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Activities

14 September 2012

Activities.

Butir-butir

8 Juli 2012

Mungkin aku yang baru membuka hidup dari tabir yang menutupnya. Bagai anak Adam yang baru dilahirkan oleh sang bunda terkasih. Ku tak tahu apa-apa, bingung, tak mengerti, dan…bodohnya aku. Belajar duduk, merangkak, berdiri. Belajar mengenal huruf dan angka–belajar membaca, menulis. Dan aku tak mengerti apa-apa.

Saat kanak-kanak aku nakal, sering membuat ayah bundaku menangis karena tingkahku. Aku beranjak remaja. Belajar sewajarnya dibangku sekolah tak terpikir belajar lebih dan tak punya suatu tujuan dan mimpi. Goyah tak terarah. Masih memelihara ingus dan tak kunjung sembuh, culun, lugu, dan sedikit tomboy (katanya).

Hari ini usiaku 19 tahun 9 bulan 8 hari. Dan aku masih merasa sangat bodoh. Tanpa sadar aku sering berbuat sesuatu yang bodoh dan konyol. Sesuatu yang memalukan. Entahlah aku sering tak mengerti ada apa dengan aku. Sering mind and action-ku terjadi cross.

Hidup dan keadaan yang mengajariku untuk merasakan berbagai rasa kehidupan. Tak ada sesuatu yang merugikan meskipun hal-hal buruk yang datang padaku. Karena semua hal yang datang adalah kuliah dari Tuhan. Sebagai pelajaran yang sangat penting untuk diri kita. Rasanya aku tak berhak berbicara tentang kehidupan karena mungkin aku tak tahu walau sebutir jagung.Hanya bisa belajar dari orang-orang yang sudah matang dalam hidup.

Hari ini, tepat aku berada pada sebuah peristiwa, dimana aku seperti masuk kedalam bukan diriku dan kehilangan kendali atas jalanku. Saat ku terlibat dalam sebuah pertengkaran rumah tangga seorang teman kecilku. Awalnya aku kecewa dengan sikap kawanku yang memposisikan aku sebagai umpan yang paling efektif. Tapi disitulah aku baru mengenal kawan kecilku. Menjadi cerita terhangat dikalangan kampung halaman. Namun aku bisa mengerti bahwa dia sedang dalam kehimpit keadaan sehingga dia tak bisa berfikir apa-apa. Yah, bagiku ini pelajaran penting. Tak banyak ku bahas tentang hal ini. Yang jadi pelajaran adalah kita baru bisa mengenal siapa orang-orang terdekat kita adalah ketika dia sedang dalam keadaan terdesak dan apa yang akan dia lakukan. Ketika kita bersahabat lama dengan seseorang, kita tidak tahu bagaimana sahabat kita kalau kita tidak melakukan suatu project bersama. Mungkin yang melibatkan uang lainnya. Itu cerita nyata dari seseorang kepadaku yang datang sabtu malam kemarin. Ternyata mata yang aku lihat pada seseorang itu benar adanya dalam firasat-firasatku.

A DIETER’S PRAYER FOR THE HOLIDAYS

28 Maret 2012

Lord, grant me the strength that I may not fall

Into the clutches of cholesterol.

At polyunsaturates, I’ll never mutter,

For the road to hell is paved with butter.

 

And cake is cursed and cream is awful

And Satan is hiding in every waffle.

Beelzebub is a chocolate drop

And Lucifer is a lollipop.

Teach me the evils of hollandaise,

Of pasta and gobs of mayonnaise.

And crisp fried chicken from the South

Lord, if you love me, shut my mouth.

 

_Quoted by Steven A. Pickert, M.D., in Organic Gardening.

Baca selanjutnya…

Dunia Sophie/Sophie’s World

28 Maret 2012

Hallo, the readers! I have a review about Sophie’s World Book. I get it from the article

http://www.levity.com/rubric/sophie.html

It’s the wonderful book, I have read it over and over again. It’s the review below.

Sophie’s World

A novel about the History of Philosophy by Jostein Gaarder.

Sophie's WorldReview:

The foil for Gaarder’s pedagogic fantasy is Sophie Amundsen, a spunky 14-year-old whose philosophic journey begins when a pair of timeless ontological posers–“Who are you?” and “Where does the world come from?”

–appear mysteriously in her mailbox. A follow-up envelope containing typewritten pages titled “What Is Philosophy?” (11) orient her on a correspondence course in the history of philosophy that eventually turns into a Socratic tutorial. Sophie’s enthusiasm shocks her mother, who attributes her newfound interest in the mysteries of life to the influence of drugs.

