowning in Cynicism; Drunk, Drunk with Sentimentality; Down, Down with Love; Dunked, Dunked in Life. Desperate Discourse. Disposable Desires. Dusky Dreams. Delirium. Dignity. Despair. Doubt. Duty. Dewy Days. Divine Divide. Dump Everything that Bothers in The Depths of Defiance. 《我的快樂時代》唱爛 才領悟代價多高昂 不能滿足不敢停站 然後怎樣 All Rights Reserved ©Angeline Ang

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Tempestuous. Intense. Proud. Intellectual. Easily Bored. Consummate Performer. Very Chinese. Very Charming. Fair. Pale. Long, Curly, Black Hair. BA(Hons). Literature. Philosophy. Japanese. Law. Dense in Relationships. Denser in All Else. Brooding. Sceptical. Condescending. Daria Morgendorffer meets Kitiara Uth Matar meets Ally McBeal. Always dreamy, always cynical, always elusive. Struggling writer, artist and student, in that order please.

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

Wordly Musings Of The Worldly Kind

On judges who show up on TV and decide on what’s talent and prettiness – seriously, if they were to join the competition during the peak of their youth, they would not get in. (Actually, I’m also of the opinion most of the wildly popular and talented singers from the 80s to now would never win – so what does that tell you?) I remember thinking how fugly a male judge was a decade plus back and how flat and insipid ie unrecognizable his dull vocals were. Imagine my surprise when I learnt he became a vocal trainer and some kind of image consultant on the side over the years. The last straw was seeing him on TV (and still fugly) and being all catty and caustic about the contestants’ purported lack of looks and talent. They beat you hands down, my man. When you are fugly and manage to wring a modestly successful career out of nothing, you should keep a low profile. At least refrain from being openly critical, since people will just look at you and go WTF in their heads.

I’m fairly sure these star-searching shows have good intentions but the worldly market forces of economics demand that humiliation be omniscient from the start to grab attention, ratings and the ka-ching.

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The world functions in such a way that I fail to get it. Is it absolute so in material terms that I can only gingerly approach it through the mechanics of money (is that why I succumbed to consumerism so easily these days). Is talent a marketable good or marketability a talent that drowns the former. Must it be an issue of either/or, that is the question.

Then again, what is marketable really depends on the hardworking publicist, isn’t it. I should know.

I see all these print columnists and writers and I go WTF over and over again. My Lit, or for that matter, Philo Honours kakis would be seriously depressed and de-motivated, decrying the ridiculousness of it, when they bother to think about it, as I do when I slow down. The fact that we can write and think well and have a degree to show for it counts for nothing in the real world (as proven by yours truly in at least two significant incidents that still burn raw into my consciousness). It would be excellent if I can celebrate that based on the arbitrary standards, the field is open and accepting. But yup, WTF, apparently not. Somehow there is still no explanation why you can publish articles from A whose merit and experience is debatable and stop short of giving a fair opportunity to B to prove his/her worth.

Yes, I am rather bitter about how some things have turned out in the most ironic kind of way. But such bitterness is really reserved for dark, dark days in the light of things. As someone senior and nice told me yesterday, I’m still young, and I look younger than my age but getting passed that, life should be pretty nice, given what I have achieved so far.

Still. The indignation of being doubted so! Especially at something I’ve always been nothing short of sterling at.

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I had a nightmare a couple days ago. I dreamt I got what I want and broke out in a cold sweat. Can I want it this un-badly? What is the true corollary?

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On Elitism:

As far as school rankings and reputations go, my friends and I would be considered the average elite (Yessir, even the elites have their average-ness and mediocrity, which being ordinary amongst the overachievers can be even more brutal and scary than the real, raw deal) . We have not chosen the Rafflesian family, opting to go for the traditional chinese school (DHS rocks, like real) and the lesser credited amongst the top five JCs (TJC rocks, for real). Most of us ended up in NUS and even those who went overseas did not study in Harvard or Cambridge or Oxford. We received our scholarships but none of us were of the President Scholar kind.


But we were acknowledged elites nevertheless, and we were brought up believing that intellect and hard work take you to places. But somehow, upon graduation and you are engaged animatedly (but never intimately enough, for the distance can be rather unreasonable in all senses to bridge) with the world that is disconnected from student-ly ideals and loftiness, you realise no one gives a shit about intellect and hard work most of the time. Know what, it's perfectly fine to adopt a WTF attitude towards scholars when you are not the one who want their 4-8 years. But when you are the one, surely it makes sense to suss out the scholars so that everyone is happy in what they are doing and able to make meaningful contributions.

Read this. And tell me I'm not a casualty of the system. Tell me we are not. But why are we struggling so unhappily despite the elite tag. Yes, partly it's failed comparisons with peers doing better (I believe in tracking to live well), and partly because of the pseudo glamour of being a scholar in a particular field - that no one quite believes in our deep, dark depression. Mostly because we are atrophying, and we are caught in circumstances too dangerous and delicate. There can be worse things I'm sure, but for now, as a young, intelligent, talented and attractive being, nothing beats atrophying and feeling generally helpless about the state (of things, of course).

You can reserve your rights to be unsympathetic, but really, sometimes the whole burden of being an elite, the belief in your elitism, that you have to live well and make something out of yourself to prove something (to yourself, if not everyone) is really too heavy a cross to bear. You don't want to change the belief for it may mean something more indigestible and traumatic (ie you were a fake elite; you are less good), so the onus is to live well as testimonial to your self-worth. Tragic but yes, I'm enslaved to such a mantra.

Addendum: Things happen, and not, for a reason. I may be very well on track still. As I have told some friends, it’s only annoying because I don’t think much of it in the first place, and yet due to circumstances, have allowed it to be in a position of power whereby it can deliver hurt and humiliation. *shrugs* Seriously, PSC scholars definitely have the better deal, as compared to scholars of other namesakes. As it is, I am relieved to learn of the no, and yes, I still believe I deserve better. And I contest anyone who dares say my status automatically translates to fairer or better treatment to a word duel – it can be the liability. You don’t know how hard I have to fight to get anywhere at all. It’s WTF pathetic. I guess if I can’t have dreams, the moolah will have to suffice. Yeah, just show me the money. The rest can come later.

1 Comments:

Blogger cinewhore said...

While I may not have the money to show for it, I have never let them doubt my self-worth. Only I am allowed to doubt myself, and only for short periods of time.

It may sound stupid, but one of the best ways of getting through the day is looking yourself in the mirror and saying, "You are so fucking brilliant."

I am the best because I choose to believe I am the best. This doesn't mean I have to feel threatened when I feel someone else's ability is above mine. I know I have to respect them for their abilities, and so be it. As long as I feel good about myself, so what if a couple of people are more capable than me? I know I'm still better than most.

But at the same time, being better does not entitle you to being an asshole to other people. Except the ones who are assholes to you.

Ah, what am I talking about? I lost track. Perhaps my brilliance is over-rated.

1:48 AM  

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