THIS IS THE 100,579th word I have posted in my blog. Aren't you proud of me? I believe it is the 479th post as well. So it's time for the 3:00 hour post, which I partake in to keep myself occupied for the hour before I go home. I find that it makes time ... dare I say, fly! Though they're trite, you gotta love those clichés. 2:59 PM. So what, I got a head start. Big deal.
Today I've determined that playing Hearts on the computer is like playing a completely different game than playing Hearts with people. First of all, this free-for-all business? Each man for himself? Uh-uh. Nope. No way. Nada. It's 3 vs 1. The computer doesn't care who wins just as long as it's not me. It always has one strong player and one weak player. The weak player takes all the points while the strong player takes only a few. This way, the game ends, and while I didn't lose, I didn't win either. Of course, it lets me win the first game to lull me into a false sense of security, after which it begins the process that I like to call Operation Don't Let Gordon Win Hearts And Give Him As Little Spades As Possible So You Can Pass Him The Queen. 3:03 PM.
I'm thinking of what to say. 3:06 PM.
Okay. Can we use a different song for the girls' section of the slideshow? Can't Hold Us Down is nice for girls and all, but when I'm arranging the pictures and I have to listen to degrading remarks about guys, I find myself a little less motivated than the time when I'm working on, say, the food category. It's a little disheartening. What is it about girls and anti-guy propaganda? Why is there so much man-hating and so little woman-hating? Is it because they think we think they're inferior? Extreme feminism has never been my cup of tea. You can't pull a double standard. The cause for equality between men and women is fine, but then there's the whole "we don't need men cuz they suck" concept. Maybe I'm not saying it exactly how it is, but you know it's out there. Hmm, I don't know. 3:12 PM.
Okay. So I'll admit that there's a decent handful of male chauvinists out there. But that doesn't give women an excuse to fight fire with fire. Is that fighting fire with fire? I don't know if my metaphor is right or not, but you get the idea. Or maybe it's "two wrongs don't make a right." Hooray cliché! Well, anyhow, bottom line is: I'm not using that song. 3:14 PM. Pi.
Is exactly 3.14. That was very hilarious. I was reading A Short History... a while ago and Bryson was talking about people who were looking to explore the infinite space of the universe as well as the infinitesimal particles of the atom. It all became very boring to me, [or at least I think it did] and that's why I stopped reading it for a while. Isn't there a point when people should leave things alone and accept that there are just some mysteries of this world that we will never comprehend? Sure, there's always room for the cure for cancer and electricity-powered automobiles, but when we're talking about muons and gluons and leptons and top, bottom, up, down, strange, charm quarks... what does it really matter? What can we do with it anyway? Maybe I'm just an ignorant kid, but I say there's only so far we should go before we start wasting money on useless experiments.
Still thinking. 3:24 PM.
Hey, do you guys wanna make a bet as to what ethnicity my roommate is going to be? Whoever wins or comes closest gets to do something when we all come back from college for Thanksgiving break or whatever. If you're interested, leave a comment or something. Speaking of college, my dad found this $300 computer. Pretty good deal. Looks like we're going to get it. Of course, it doesn't really matter to me as long as it works and it's mine. So unless it's broken or it's filled with someone else's junk, I'm happy. Finally a computer of my own! Nothing that doesn't belong to me, none of my dad's karaoke vcd files, no weird Chinese character encoder thing, no Xvid malfunctions, no three rows of icons on the desktop, no unavailability due to my dad's chinese dvd copying, no diggity. No offense, Dad. Convenience, that's all I'm saying. Think about it... on my current computer I have like five hard drives, one of which I have all my stuff on. It looks and feels cluttered! 3:31 PM.
