If you should be interested in a wider range of areas you might observe yourself coming up with ideas in whatever field you are currently spending time on. If, for some reason, you'd like to have more ideas in a different field (say writing poems rather than dealing with politics), the only way to control your inspiration is in an indirect way: control of input data.

You can choose the books and articles you read, you can control the media you consume and the people you spend your time with. The brain will adapt to its situation and creativity will bring up associated ideas. Whatever they will be -- they will be related to your sensory and intellectual input.

For one thing you need to have the required knowledge to become a master of anything.  So the first part of my goal requires learning, lots and lots of learning.  Its tricky with game design as I find myself disagreeing with individuals that have an insane amount of experience in making games.  And I think that is completely normal because games are supposed to be fun and you are supposed to be creating this fun.  Simply put its hard to label something as fun because what is fun for you might be boring or even agonizing to me.  A perfect example is Trivia games and games that require you to be loud and possibly take part in embarrassing scenarios. I hate them.  Well maybe hate is a strong word, I refuse to play them because I dislike them so much.  They don't interest me, they make me angry and I don't want to embarrass myself.  Its not fun for me to play those games but that is not to say that those style of games are not fun.

However, It is important to note that knowledge can never be enough to achieve mastery over a form of art.  Experience is a requirement and probably the second thing you need to seek after knowledge.  You need to actually put your knowledge to the test but that isn't to say experience is more valuable than knowledge.  This can be traced back to the individual and how they process information and gain knowledge and experience.  While one person can think extensively in theories others have to actually just do it.  Personally I love to create theories and play them out in my brain or with notepad or pen/pencil.  I know others prefer to just start making stuff but it really is rooted in the way your brain absorbs this information.  Either way the truth is you need experience and you need to make games.  It is important to every game designer though I prefer to think creating your own theories will play an irreplaceable part in learning the art of game design.

As you gain knowledge and experience you are also struggling to achieve efficiency.  This is one thing that pisses me off to no extent.  I know that if I had just a bit more knowledge and just a bit more experience I would be able to shave hours off each project and use that extra time to contribute in other areas.  I absolutely despise re-doing work and I can't stand the fact that after I do something I found another method that would have saved me time.  Though I know these experiences ultimately make me more efficient I just wish there was an easier way to achieve this than screwing up.  Wasted time sucks not only for you but for teammates.  To achieve mastery you have to be efficient in every sense of the word.

After you gain these things I would imagine that you could possibly master the art of game design but really when is that?  Will there ever be a time where you know you've mastered something?  And really is there more to mastery than knowledge, experience and efficiency?  There has to be.  Creativity has to mean something and of course natural talent also will be meaningful.

Kind of strange, I have only started my career as a game designer and I am trying to figure out how I can master the art.  It is almost like starting a new game.  You're the newb and you're trying to find the best way to become a high level character.  I imagine it might have a similar progression line as it would leveling up in a game.  You gain a bunch of levels at fist then later you start leveling up much more slowly and you also have to work much harder at it.  I really don't know, this is all speculation.

When my father died in 1997 of a heart attack on Father's Day morning, I heard about it in an email from my brother while I was teaching in South Korea.  Since then I have regretted that I never once took the time to say "I love you" to him.

When a month before I got married I got cold feet and something told me that I was getting married for the wrong reason, I regret not listening to my heart for one of the few times in my life.  It would have saved me much grief. 

When I met a woman who had been beaten up in Spokane, Wa.  I still wonder if I should have "done the right things" by taking her home.  She turned out to be an alcoholic and a liar and it took me two years to learn that I needed her as much as she "needed" me.

I guess these regrets I have learned from over the past 20 years.  It hasn't been easy learning from my own mistakes and misjudgements.  I learned early in life that it is much easier to learn from the mistakes of others.  Watch and learn and see if their experience has brought them grief or wisdom. 

Of course there are pros and cons to both sides of this learning curve.  If you learn from other's then you save yourself some of the pain and unnecessary woes.  However, by learning from your own mistakes you grow in a new and different way.  Both are good, but I guess the wisdom is learning what mistakes are better learned by watching others.  Those such as learning not to kill, steal or deal drugs are best left to learning by watching and deciding if you can handle the consequences of being caught and spending time in jail. 

Growing by learing from your own mistakes can also best be judged by each individual, but I have found that those of love and loss, though they may hurt the most, may be the best learning experiences I have had to this day.

So look within yourself and find the wisdom of watching and learning, but don't forget to live and love.  It is by living and loving that we can have some of the best experiences  and some of the best lessons.

My sister, who is a medical doctor, told me that I almost died. I don’t know if she was serious or if she was joking, but I didn’t believe her when she told me so. This is a matter that you rarely joke about. And knowing her, she’s not the type to make such jokes either. But in any case, I didn’t feel like I was in the verge of dying. There was no indication that I was about to die, you know, the usual symptoms we see in movies when actors act out a scene that they are about to die, gasping for their last breath.

“This is your 2nd chance at life,” she said, almost frantically, as if to drive home the point. She might have read my unbelieving facial expression. Even if I didn’t say anything to her, she probably saw the reaction of disbelief in my face, and she just had to react to it. “You almost died,” she said over and over again. Alright, I believe her.

But, I’m still alive. And I’m feeling fine. But that wasn’t the case early this year. When I returned to my parents’ house in Atlanta from a business trip to California last January, I wasn’t feeling fine. The two weeks that I was in San Francisco, I had high fever and my skin just started to turn red all over. My condition started to deteriorate, and I was increasingly having difficulty to move about. What was embarrassing was that I had flakes that I was covering up and hiding all over. Only my face was showing. Like a burrito, I was all wrapped and bundled up. Good thing it was winter, I have an excuse to be wrapped up as if I were a mummy. My eyes constantly felt hot. It was reddish, and I felt constantly dehydrated and about to vomit. On top of that, I couldn’t walk fast or carry my heavy luggage. My joints were swollen, and my knees felt weak and painful. It was hard even to just stand up from a sitting position. It took so much effort to move.

