It's a circle!

"Without sustainability, we will not maintain prosperity; and without prosperity, sustainability will remain a vain hope. Without justice, there can be no enduring equity or fairness; and without equity, justice becomes a mere formal myth. Without freedom, community withers under the totalitarian; and without community, freedom becomes fraught and lonely desperation."

Totally awesome quote by Roy Morrison, USBIG Discussion Paper No. 017, February 2002.

Salut untuk Ibu Siami

Ibu Siami,

Saya salut dan bangga atas tekad Ibu mengajar anak anda untuk menghargai kejujuran dengan tindakan nyata. Saya rasa mungkin dari sekian banyak orang yang mengeluhkan kebobrokan Indonesia, tak banyak yang berani mengambil resiko seperti Anda: yang ketika melihat praktek nyata kecurangan berlangsung lalu berani meminta kejelasan siapakah yang mengajarkan anak Anda berkomplot berbuat curang.

Menurut saya, teladan yang baik jauh lebih bernilai daripada berjam-jam kelas agama dan budi pekerti tanpa contoh nyata.

Jelas Anda jauh lebih berani dari saya, dan saya turut berharap AL bisa melanjutkan pendidikan di tempat yang lebih menghargai kejujuran, di manapun itu.

Salam hangat dari Kyoto, Jepang,
Masyhur

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Latar belakang: Suarakan Dukunganmu Terhadap Kejujuran, Si Jujur yang Malah Ajur

On a quiet change of inter-personal appellation

Did you notice that recently I started to use the more colloquial first person pronoun 'gw' in lieu of all-time tested 'aku' on virtual channels recently? Strangely enough, this change is neither voluntary nor involuntary. 

Not voluntary, because in my mind I described the whole thing as "I deign to use 'gw'" and thus signaling rejection on my part. But it's not involuntary either, as I find that I like how egalitarian it sounds--which probably is why other people use it in the very first place. 

You might wonder exactly what is up with my resistance to the ubiquitous 'gw'. And you won't wonder alone. 

Because to be fair, nothing is inherently wrong with 'gue' or its variants 'gua', or 'gw' and 'g' for SMS. My objection was that only it's different, and it's also inconsistent to boot. Dewi Lestari in one of her Supernova novels offers regional differences to explain the different inflection. 

And maybe my reluctance has its root to regional difference as well. As Adhitia Mulya noted in one of the footnotes in Jomblo, the Javanese girls in Bandung stood out for their use of 'aku' instead of the more popular casual 'gua'. Two anecdotal observations from two friends (Puspa, via IMs, and Firman, via tweets) assured me that I am not alone, albeit in a minority. For what it's worth, Puspa went to the same high school with me and lives only a kecamatan away. Firman is from Malang, I think: valid generalization for the following point. 

That said, the best explanation that I can offer is this: raised in Javanese-speaking culture, I already have not one, but three first person pronouns: 'kula' to use with teachers, elders, older strangers; 'saya' as its Indonesian equivalent; and 'aku' for everyone else, family and friends included, in both Javanese and Indonesian. Naturally, the last easily dominates both the former in term of frequency of use, and it serves all purposes just fine. 

So I have a pronoun that works fine. Very fine. And I don't see why I should change something that works so. 

But as with every other things in the world, other inhabitants sometimes have this bizarre idea of running things differently than you intended to. And conveniently for them, there are more of them than you. 

And just like those who espouse extremist values or ridiculous religious belief (cf. May 21st Rapture), one finding oneself in a situation where one do not have the advantages of number, one would resort to make up for it by ferociously clinging to such belief.

If (Principle is True) then Go. Else Stop. 

I would not touch 'gue', not even with a ten feet pole. Particularly because I can never remember how many meters is in a ten-feet and I also do not have a pole. 

Oh, fine, I touched it, all right. But in the past my use of 'gue' is restricted either for ironic and sarcastic abuse (e.g. Guweh habis makan mi ayam pinggir jalan! Mak nyuss!) or to remain faithful when conveying other people's words (e.g. "Ta, si Bunga bilangnya sih 'gw ga mau kalo keluar duit mahal',").

