That Grand Unification Energy

After like ten billion infinite years or something I’ve finally decided to reenter the putrid cesspit of fail otherwise known as my Facebook account. Sometimes I wonder why I even let Utkarsh create said account in the first place. Apparently I do not experience the same release of endorphins from stalking ‘friends’ with my real name attached to my virtual presence or joining a fuckload of groups with painfully lame titles as most other people I know do. Maybe that’s why my account has inevitably degraded into a rotting pile of whatever the fuck Facebook is made of. Put it another way, I cannot find a function for Facebook. At all. Any socializing that can be done on Facebook can be done IRL, and I’m not even a big fan of socializing myself. And any entertainment derived from Facebook is probably too trivial for me to even appreciate. That said, what the hell is with clicking a button every fifteen minutes that makes everyone I know feel so satisfied with their lives? You guys are inane and ridiculously inadequate at existing. I have no idea how some people even manage to get themselves addicted to periodic manual clickings. What the fuck man. Why is everyone always in a perpetual state of some form of failure? If your primary goal in existing on Facebook is for attention, then sorry to break it to you because Facebook is one of the most attention deficient places on the internet. Despite the unbearable shitload of socializing going on, no one really pays attention to each other. There’s not much of a point in maintaining your profile anyway. No one’s really interested in you or whatever your characteristics are. At most all people will do is shoot trivial comments at each other with regards to completely idiotic things such as updated display pictures and those “What’s on your mind?” messages which only get noticed because they show up on people’s news feed pages which most Facebook people refresh at a frequency of ten hertz or something. Now I will end this paragraph because I can’t be arsed to angst anymore.

Oh look! 110 notifications, 18 friend requests, 1 group invitation, 3 page suggestions and 5 other requests! zomg!

I have 110 notifications on the posting of things on my wall, my forgetting to play 15 different online games, my lack of realising the existence of 20 new games which I’ve never heard of before and an infinitely long list of quizzes which are purported to determine my fate in the unforeseeable future despite the obvious lack of complete knowledge on the current state of the universe by the quizzes’ creators, all assuming scientific determinism to be true, which might not even be the case.

I have 18 friend requests. 2 of which are from people I knew in primary school. Guess what? I can’t be bothered to give a shit about you guys anymore. Stop asking me for my friendship. Go away.

There are 15 other requests from people I’ve heard of before that were not in my primary school. For great justice, in chronological order of request, Jonathan Tan (Tan Rui Rong Jonathan), Tan Fu Nan, Bradford Loh, Guo TaiYu (you can’t even spell your own name right seriously wtf?), Timothy Tan, Ernest Huang Zhixian, Ao Chin Wen, Chung Ka-Shing, Wayne Lin, Naomi Leow, Aaron Yap, Xiong Qian Cheng (Xiong Qiancheng), Yu Quan Poh, Ahmed Saddique and Bernard Lim. Seriously, I’ve never really interacted with most of you guys before and I am not ready to engage in a mutual state of virtual friendship with all of you. Likewise, go away. And eat shit (for knowing that we both hardly know each other and yet insisting on an officially recognized bond of virtual friendship which you are likely to not give a shit about).

There’s one idiot left whose identity I’m not even aware of. This Saladin Ayyubid guy, also go away.

I have also been invited by Stuart Tang to join the now obsolete group by the name of Pan4Pres. Guess what? ‘Pan’ didn’t win the elections. Now go cry your eyes out. And stop pestering me with politics.

I have been asked by people to become a fan of the following pages: NUS High Backgate Turnstile is retarded, hip hop crew and ANEXARTITOI 69 CREW. My responses: no, no and no. First of all, the back gate turnstile isn’t retarded. You are retarded. The functionality of a turnstile is subjected to the people who constructed it. Stop whining you fucks. Learn how to use a turnstile. For the second and third pages, I hate crews because they are social organizations that people associate themselves with and I hate people. Also, very importantly, do note that being a fan of the NUS High Backgate Turnstile being retarded makes no sense at all.

I have a Find Your Guardian invitation. Wtf is this?

3 Mafia Wars requests. I guess Mafia Wars was the precursor to that fucking Mousehunt and whatever restaurant or farm emulation games you faggots play these days. No.

Also, a Mafia Wars gift request:

Here is a Motorcycle to use in Mafia Wars. Can you help me by sending a gift back? Together we can become the top players.

How the fuck is the giving of a motorcycle a request? Unless the sender is requesting for a gift of reciprocation or something. Then no. I do not accept this obligation to reciprocate the act of “gift giving” because I didn’t ask for it and you are too shortsighted to realise that I do not abide by your imaginary standards of virtual friendship. I’m not going to play shit games anyway, let alone bother ascending the leaderboards to claim that top player title.

Antique cells

Guess what. My unannounced hiatus was due to my accumulating of rage so that I may release the whole barrage of it in a single post for overkill’s sake. After this I’m probably going to go on another hiatus to amass more rage so that I can punctuate my new scheme of semi-hiatus blogging pattern with more rants. Now, today the unfortunate subject of my criticism is (suprise surprise) Modern Warfare 2, which sickens me to a whole new level that I have never thought possible before.

