The Art of Becoming Mediocre
Just like Chris Guillebeau’s saying of 11 steps of becoming average, this is my art of becoming mediocre. Everybody is just so busy being special, we set what mediocre means by our own standards. Yet, analytic psychologists believe that everyone is special, behavioral psychologists believe that we act in circles, they’d classify us into groups. What are we? Who tell us that we are special but the narcissistic brains of ours? To that, I’d say .. fuck you brain. I like simplicity, being mediocre is the best.
Everyone is dying for acknowledgement, some are dying for acceptance. Only those who have full stomach are dying to do those. Men who are hungry don’t need acknowledgement nor acceptance they need food. Through books, movies, music, we see ourselves as one special being who had accomplished into a dimension others had not. Is it possible that everyone is so goddamn special in their own way? Or what Syndrome said on The Pixar animation Incredibles, when everyone is super, there will be no super.
One slip from the shrink, and you’d believe that you have auditory schizophrenia even though you’ve been thinking otherwise for a very long time. One hit from a hot guy, and you’d believe that you’re equally hot. One kiss from a lover, and you’d know the kind of person you’d spend the rest of your life with. We are nothing but shallow, judgmental, narrow-minded, easily deceived, creatures. The more researches ignited, the clearer it is that we are all borderline monsters. Then why not be mediocre?
in memory of ER, a good fiend of mine, who taught me how to listen to good music, or I’d be clueless forever. Thank you for introducing me to Motown and how to read good compositions. I’d always remember the 19th of March 2009 conversation, late Thursday, 8 hours of musical enlightenment and how Mozart created the most complicated lines to complete his submission towards God. From now onward, all of my Alla Turcas will be dedicated to you. Forgive me, I’ve been an ass for quite sometimes, I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye. Nevertheless, this is quite a loss for me, phew. Journey well, dude. Finally you’re going home, when is my turn? :)
Bibah Ingin Pulang
Ini bukan si sophisticated beeba anak politik, bukan si lucu bob tukang melucu, atau si Biba anak lapangan basket yang kadang dipanggil Bibeh. ini si Bibah, anak desa Sariwangi yang cengkok Sundanya aneh. Ini si Bibah yang dipanggil neng Bibah, dia gak sophisticated, namanya aja Bibah. Ini si Bibah, biasanya dipanggil Bib’ah, dan dia ingin pulang.
Pulang kemana Bib? Pulang, ke tempat yang namanya rumah. Sayang gak ada bahasa Indonesia yang bisa mewakili kata home, adanya kata rumah, bata lapis semen terus di cat, itu rumah. Bibah pengen pulang. Pulang ke tempat yang dipakai merindu, rindu itu candu, kata Edgar.
Bibah bosan, cape sama rindu. Mau pulang, dari kecil kalau dijemput pulang sekolah aja pasti telat, sekarang mana yang jemput Bibah pulang? Bibah mau pulang, umi, abi, Bibah mau pulang ke rumah, ke home, tugasnya sudah habis, bell sudah bunyi. di kampus gak ada bell lagi, tapi Bibah tau, ini sudah waktunya pulang. Jadi Bibah ingin pulang.
Pulang ke sana, ke tempat yang Bibah pasti pernah kesana, tapi kayanya cuman sekali. Pulang, Bibah ingin pulang! Kalau Beeba dia gak bisa nulis pakai bahasa Indonesia, Beeba sombong, egois, brengsek, bikin marah Bibah. Apasih salahnya jadi sederhana? Atau si Bob, yang baik dan lucu, kerjanya melucu padahal hatinya sedih, kenapa sih kamu jahat sama dirimu sendiri Bob? Atau mungkin Biba//Bibeh, gadis kemayu sejati yang handal dalam menarik perhatian lawan jenis, apa kalian gak cape? Bibah marah, Bibah pengen pulang.