My mother, who fetched me at the airport, was shocked to see my condition. She couldn’t believe her eyes. On the way home, while in the car, I asked everyone to throw their jackets and cover me. I was feverish. And I was having chills. Everyone was confused and nobody really understood what was going on. It was the first time that something like that happened to me. When we got home, I took some medication, went straight to bed, and tried to get some sleep.

The next two weeks, my condition worsened. I got more and more red, and my entire body turned totally red. My skin was swollen in parts, and like a snake changing skin, I was shedding profusely. That was when I earned the nickname, The Red Man.

Wrapped in thick blankets and comforters, with only my face showing, I would smile at everyone, beatifically, and that got them really worried. Instead of showing a pained expression, my smile was almost calm and well-composed. It’s as if I’ve learned to come to terms with my condition, and I’ve resigned myself to whatever fate I am destined to meet. They kept asking me if I want to be brought to the nearby hospital where my sister was working. I kept saying “no” and they couldn’t do anything about it. They felt helpless. And they kept praying for me to get well.

My mother immediately made an appointment with a dermatologist. I felt really embarrassed with my first visit to the new doctor. I couldn’t walk straight and I was all covered up. And I felt scared. I never liked the idea of consulting with a medical professional, and I avoid it as much as I can. But this time, it was unavoidable. What can I say? I’m just glad that my new doctor, was very kind and understanding. The first time I met her and when she saw my condition, she gave me a kind smile and said with a hint of compassion: “You’re really messed up, huh?” The session was quick, and she prescribed some medication, a routine to clean up, including a twice-a-week self-injection with a new drug. Now, you have to understand, I’m scared of needles. The nurse at the clinic taught me how to give myself an injection. I thought I was going to pass out, but luckily, I didn’t.

Little by little, and after two more visits, my condition gradually improved. My constant fever went away, and the new bath routine, the procedure that covered my entire body with sticky ointment, and the self-injection eventually alleviated my condition. While the redness and skin rashes didn’t completely go away, it was now manageable, and I can easily hide them with my clothes. The “normal” color on my face came back, and I started moving about with ease and comfort. I started going out again, and nobody seems to notice anything unusual. I was back to my old self.

I know I’m doing well because, all around the house, we no longer have to constantly sweep the floors and vacuum the carpet as much as we used to. The flaking of my skin was subsiding, and I wasn’t making as much mess as I used to. While I still have to allocate two hours a day to go through my personal routine: lubricating up my entire body with the thick sticky ointment after every ritualistic bath, I felt I was going back on track, regaining my old self, and moving up and about. My motivation to do the stuff I wanted to do was returning, and I started keeping myself busy all over again, forgetting the fact that my sister, at one time, not too long ago, told me, that I almost died.

If not for my skin condition, and my physical condition in particular, I would have already taken my next trip, to New York City. But because of my medical problems, I had to push back whatever my plans and dreams I may have, and concentrate on getting well. I just had to first work on improving my physical condition before I can go and do anything else.

When I was in Manila, I was managing my skin condition with a medication prescribed by my previous doctor. It was working for me, and I managed to somehow go about my business in the best way that I can. But when I moved to the US, I got “messed” up real good. The ointment that I used to use when I was in Manila wasn’t available in the US, and, the change in environmental condition, the change in weather, and the change in everything, which lead to so much stress, led to the breakdown of my physical condition.

Of course, I couldn’t believe that something like this would happen to me, but it did. And, I survived it. Barely. Because as my sister said, I almost died.

The skin condition that I have, which led to my near-death experience, is medically known as psoriasis. It is caused by overactive production of cells. Not a single doctor I’ve been to, and not a single medical brochure or literature, and not a single research, has told me what is the real root cause of psoriasis, and what is the definitive cure, for this disease. 

I probably have had this disease my entire life, but it started manifesting only some 20 years ago. That was about the time when I started my career as a professional photographer. Somehow, it started to manifest at the time when I started using a particular hair gel product made by a popular fashion brand. As I was using it, I started developing dandruff, and from there, it started spreading all over my body, beginning with my back, then the arms and down to my legs. I can’t understand why it didn’t affect certain parts of my body. It just didn’t.

At first I was alarmed, but eventually, I just shrugged it off and learned to live with it. The first doctor I consulted diagnosed my skin ailment as psoriasis. From then on, and since I’ve been told there is no definitive cure, all I can just actually do is to “manage” it.

I’ve been through several doctors. In turn, and other than the progressively expensive medications each would prescribe, I was alternately told to try out relaxation techniques by meditation, learn and engage in the practice of yoga, immerse myself in the old Chinese tradition of tai-chi, and, enlist and call upon God’s help in prayer. In totality, what the doctors was telling me was: to just “take it easy.”

For someone who has a type A personality, this isn’t an easy thing. No matter how much or how hard I try, I’m always still trying to be on top of things with whatever it is I may happen to be doing, most specially when it comes to my work, profession, and obsession, which is photography. I would constantly remind myself that I will eventually kill myself if I keep up with a frenetic lifestyle and punishing work schedule, but, I only increasingly took on more jobs and more responsibility.

Looking back, I never really paid much attention to my skin condition. While it was bothersome, and it hindered me from engaging in some activities I would have loved to do, I tried my best not to mind it. In most cases, I’ve succeeded because I never actually think about it, that is, unless it feels itchy and it becomes bothersome. But other than that, I normally “forget” it’s there. It just wasn’t really a factor.