So it should come as no surprise then that I acquire winding casual speaking style, avoiding direct mentions of first and second person pronoun whenever possible (change 'gue' and 'aku' to 'elo' and 'kowe/kamu' in preceding paragraphs and you'll get the gist). 

And then I get to know English. Oh joy!* As English doesn't care whether you're talking to peers, teachers, parents, or your local hobo, it allows you to use the singularly useful 'I' everywhere. Imagine that. No need to give a damn about social structure. Best of all, it's also the same way for the second person pronoun. With very little modification such as appending 'Sir' or 'Professor', you can use 'you' for anyone. 

Is it any wonder I am glad for debating and SEF ITB? They strip daily communication in English at Indonesia off its pomp and let me celebrate egalitarian value in my own personal way. Or you can call the aforementioned value as resistance to change, if you so inclined. 

The next question to be addressed is why do I finally, timidly embrace this change? After all, I'm not living in Indonesia at the moment, you'd say. 

Well, for one, after English, now I get to know Japanese. Oh joy!** A language that is if not as stratified than Indonesian and Javanese, more so than both languages. An antithesis of egalitarian values if I ever knew one. 

'Watashi', 'boku', 'ore', 'atashi' are there to trip you off. Casual '-ru' verbs and formal '-masu' ending aggravates one's insecurity, making one constantly wondering if the local sees a foreigner--albeit with a brown face--as stand-offish. 

Not that I'd have any problem described as stand-offish, mind you. I've had my share of seeing 'stoic' and 'non-expressive' used to describe me. None would puzzle me in a bit. Though I'd have to honestly admit that 'warm' and 'beaming smile' never fail to make me double take then roll my eyes heavenward when they are used to describe me. 

But back to personal pronouns: me stopping to cling to 'aku' would be consistent with me generally saying principles-with-less-than-fundamental-reasons-to-espouse be damned. If you know me well, you'd know what principles I'm talking about. The rest of you, you'll just have to take my words for it. They're good words, if I may say so myself. 

On a more practical level, I figured a relaxation in stance will help me immerse myself in using the ever confusing Japanese. As I get the hang of using and mixing 'gue' with 'aku', so should I get the hang of referring to myself with 'boku'. 

Which is just about time. 

*genuine happiness here. 
** less-than-genuine happiness here. 

The Danger in Metaphors

It takes very little before we identify ourselves with a fictional character.

Suppose you're a girl, but feel more comfortable with a boy's haircut, have a loyal dog, and generally wanting to always challenge authority. Meet Georgina a.k.a. George.

Suppose you're an orphan, living close with a pampered cousin that always receive a better deal, better toys than you. You'll find it easy to imagine you're Harry Potter.

Suppose you're a girl just moved in to new neighborhood. People tell you you're clumsy, and you feel you have had no luck with boys. You should beware lest you identify yourself with Bella Swan.

If I stop here at three examples, it's really not for the lack of examples.

But thinking you had something in common with Harry Potter is a relatively harmless association, because will it all you want, no owl will suddenly knock your window to invite you to Hogwarts. To some extent, so is an association with Bella Swan. Though if you're a girl who wants an uninvited creep to watch you sleeping, I'd wager some will be willing to grant your wish. Too willing, even.

Then what if the character that you're associating is just a step above ordinary? The character you associate with does not wave magical wands to levitate objects, nor does she have an idiotic urge to be a vampire. Would then you be able to separate where fantasy ends and reality begins?

I guess this is what Tomas in Milan Kundera's The Unbearable Lightness of Being unwittingly committed himself into. By identifying Tereza as a child put in a bulrush basket and sent downstream and he as a Pharaoh's daughter that snatch baby Moses, he assigned characters for himself and Tereza.

See, this is why Kundera then wrote,
"Tomas did not realize at the time that metaphors are dangerous. Metaphors are not to be trifled with. A single metaphor can give birth to love."

By putting himself in a Moses metaphor, Tomas bind his action to follow his character in the metaphor. He then took Tereza in to his life (snatching the basket out of the river), and guardew her, which subsequently grew compassion.

