Browsing Category


ideas, life


September 4, 2016 | 0 Comments


He set down the abacus and stared into the darkening horizon, as a thoughtful look stole across his countenance.

Caught by a shy ray of dwindling sunlight, the lonesome tool revealed a tableau of unaligned wooden beads.

These beads, separated purposefully, revealed an infallible truth unbeknownst to all, save the mathematician.

The calculus doesn’t lie, he sighed, and took one long at the unforgiving image before tossing it away –

The beads, shaking in frenzied distress as they took an unintended sojourn through the air,

Their rattling cries, a requiem of death performed by merciless winds,

Before hitting the ground,

And shattering into pieces.

But all the mathematician could hear, in his mind,

Was the sound of rolling dices,

As the beads are set free.

And so, it seemed, the wheel of fortune…

… spins again.


ideas, nickilosophy

Re-Imagined Constellations

September 19, 2015 | 0 Comments

Went with a bunch of my frisbee friends to support Chiang and his band at ION Orchard Event Hall where they performed at the Noise Festival 2015. Chiang sang a new song that was yet untitled, and our discussions on what the song should be christened gave rise to some personal thoughts.

To begin, Chiang’s new song was both a reflection and a promise. It was a reflection as he first revealed his fears that the centrifugal forces of work and passion may rend apart the fabric of the songs he has yet written into threads of lost and regretful possibilities; it was also a promise as he went on to describe his startling realisation that “the stars may align us, but they don’t bind us” and pledged to bring the songs that lived in the shadows of his mind into the light.

As I immersed myself in the song, the lyrics reminded me of something I wrote previously about the “rituals of love“, where I imagined how couples could “[d]raw a constellation of love between stars you have named after her and yourself”. As this bout of recollection was triggered while I was pondering over a possible title for Chiang’s song, I immediately felt drawn to the conceptual beauty behind “constellation” and sought to draw a parallel.

It was while mining this vein of thought that I had the feeling a suitable title for Chiang’s song could be “Re-Imagined Constellations”. Such a title lends itself to poetic justice being done when we consider how the different facets of our personality may be represented by stars strewn across the expanse of our mental cosmos, where it is upon looking at such constellations formed that we come up with the personal narratives of our lives. “Re-Imagined Constellations” would thus be particularly relevant to Chiang’s song if we think about how our personal narratives need not necessarily be bound to the pre-existing constellations that we see – rather, they should be based on the hopeful celestial patterns that we imagine.

To conclude, what we make of ourselves and our potential tend to be formed under the auspices of psychological rationalisation, and there are occasions where we may have invariably short-changed ourselves if we lack the audacity to dream. This brings to mind a phrase I use to encourage myself when times are hard: at the end of the day, if you do not define your own value, someone else will tell you what it is and it will be less than what you are worth.


Thoughts on Ravi Zacharias’ “Truth, If You Dare” Seminar

September 12, 2015 | 2 Comments

Seminar: 6.5/10
Experience: 8/10

I was invited to attend this seminar by Char and I went for it with heightened expectations given the apparent renown of Ravi Zacharias as proclaimed by my Christian friends. While it wasn’t as insightful as I had hoped it would be, the seminar did provide some food for thought.

Some qualifications before I launch into my reflections: I have accounted for the inevitable use of rhetorical devices and the brevity of certain expositions necessitated by the nature of such time-limited seminars. Having read some of Zacharias’ writings (as well as what critics have to say), I’ll also borrow from these penned thoughts to fill in any perceived gaps. These reflections are essentially arrived at from my beliefs as a hopeful and curious Deist (i.e. I believe in a non-interventionist, supernatural Creator but not in organised religion) who is searching for a reasoned faith to hold on to, and I ask for your forbearance and willingness to correct me or share with me your thoughts if I have inadvertently revealed my ignorance.

On ‘Absolute Truth’
Ravi Zacharias began the seminar by elaborating on the concept of ‘truth’, which he compartmentalises into ‘philosophical truth’, ‘existential truth’ and ‘moral truth’. He went on to say that truth may be determined by correspondence and coherence (of systems of thoughts) and that it may be tested by logic, relevance and empirical evidence. He also substantiated these points by reference to poems, song lyrics and real-world examples.

While it was an impressive display of memory and rhetoric, I felt that it could have been more relevant if he had couched these points within the ongoing debate between cultural relativism and moral absolution. To put it briefly, the secular view is that ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ are relative concepts which are determined situationally and contextually by contemporary culture and society. Accordingly, in post-modernist fashion, it is postulated that all kinds of beliefs, values, lifestyles and standards are equally valid.