My skin condition would worsen and flare up about twice or so a year, and I would just try to work my way around it. Through the years, I’ve learned as much as I can, and I tried to just be even-minded about it, living with it, finding creative ways to make sure that it doesn’t get in the way of the things that I have to do.

Of course, I constantly envied how other people can have such great skin all over their bodies, and I certainly wished I were or I have the same. But these were fleeting emotions and fleeting thoughts. Unless, of course, I am in a situation that makes we wish for it really hard. But then, like cigarette addiction, the desire goes away somehow.

For example, I was in Boracay twice the past two years. I’ve always wanted to go to Boracay but I tried not to go there, avoided going there, or to any beach for that matter, because it is one sure way to make my skin condition obvious. During my two trips to Boracay, I had to do a photo shoot project for a male modeling competition. I would have wanted to just go around topless, with nothing on but a dramatically shaded sunglasses and scandalously skimpy shorts, but I just couldn’t. While everyone was in one state of undress or the other, I was trying to stay and look cool while still all ridiculously dressed up with nothing but my hands and my head showing. Believe me, I even tried not to sweat too much while stupidly bundled up in a hot, tropical beach.

I tried not to think what others might be thinking or saying. I just kept consoling myself that having this condition was God’s way of preventing me from getting into so much more trouble than I already am in. Of course, I couldn’t swim, and the only really sensible thing for me to do was to go out at night when it was cool, and stay indoors during daytime when the heat was overpowering. Anyway, I managed to survive Boracay, but, I’m sure I could have done better. Being all covered up isn’t exactly the most elegant way to be in a tropical island where everyone is barely covered. How I envied those who have good skin!

In most of my photo shoots, mostly in the studio, but also on location, my “costume” would be the usual jeans, shoes, belt. I also wear long-sleeves almost all of the time. I can’t wear shorts, or t-shirt, the way I’ve seen some photographers do, during their pictorials. Because I wear long-sleeves all the time, I imagine that, to others, I look somehow formal and maybe a bit dignified. Although, they would realize that being dignified is just an illusion once I start moving about and talking loudly!

My ensemble is quite simple. If you see me, there’s nothing ordinary or fancy about what I’m wearing or about the way I dress up. Although I photograph fashion a lot, and because of my work, I’m one of the few who gets to peek into what the latest fashion trend is going to be even before it hits the street, my manner of dressing is so simple and ordinary, and you can even say, somewhat outdated. To the dismay of my fashionista friends, I’m about four to six seasons late from the latest. I tend to shun away from the trendy stuff. I’m not so conscious about buying and wearing the latest fashion. And in general, I don’t really shop for clothes or fashion items. When shopping, I’m more interested in checking out whatever latest gadget, computer and electronic stuff that’s out there.

Often, it is my partner who ends up shopping for me. Or, if there are interesting stuff I happen to be photographing in the studio for a fashion catalog, that’s when I shop, “buying” it direct from the manufacturer or client right after the pictorial. But really, unless I’m photographing it, and although I’m very aware of what’s going on, personally, fashion is not my thing. Important I know it is, as an industry and as a way of making an impeccable impression. But as Donald Trump somewhat enviously said in one funny Macy’s ad that features Mariah Carey and Martha Stwart, “How so very shallow.”

And yet, despite all my seeming disdain for fashion and the culture of appropriate, proper and cutting-edge self-presentation, it takes me more than two full hours to get ready every single time! From the moment I step into the bath to the moment I’m all decently dressed, I would have spent more than 120 minutes. It’s a wasteful extravagance! And no matter how much I try to consciously speed things up, I always somehow end up spending more time. Because of this, I just stopped trying. I learned there’s no sense in getting all worked up over this. And the crazy thing is, despite the fact that I spend so much time, probably even more time than Tessa Prieto-Valdez spends in getting ready, I still end up looking quite plain and ordinary. The hours it takes me to get ready just doesn’t add up. Though decent, my looks won’t even gain the second look of most. And certainly, I never receive any compliment for how well I dress or how nice my clothes look like, or how well they look good in me. I don’t experience such things. One time, I asked my good friend and fashion maven, Joey Espino, for suggestions on how I should dress up. I was so excited with the idea of “putting together” a new look. I spent lots of time researching fashion magazines and all. But, it has come to naught. There was even this other time when I decided my look should all be “linen” and I got myself a whole wardrobe of nice linen shirts, but, it was something that I grew tired with very quickly, and not to mention, that it was so “itchy”--not a good idea for someone like me who’s having skin problems.

If I meet you, and if we are locked in the mortal combat of a getting-to-know-you mode of conversation, you might be surprised if I suddenly ask you how long does it take for you to get ready. You might find the question offensive or funny, since it’s actually a personal thing, but please do not take offense because I don’t mean anything by it. I only want to know, and to compare, whether the length of time it takes me to get ready, is the same as yours or most everyone else. I just want to know what is the normal, standard time it takes for most people to get ready. Oh, by the way, because I kept asking, I discovered that for the majority, it’s about 45 minutes. So that’s when I discovered, not surprisingly, that I’m one of the very few who takes a very, very long time to get ready.

Why do I take so long? Well, when taking a bath or when taking a shower, I have to carefully rub myself all over, from head to foot, and I have to do it twice or thrice -- from soaping to rinsing to drying. And then, once I step out of the shower, I have to rub myself all over again with a sticky ointment to prevent my skin from drying. It’s a tedious process, and believe me, I always wish there was a faster and easier way. I get really bored by the whole process. I learned to listen to my laptop’s podcasts the moment I step out of the shower to prep myself up before dressing up. This way, I am able to do something “productive” while getting ready. At least, I am able to make better use out of the “getting-ready” time that I have to unavoidably spend every day. If I have my way, I’ll put a water-proof speaker system in my bathroom! I would love to totally eliminate wasted time!