When you employ a metaphor, associate a character for your own life, lest you be able to separate truth from fiction, you will follow in your metaphorical character's step. If anything, for consistency's sake.

And I fear we often do so voluntarily.

Because so powerful is our desire to see the future, the metaphors that we employ become our means to divine our future, forecasting the result of the action that we take by means of the result that our metaphorical characters took.

[TBC]

So you abhor violence

And you saw what can only be classified as a naked display of violence. You saw a cuffed man, wailing. Loudly. 

Which is an acceptable response, given that at that moment five people were taking turns beating him. Punching him at the face and gut. Slapping his left cheek and right. 

Where was this? This was at Dukuh Atas busway stop, Jakarta. Early morning on Wednesday, March 23rd. 

Given the appearance of who beating whom (four transjakarta employees and one man in white formal shirt beating a man in orange-and-black t-shirt), I think my assumption that they were beating a petty thief caught red-handed must not have been far from the truth. 

And he wailed, loudly. 

So I averted my sight, cranked up the volume of my iPod. 

And still he wailed. 

Oh, tush, you bleeding heart. He was not even bleeding. See other waiting passengers' sight: see their eyes widened watching the violence, see them glued to the scene. 

Fortunately the bus I was waiting for was coming. So away I went. 

In defense of the word apartheid

Dear Ms. Natalie Portman,

I'm writing to express my dismay of your rejection to the term "apartheid" used by Faisal Chaudhry in his Op-Ed, "An Ideology of Oppression." Although I agree that physically, the Palestinian and Israelis physiques are not as markedly different as Africans and Caucasians in South Africa, it does not mean that discrimination does not occur.

We don't have to look any further beyond the encroaching separation wall, built by Israel, to "contain" violent elements away from Israeli civilian lives. A separation wall that obviously makes mere transport difficult for the Palestinian. And then there's the checkpoints, where people without Israeli ID can be hold up for hours, making any journey to work, study, or emergency medical situation uncertain.

All I am saying is that discriminations occur. It might be not on the base of race, but it occurs. And the term apartheid feels more apt than anything to describe that. As the saying goes, "A rose by any other name still smells sweet," so does the injustice done to the Palestinian. It doesn't matter that you refuse to name it so, we still know life is fraught with unfairness for the Palestinians.

You say that it was an untrue finger-pointing tactic, I say it is untrue indeed but only if we adhere to the strictest of definition. You say it is finger pointing, but time and again we read that israel often does not honor its words to freeze settlements. You say it is childish, I say it's an evocative name that befits the injustice on the ground.

If you fear that such name will portray a sweeping insensitive prejudice of the Israeli, I wish you had the ability to stomach that. Maybe if it persists, it would finally force your government to act accordingly. For far too long of a time the world have been ready to condemn Israel by a UN resolution, and it was only by the veto from US that the resolution is not passed.

However, I agree with you that any loss of life on either side is a loss immeasurable. Countless blood have been shed, and if you dream of a future where Israel and Palestine people live together with no bloodshed, I share the same dream too.

At the end, I would like to acknowledge that your letter was 9 years old, and maybe you have been all but forgotten it. Maybe you had even changed your stance. It's a shame I wouldn't know, as the people who shared the link to your letter say no more word of it. So maybe my feeling of dismay shouldn't have been directed at you, but rather to the self-proclaimed critical thinkers who blindly pass your old words along, in their haste to praise you. I'm aware that people can be starstruck even from a mighty distance, and maybe it's what breaks my heart.

Lastly, I would like to congratulate you on your Academy Award success with Black Swan. I haven't had the chance to see it on the big screen--I'm not even sure it has already been screened in japan--but I'm sure it must be riveting. After all, I did enjoy your portrayal of Evey Hammond.

Yours,
Masyhur

I don't get art

And if it makes me a simpleton, then I am one.

I do realize that "art" itself is a term too general, covering from pieces of music to ceramic vases to aurora borealis. Some of those, I do get. But when we're talking fine art, say painting, I can confidently say here that I don't get them. (I daresay if you ask me again in a posher event you'll find me nodding along the snobs).