Seriously, what the fuck Infinity Ward. You’ve just reduced your franchise into a festering shitpile of crap. Modern Warfare 2 is in every way a monumental testimonial to the characteristic failure of sequels. Sequels tend to suck in general. Usually this is due to the disproportionate allocation of awesome ideas to the prequel so that the sequel lacks said awesomeness when it gets released. Undoubtedly and rightfully, great prequels should be filled to the brim with awesome ideas or else it wouldn’t be in such a state of leet and no one would ask for a sequel to it. So the disappointing reception of most sequels is actually due to the receptors of the sequel asking for it (haha double entendre) rather than the developers of said sequel. But not this time. Infinity Ward managed to fail a sequel in a brand new kind of way that no game developer has ever thought of before. Essentially, the gameplay of Modern Warfare 2 stays as awesome as its prequel but everything else that the gamer is not supposed to give a shit about has been degraded into a state of epic suckage. FFS people acquire this game for a substantial amount of currency. Who the fuck ever thought of making it mandatory for customers to install additional software (i.e. Steam) on top of the game to play the game as part of the EULA? Apparently Infinity Ward thinks that Valve Anti-Cheat that gets installed on all games activated through Steam will solve the pervasive problem that previous incarnations of anti-cheat software have failed to mitigate. Yep. Obviously deterring a minority of hackers is more crucial to the satisfaction of the rest of the playerbase. Not only did Infinity Ward not improve online multiplayer, they made it worse like some fucking monstrosity I don’t know.

Steam makes life inconvenient as hell. With Steam you don’t get to make multiple profiles because Steam is all about the exclusivity of the player and this mantra gets taken quite literally by the Steam people. You can play on only ONE profile. If you fuck this one up, stfu and suck more. There is no regress. If you die 50 times in a match and get 0 kills, these deaths are permanent on your record. You even get an in game accolade for sucking that much. That’s like blatant mockery of the guy who payed you ten trillion infinite dollars for your mocking program. On top of that there’s the reduced recoil on every gun. Ok I know my rant is entering the realm of gameplay but yea, the game does sucks there and there’s nothing I can do or say that will make it not suck there. This is becoming a stupid point and click game. In the past you could evade incoming fire because the recoil makes bullets go everywhere except your character. Now you just point, click and hold your mouse button to see that guy in front of you dead. And the greatest gun in Modern Warfare, the AK-47 just got its recoil cranked up to ungodly proportions because apparently it takes too little skill to use guns from Russia with all its sheer stopping power and whatnot. And then you look at all those recoilless guns and realise you’re playing a match infested with noobs who can’t even handle virtual firearms. Really I’m beginning to think all those American troops that invaded Iraq actually possessed more intellect than the supposed intellectual youths that play these games.

Matchmaking sucks. FYI matchmaking is a multiplayer match hosting technique commonly employed on seventh generation game consoles. It’s where you get onto a master playlist hosted by the developers of the game and the game finds other players with the lowest ping who are also trying to find other players to play with. The game puts you guys into a match and selects the guy with the best connection to host the match. Then you play. This sucks for many reasons, of which the one causing the most annoyance is the part where matchmaking doesn’t involve any actual servers. The hosts change every match. And you don’t play with the same people every match. Sometimes you get shuffled into a match dominated by a clan (and I hate clans) and they do their teamwork thing and vanquish your entire team in the blink of an eye over and over with each respawn. Clans ruin the game for everyone especially when they go about professing their leetness when all they’re doing is just being pricks. I hate it when I get matchmaked into a clan match. And chances are, the whole clan is going to be shuffled into one team because these guys are all in one party (a party is where you invite people you know so that you can play together (stupidly, parties will also ensure that you and your friend never fight against each other because the matchmake will put everyone in the party in the same team)) so the game becomes inbalanced and horribly shitty for the losing team. In Modern Warfare clan dominance was less of an issue because dedicated servers on the PC version balanced teams periodically. If there’s a shitpile of players on the winning team getting 15:1 kill death ratios chances are half of them will be ported over to the losing team for their disappointment. Furthermore with dedicated servers, customization is allowed. And there’s also virtually no limit to the number of players allowed in a single match. Even if all these fail at least you still walk home with the assurance that your connection will stay relatively constant whenever you play on the same dedicated server. Matchmake matches are unpredictable and from experience I can say that most players make shitty hosts with me not being any exception. Matchmake has all these rules and player count limits and lack of custom elements it makes life suck so much.

Another gigantic problem with matchmaking is the requirement for a playlist thing so that you can connect with other people. I don’t know what this playlist shit actually does but I know that people must have the same playlist version to connect to each other. Within 2 weeks of existence, the playerbase of Modern Warfare 2 has quickly deteriorated into a chaotic mess of shit. At first everyone had the same playlist version and several updates later there’s now at least a dozen versions of these playlists circulating around the community. Matches take longer and longer to initiate and matches are smaller and smaller. Ergo much frustration ensues. Seriously. After introducing matchmaking to the PC version despite PCs being perfectly capable of taking advantage of superior match hosting methods such as dedicated servers, rampant outcry is almost definitely inbound for this new cesspool of a sequel.