So, that’s the reason why I’m almost always late for my pictorials and appointments. Not because I’m trying to create an impression that I’m a VIP by keeping everyone waiting, but with my condition, which don’t necessarily have to explain to everyone, I really just can’t help it. It takes me a really inordinate amount of time just to get ready every day. I am amazed and I envy those who can get ready in 15 minutes or less. That’s a time-saver! The truth is, I get really excited with all of my pictorials. I look forward to it. I don’t know why, but that’s just how I am. Even with the most simple and mundane of shoots, I get really jumpy. I can’t help it. That is my nature. But I can’t also help being late to my shoots most of the time, because of what I have to go through.

Anyway, almost everyone who has seen me will attest to the fact that I am easily excitable. I love being excited and exciting. And, other than being with my son and my partner, I am happiest and excited when I am shooting. And so, I often forget that I have this terrible skin condition, and I go about the pictorial without thinking about it. Good thing that my photo shoot assistants are constantly aware and alert, because every now and then, part of their job description is to always make sure that I am decently covered while I lay on the floor, hanging on a ledge or on top of a ladder. Whatever position I’m in, on top or at the bottom, they have to make sure that my “slip isn’t showing.” Part of the job of my assistants is watch out for me and keep me decently covered all along.

Still, my assistants can only do so much. While they try to do their best, they cannot forever keep me protected from uncommon eventualities. One time, after completing a particularly difficult but successful and beautiful image layout, the celebrity I was shooting came up to me excitedly,  and started pulling my shirt up and down, exposing my stomach and lower back. I was surprised at what she did that I couldn’t move, and when she saw the red spots in my skin, she eventually stopped what she was doing and let go of my shirt. Good thing that no one was really looking at us, but I felt bad for her because she was embarrassed not so much with what she saw but with what she did to me. I knew she wanted to apologize, but maybe, out of shock as well, she just didn’t know what to do at that time or how to handle the situation.

Other than the surprise with the turn of events, I felt slightly embarrassed at being unexpectedly exposed like that, and I actually felt somewhat angry and frustrated at what she did. But, as I thought about it, I couldn’t put the blame on her, no matter how much I would want to. For one thing, she didn’t know. And another thing, she was just really excited at what we were able to achieve. I just took a deep breath and let it go. This female celebrity is actually very vocal. She’s always in the news over some controversy or an issue. I’ve always wondered if she’s ever going to talk about what she did to me? I guess not. I’m sure it’s something that the public won’t find interesting at all. And so far, she hasn’t. Which is just a good thing. Not that I’m trying to “hide” things, I just don’t see any sense in making this thing public. I’m far from being a “public figure,” and I don’t necessarily quality as a “poster boy” to give a face to the kind of skin condition that I and million of others are experiencing.

The past 15 or so years, and as a professional photographer, I’ve had the most amazing experience and opportunity of photographing almost all of the famous personalities in the Philippines. From entertainment personalities to fashion models and from politicians to socialites, my digital archive is a repository of who’s who in the country. Almost anyone and everyone who’s got a a name for himself or herself, who may, at one time or another, become popular, most likely has an image file in my archive.

I can say that perhaps, there are only two or three other photographers in the Philippines who can claim such a distinction for now. Make that five tops. If you think how many photographers there are today, and putting things in proper perspective, it becomes quite a bit of something. And although the idea tickles me no end, I am surprised that it is something that I actually do not refer to as a point of pride. It’s just a matter of fact. Before I even realized it, and except for Sharon Cuneta and those who are still inside Kuya’s house, I’ve already somehow photographed almost everyone who’s been kissed by fame.

Most of them are beautiful. Absolutely, stunningly beautiful. They have the most beautiful faces. They have the most perfect of bodies. They have the most flawless of skins. I am at awe with their beauty. Every single day, when I get to work, and as I raise my camera to my eyes, I am feted with beauty. My work, my life, has always been about beauty. I can say that I have one of the most interesting jobs. Imagine, all I have to do is to capture and forever preserve that beauty. It’s an amazing job, and I can’t imagine doing anything else.

Last year, before I left for the US, I mounted my 50th photo exhibit. It was was a solo show held at the Vargas Museum of the University of the Philippines. What an amazing event it has been for me. I was told that it has been one of the most attended photo exhibits in the museum. In a single show, I managed to put together the awe-inspiring and definitive portraits of 50 of the most beautiful women in Philippine show business whom I’ve photographed through the years.

One morning, just before the museum door opens, and as I was walking through the exhibit hall where the almost life-size images of the beautiful women were mounted, I felt my cheeks getting wet. I didn’t realize I was crying. It wasn’t obvious at first why, but, I was crying for their endless beauty. And I was crying for the irony of it all. For the first time in more than 15 years since I turned pro, and since I started photographing the most beautiful people, did I feel the heavy oppression of the irony of it all.

Here I am, photographing and preserving beauty, and yet, I myself do not possess such beauty. My skin continues to be ravaged by overactive cells constantly threatening to kill me if I do not properly manage it. I have to live with the fact, and die with the fact that, despite the beauty of all others that I preserve and create, it is something that I cannot do for myself. This is one fact that I have to live with all my life. It is a fact that I will have to die over. Ultimately, it is the over-arching story of my life and my work as a photographer. It is the heavy-handed and oppressive irony of a deceptive beauty.

Odd as that sounds, it's part of an original approach to understanding consumer behavior.  I'm working through a fascinating experience called Camp Organic as both observer and participant in the surreal surroundings of Las Vegas.  Exceptional experiences are grounded in understanding the decision-making process and psychological baggage each of us has acquired through our lifetime.  Camp Organic is a a three-day ethnographic exercise to help people truly understand and experience customer empathy firsthand.  Will post more on the process and debrief after I've completed them later on today.