Nothing could be further from the truth (at least until the Kierkegaard chapter, when things do get a trifle psychedelic). Although Sophie’s tutor, Alberto Knox, grounds the philosopher’s project in maintaining a sense of wonder, his disquisition is clean and sober indeed. What keeps the novel moving are the tricks Gaarder plays with what we used to call the old r. and i.–reality and illusion. Sophie begins receiving postcards addressed from a United Nations observer in Lebanon to his own 15-year-old daughter, Hilde. As Sophie gradually becomes aware of her existence within a book (within a book (within a book)), the philosophical question gradually take on an existential tinge, embracing problems of determinacy and free will. While not nearly as highfalutin as such would-be popularizers as Umberto Eco, Susan Sontag, or Stephen Hawkins, it’s loads of fun in a cool, Scandinavian Alice-in-Wonderland fashion.

The book is for children of all ages, remember, so don’t expect detailed synopses of the world’s major philosophers, systems, or contexts. The risks Gaarder takes in the interests of simplicity and clarity definitely pay off, however. These include the translation of nearly all technical terms, the omission of the hundreds of titles that would otherwise clutter the book, and his emphasis on the echoing persistence of philosophical themes from the pre-Socratics (whose modernism is conveyed elegantly) to the existentialists Gaarder nutshells right before dropping a few gee-whiz notions about ecophilosophy and how star gazing constitutes a cosmic journey into the past (“Yes, we too are stardust” (392), croons Alberto).

Sophie’s World is a model of classic pedagogical technique packaged in most tasteful modernism. From the Socratic dialogues up to and including Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari’s ultimate collaboration (the perfect companion volume, their What Is Philosophy? tastefully packages chaos as classicism), philosophy has been intertwined with friendship, sharing, and equality. While on the one hand Sophie (and Hilde and every kid who receives this book as the gift of a concerned adult) serves as the willing receptacle of Alberto’s wisdom (perform your own deconstruction here), Gaarder has her question frequently the absence of women in philosophy. The only women thinkers accorded a paragraph or two here are beheaded French revolutionary Olympe de Gouges and Simone de Beauvoir. Sophie, nevertheless, seems more than willing to, well, man the barricades in their name.

Ongoing advertisements for environmental activism and world federalism via the United the Nations add to the novel’s liberal agenda–which is about where my enthusiasm ends. Gaarder’s well-measured conciliatory tone masks the rhetorical (and physical) violence philosophic discourse has generated over the past few thousand years, so don’t expect to find Foucault, Deleuze/Guattari, or Derrida–even Heidegger and Nietzsche earn s little as a paragraph each. As noted above, Gaarder holds no truck with the outlaw alternatives sold under the New Age and mysticism rubrics. “The difference between real philosophy and these books,” grumps Alberto, “is more or less the same as the difference between real love and pornography” (357). Do we detect an old-fashioned moralist in this dismissal? Gaarder, having stripped down the canon’s arguments to their leanest Western cuts, thereby ignoring Muslim or pagan can’t or won’t see philosophy’s manfully conceptualized recourses to faith, transcendence, and immanence as actually forming much of the spiritual bedrock for crystal worship or ufology.

At worst, Gaarder’s book is a philosophical Ikea, whose clean lines and slick marketing offer a one-size-fits-all coziness masking the bitter ideological rivalries and utter radicalism characterizes so much of the field’s history. On the other hand, any Sophie’s World reader inspired to further investigation will collide with all that soon enough, which suggests an even more provocative sequel.

The foil for Gaarder’s pedagogic fantasy is Sophie Amundsen, a spunky 14-year-old whose philosophic journey begins when a pair of timeless ontological posers–“Who are you?” and “Where does the world come from?”

 

–appear mysteriously in her mailbox. A follow-up envelope containing typewritten pages titled “What Is Philosophy?” (11) orient her on a correspondence course in the history of philosophy that eventually turns into a Socratic tutorial. Sophie’s enthusiasm shocks her mother, who attributes her newfound interest in the mysteries of life to the influence of drugs.

 

Nothing could be further from the truth (at least until the Kierkegaard chapter, when things do get a trifle psychedelic). Although Sophie’s tutor, Alberto Knox, grounds the philosopher’s project in maintaining a sense of wonder, his disquisition is clean and sober indeed. What keeps the novel moving are the tricks Gaarder plays with what we used to call the old r. and i.–reality and illusion. Sophie begins receiving postcards addressed from a United Nations observer in Lebanon to his own 15-year-old daughter, Hilde. As Sophie gradually becomes aware of her existence within a book (within a book (within a book)), the philosophical question gradually take on an existential tinge, embracing problems of determinacy and free will. While not nearly as highfalutin as such would-be popularizers as Umberto Eco, Susan Sontag, or Stephen Hawkins, it’s loads of fun in a cool, Scandinavian Alice-in-Wonderland fashion.

 

The book is for children of all ages, remember, so don’t expect detailed synopses of the world’s major philosophers, systems, or contexts. The risks Gaarder takes in the interests of simplicity and clarity definitely pay off, however. These include the translation of nearly all technical terms, the omission of the hundreds of titles that would otherwise clutter the book, and his emphasis on the echoing persistence of philosophical themes from the pre-Socratics (whose modernism is conveyed elegantly) to the existentialists Gaarder nutshells right before dropping a few gee-whiz notions about ecophilosophy and how star gazing constitutes a cosmic journey into the past (“Yes, we too are stardust” (392), croons Alberto).