Bibah capek, teman-teman. Bibah tidak pandai menulis yang sastra-sastra, hanya anak desa Sariwangi biasa yang kadang jarang didengar. Jarang didengar karena suaranya ditelan si Beeba, si Bob, Si Biba//Bibeh. Mereka mah memesona, si Bibah mah gadis desa Sariwangi biasa yang suka pakai sendal kemana-mana. Bibah mah gadis desa Sariwangi biasa, yang matanya berbinar-binar kalau melihat rumah yang besar-besar. Subhanallah.
Bibah, pengen pulang, katanya di rumah disana ada Eyang uti lagi nyanyi lir-ilir, nanti Bibah bisa disisir yang Eyang Uti. Ada Agung sedang bangkis, bangkis yang keras, hatsyih! Bibah hanya ingin pulang, sederhana, ke rumah, bukan sarkofagus bata balut semen di-cat, tapi hangat, cahaya, wangi, disana wangi nasi baru matang. Ujung mata jadi gelap, tapi Bibah si gadis desa Sariwangi biasa ini harus menulis, menulis dengan sederhana, biar ada bekas kalau Bibah juga ada kok. Bukan Beeba, bukan Bob, bukan Biba//Bibeh. Mereka sih pintar-pintar, bisa tulis jurnal, bisa tulis harian, bisa melucu. Bibah mah si gadis desa Sariwangi biasa, cengkok sundanya aja aneh, sukanya duduk-duduk dibelai angin.
Bibah sudah tak ingin disini lagi. Hiruk pikuk, berisik, kasihan dong Bibah pemalu, penikmat sunyi sepi sendiri. Nanti di rumah, ada siapa? Tak ada siapa-siapa, hanya Dia sendiri saja. Jemput Bibah dong, Bibah ingin pulang.
Introverts and International Relations
I want to write two things (I had a hard time deciding which one to do first, but this one stuck in my head so I need to let it all out), both are pretty much self-contemplation related matters. But I’ve decided to write this one first because I was highly inspired by the book Susan Cain wrote, on how to survive as an introvert. I found it highly interesting to talk about us, humans, because this brains of ours apparently love talking about itself more than anything. Today, i am going with Introverted people, introverts, like me. Even though Carl Jung, the psychologist who popularized the terms said himself that there is no pure introverts and pure extroverts, if so a man could be trapped in a mental asylum for being a pure introvert or extrovert.
Being an introvert while studying international affairs is one problematic cause, maybe unlike engineers or students who choose the path of exact science who could cogitate on their own, students of International affairs or international relations have extroverted syllabus, the syllabus itself expect us to mingle and connect with other people, to work in groups and all the things we, introverts, know that they are not our strongest hook. I found it very hard for me, especially in classes such as diplomacy or the ones which have conflict settlement simulations, to be an introvert because those classes require a person who is not myself. At times, I feel like I don’t belong in International relations. I believe this ‘don’t belong’ feeling shared mutually by many other students who partake social studies class yet have the introverted trait. I could not blame you either if you started to think that there is something seriously wrong with yourself, because you’re an introvert and to be bold is not your thing. Moreover, these feelings might haunt you for the rest of your study, being highly inferior to the extroverts who could ‘control’ the class with their charming upbringing and charisma. Demotivated, down, and i bet there always a glimpse of desire to born differently. You’d wish that you were born far more exciting/bold/expressive from the beginning with.
The images and brands created by employers for us future graduates give the sense that ’ we must be able to take control, lead, be charismatic, and so on ’ .. therefore most introverts would think that they were not meant to be here, the industry of ‘self-help-books’ boomed .. the titles would go for ‘how to defeat the crowd’ or ‘how to be liked by co-workers’, ’ how to be charming’ forcing the introverts to repel their traits as if what we were is such a bad thing. Introverts NEED to change, because they HAVE to, they MUST succumb. These testing systems, the FGDs the leadership tests are all designed for extroverts. Thus resulting a world which is specially designed for extroverts. and For that .. I’d say bullshit. Introverts and extroverts must have the same opportunities to embrace who they truly are.