“Keep smiling… It increases your face value, and is free of cost.”

“Beware… Smiling is contagious.”

It’s all true. A smiling face always looks prettier, it costs nothing and it spreads from person to person.

There are so many emotions depicted by a smile and so many different ways to interpret it, and so many different reactions that it triggers. A smile on the face of a sleeping child gives the mother an inexpressible joy of contentment. A smile on the face of someone you care for, naturally puts you on a new high.

There are so many things a smile can convey. A smile of pride and victory on the face of someone who’s just won a race. A grin to show you’ve been up to mischief. A smile of support and sympathy to someone in trouble, where words can’t say that, “I AM THERE!”

There is a smile which I know of. A smile used to cover up the sorrow and tears. A smile of faith and strength when things are not going right. You smile even though there are tears welling up in your eyes. A smile that says, “I know things are not right, I know things could have been better, but I’m not complaining!” its one of the purest expressions you see, which fills your heart with admiration for the person standing in front of you.

When we arrived, I just changed my top, cleaned my face and went out to see a friend [Nelmar] I haven't seen for, I believe, more than six years. He is a high school friend, and we majored in the same course in college. I moved to Pampanga a year after. We ate dinner and talk, which for me is one of the best conversations I have ever had with someone [though we just talk about the things we talk about when we're chatting online]. We'll go out again on Saturday. Mall hopping is what we'll do. I'm pretty much excited about it.

I arrived in the apartment around 12 am, stayed awake for two and a half hours, and headed to the airport with mom. I took a cab going back because I don't know the way back. Shame. While in the taxi, I just thought that I "might" want to become a taxi driver. Maybe it's because of watching too much of Scorsese's Taxi Driver. But I love the thought of it. I slept right away by the time I arrived at the apartment. It surely was a tiring day.

Then I woke up this morning realizing how great my day was yesterday. It actually felt weird. Weird but nice. Very nice.

File yang di edit cuma file php.ini nya saja.. option upload_size saya gedein jadi 10MB, trus post_max_size jadi 20MB, memory_limit jadi 30MB. trus restart apache, tapi masih server replied error.. kayanya server kelamaan ngerespon deh.. ada yang tau harus setting dimana lagi ? oh iya, saya pake squirellmail 1.4 running on fc 5.

Saya memang sangat tabik spring kepada kawan2 saya yang sanggup jadi cikgu. Sebabnya saya memang tak sanggup. Saya ni tak tahan sabar, garang (aka cengil) dan tak pandai mengajar. Memang fail! Dulu, pernah sekali mak suruh saya ajar adik saya mengaji Al-Quran, dia tak boleh nak ikut apa yang saya ajar, saya marah dia. Dan dia serik dah nak mengaji ngan saya. Kesian hang Syul oi.

Sebelum2 ni, kalau kawan2 saya sibuk apply KPLI, saya buat derk je. Sedikit perasaan minat pun takde. Lepas habis matrik dulu, arwah ayah ada suggest jadi cikgu sandaran, saya tolak mentah2 saranan itu. Saya cakap saya tak nak ajar budak skolah. Lepas tu dia dah tak ungkit hal mengajar...tapi dia still harap saya akan mengajar jugak (erti kata lain jadi lecturer la). Insya Allah kalau ada rezeki :)

Pengaruh cikgu, pada saya, amat besar. Dan dengan pengaruh cikgu2 juga saya menjadi seperti sekarang (patut lebih baik lagi..huhu). Tambah lagi sekarang ni tanggungjawab cikgu memang berat. Mau stres hari2! Hehe.

Untuk kawan2 saya yang jadi cikgu...all the best ya!

Kepada cikgu2 saya:

Skolah rendah: Cikgu Azmar Yahaya (yang lain2 saya tak ingat! Hampeh betul)

Skolah menengah: Cikgu Nadzir, Cikgu Afidah, Cikgu Noriati, Cikgu Noor Bebe, Cikgu Hanita, Mr Teo Boon Kok

Matrikulasi: Cikgu Noraini Omar, Cikgu Noraini Ahmad, Cikgu Siti Sara, Cikgu Hamid, Cikgu Zolbidah, Ms Rodina, Mr Azlan

SELAMAT HARI GURU!

Le problème, c'est que malgré toute l'estime qu'elle démontre pour l'ancien Lider Maximo, en faisant état de sa clairvoyance, il faut mentionner que l'ami Fidel n'a pas pensé à cela dans un éclair de génie, pas plus que Bush n'a lui-même pondu l'idée de subventionner la production d'éthanol de maïs. Ici, aussi tôt que le 22 juin 2006, Nathalie Elgrably, entre autres chroniqueuse au Journal de Montréal, disait déjà que l'utilisation du maïs pour faire de l'éthanol, au lieu d'en faire des aliments, représentait une solution douteuse. Mais elle non plus, comme Fidel Castro, on ne l'a pas écoutée.

Par contre, madame Roy écrit que "Pour une des rares fois, les organismes environnementaux ont admis avoir fait une erreur." J'aimerais bien qu'elle donne des noms! Elle est sûrement plus au fait de l'actualité que je ne le suis, mais je n'ai ni lu, ni entendu une nouvelle disant que quelque organisme que ce soit, et encore moins les Al Gore et David Suzuki de ce monde, n'aient avoué quoi que ce soit. Au contraire! On s'est dépéché à remplacer, à l'éthanol de maïs, l'étiquette "biocarburant" par une autre, "agrocarburant", question de culpabiliser un peu plus les agriculteurs, et à réserver désormais l'étiquette "bio" pour d'autres plantes, comme le panic érigé, ou encore d'autres végétaux, comme les résidus de coupe de bois. Ils ont ensuite vilipendé les gouvernements qui ont osé suivre la direction dans laquelle les environnementalistes eux-mêmes ont pointé! Et comme il a fallu beaucoup de temps aux gouvernements à se mettre en marche, il faudra donc s'attendre à ce qu'ils mettent plusieurs années à réaliser la bourde qu'ils ont commis, et à faire marche arrière.