On the other hand, the opposite view is that there exists certain absolute standards by which our actions may be judged against, such as a divine mandate which provides for ‘right’ and ‘wrong’. This view has been popularised by CS Lewis in Mere Christianity (1952), where he argues for a Moral Law, which can be distinguished from herd instinct and social convention because Moral Law is akin to a meta-instinct or standard, against which various herd instincts or social conventions are judged (I don’t entirely agree with Lewis’ comparison but I must admit that his analogies are rather poetic).1

In fact, the issue of cultural relativism and moral absolution seems to be alluded to during the ‘live’ Q&A segment where a student from NUS queried if cultural influences should affect one’s interpretation of the Bible. Zacharias replied by first acknowledging the issue of cultural relativism before stating that the Scriptures should be seen as revelation from God rather than interpretation by Man (not entirely satisfied with this answer as it requires the audience to take a leap of faith towards believing that there exists a God in the first place). He went on to provide a humorous account of how the Eastern father would more likely demand the prodigal son to grovel in apology rather than receive him with grateful and open arms. Thereafter, he claimed that it is such cultural differences that would enrich one’s reading of the Bible.

I was perplexed by his unsatisfactory response as I was looking forward to any insightful comments he may have about the debate given his earlier referencing to cultural relativism. Perhaps the disappointment was more acutely felt because I’ve read his arguments for absolute truth in The End of Reason (2008), which are predominantly premised on the moral bankruptcy of an atheistic lifestyle (update: this is not a view I subscribe to) as opposed to positing a positive case for theism. In fact, one critic argues that Zacharias’ views on atheism may be flawed and one-dimensional as he seemed to assume that atheists share a worldview despite the fact that atheism is largely characterised by “its denial of a [theistic] worldview… [and] not by its adherence to certain beliefs”.

Ultimately, even if I am not inclined towards atheism, I feel that the opposite of the Christian belief in God should not necessarily be framed as unbridled hedonism as Zacharias suggests in both his book and seminar (e.g. when he brought up the example of Oscar Wilde to demonstrate the destructive pursuit of pleasure that is apparently fuelled by atheism).

On Interpretations of the ‘Absolute Truth’
Further, even if I were to accept that absolute truth exists, my follow-up question would be whether interpretations of this absolute truth should also be deemed true. For instance, do the varying interpretations of the Bible by different Christian denominations necessarily form part of this absolute truth? In particular, what should I make of the contentious nature of prosperity gospel and such churches’ literal interpretations of the Bible to support their doctrinal teachings e.g. “seed faith” covenant in which donations are perceived as the “seed” which would grow in value and be returned to the donor in miraculous ways?

This issue appears to be raised through an anonymous question posed during the seminar, where the author framed it in a more crude manner by asking whether belief in the ‘wrong’ denomination would send one to hell. Zacharias’ answer, in summary, is that we have to be discerning of the distinction between form and substance and that unity in the Christian faith need not be equated with uniformity across the various denominations. While he also focused a lot on ‘theological integrity’ being the key distinguishing factor, his failure to unpack what ‘theological integrity’ really means left me unconvinced.

Additionally, while the form-substance dichotomy may be a useful distinction in foundational aspects of the faith such as belief in the resurrection of Christ, what happens in situations where the form shades off by imperceptible degrees into the substance such that the line becomes blurred? After all, wouldn’t the determination of the form of contributions or tithe to be given back reflect quite substantively the nature of the church’s doctrinal teachings?

A large part of my reluctance to believe in organised religion also lies in how religious institutions appear to be largely directed by the visible hand of Man such as charismatic pastors or authoritative figures i.e. the Pope. Perhaps I may have also been influenced by my Catholic roots, from which my skepticism to the varied interpretations of the Bible was birthed when I continually see how interpretations of the Bible appear to change (sometimes quite drastically) according to how liberal-minded the Pope is (see Pope Francis’s controversial views on re-marriage, homosexuality, evolution, etc).

In fact, I don’t find an issue with differing interpretations per se. The more important question I am grappling with is wherein lies the authority which decides whether an interpretation is right or wrong, especially since the only ‘true’ authority, one might say, is divine in nature?

Finally, my view that interpreting the Bible is largely subjective and, thus, may not hold fast to the ‘absolute truth’ (if it exists) also stems from the fact that much can be lost in translation when we consider the lacuna or gaps inherent in such an exercise. Using the classification Roy Zuck in Basic Bible Interpretations (1991) came up with, these gaps may be:

A Time Gap: we can’t exactly e-mail Paul and ask him about his letter to the Galatian Christians.
A Geographical Gap: not many of us grew up in the part of the world in which the Bible was written.
A Cultural Gap: when is the last time you ate meat offered to an idol (as in 1 Corinthians 8)?
A Language Gap: if you think 17th century English is difficult (as in the King James Version), how about 3000-year-old Hebrew, or 2000-year old Greek?
A Literary Gap: you won’t find Parables on any recent best-seller lists. The Bible has many literary forms and figures of speech we may not be familiar with.
A Spiritual Gap: God’s thoughts are infinite, our minds are finite; get the picture?

