Blog Archive

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Face-Off, What will you look like when you grow old

While thinking of a blogpost idea today, I came across this site (The Face of the Future), aimed at exploring the latest advances in facial computer vision and graphics. You can transform your face to a different age or race. I tried it and it’s really cool.

This is me, looking bored, imprisoned by this face: feeling like a fighter without a cause. I read a research study, (I’m sorry I can’t recall if it’s in a news article or a book), which concludes that women can look at a photograph of a man's face and assess with high accuracy whether he's the kind of guy who likes children, and thus shows good potential as a long-term mate. Hmmm, what do you think of me girls, u-hmmm.

Conversely, most women who participated in the survey identified correctly the men who had the highest testosterone levels and most suitability for a short-term fling. Whew, that is a really tough research eh. I guess men can also identify a short-term-fling-type girls. Peace!

Below is my face, transformed as a child and as a teenager (I can't remember I looked like that.)

The last picture is my supposed look when I grow old. Hmm, I don't want to look soooo sad like that - scary, scary.... I want to grow old but happy. My only wish is to have my complete teeth with me 'till death.

There's also a cool face transformation option if you want to see your Afro or Caucasian look. Here's mine:

Hmm, I like my Caucasian look, but the best look I really like is my manga version on the right. Super-duper cool. I instantly love it. I guess I should use it as my avatar.
Despite the old adage 'never judge a book by its cover' and despite the prevailing belief that attractiveness does not matter once we know a person, being confident neat and attractive still is an advantage.

Happy blogging! Looking forward to see your future face!
Always Smile!!!

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Monday, July 27, 2009

Love's Way

A farmer lived with his twelve-year-old son. The son was poetic and a bit lethargic. One day becoming furious with his son's ways the farmer severely scolded him and ordered him to remove the bushes in the back yard.

On returning in the evening the father went to check his son's work. The back yard was clean except for one bush in the center and his son was not there to question.

Thinking that his son was lethargic to finish the work, the father himself took a knife and began to clear the bush. As soon as his first blow landed on the bush, two small frogs leapt out of their home and scampered away in fright…

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--- Written in 2004 by G.Ramasubramanian --- India

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Thursday, July 23, 2009

The Black Balloon


There was a man who made a living selling balloons at a fair. He had all colors of balloons, including red, yellow, blue, and green. Whenever business was slow, he would release a helium-filled balloon into the air and when the children saw it go up, they all wanted to buy one. They would come up to him, buy a balloon, and his sales would go up again. He continued this process all day. One day, he felt someone tugging at his jacket. He turned around and saw a little boy who asked, "If you release a black balloon, would that also fly?" Moved by the boy's concern, the man replied with empathy, "Son, it is not the color of the balloon, it is what is inside that makes it go up."

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The Seven Affairs

The 1st Affair A married man was having an affair with his secretary. One day they went to her place and made love all afternoon. Exhausted, they fell asleep and woke up at 8 PM. The man hurriedly dressed and told his lover to take his shoes outside and rub them in the grass and dirt. He put on his shoes and drove home. "Where have you been?" his wife demanded. "I can't lie to you," he replied, "I'm having an affair with my secretary. We had sex all afternoon." She looked down at his shoes and said: "You lying bastard! You've been playing golf!"

The 2nd Affair A middle-aged couple had two beautiful daughters but always talked about having a son. They decided to try one last time for the son they always wanted. The wife got pregnant and delivered a healthy baby boy. The joyful father rushed to the nursery to see his new son. He was horrified at the ugliest child he had ever seen. He told his wife: "There's no way I can be the father of this baby. Look at the two beautiful daughters I fathered! Have you been fooling around behind my back?" The wife smiled sweetly and replied: "Not this time!"

The 3rd Affair A mortician was working late one night. He examined the body of Mr. Schwartz, about to be cremated, and made a startling discovery. Schwartz had the largest private part he had ever seen! "I'm sorry Mr. Schwartz," the mortician commented, "I can't allow you to be cremated with such an impressive private part. It must be saved for posterity." So, he removed it, stuffed it into his briefcase, and took it home. I have something to show you won't believe," he said to his wife, opening his briefcase. "My God!" the wife exclaimed, "Schwartz is dead!"

The 4th Affair A woman was in bed with her lover when she heard her husband opening the front door. "Hurry," she said, "stand in the corner." She rubbed baby oil all over him, and then dusted him with talcum powder. "Don't move until I tell you," she said," pretend you're a statue." "What's this?" the husband inquired as he entered the room. "Oh it's a statue," she replied, "the Smiths bought one and I liked it so I got one for us, too." No more was said, not even when they went to bed. Around 2 AM the husband got up, went to the kitchen and returned with a sandwich and a beer. "Here," he said to the statue, "have this. I stood like that for two days at the Smiths and nobody offered me a damned thing.."