Virginie Roy traite ensuite de l'autre erreur de l'ancien Lider Maximo, celle des ampoules fluorescentes. Car s'il est vrai qu'elles consomment moins d'énergie, ces ampoules nous pénalisent de deux façons; d'abord, elles contiennent du mercure, ce qui les classe comme des déchets dangereux, sans compter qu'elles requièrent d'énormes précautions si l'on a le malheur d'en briser une, et ensuite, l'économie d'énergie réalisée par le fait qu'elles développent moins de chaleur que les ampoules incandescentes sera consommée en chauffage supplémentaire, en hiver, puisque la chaleur développée par les ampoules incandescentes permettaient de réduire l'effort du système de chauffage, ce qui se traduira par davantage de pollution, et de gaz à effet de serre, dans le cas d'un chauffage au gaz, ou au mazout.

Madame Roy souhaite ardemment la naissance d'un prochain Einstein qui viendra sauver notre planète. Pour le bénéfice de son information, ce prochain génie est probablement déjà dans un laboratoire, en train de réaliser des expériences, en collaboration avec d'autres génies. Et qu'est-ce qui leur permettra d'avancer plus rapidement dans leurs recherches? Vous l'avez deviné; la hausse continuelle du prix du pétrole! Si le prix de l'or noir continue d'augmenter, les pressions se feront plus fortes - et les budgets plus volumineux - sur les chercheurs, afin qu'ils trouvent des solutions de remplacement, qui nous permettront de réduire notre dépendance au pétrole. À terme, le pétrole deviendra une source d'énergie marginale, comme l'est devenu le charbon, il y a des décennies.

Bref, je dois me rendre à l'évidence; Virginie Roy avance dans la bonne direction, et plus vite que je ne le croyais possible. Tant mieux pour elle,... et pour nous!

I lived downtown, two blocks from the abandoned Union Station in a rented condo. When I moved from the condo in 1997 it was on the market for $16,000.

For nearly a decade the city struggled with the idea of light-rail. Meeting after meeting, public outcry against the project claimed that people in the “west” would never give up their cars. Nay-sayers didn’t want to fund transportation for the “poor”. Having won the 2002 Winter Olympic bid, UTA (Utah Transit Authority) sought FTA (Federal Transit Administration) funds to build the first light-rail line - a 15 mile line that stretched from downtown Salt Lake to the southern suburb of Sandy. By the end of 1999, the two-year construction project was complete.

Less than three years later, a second line was built that traveled between downtown and the University of Utah. The former Union Station became the downtown terminus, and by 2002, it was the center of a new downtown development known as the Gateway. With 105 shops, a new planetarium, apartments and condos, it anchored a new downtown but led to the further demise of the existing shopping malls just three blocks away.

It was decided to raze what was left of the two shopping malls, as well as a 12-story office tower and recreate a 20 acre mixed-use development spanning three city blocks. The central feature of the new downtown center named City Creek Center, is in fact, a re-exposed City Creek which for decades had been routed under the city. The project will be complete by 2012 and will comprise retail, office and residential space anchored by Nordstrom, Macy’s and as a grocery store.

The light-rail lines which were said to be a waste of money now carry over 43,000 passengers weekly. To further reduce congestion, a heavy-rail line line running 38 miles through the northern suburbs and connecting Ogden opened this year.

The 600 square foot condo I rented, equidistant to both of these projects and two blocks from the rail line is now valued at $91,400.

One could argue that a piece of paper does not a librarian make. I don't mean that a degree lacks value but maybe it should have a statue of limitations. Does a degree from 5, 10, 15 or even 20 years ago still have the same value today? Has our industry not grown and changed by leaps in bounds lately? How could something you learned 20 years ago in college even begin to apply to today's library? Doesn't real life experience on the job teach you so much more than any class room?

Keep in mind that I am a trainer. I love to teach. I love seeing someone have an "ah-ha!" moment. I am a life long learner myself. I firmly believe the day I stop learning from life, work, people, the universe is the day I die. I'm not trying to devalue any educator anywhere. I'm not saying that college or any kind of formal training doesn't have it's place but I'd just like to see real life experience get the same level of respect.

If real life experience of 25 years in customer service/circulation services, in Interlibrary Loan, in Automation and now with Information Technology counts for anything....maybe Greg is right, I am a Librarian.

For that reason I'm a big believer in identifying moments of truth and ensuring they create the right impression.  I think 'moments of truth' was coined with respect to customer service, but really any interaction between a customer and your company is a moment of truth which directly impacts their perception of you - and hence builds their brand image of you.

But one thing I am forever grateful to my parents for, is that they were always completely honest with me when I asked those questions. And that they never said, 'when you're older' or used metaphors with birds and bees, automatically assuming I was too young to understand or wanting to avoid the obvious embarrassment of answering the question. Because they started answering my questions and discussing sex early, there was no momentous and embarrassing 'Sex Talk', just the occasional question here and there. I should also give the credit that is due to books and high school biology, because my parents didn't know a lot of the science of it. Thank you biology for teaching me the technicalities of the menstrual cycle, the luteal phase is always my fav.

