We are moving toward a dictatorship of relativism which does not recognize anything as for certain and which has as its highest goal one’s own ego and one’s own desires.
Liberty has turned into licentiousness, and tolerance for dissenters has become little more than rank relativism and nihilism. All perspectives are equally valid, which means no perspective is truly valid.
If everybody does it, it must be right, no? If you can’t beat the crowd, join ‘em.
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Spanish people get up to very strange things. Videographic evidence as follows:
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A short but important update. A hunk has been spotted wandering the streets of Singapore. He is single, and very much available.
Women (and men), do apply! Spots are filling up fast!
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Law school will come full circle for the current batch of fourth years come May. It’s sad but true that most of us will be leaving law school looking far worse than we did when we entered. Sitting in “The Summit” today and observing the Year 1s and 2s walking around, I realised that the difference was far more apparent than I first thought. Save for a precious few who continue to take extra effort to doll up, most of us look exactly like the exhausted soulless final years that we are.
In the grand tradition of my life, I attempted to sum up the past four years of my life in a different institute of learning. The law degree course being twice as long as junior college, one would expect to walk away with more memories and friends. While lectures and seminars don’t exactly make for the best environment in which one can converse and connect, at the very least, one should be leaving with more friends than JC, albeit not as many as secondary school, right?
Maybe it’s law school. Maybe it’s the people who will in future be known to society as prostitutes and blood-suckers. Maybe (and this is most likely), it’s me. Law school started with a bang, but looks set to end with a whimper.
Legal writing is a great course to start off our law school education with. Apart from grounding us technically, it bonded people together like no other course could. As those who’ve been through army know, strange things happen when people go through shit together. And while that didn’t translate as literally as it did in army, legal writing, with its insane workload, saw everyone bond together in the best way possible. United against a common enemy – the bane of work.
Days were whiled away in the business canteen, talking, inquiring, sharing. Learning more about people was akin to shooting up drugs – it gave one a rush, a thrill to have engaged someone else in something so basic yet special. Sure, all that amounted to a nasty shock come exam time, but even the process of studying was made all the more enjoyable with late night study sessions over nasi lemak and coffee (and the occasional beer of course).
As drugs do however, the momentary high courses through one’s body before sweeping away, leaving one with nothing but snot and tears. Friends started drifting. Rivalries formed between different ‘cliques’ of friends, and soon enough, it became impossible to trust everyone save for a few. The people you thought knew you well… didn’t actually. Meetings together became sparse and filled with conversation that left one feeling nothing, empty. Granted, withdrawal set in occasionally and glimpses of the brilliance and love of past could be seen in those rare meetings. Generally however, nothing came close again to what you experienced, what you thought you had.
Friendship was never this complicated in secondary school. It’s not supposed to be filled with politicking. It’s not supposed to be merely about lunches together amidst inane chatter. It’s about having the honesty to tell others what you really feel and really think. To make sure you don’t neglect friends just because you suddenly grew another half. To care. To love.
So what’s really left?
One or two good friends you know will stay. A dozen plus friends you know will drift. A whole lot of memories, but ultimately, a vague regret at what could have been.
The best laid schemes o’ mice and men
Gang aft a-gley
And leave us naught but grief and pain
For promised joy
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For too long has Xiaxue been villified and pillored by jealous bloggers and journalists alike. She was recently honoured in a local publication for her dressing, managing a noteworthy place in their Top Ten list. She co-stars in a widely-acclaimed television show, Girls Out Loud. Even thegreatsze, once observed to be the smartest person amongst a group of eminent scholars, thinks she is class. Similarly, the ass-whooping she dished out to Mia Tan recently only served to elevate her cult status. The first full-time blogger in Singapore, and the winner of the Asia Blog Awards since 2003, Xiaxue is indeed Singapore’s pride and joy.
In her latest entry, Xiaxue has outdone herself. Finally, someone who dares admit that she enjoys being raped by good-looking men! The secret that women have hidden from men behind an articifial facade of coyness and modesty – it’s all a sham as revealed by Xiaxue! Truth is, everyone who goes clubbing is a slut/whore/gangbanger, and should therefore be treated like one. Why bother with the whole charade of buying them a drink and acting all manly? Instead, just get them pissed drunk, carry their barely-conscious bodies to your vehicle stationed nearby, and enjoy!
Men around the world, heed this advice. If a girl says she doesn’t want to have sex with you, she’s lying. If you manage to play tongue-hockey with a girl in a club, you are so going to get laid. After all, girls think that “logically, if you agree to kissing, dirty-dancing, then you should be mostly agreeable to going all the way.” Oh, and that nagging sense of guilt you feel tugging away at your conscience after when you realise you might as well have committed necrophilia? Don’t worry about it! They aren’t even going to feel traumatized by the experience. If anything, they’ll be honoured that someone as good-looking as you consented to sleeping with them.
If you are unlucky enough to get arrested by the police, just wave the above-mentioned article by Xiaxue in front of the judge’s face before smugly waving your dick around and going, “who else wants to have a piece of this?” If you’re lucky enough to get a female/gay judge, you can even counter-sue the damn bitch for trying to have her cake and eat it. What, as if having sex with you wasn’t good enough, right?
Oh and if you’re worried about the credibility of Xiaxue, again, lay your worries down. She isn’t alone in thinking so. Countless people have commented, claiming that they would gladly trade places with the “rape victim”, seeing as the “rapist” in question was such a hottie. As an example, someone called anonymous annoyed highlighted that:
“good looking 21 year old convict-to-be charged with raping a phillipina. THIS IS TOO SAD. count that girl lucky he raped her. drop that dude at orchard towers and then check how many of such women would be queuing up to get raped by him. doh”
Similar comments abound. We should all rejoice that feminism has been single-handedly brought back to the stone ages. Those must have been good times! Let’s just hope that parliament gets its act together, and legalise the whole knocking girls on the heads with clubs thing. I mean, like helllloooooo, they so want to get raped lor.
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From Actual Court Records
Q: Is your appearance here this morning pursuant to a deposition notice which I sent to your attorney?
A: No, this is how I dress when I go to work.
True Case Names
Schmuck v. Dumm
5th Dist. No. 6133, 1983 Ohio App. Lexis 13134 (Ohio Ct. App. July 25, 1983)
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