There is nothing wrong in loving the silence, there is nothing wrong with contemplating every now and then, there is most definitely nothing wrong with liking to work on your own. Gandhi, Einstein, Jane Austen are described as shy, conformed.. they are introverts, and they let their works speak the words they cannot say for being shy. They let what they believe in sparks inside of other people head without the urge of being in control. Introverts too can survive, if people starting to understand characters beyond standardized requirements.
Extroverts are the ‘ideal’ people, some might say. People have higher tendency to love the upbringing of someone instead of actually listening towards what they have to say. It’s a preference, a preference which drown the introverts down. but sad no more, because these two traits they are beautiful as it is. None of them classified to be ideal, because both of them are perfectly fine. They are just variations in live, which could only mean one thing: they need each others. Just like the existence of men and women compliment each others. Men are not better neither women, these differences were only meant to strengthen our society not the other way around. But, my favorite saying goes to Newton who said ” An object is only as strong as its weakest point.” It makes sense, and totally applicable to almost everything, this ‘strong’ trait of introversion and extroversion had also become a weak point because of preference and the mainstreaming of the ‘ideal’ kind of people must be extroverts.
What’s left out there for us introverts? Do we have as much opportunities as extroverts in the curriculum which requires us to be extroverts?
Maybe, the first realization goes to .. accepting this beautiful trait of ours. The world that rumbles inside can be as interesting as the world which is happening on the outside world, and nobody can take away that world from us. I realize that this is not a disability .. because of this trait of mine I could contemplate into a level which some people are too busy talking about instead of wandering about. This imagination of mine is wild, we are not the artsy-kids, we are not designers .. but have you noticed something? International relations, international affairs, international politics are art. A different kind of art, where words are our paint and brush, but we are not poet nor novelist either .. the imagination which lays inside of our head must be able to solve what’s going on out there, it must figure out, analyze, and see it with different perspectives. We, introverts, do belong in here as much as any extroverts are.
therefore, I found it hard to accept, yet I repeat this sentence just to make myself feel fine. (usually low-self-esteem comes hand-in-hand with being introverts, it’s a lethal package, eh?)
I am perfectly fine, I was not born out of place, and I belong in here, just like everybody else belong in International relations. I will do good, I will be good.
and so will you, my introverted fellows <3
Now follow as we ride. Motherfuck the rest, two of the best from the West side
I Hope You Don’t Mind, I Hope You Don’t Mind .. That I Put Down in Words
This one will be written beautifully because you, mister, worth my writer’s sweat, not literal sweat, that would be gross, what I meant is the effort to write something beautifully.
Let’s start this work of art with a little bit of a joke? I like jokes, so do you. So do most people. Here it goes: Dating a writer is awesome don’t you think? You’d be like, “man, you’re full of words, but no action whatsoever,” oh, well I write for a living, therefore if I write bunch of words it’s also part of my action, I am knocking two birds with one stone *bam*. Knocking two birds with one stone, I am starting to feel like David. Maybe in this love story I am David (but no, unlike David I am highly monogamous), and the relationship is known as Goliath, a big ass scary giant-king who will rip your body into two and wear them as gloves. I feel so small, but with Divine intervention I knocked over Goliath and be the king instead. Thank God, David got Divine intervention, unlike Prince Oberyn, he was rather unlucky.
See what I did there? I failed to write something beautifully, just like I failed in our relationship. I am not knocking two birds with one stone, if the relationship were the mountain I’d be dead already with my eyes popped out of my skull.
The joke ends here. Roger that, darling.
I am not good in literature, I am an academic writer. Journals are my best-friends, professors are my polar, and writing is my dance. Final dance, between you and me. Do you know that when you speak with a man, use their mother-tongue to reach their heart, but use another language to speak to his mind? This is a dance, between our minds, my words that will go straight to that grey matter of yours. Hello there, gorgeous, this is me intoxicating you with delightful words, no you don’t need praises. Men know the kind of praises and trophies they wanted to celebrate over their victory but that is not something that will get you through the night. You said that what fascinates you the most is the way my brain works .. here, I will truly, give it to you the secret to my mind .. a locked space, I have never opened for anyone.
