Thursday, April 29, 2010

A burst bubble

[WARNING: Here be spoilers!]

"Imagine if you suddenly learned that the people, the places, the moments most important to you were not gone, not dead, but worse, had never been. What kind of hell would that be?"


Halfway through the film, the audience finds out that it has been living in the "reality" of Nash's mind. Key players were merely figments of his imagination, and all his time and efforts had been spent on a secret mission he had formulated himself. Nash was lucky to be able to recognise his own condition, and the end of the film shows him humorously checking that others can see a stranger before talking to him.

This led me to wonder if any part of my life was imagined reality. I applied the measure that Nash had learned to use, and was initially relieved that everyone I knew was recognised by someone else.

Then, another thought crossed my mind - what if both the recogniser and the recognised were part of my fantasies? What if I had created an entire network of people around me, so as to assure myself that everything was real? How could I be sure that my entire life thus far had actually occurred?

I soon realised that I couldn't be sure. But that doesn't matter. What is reality anyway? Nash's mental reality was unacceptable because they conflicted with the dominant reality, on which the wider part of his life was based. If the two didn't contradict, would it be such a problem?

Perhaps I'm not advocating the best attitude towards the condition of schizophrenia. But if I'm currently living in the first half of my life film, I hope the bubble never bursts.

Saturday, April 24, 2010

Public transport

I appreciate the efforts of MyZone in improving our public transport system, and I'm glad to hear that it's off to a good start. But for a revolutionary change to occur at this stage of transporting technology, only to reduce fare zones and incorporate private bus companies, is disappointing.

Not only is it expensive to commute in Sydney, but it frustratingly inflexible. Once you've purchased your ticket, your plans are locked in for you, unless you travel enough to warrant a MyMulti. Even then, you are restricted to travelling within that particular zone.

The only advantage I can come up with of retaining our printed paper tickets is that transit officers can come up to you on the trains, stop the song you're listening to or the paragraph you're reading, and demand to see your ticket (and possibly concession card). But hey, if we actually had functioning ticket barriers at every station, we wouldn't need the officers in the first place. (There may be the issue of giving them something to do, but surely the police can find other matters to expend time and effort on.)


Is it that hard to adopt a system like London's Oyster card or Hong Kong's Octopus card?

What amazed me the most in my recent visit to Hong Kong was the convenience brought about by their Octopus card. It was accepted on almost every domestic mode of transport (I had to pay for a separate ticket to Macau), and it worked as a debit card at vending machines, 7-Elevens, supermarket, etc. And it wasn't like you had to take it out of your wallet, or even your bag. The magnetic reader takes care of that.

And perhaps the most amazing thing about the Octopus card is that it was up and running in 1997. That's 13 years ago.

I sure hope the Tcard makes it through to conception this time.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

The changing seasons

Spring was the beginning of life. The sound of chirping birds and the faint aroma of flora lifted my spirtis. The shy sun peeped over the clouds, its warmth inspiring within me hope.

Summer came. The heat was not blistering; rather, I was gradually accustomed to its intensity. It was a comfortable feeling, to be able to open up to the surroundings and bask in the smell of sunshine. The flowers were in full bloom, standing proudly and showing off their beauty to all who paid attention.

The dreamy side in me began to imagine that this would last forever.


I was too deeply engrossed to notice Autumn creep into the scene. The telltale signs - crisp leaves falling, the dry air, the sun holding back its generosity - I either missed or ignored. I tried to carry on my old ways in oblivion, only to be punished by the unforgiving elements.

And now Winter is here. Cold, dark, unwelcome Winter. The flowers are gone, the birds are in hiding. It was no use escaping anymore. There was no choice but to acknowledge the inevitable change. It was time to accept that things are different. So I seek the comfort of the familiar and once again learn to protect myself.

And await the next Spring.