In any case, the seminar definitely provoked much thinking and served as a platform for discussion amongst my friends, and for that I am glad to have attended it.

1 “Now this thing that judges between two instincts, that decides which should be encouraged, cannot itself be either of them. You might as well say that the sheet of music which tells you, at a given moment, to play one note on the piano and not another, is itself one of the notes on the keyboard. The Moral Law tells us the tune we have to play: our instincts are merely the keys.” – Book 1, Chapter 2 of Mere Christianity.

friendship, ideas, life

Stories We Have Yet To Share

March 4, 2015 | 2 Comments

Chanced upon my old blog and saw this post I wrote back in 13 Aug ’09:

“Single conversations with another often entitle us to a glimpse, or more, to the concealed narratives of one’s life. There is a special quality in speaking to another individually that stands out from all other types of conversations – it pulls us along a path less travelled, where we find it more comfortable to speak about the intimate details of our lives without the usual accompanying baggage of conflicting emotions and self-consciousness.

Nestled within us are myriad subplots and storylines that we often do not share with others. Sometimes, these personal stories come into conflict with our public personae, or they could reflect weaknesses that we prefer to keep under wraps. That is why these stories often reside along the path of greatest resistance in common dialogues, I guess.

But human nature is capricious. There are moments where we feel more vulnerable, or moments where we are more inclined to open up. These are the unpredictable times when two persons find their relationship transformed in a fundamental and entirely unexpected way to become something more, something deeper.

In that case, it might be true that the greatest relationships are formed not because of similarities, but in spite of them; and that circumstances are sometimes a greater determinant than commonalities.”

It makes me wonder about the things that have changed and it compels me to question if the values that remain are the same. It reminds me of the reason why I started blogging in the first place: more than anything, it is to create an evergrowing tapestry of thoughts that I can look back at in years to come and learn more about who I was then and how I have since grown as I unstitch antiquated moments in recollection.

This post, in particular, resonated because I remember how I used to invest so much time and effort into reaching out to friends and getting to know them better. It was part of my personal philosophy, then, that every individual houses many variegated rooms that conceal a part of their identity. Some of these rooms are deliberately designed to be ostentatious as they portray to the world our primary, adopted persona; others have locks placed on them as they are meant to protect our vulnerabilities and secrets. And there are even some rooms, rare as they are, which we may not know exist within us.

I’m not sure how much of this personal philosophy still remains. Time and events have revealed that not every ‘house’ that lies on the same street as ours presently would always remain proximate – some of them appear close by chance and circumstance, while others relocate themselves for personal design and are just as quick to move away once all benefit has expired. Few and far between are the ones that will always be around the vicinity – the familiar ones you can always rely on for comfort and strength on fair-weathered days.

Are the stories I have yet to share the same ones?

friendship, ideas

The Friendship Equation

February 26, 2015 | 2 Comments


The exchange of views I had with my friends on my 25th inspired several new insights on a theory or equation of friendship I have been pondering over. The equation involves two variables in determining the trajectory of a friendship – specifically, 1) wavelength (how easy two people ‘click’ with each other) and 2) frequency (how often the two share facets of their lives with each other). As seen from the above image, this is a spin-off from the wave equation in physics.

What I like about this equation is that it neatly resolves the false dichotomy between quality and quantity of time spent with each other in determining friendships that we typically treat as binary opposites: while it is true that wavelength between friends typically trump the amount of time spent with each other (λ > f) in a side-by-side comparison for establishing the trajectory of friendship1, initial wavelength without further effort invested into maintaining the friendship would eventuate in it falling into disrepair (λ x 0 = 0).

This equation also reflects how certain friendships never go pass the arbitrary and personalised threshold level for what we might otherwise call confidante since a low value in λ multiplied by a high value in f would still result in a small v.

P.S. I just wonder how much that goes into defining the wavelength we share with other individuals is wish-fulfilment and how much of it is real. After all, we are often told that the reality we perceive through our senses is an internalised one; it does not reflect the objective reality. Perhaps that is why in both friendships and relationships, one of the keys to a healthy maintainance of relations is periodic reassurances through visible gestures or acts, which vastly helps to resolve any uncertainties that might have germinated in the absense of amity. This should not, however, be confused with neediness, which is characterised by the need for constant reassurances.


1 Perhaps a more accurate representation of the equation would thus be v = f x, where ‘2’ is merely an arbitrary estimate reflecting the stronger weightage of λ as compared to f.