I don't get, for example, why a bunch of sunflowers in a vase painted in a canvas can fetch millions. The one painted by van Gogh are not even painted in perspective.

I don't get, for an even bizarre example, what seemingly as odd collection of organs in clashing colors would beckon someone to open his wallet in an effort to exhibit it in his study.

I can go on and on and on.

When I compare that with other work of art, I rather thought it is because the minimal time of appreciation required for a painting is, well, minimal. Say a piece of "modern" music, which has been lamented as catering only to ADD generation, spanning not more than 5 minutes per track, they still require exactly that. Five minutes for a full listen.

In another hand, you can glance a painting for three seconds and be done with it already.

Compare that with a book. How many books are there that you can finish in a single sitting? And that's just for a one-time reading. Short stories are shorter and yet they still require more time to appreciate.

Then there's the ability to inspire. Some music would move your hands involuntarily for an airdrum. Some would reduce you to tears. Others, warm your cloudy days (or nudge you to suicide). Still others would enrage.

Not so with painting. Have you ever heard someone called to dance after watching a painting of people dancing? Have you ever feel that you would like to kiss your love after watching a painting? And surely we can make do already with all the idyllic painting of greens in the world?

The best that you can get maybe is a feeling of longing, if it depicts something of a distant and unreachable past. Maybe the paintings of greens will be even more valuable in 2050, when all Earth is barren post nuclear winter. If mankind still survives, that is.

Still, for all its limited ability, how can they command such price? I don't think I've ever heard a piece of music being auctioned and make headlines for the bagful of money it's being sold at.

Then there's also the matter of expression. If you read me lashing about paintings of lazy grasses, that's because I don't get it. What are they supposed to say? "Wouldn't it be good to frolick under the sun, enveloped by summer warmth?" That we can do in public park. Unnecessary at best, noisy at worst.

Perhaps paintings is the best embodiment of art for art's sake. Highly subjective, and its biggest value is in the making. Yes, I'll just go back to bed and a good happy new year to you.

Semaian ribang

Siangilah bibit teragak itu, jangan biarkan bersemi.

Buah Terlarang

Dan Kami berfirman, “Hai Adam diamilah oleh kamu dan isterimu surga ini, dan makanlah makanan-makanannya yang banyak lagi baik dimana saja yang kamu sukai, dan janganlah kamu dekati pohon ini, yang menyebabkan kamu termasuk orang-orang yang dzalim. (QS 2:35)

Sayang Adam dan Hawa ngeyel (setelah dibujuk Syaithon). Maka hap-hap, mereka ambil buah itu, makan, ketahuan, Adam dapat jakun dan Hawa dapat payudara*.

Setahu saya, versi populernya--ehm, masyhur--di Barat, si buah itu adalah buah apel. Saya ga tau apa ada secara eksplisit disebutkan di Injil, tapi mungkin sih ngga. Karena waktu saya baca kumpulan tajuk rencana Kompas karangan Jakob Oetama, sempat disinggung mungkin sebenarnya buahnya itu adalah buah mangga.

Lebih masuk akal daripada apel sih, terutama karena apel perlu iklim dingin untuk tumbuh (I'm thinking Malang here)--sementara (CMIIW) konsep aurat baru ada setelah mereka makan si buah terlarang itu. Udara dingin+ga pakai baju=bukan surga ideal. Hmm, atau justru ideal ya?

Bandingkan dengan mangga! Buah tropis = iklim hangat, berarti lebih nyaman kalau konsep pakaian belum dibutuhkan. Skor satu poin untuk Jakob Oetama!

Nah, sekarang saya mau mengajukan satu hipotesa: si buah itu sebenarnya adalah buah durian!

Kenapa durian? Karena banyak yang suka. Oh, durian juga buah tropis lho, jadi mendukung hipotesa iklim surga. Tapi ada beberapa asumsi yang diperlukan agar hipotesa ini bernilai benar:
(1) Durian di surganya Adam dan Hawa tidak berkulit duri.
(2) a. Adam dan Hawa adalah penyuka aroma durian (Hawa berkata, "Iya, Dam, baunya itu lho, sedap dan membangkitkan liur! Mmmmm"); atau b. Durian surga baunya baru muncul setelah dikupas (Adam mengupas durian, mencium baunya, dan berseru, "Gusti! Bau apa ini?" Sambil mengunyah**, Hawa berkata, "I bet you're not manly enough to eat the fruit!").
(3) a. The Almighty ga suka bau durian; atau b. His sense of humor was great jadi dia menciptakan buah berbau--yah tau lah maksudnya (jadi Dia terpanggil oleh seruan Adam di 2b).