My sister has always been my polar opposite in that she is a very conservative individual and doesn't talk glibly about sex. We're close, so it was not surprising that she came to me with all the sex questions. And obviously wanting to out do my parents, I'd always given her every smidgen of information I knew, and made her take everything very seriously. Enough so that she often told me she wished that she had never asked (like that time she asked what a cervix was). So lo and behold when about two weeks ago she tells me her friend who is clueless when it comes to sex. So she is constantly asking awkward sex questions because her parents refuse to tell her anything (at the age of 15 years old, WHAT?). So when my sister turned to her friend and asked why she kept asking her these questions, her friend responded that it was because my sister knew everything about sex. Ignoring my laughter, my sister said she was glad she'd asked me all of those questions when she was smaller, and that I'd answered so completely. I could have popped with happiness about then, I was just so proud to know I did right by her.

Now, I don't often criticize people's parenting (excusing my own parents, but I'm sure karma will deal with me), because I am not a parent. And I don't want to be another one of those childless jackasses devaluing a very difficult job. But I really have a problem when parents aren't open or refuse to talk to their kids about sex. Sometimes it's denial, painful embarrassment, a fear of warping their kids, personal beliefs or what have you. But in doing this they aren't doing their children a service, especially, especially if they are little girls. Because girls have the potential to suffer most from mistakes involving sex physically, socially, etc. And for everyone, there are so many STI's, including AIDS. I swear it's a crying shame how little some of these 12 - 16 year olds actually know about sex, yet they're still doing it. I once came across one of those forum based websites for asking random questions and there was just a reel of posts from teen girls asking, 'I had sex with my boyfriend, am I pregnant???'

My parent's mantra, one I have adopted is, 'Stop squirming! It's better I tell you this rather than some dumbass kid who has no idea what they're talking about.' It is a solid reality that if kids have questions and their parents don't answer it, they're going to go to their friends, who may or may not know the correct answer. From my experience, the answers aren't often correct. Like that time in grade four when my male teacher was fidgeting with his shirt tails and my friend randomly informed me that he was masturbating. Same friend who told me a condominium was something a man put on his penis before sex. We were eight.

Kids are all cute and innocent, yes, but they are very, very aware of sex which is why parents should be all over it when they first start asking. Not giving kids information on sex does not translate into them not having sex. It translates into kids making stupid decisions when put in certain situations. Parents need to give their children all of the information, even if they don't seem interested in it at the time or they wrinkle their nose and say things like, 'gross'. Speaking as someone with that experience, they will remember. And if parents have regular conversations about sex early, kids are more likely to be honest (not completely honest maybe, but some honesty will be involved) about their sexual activities later because they are aware that their parents will not duck and cover or yell at them if they know. So I encourage everyone, please, just talk about sex.

Senator Obama does not have the knowledge, the experience, the background to make the kind of judgments that are necessary to preserve this nation's security.

The comment comes immediately after President Bush attacked Obama for wanting to "negotiate with terrorists".

Quotaion by Aldous Huxley.

Hier kunnen wij dus naar blijven kijken. Geweldig hoe straatkunstenaar Blu de Argentijnse straat combineert met stopmotion film. Topper!!!

We can think of the world in this way:

1. There are extentional parts which compose extentional relations which are available as property-descriptions under a physicalist function/structure domain.

2. There are intensional states which are composed by intensional relations (the relationship in communication intrinsic to any body as a system), as an intrinsic relation produces a quality, sensation or experience, of such parts being together.

Extensional Parts = Physicalist description

Intensional States = Phenomenal description (Paschonta)

Intensional relations which made up many essentialist descriptions are nothing more than the triangulating capacities of a body to projectively report upon conditions of the shared world such that it is causally related to it, and these relations resulting in qualities and experiences make little sense outside of this triangulation since they provide the connective tissue between ourselves and the world and others.

To speak of paschonta, things suffered or experienced (instead of phenomena, things being made to appear) is to read the world both causally and bodily. We regularly read the paschonta of others, (and the paschonta of ourselves).

Build a table using directions, measurements, exemplar and you have followed extensional paths. While building the table listen to the report of wood as you strike it, the feel of the joints as they are joined, and you have followed paschonta, the intensional path. The two paths are braided.

The problem with phenomenal descriptions, and why they should be replaced by paschontal descriptions, is that they encourage a representational view of the world, one in which the "picture" of something is imagined to match up with the real thing on occasions of true sentences. Paschonta, rather, are the experiences themselves, as we imagine others to experience them (or our own experiences as we take a reflexive view upon them), such that our relations to others and the world we share makes sense.

Dualists mistake paschonta for things in-themselves (imagining a kind of extensional intensionality), rather than for relations between perceptile bodies, the felt of report.

  จากเรื่องนี้ทำให้เราคิดว่าปริญญาโท ไม่ได้ช่วยให้คนเราประสบความสำเร็จเสมอไปค่ะ ประสบการณ์นั้นสำคัญกว่ามากค่ะ  แต่เราเองก็ไม่ปฏิเสธนะคะว่าจบโทมาไม่ดี มันขึ้นอยู่กับว่าคุณได้อะไรบ้าง จากการเรียนปริญญาโทนั้นๆค่ะ  เพื่อนๆคงจะเคยได้ยินคนแนะนำว่าเราควรจะทำงานก่อนที่จะเรียนต่อโท เราเห็นด้วยกับคำพูดนี้เป็นอย่างมากค่ะ เพราะหลายคนไม่เคยสัมผัสชีวิตการทำงาน  ไม่เคยทำงานร่วมกับคนอื่น ซึ่งมาพื้นฐานแตกต่างกับเราอย่างสิ้นเชิง ไม่รู้ว่าต้องพูด หรือทำตัวอย่างไร นี่เป็นปัญหาที่สำคัญมากค่ะ  บางคนจบโทมา มีความรู้มากมาย แต่กลับไม่มีคนจ้าง  ไม่สามารถทำงานร่วมกับคนอื่นได้ หรือโดนเอารัดเอาเปรียบมากมายจากเพื่อนร่วมงาน นั้นเป็นเพราะอะไรกันคะ ชีวิตในที่ทำงานมันแตกต่างกับมหาลัยอย่างมากค่ะ ความรู้ที่เราเรียนมาบางครั้งไม่สามารถนำมาใช้ได้ในการทำงานจริง ยังมีหลายสิ่งหลายอย่างที่คุณต้องเรียนรู้ใหม่  และต้องเรียนรู้วิธีการทำงาน หรือร่วมงานกับคนบางประเภท เรียนรู้การใช้ชีวิตนั่นเองค่ะ