 

Sophie’s World is a model of classic pedagogical technique packaged in most tasteful modernism. From the Socratic dialogues up to and including Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari’s ultimate collaboration (the perfect companion volume, their What Is Philosophy? tastefully packages chaos as classicism), philosophy has been intertwined with friendship, sharing, and equality. While on the one hand Sophie (and Hilde and every kid who receives this book as the gift of a concerned adult) serves as the willing receptacle of Alberto’s wisdom (perform your own deconstruction here), Gaarder has her question frequently the absence of women in philosophy. The only women thinkers accorded a paragraph or two here are beheaded French revolutionary Olympe de Gouges and Simone de Beauvoir. Sophie, nevertheless, seems more than willing to, well, man the barricades in their name.

 

Ongoing advertisements for environmental activism and world federalism via the United the Nations add to the novel’s liberal agenda–which is about where my enthusiasm ends. Gaarder’s well-measured conciliatory tone masks the rhetorical (and physical) violence philosophic discourse has generated over the past few thousand years, so don’t expect to find Foucault, Deleuze/Guattari, or Derrida–even Heidegger and Nietzsche earn s little as a paragraph each. As noted above, Gaarder holds no truck with the outlaw alternatives sold under the New Age and mysticism rubrics. “The difference between real philosophy and these books,” grumps Alberto, “is more or less the same as the difference between real love and pornography” (357). Do we detect an old-fashioned moralist in this dismissal? Gaarder, having stripped down the canon’s arguments to their leanest Western cuts, thereby ignoring Muslim or pagan can’t or won’t see philosophy’s manfully conceptualized recourses to faith, transcendence, and immanence as actually forming much of the spiritual bedrock for crystal worship or ufology.

 

At worst, Gaarder’s book is a philosophical Ikea, whose clean lines and slick marketing offer a one-size-fits-all coziness masking the bitter ideological rivalries and utter radicalism characterizes so much of the field’s history. On the other hand, any Sophie’s World reader inspired to further investigation will collide with all that soon enough, which suggests an even more provocative sequel.

Reading

6 Maret 2012

The Culture of reading must be increased. Reading is requirement for us. It’s the quotes about reading:

“A book is the only place in which you can examine a fragile thought without breaking it, or explore an explosive idea without fear it will go off in your face. It is one of the few havens remaining where a man’s mind can get both provocation and privacy.”  – Edward P. Morgan

“How my life has been brought to undiscovered lands, and how much richer it gets – all from words printed on a page…. How a book can have 560 pages, but in only three pages change the reader’s life.” – Emoke B’Racz, Writing in Malaprop’s Newsletter

“A good book is the best of friends, the same today and forever.” – Martin Tupper.

-the quotes I got from http://www.readfaster.com/readingquotes.asp-

Captain Corelli’s Mandolin Quotes

6 Maret 2012

When you fall in love, it is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake, and then it subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots are become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the desire to mate every second of the day. It is not lying awake at night imagining that he is kissing every part of your body. No… don’t blush. I am telling you some truths. For that is just being in love; which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over, when being in love has burned away. Doesn’t sound very exciting, does it? But it is!

“Ketika engkau jatuh cinta, itu adalah kegilaan sementara. Cinta meletus seperti gempa bumi, dan kemudian mereda. Dan ketika reda, engkau harus membuat keputusan. Engkau harus memastikan adakah akar-akar yang tumbuh terjalin dengan erat sehingga kau berfikir bahwa engkau berdua tak mungkin terpisahkan. Itulah yang disebut cinta. Cinta bukan mabuk kepayang, bukan gairah yang menggebu untuk bercinta setiap saat. Bukan berbaring di malam hari membayangkan dia menciumi setiap bagian tubuhmu. Bukan! Jangan tersinggung dengan kata-kataku. Aku menyampaikan kebenaran kepadamu. Itu hanya “asmara”, yang semua orang pernah merasakannya. Cinta itu sendiri adalah apa yang tersisa, ketika bahan bakar asmara telah terbakar habis. Ini tidak menarik bukan? Tapi ini benar!” (Captain Corelli’s Mandolin)

Hallo…!!!

4 Oktober 2011

Hello!  You can call me, El. I am like everyone else, have a dream. But everyone is also different and unique. My dream is doing the best in my life, whatever I’ll be. Will I be a writer? Will I be a dreamer? Above all, I’ll be myself in God’s destiny.

I live in an environment that does not support, I think. I walk in the silence street. Sometimes I find holes in the road. So, it makes me fall. But, I never give up. I try to rise up. Because, I know my daddy always in my side and God always. I believe, God. Somehow, He is seeing me in everywhere. Books is my best friend and Ferdinan too. I have many place to hide, I have comfortable place. I love my room. I love books.

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