I'm personally leaning to 3.a.; sehingga setelah Adam dan Hawa buka buahnya, Dia mencium baunya, dan murka: "WHO DARETH TO SPOILTH MY PARADISE WITH SUCH UN-GO.... YOU HUMANS!"

Kami berfirman: "Turunlah kamu! sebagian kamu menjadi musuh bagi yang lain, dan bagi kamu ada tempat kediaman di bumi, dan kesenangan hidup sampai waktu yang ditentukan". (QS 2:36)

------
* Apakah ini berarti Hawa tidak berpayudara sebelumnya? Lalu--uh, postur tubuhnya kayak apa ya?
** Karena untuk bahan payudara Hawa perlu makan buahnya jauh lebih banyak daripada sejumput bahan jakun
------

EPILOG

Kemudian Adam menerima beberapa kalimat dari Rabb-nya, maka Allah menerima taubatnya. Sesungguhnya Allah Maha Penerima taubat lagi Maha Penyayang. (QS. 2:37)

Setelah turun ke Bumi dan menemukan Hawa kembali, Adam pun berdoa, "Ya Allah, sesungguhnya aku telah mengecap rasa buah-Mu, sudikah Engkau menurunkannya pula ke Bumi ini sebagai pengingat?*"

And true to His fashion of humor, He let grow durian abundantly. With spikes as bonus. Sebagai pengingat penderitaan Adam.

------
* Typical man, I tell you, try to outsmart his better. Padahal ngaku aja jadi pengen lagi karena baru makan secokot kan sama aja.

The Sun

I

I wonder if the Sun ever feels loneliness. Flattered, but lonely.

He has four gaseous things that adore him from afar. They shine, alright, but their beams are borrowed light. Miserable specks of stolen splendor.

From him.

II

I wonder if the Sun ever feels jealousy. Stuck in a solitary with no one to keep him company.

He has no companion star, and when he gaze for the brilliance that lies near, would envy be something he fear? 

For a mere parsec away, the Centauris couple seemed happy with each other. She shine her light on him, his on her, rotating in an eternal dance. 

Blessed with Proxima Centauri, he thought that they might as well have a white picket fence (with roses!) around their dwelling.

III

I wonder if the Sun ever feels regret. The scars, they were never intended to be there.

Yet for all he said and done, Mercury is burnt, and Venus is barren. 

So much for brilliance. And he is not even that stunning. He.. is stock. If one care to traverse the galaxy, his kind is really abundant. 

So he traverses. 

IV

I wonder if the Sun ever feel hopeless. Felt that all that is there in the store for him is wasting away.

Tugged by gravity, he travels the galaxy. He follows the faint traces of other stars before him, hoping for an interaction or two.

But lately it dawned on him: it's a moving target. No matter how long he walks on his path, dragging his victims and admirers along, it's one emptiness after another. He realizes that others have also been there in this journey, but they left him on his own.

V

I wonder if the Sun ever feel the universe is unfair. 

Afterall, what good is longevity when you are subjected to involuntary solitary?

VI

I wonder if the Sun ever wished for the future. For everything to be different than they are.

VII

From: "apollo@mw.sg3.net"

To: "yellowdoorknob"

Sent: Sun, December 5, 2010 1:46:01 AM

Subject: I-VI

You know, you really shouldn't worry. I know anthropomorphizing celestial bodies is fun and all, but ultimately it never changes anything. I'm perfectly content where I am. Maybe you should, too. 

PS: You might want to worry about Gaia a bit, though. I heard her wheeze the other day. You know how proud she is, she won't even ask for help, not even when she bleeds oil. 

PPS: Don't let her know I said that about her!