The 5th Affair A man walked into a cafe, went to the bar and ordered a beer. "Certainly, Sir, that'll be one cent." "One Cent?" the man exclaimed. He glanced at the menu and asked:" How much for a nice juicy steak and a bottle of wine?" "A nickel," the barman replied. "A nickel?" exclaimed the man. "Where's the guy who owns this place?" The bartender replied: "Upstairs, with my wife." The man asked: "What's he doing upstairs with your wife?" The bartender replied: "The same thing I'm doing to his business down here." The 6th Affair Jake was dying. His wife sat at the bedside. He looked up and said weakly: "I have something I must confess." "There's no need to," his wife replied. "No," he insisted, "I want to die in peace. I slept with your sister, your best friend, her best friend, and your mother!" "I know," she replied, "now just rest and let the poison work."

The 7th affair A woman takes a lover home during the day while her husband is at work. Her 9-year old son comes home unexpectedly, sees them and hides in the bedroom closet to watch. The woman's husband also comes home. She puts her lover in the closet, not realizing that the little boy is in there already. The little boy says, "Dark in here." The man says, "Yes, it is." Boy - "I have a baseball." Man - "That's nice." Boy - "Want to buy it?" Man - "No, thanks." Boy - "My dad's outside." Man - "OK, how much?" Boy - "$150" Man - "Sold." In the next few weeks, it happens again that the boy and the lover are in the closet together. Boy - "Dark in here" Man - "Yes, it is." Boy - "I have a Wilson infielder's glove." The lover, remembering the last time, asks the boy, "How much?" Boy - "$350" Man - "Highway robbery. Sold." A few days later, the father says to the boy, "Grab your glove, let's go outside and have a game of catch." The boy says, "I can't, I sold my ball and my glove." The father asks, "How much did you sell them for?" The boy says, "$500" The father
says, "That's terrible to overcharge your friends like that... that is way more than those two things cost. I'm going to take you to church and make you confess your greed." They go to the church and the father makes the little boy sit in the confession booth and he closes the door.. The boy says, "Dark in here." The priest says, "Don't start that shit again, you're in my closet now."

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I Shot the Messenger

A colleague in the graduate school commented on my post in our yahoo group forum saying that my sentence structure sucks. It’s already a long thread about a topic in our A.I. class – an informative technical exchange of inquiries suddenly interrupted by an English grammar purist. I pointed out that it is an informal forum – correct punctuation, capitalization and grammar was not important. An exchange of foul words ensued; a useless fight of intellect.

I re-checked my forum posts and realized that it’s true – my sentence structure sucks with wrong tenses here and there. Instead of admitting that I am not that good in English grammar, I angrily confronted him.

I wasted a lot of energy in trying to prove my point – and it’s not worth it. I realized that if I can’t admit my faults or face the things that embarrass me, or if I can’t tell the truth about myself, I will have a very difficult time when someone else brings these things to my attention. I often won’t accept the feedback, in trying to protect any false perception of myself. I am always defensive and reactive toward those people who are criticizing me – even if they are correct. I judged them as being mean; I even leave a relationship because somebody told me something that was true but too difficult for me to hear because of pride.

We always shoot the messenger, the bearer of truth: a fat lady shouts at somebody saying she’s fat, a driver gets mad at a passenger saying he doesn’t know how to drive, a man stop talking to a friend who said he’s a kalbong panot (bald), a videoke fanatic go berserk at somebody who said he sound like a basag na kaldero (out of tune).

Lesson: I have to accept truthful feedback without “shooting the messenger,” In this way, I will be free from having to defend myself. It will help me in accepting who I am, my weaknesses and imperfections, and improve on the important parts I have been trying to deny.
__________________________
P.S. Committing wrong grammar in the Philippines is a crime for the English Language purists, hence I'm still trying to improve on my grammar and composition. Please bear with me.


Any same experience or thoughts you want to share in the comments section? I promise I will not shoot you.
Thank you for reading!