And not to mention the ridiculous thing with Steam. For some fucking dumb and inane reason, when you activate this game through Steam, it INSISTS on downloading the whole 11 Gb of game data from their own shitty servers rife with traffic instead of installing the game from the game disc itself. Seriously FFS again, why the fuck would I expend effort to physically acquire the game DVD when none of it is required apart from the activation code. Fuck you Steam. Obviously the DVD exists in my disc drive so that installation can be done through it. Seriously Steam, your servers are slow and even torrenting makes more sense. Downloading an entire game that takes up a tenth of my hard disk is completely and just fucking retarded. You stupid ponces go and die.

Sarang – 사랑

I Have No Mouth, And I Must Scream

Awesome.

Bifurcate

Neutrinos

Автомат Калашникова образца 1947 года

Today is my sister’s birthday. Somehow she managed to get herself berated severely and needless to say I am deriving massive amounts of humour out of it :D :D. I suggest all of you acquire sisters and relish the moments when they get scolded for being annoying little gobshites. Schadenfreude is unbearably fun when misfortune happens to the right person at the right time. For the record, my sister was scolded on her last birthday and also the year before last. All I’m hoping for is enough luck for this streak of annual awesome to last indefinitely.

¡This cheese is burning me!¡This cheese is burning me!¡This cheese is burning me!¡This cheese is burning me!¡This cheese is burning me!¡This cheese is burning me!¡This cheese is burning me!¡This cheese is burning me!¡This cheese is burning me!

Flight of the swines

Remember, remember the Fifth of November
The gunpowder, treason and plot
I know of no reason: why the gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot

Harvest and fire

As most people should have known by now, I am somehow always in a constant state of irk. I don’t think my brain is the one being irrational here. It’s just that when I’m juxtaposed with everyone else, I appear irked only because the people around me are too busy relishing their idealistic perception of existence. People are just too busy enjoying themselves over nothing and not taking into account something called reality and the fact that things can go wrong. Adolescents are especially good at discounting reality and substituting their own illusory bliss for it. Just look at all the adolescents in school, being ridiculously optimistic over everything. Being optimistic is a perfectly logical way to maintain the integrity of your psychology but cranking this optimism up to unjustified levels for no particular reason at all is idiotic. Expecting too much from life is going to make you miserable and disappointed. And when that happens you compensate by being even happier to neutralize the sadness which makes you expect even more from life leading to a vicious cycle of unwarranted happiness and illusory contentment. Even if you’re a hedonist and you’re pretty much satisfied with how you’re feeling now you’re still going to eventually realise one day that life has actually bitchslapped you in the face for expecting too much. Stop being happy over everything seriously. Your optimism sickens me.

I’ve been trying my best to blog about my life but so far my attempts have been to no avail. Well the main reason is actually because I am one of the few bloggers in Singapore who realise that there is nothing remarkable and worthy of attention about life in Singapore. It’s a shit place with shit people who are all shitbags. That aside, the other reason is due to the fact that I am constantly stumped by the unavailability of a great number of words describing certain things in life that everyone has experienced but can never seem to define. For example, when I find myself in the midst of a human crowd I tend to hold my breath because of the trailing smell people leave behind. I need to find a word for that trailing smell but such a word doesn’t exist. On a slightly unrelated note, I hold my breath not because most people smell bad but it’s usually due to the whole myriad of colognes that people just love soaking their skin in. It’s that sudden influx of overwhelming scent that makes me disoriented no matter how appealing it may be. I just cannot stand the shock of strong scents and I find it extremely inconsiderate of people to disperse strong scented aerosols all over the environment without sparing a thought for others who hate such things (i.e. me). Anyway, today I went to Borders to reward myself with a maths book for surviving this season of exams. Needless to say it was there when I got the idea for documenting the contents of this paragraph due to the sizable crowd. When I was on my way home it suddenly struck me that I could’ve done something at Borders, and that was to find a book by the name of The Meaning of Liff.

The Meaning of Liff essentially solves the whole problem of the unavailability of words which I mentioned in the previous paragraph. It’s a book written by John Lloyd and Douglas Adams for the sake of clearing up the mess with describing troublesome things without an associated name. For example, you know inability to urinate because someone might be watching you? That’s called kettleness. And the marlow is the place where your mother stashes her prized collection of branded paperbags. Interestingly, there’s also a word for irrational irritation at everyone and everything but you can go find out that one yourself. After browsing through the entire list of words I couldn’t find one descriptive of the feeling I had when I realised I could’ve bought The Meaning of Liff at Borders though. The closest one is probably woking, which is the feeling one gets when one forgets the intended purpose of going to a certain place after arriving at that place.

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