   เราไม่ได้ยับยั้งให้เพื่อนๆเรียนต่อโทนะคะ แค่อยากจะแชร์ประสบการณ์ตรงที่ได้รู้มาเท่านั้นเองค่ะ การเรียนต่อปริญญาโท คือการค้นหาคำตอบที่คุณสงสัย หรือเรียนรู้วิธีการที่จะทำให้คุณไปสุ่เป้าหมายได้สำเร็จค่ะ อย่าเรียนโทเพียงเพราะคุณไม่รุ้ว่าจะทำอะไร หรือเพราะยังไม่อยากทำงาน  คิดให้ดีๆค่ะ และชีวิตของคุณจะประสบความสำเร็จ

   ขอเล่าอีกนึดนะคะ ว่าการมีบริษัทเป็นของตัวเอง หรือการเป็นเจ้านายคน ไม่ใช่สิ่งหรูหรา ดูดี สบาย เลยแม้แต่น้อย จากตัวอย่างที่เราเห็นมาทุกวันนี้ หากคุณคิดจะมีบริษัทเป็นของตัวเอง คุณต้องทำงานหนักกว่าลูกน้องสองเท่า คุณมีเวลานอนน้อยกว่า 6 ชม.ต่อวัน คุณต้องเดินทางไปติดต่อบ่อยมาก (เมื่อก่อนเคยคิดว่าทำงานที่ได้เดินทางบ่อยๆนั้นสนุก ตอนนี้ไม่คิดอย่างนั้นแล้วค่ะ จากประสบการณ์การติดตามไปกะโฮส) คุณแบกภาระเสี่ยงกับธุรกิจของคุณ สารพัดปัญหาค่ะ คุณจะมีริ้วรอยก่อนวัยอันควร เพราะคุณต้องกังวลกับเรื่องงานเกือบจะตลอดเวลา 555  เป็นงัยคะ เพื่อนๆยังอยากมีบริษัทเป็นของตัวเองกันอยู่รึเปล่าคะ

Great Society- Take Me To A Circus Tent

Quality Rock & Roll Airplane style.

The Rock Vault is open:

Hello from Airplane Control. How are you? It is possible in the 1.5 year musical journey that you may enjoy the flight as much as any previous one if you are a Beatles fan.

George Harrison gave this demo to a good friend. The friend in turn took to success on the singles chart, Album and Classic Rock Airplay and a place in the time capsule. It doesn't get much better than this.

But first a message from our sponsor. Only kidding. We begin with Paul, Marty, and Jack looking for a Volunteer!

We now shift over to KBC Land:

Volunteers

At the Santa Clara County Fair

but drummer Darrell Verdusco is not there! To the rescue is Barry Lowenthal (Tasmanian Devils/Steel Breeze).

Circa September 10-13^th of 1985.

From the Fab 4 it’s Beatles From The Vaults #63

George Harrison

It Don't Come Easy (His demo for Mr. Ringo Starr)

Hope the weekend is full of rock and roll. Be well.

JEFFERSON AIRPLANE- JEFFERSON STARSHIP- Great Society-

Take Me To A Circus Tent

May the music be magic!

I look forward to hearing you later!

The book is Take Me To A Circus Tent (The Jefferson Airplane Flight Manual) W/93 photos, 32 interviews, 543 pages, and a myriad of 5 star reviews!

Please remember at any moment on an Aircast it can be a rare memory from the Jefferson Airplane, Jefferson Starship, KBC, Wooden Ships, Marty Balin, Paul Kantner to name several. Maybe another picture previously unseen from the Rock Tent Vault sees daylight from Herb Greene.

May the sounds and the day always be first class and

beyond!

http://www.takemetoacircustent.net/media/JeffersonAirplaneTakeMeToACircusTentAircast63itdontcomeeasyfindingvolunteerstofindthisone.mp3

All the best,

CF

Aquí les dejo señoras y señores las nuevas imágenes que hemos podido conseguir de LAS GUERRAS CLON, incluido este cartel del principio, (que perdonen por la calidad), es el cartel de STAR WARS WEEKENDS, que durante los Star Wars Weekends de Disney de este año (desde Junio 6 a Junio 29 cada fin de semana), se estará haciendo una presentación especial por parte de un representante de LFL llamado “Behind the Force — Experience The Clone Wars” donde se aundará en el proceso creativo detrás de cámaras y al final habrá la exhibición de un clip exclusivo sobre The Clone Wars, y además por si fuera poco cada fin de semana promete una sorpresa diferente!

. Debemos dar las gracias a nuestro equipo por llevar adelante esta página y sacar imágenes y exclusivas que francamente son impresionantes, como las que ustedes pueden ver abajo de un Cody en su máximo apogeo y un Rex ansioso por entrar en batalla.

Nombrarles también un detalle, un nuevo clon ha sido confirmado, su nombre es Hevy, y aparece en el video de Star Wars Ben (making of), en un storyboard.
TRAILER CLONE WARS EN ESPAÑOL: