vtech massacre

a korean student at viriginia tech university went on a rampage and killed 33 people, including himself.

at about 7.15am, for reasons unknown, he went to a dormitory and shot a black girl and her mentor, who tried to protect her against the shooter.

he then returned to his dormitory and compiled a package which was subsequently sent out to NBC, incuding several dozen pictures of himself posing angrily with guns and knives, as well as video clips of himself reciting from a 1800-word manifesto, depicting angst and hatred for people who "vandalized my heart, raped my soul and torched my conscience".

after posting the package, he continued with his massacre, going through the classrooms in norris hall and relentlessly killing every person in sight. traumatic and disoriented students and lecturers tried everything they could possible think of to survive, from heroically using their own bodies as shields for their students, to pushing tables against the classroom doors, to playing dead on the floor.

the monumental tragedy was complete when the deadliest mass murderer in american history shot himself in the head, adding the final increment to the death toll.

investigations revealed the identity of the shooter as cho seung-hui, 23, a korean final year student who, according to his manifesto, was cruelly oppressed by the more affluent students in the community, frequently describing himself as a victim of torture and abuse. he was invariably motivated by the columbine killings, which occurred 8 years ago to the week, as referenced in the 1800-word diatribe, in which he also remarked about getting revenge against unspecified wrongs done against him.

the world solemnly looks on as investigations continue to uncover more shocking facts and revelations. one can only wonder about the inevitable ripple-effect generated by a tragedy of such epic proportions.

Passing On

In Loving Memory

Of My Dearest Uncle

Alan Chiang Hock Onn

3rd May 1967

To

8th April 2007

National Service

this blog, regrettably, hasn't been updated for a year and a half, owing to the distinct fact that, as my youth expires into the sands of time, i've been throttling at warp speed into adulthood, entailed with mandatory dedications and commitments - explicitly, the wretched duty to serve out my liabilities to the nation.

blogging has evolved from an almost daily routine into an annual luxury trip away from the unrelenting pressures of reality. even though there's always been a mountain of blogging inspiration waiting to be mined, i've had neither the time nor strength to pick up the shovel. peering over the horizon, it doesn't appear to me that regular updates would be on their course, either. if, and when, constraints allow, i would definitely make a concerted effort to keep my thoughts penned down.

dreams

i've hardly had any time for leisure after my enslavement to the food stall. for the past two months, breaks have been few and far between. more often than not, i would find myself drinking my free time away. on occasions when desire outweighed budget, i would be rotting away to either a torrent of consecutive live football matches, or discovery channel/national geographic. i guess strange things tend to happen when you live your life this way.


dream 1:

i'm trekking through a forest with my buddy png, when we stumble upon an abandoned cave. we go deep in, and realize it's a musky old tunnel, leading to the site of our old secondary school. to our right, there is a murky pond; to our left is a little brown hill with a flight of steps leading to the top. further ahead of us, there are two adjacent basketball courts.

the first court is occupied by a 7-foot barbarian, complete with just a loin-cloth for a skirt, and 2 metal chains slung criss-crossed over his shoulders. he's shooting hoops with his pet, which happens to be a colossal tiger, spanning a quarter of the court's area. the second court hosts several indian boys, one of which i recognize to be our old schoolmate. png sees him too, and shouts his name out loud. of course, his thunderous call catches the attention of our old schoolmate, as well as everyone else - including the tiger.

the giant cat arches its back, revealing razor-sharp mandibles, and charges towards us. png leaps into the murky green waters of the algae-infested pond. my heart pounds like a jack-hammer as the tiger focuses its murderous eyes on me. i race up the steps of the hill, and as i glance down at my feet, i realize that the hill is actually a pyramid of well-stacked chicken nuggets. i arrive at the apex and reach out for the top piece of nugget and fling it blindly. the tiger dives through the air and catches the nugget in its jaws. i wake up with an adrenalin rush, and lingering heavily over me, an ominously large question mark.


dream 2:

i'm at a romantic candle-lit dinner in a fancy restaurant with a gorgeous lady. we exchange pleasantries and sip our wine. our orders are taken, and we engage in amorous conversation. out of the blue, i feel a thud against my expensive-looking leather shoes. i peer under the table, and find a gigantic anaconda hissing its forked tongue at me.