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Monday, July 20, 2009

The Rise of the Mediocre - How I climbed the corporate ladder

While sipping a nice hot tea after lunch, hoping to calm down my angry stomach – which is planning a major revolution via a deadly gas attack after I stuff it with an unknown fish soup, banana cue, ampalaya and other for-the-glutton-like-me stuff during lunch, I suddenly notice our company bulletin board. Weird because nobody ever seems to notice it – one of the most ignored thing in our office. Posted on it are the smiling faces of all the employees, forming a pyramid – a typical hierarchical organization chart, telling all the visitors and reminding all the employees who are the gods and the slaves.

My mind, which hates doing mental calculation, tried to calculate how long I’ve been here in this company. Whoaaah! Six years. Double check… Double check.. Hmmm February 2003… Oh my gums! Six years and five months? That long? Whew!

I found this company in Jobstreet, a ship crewing, crew management and shipping agent here in the Philippines. I started as a recruitment & training assistant. After a few years, my boss noticed that I’m bored to death – always going to work with a terrible hang-over, always staring at my computer monitor doing nothing and always having the don’t-fucking-disturb-me look. The trick is, I make them rely to me in almost everything so that they can’t just fire me – from e-mail correspondence to file management to guest and trainee relations, hence instead of firing me they transferred me to the Training Division as a registrar and computer instructor.

I few years later I found myself fighting the Peter Principle, already reaching my level of incompetence. Fighting routine work, highly convinced that I’m underpaid and overloaded by tasks not listed in my job description. So I decided to quit. Hoping for a greener and fresher pasture in the academe.

When I’m about to submit my resignation letter, I was offered the rumored-to-be-challenging job as the Executive Assistant of the Chairman of the Board and President.

I accepted the challenge, therefore here I am – learning bits and pieces of business bureaucracy, learning the importance of business protocols as mundane as handing a business card to a Japanese, e-mail etiquette and various business correspondence and the most exciting – observing how managers perspire during the monthly committee meeting.

It’s already a year and a few months – time passes by, continuously learning a few tricks here and there, but the academe has that drawing power over me. I’ll have to wait I guess – hoping for another round of company reorganization.

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Tuesday, July 14, 2009

The passion of the pink bowling ball

Today, an hour before going to the opening of our company’s annual bowling tournament, I remembered some hazy scenes of my previous night’s dream – a girl with a naughty smile threw a pink bowling ball into the bowling alley. The ten bowling pins, instead of being afraid of the rushing pink ball, had decided to play with it.

That strange dream suddenly took me a few years ago on that same bowling lane, that girl was with me, a girl with a life entirely different from mine, and it was as if some divine force thrown a bowling ball into us. The wave of energy touched both me and the girl sitting beside me. She felt the vibrations of that pink ball, and so did I. We are not afraid. So what now?

We are always given a choice, to avoid the things that will hurt us or, like the bowling pins, have fun and take pleasure in that sudden rush of energy that set the lane rocking.

I have a name for that pink bowling ball: passion. I can use it in describing the beauty of an earth-shaking meeting between two people, but it isn’t just that. It is in the excitement of the unexpected, in the desire to do something with real warmth and in the certainty that the meeting is a beautiful dream, though not the realization of our expectations. Passion sends us signals that guide us through our lives, and the interpretation of those signs is always up to me.

I would like to believe that it is love. With someone I don’t know, I don’t understand and who didn’t figure in my plans at all. All those months of self-control, of denying love, have had exactly the opposite result: I have let myself be swept away by that girl to treat me a little differently.

And if that is what happens, if I have already lost her, I will at least have gained one very happy month in my life. Considering the way the world is, one happy month is almost a miracle.

As my tiger friend puts it, “Hindi mahalaga kung ano ang sitwasyon, ang mahalaga masaya tayo!” (Circumstances doesn’t matter, it’s our happiness that counts!)

I woke up, confused if it was really just a dream.

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Friday, July 10, 2009

The Wolves

A Grandfather from the Cherokee Nation was talking with his grandson.

"A fight is going on inside me," he said to the boy.

"It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves."

"One wolf is evil and ugly: He is anger, envy, war, greed, self-pity, sorrow, regret, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, selfishness and arrogance."

"The other wolf is beautiful and good: He is friendly, joyful, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, justice, fairness, empathy, generosity, true, compassion, gratitude, and deep VISION."

"This same fight is going on inside you, and inside every other human as well."

The grandson paused in deep reflection because of what his grandfather had just said. Then he finally cried out; "Oyee! Grandfather, which wolf will win?"

The elder Cherokee replied, "The wolf that you feed."

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from: Cherokee Wisdom

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The Mousetrap

A mouse looked through the crack in the wall to see the farmer and his wife open a package.

What food might this contain?" The mouse wondered - he was devastated to discover it was a mousetrap. Retreating to the farmyard, the mouse proclaimed the warning. There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!"