Ocean Avenue. Take a Picture. Praise You. In This Diary. The slideshow is going to be good but we all have to get together to take a group picture! Where is Stephanie and why can she never do anything? If she's doing stuff with other friends and not me, I'm going to be severely vexed. If anyone gets a hold of Stephanie, tell her that we need to get together pronto. ASAP. I say tomorrow is a good time because I'll be bringing along people wherever I go Wednesday til Friday so they can take a picture for us and none of that self-timer business. 3:35 PM
Superman. He seems like a pretty good guy, right? He's super fast, super strong, bulletproof, he's got those laser eye dealies, the frosty breath thing happening for him, and I'm not sure about this one but isn't he supposed to have the big bad wolf blowing wind power, too? So how can they ever make a comic about him? Yeah, you heard me. I mean, at first it could be a little interesting. You see how his powers work and you see him beat the bad guy. So how does he keep having battles with all the bad guys? Does Metropolis have a bad guy factory or something? If he's so powerful, how can he possibly have any trouble keeping crime down? I personally have never read the comics or experienced any adaptation of the comics. Can someone explain to me what could make Superman interesting? Didn't he die, too? And he was born again or something? Are they trying to make him a Christ figure? I don't exactly know where I'm going with this, but I just thought it was interesting why he could keep facing new "challenges" when he seems invincible in every aspect, save the Kryptonite one. If I were Superman, I would make a lead-lined uniform so that I would be invulnerable to Kryptonite. You know, like those blanket things that they put over you at the dentist's office when you get an X-ray? Sure, it wouldn't be as attractive or as tight on the body, but hey, what's more important: looks or saving the world while not dying from your one and only weakness? Obviously the longer one. If only these superheroes actually existed, I would tell them how to survive. 3:45 PM.
I have five friends at Stanford according to thefacebook.com. They are [in no particular alphabetical order]: Hershey Avula, Michael Endler, Susan Gov, Govind Persad, and Shamsher Samra. I feel like a very popular guy, I know so many people already! [when, in fact, my sister introduced me to the three whose names most of you do not recognize] But alas! I can live in a dream a little longer. Or, as Michael's away message aptly states:
"I will not dream anymore, you said... But then your team made the playoffs, or you saw a movie, or a billboard glowing dusky orange and advertising Aruba, or a girl who bore more than a passing resemblance to a woman you'd dated in high school-- a woman you'd loved and lost-- danced above you with shimmering eyes and you said, fuck it, let's dream just one more time."
Dennis Lehane, Mystic River
That's inspiring. Absolutely inspiring. I want to dream again. So I'll dream that I'm popular and all the cool Stanford kids will walk by and say, "Hey, isn't that Gordon Koo? He's such a cool cat." Or dog. I never really figured out whether I was a cat or dog person. I figured I was a little bit of both, kinda like something that Stephanie Kong told me about a year ago to cheer me up, even though I wasn't sad or anything. Misconstrue means something like misunderstood, right? I'll have to -- okay I just looked it up and I'm right! It's times like these that make me feel adequate. 3:53 PM.
I'm actually not quite sure of when we're leaving today. Something tells me that it's not going to be 4:00, but hey, a little dreaming never hurt anyone. Actually, it probably did, and it probably hurt that someone a lot. But I won't be devastated if I don't leave in six minutes. Nor will I be devastated if I don't become rich by the age of 30. I'll tell you, though, I will be devastated if AIM disconnects one more freaking time on this computer. JK I'm kidding. See, I told you that we would be together again, just like old times, and here we are--me, typing this rambunctiously on the computer awaiting the words "Let's go"; and you, reading these sentences word for word [sometimes twice to capture the full effect!] and cherishing every moment. It is as if the me from the past is communicating with the you from the future. My own personalized time machine. As you are reading this now, I will have gone through many changes since I typed these words. You could see me and say hello, but you would not be greeting the same person. You could mention Superman to me, and I would mention The Punisher. You could try to make a conjecture about my roommate with me, and I could tell you that he's a Romanian racketball player with a girlfriend of three years who recently learned to jetski. You might mention extreme feminism to me and ... well, I'd respond since that's something I'll never let go of. But at this moment, you of present time and I of 4:03 Tuesday July 20th 2004 have a connection. And this connection will always hold true! Goodbye! 4:04 PM.