instantaneously, i lunge at it with both hands and lock its diamond-shaped head in a vice-like grip. its vicious jaws snare open. i apply even more pressure down on its skull with my thumbs. i've never touched a snake before, but i swear the coolness and texture of its leathery scale must feel exactly like the real thing. a semi-muted crack announces the death of the reptile. i wake up feeling relieved and victorious.


as it seems, i've probably overdosed on wildlife documentaries. these weird dreams have left me rather bewildered and wondering about their elusive deeper meanings. there could possibly be more such dreams, but i often forget about my dream moments after i awake. i wonder if anyone has a sensible decryption for them. maybe it's my sub-conscious trying to tell me something that i should probably know. it's probably some hidden feelings of insecurity or something.

dejection

her mind is tiffany-twisted..
she got the mercedes bends..

club pub club bump

my night commenced with a trip to zouk to mark my attendance again, after absenting myself for quite some time. sometimes i wonder why i even bother to maintain that twice-a-month chore to ensure the continuation of my membership. clearly, i've grown out of the place. even mambo doesn't feel the same anymore. sigh.

anyway, i got pretty restive after 3 hoegaardens, and keenly subscribed to png's notion of changing the environment to something more conducive to chilling out. we went down to boat quay, and chanced upon some old friends. i ruled the pool table for a while, and then the manager of the place, apparently indisposed by his gung-ho inclination to often have one too many bottoms up's, unpleasingly remarked that the joint was about to close. we left for supper, and the name 'momo' popped up.

next thing we knew, our attention was divided between parking the car at central mall, and avoiding a nearby skirmish involving not a small number of guys who were too old for the term 'teenagers', yet behaving too childishly to be adults. guys kinda like myself, in fact. the left side-view mirror brushed past an angry boy, and i instinctively did our driver a favour by raising an apologetic palm to him. i saw no point in spoiling our merry-making by aggravating an aggressive alcohol-arrested adolescent. we went in through the back door, and welcomed the sight of a live band playing rather solid rock music. we didn't linger too long though. there was greater promise lying deeper within.

the group split into two divisions - the dancefloor hunters and the pool table hustlers. surprisingly, lust was not on the menu tonight, so i had no intention of hooking up with any girls. i decided to exploit my good run of form on the table. my two dollar-coins reaped in more than an hour of much-appreciated recreation, and made me two new acquaintances along the way, although right now i rather ashamedly confess that the memory of their faces are vague, and their names anonymous. i'm quite sure i'll recognize them the next time we meet - 'quite' being the keyword here.

it was drizzling on the way home, and our friend behind the steering wheel ran us into a lamp post. it sounds like i'm saying this in jest here, but i'm not kidding. she had night blindness, and at the junction, she mistook the pavement for the lane. i'm just glad there were no pedestrians, or she wouldn't have escaped with just a brief reprimand for the dent in the front bumper. in retrospect, i'm weirdly relieved my first road accident happened this way. at least no injuries were inflicted, and i had a funny recollection to store into memory.

i realize this entry has a ubiquitous tone of obscurity that's wearisome to read, but then again, i'm just too jaded and uninspired, so i'll stop here.

the matchstick

once upon an imaginary time, there was a matchstick. nothing wonderful or fascinating could be said about him; he was just like the others in the box, except that he often dreamt of being a medical tool, like a scalpel or a syringe. as a victim of the circumstances that convoluted his very existence, he never had the liberation to observe personal hygiene. thus, he developed a dandruff problem, and his condition was rapidly deteriorating.

one day, it got the better of him, and after countless attempts to fight off the urge of scratching his head, temptation triumphed over sensibility. consequently, it took just one fateful scrape to spark off a combustion which eradicated the whole box of matches.

as divine as interventions come, our little matchstick survived and was rushed to the hospital for treatment, re-emerging as none other than a cotton bud, one of the most germane inventions to the cause of personal hygiene! however, survivor guilt threw him over the edge of sanity, and following little contemplation, he abruptly ended his life by leaping into a bottle of alcohol.

the moral of the story is that sometimes forsaking rationale might be a means to a solution, if only you manage to afford the costs and survive the consequences. if you can't, then drinking won't help you; it'll only kill you.