The chicken clucked and scratched, raised her head and said, "Mr. Mouse, I can tell this is a grave concern to you, but it is of no consequence to me. I cannot be bothered by it."

The mouse turned to the pig and told him, "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!" The pig sympathized, but said, "I am so very sorry, Mr. Mouse, but there is nothing I can do about it but pray. Be assured you are in my prayers."

The mouse turned to the cow and said "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!" The cow said, "Wow, Mr. Mouse. I'm sorry for you, but it's no skin off my nose."

So, the mouse returned to the house, head down and dejected, to face the farmer's mousetrap alone.

That very night a sound was heard throughout the house -- like the sound of a mousetrap catching its prey. The farmer's wife rushed to see what was caught. In the darkness, she did not see it was a venomous snake whose tail the trap had caught. The snake bit the farmer's wife. The farmer rushed her to the hospital, and she returned home with a fever.

Everyone knows you treat a fever with fresh chicken soup, so the farmer took his hatchet to the farmyard for the soup's main ingredient.

But his wife's sickness continued, so friends and neighbors came to sit with her around the clock. To feed them, the farmer butchered the pig.

The farmer's wife did not get well; she died. So many people came for her funeral; the farmer had the cow slaughtered to provide enough meat for all of them.

The mouse looked upon it all from his crack in the wall with great sadness.

The next time you hear someone is facing a problem and think it doesn't concern you, remember -- when one of us is threatened, we are all at risk. We are all involved in this journey called life. We must keep an eye out for one another and make an extra effort to encourage and help one another.

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Thursday, July 09, 2009

Doubt


Sri Ramakrishna tells of a man who was just about to cross a river when the teacher Bibhishana approached him, wrote a name on a piece of paper, fixed it to the man’s back and said:

‘Fear not. Your faith will help you to walk upon the waters. But the moment you lose your faith, you will drown.’

The man trusted Bibhishana and began to walk effortlessly across the waters. At one point, however, he had an immense desire to know what his teacher had written on the piece of paper fixed to his back.

He got hold of it and read what was written on it: ‘Oh God Rama, help this man to cross the river.’

‘Is that all?’ thought the man. ‘Who is this god Rama anyway?’

As soon as doubt entered his mind, he went under and was drowned.

______________________________

Story Source : Paulo Coelho Blog

Image Source : Doubt

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Tuesday, July 07, 2009

The Wedding Finger

EVER WONDERED WHY WEDDING RINGS SHOULD BE ON YOUR FOURTH FINGER AND NO WHERE ELSE?

There is a beautiful and convincing explanation given by the Chinese ......

The thumb represents your Parents.

The second (index) finger represents your Siblings.

The middle finger represents you.

The fourth (ring) finger represents your Life Partner.

The last (little) finger represents your children.


First, open your palms (face to face),bend the middle fingers and hold them together,back to back.

Second, open and hold the remaining three fingers and the thumb - tip to tip.

(As shown in the figure below):

Now, try to separate your thumbs (representing the parents). They will open, because your parents are not destined to live with you lifelong, and have to leave you sooner or later.

Please join your thumbs as before and separate your Index fingers (representing siblings). They will also open, because your brothers and sisters will have their own families and will have to lead their separate lives.

Now rejoin the index fingers and separate your little fingers (representing your children). They will open too, because the children also will get married and settle down on their own some day..

Finally, rejoin your little fingers, and try to separate your ring fingers (representing your spouse). You'll be surprised to see that you just CANNOT, because husband & wife have to remain together all their lives - through thick and thin!!So clever, those Chinese!!

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A special place in hell...


…is reserved for my board mate who approaches as I am eating my favorite pack of potato chips on a boring rainy Sunday afternoon, that only contains three chips left and asks, “Hey bro, can I have one?”



_________________________
*This is my random record of anything that annoys me. I had this idea last night to post "A special place in hell..." series on this blog - a weekly post perhaps, just for fun.

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About the Blogger

Yodi Insigne
Yodi de Veas Insigne is one of those delusional sorts who imagines himself a useful contributor to the greater blogosphere (Well, that's what he's trying to accomplish).

He started blogging for three reasons:

1. He always felt he has something important to say,
2. Books can make him cry,
3. He want to sleep at night.

He is a certified bookworm, travel junkie, shutterbug, movie freak, Mangyan freethinker who sleeps a lot and think a lot. He got a little vice, which is black coffee and cashew nuts. He got colorblindness on yellow and green - and he freaking loves it!

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