I am weak.
I am weary.
I am needy.
Basically, I am a girl (well, truthfully I am a girl). And if any of my femininity, paranoia, and tardiness annoy you .. I am a whole package of girliness. That’s not even a word, but I made it up. The way you like to made words up. I am lying naked, with shattered defense, begging you at your feet hoping for a glimpse of light .. a light that will guide me. Into a place where it’s safe to be a girl, it’s safe to be weak, it’s safe to be weary, it’s safe to be needy. It’s in your fortress, I get to be who I am. And truth be told, that is my reason why I remove my armors and leave my weapons outside of your fortress. We’re fighters, you and I. Keeping us in one cage is one helluva job, that God of ours, He wants to see the best versions of us with this. and so He did.
The coast is clear, but not my hopes. My hopes rest safely inside of my soul. It will not rest, it will not be weak, weary, and needy .. it will not be tired, will not break .. when it comes to loving you. The world goes on and on, and both of us remain fighters. Will I be under your protection? or will I be your banner-man, fighting next to you? Either way, when you are still part of the equation … I am grateful.
My life is to live, to live is to love, to love is to give, to give is to serve.
I am alive. more than anything.
How wonderful life is while you’re in the world :)
(this is your
Q:pengen tau pandangan personal kamu sama komunisme sebagai cara alternatif dong. Saya liat kamu nge-follow juga beberapa akun komunis di tumblr.
sebenarnya lebih asik ngomong sama pasangan saya soalnya dia komunis by blood, dan PKI descendants gitu. Kalo buat saya pribadi, saya bukan kiri, bukan kanan juga, hanya pengamat yang antusias atas keberadaan sekarang. Jadi seandainya ada diskriminasi atas komunisme di Indonesia, saya sangat tidak setuju. Karena sama seperti semua bentuk political ideology, communism is one of them. Tapi semua orang disini pasti bilang komunis dengan sentimen mereka tentang apa yang mereka gak tau. Padahal seandainya mereka baca-baca apa sih yang Marx atau Engels mau .. mereka mungkin bisa melihat upaya sekelompok manusia membuat suatu keadaan yang lebih baik menggunakan cara revolusi. Gak ada bedanya ko sama liberalis (cuman ya ga pake revolusi aja mereka dan lebih bisa diterima keadaan sekarang) ..
waktu itu aku pernah ikut seminar tentang salah satu masalah di Indonesia adalah tidak adanya kreatifitas politik yang cukup kentara dikarenakan penghapusan partai kiri. Bahkan disini partai buruh pun yang ada masuk ke PDIP dan impacts-nya ga terlalu besar, jadi cabe-cabean aja seperti partai-partai lain. aku baru tahu kreatifitas politik itu penting disitu, karena menciptakan atmosphere dimana all philosophical ideas bertemu dan tujuan utama mereka bukan untuk menjatuhkan satu sama lain tapi untuk strengthen the arguments and core values satu sama lain. Jadi mungkin kita butuh komunisme/sosialisme lagi, untuk jadi pengikat ide-ide lain dan tantalizing them.
this country has many socialists/communists founding fathers (Tan Malaka, Sjahrir, Soekarno, etc), their policies in the past are left oriented because .. it suits us. kita ini dibesarkan dalam naungan kiri loh, kenapa kita jadi benci kiri? zzzz
we need communism just as much as we need any other political ideologies. (semoga saya gak hilang diculik Tjakrabirawa gara-gara ngomong kaya gini :p)
udah gitu aja sih .. <3 salam internationale
Q:Kak beeba, bentar lagi aku bakal jadi anak kost nih, kak.. Ada tips dan trik kah biar ga homesick banget dan bisa survive kehidupan keras kota lain? :(
I talk to my parents often. (hehe, karena aku deket sama mereka juga sih)
I gather with fellow anak-anak rantau, walau beda tempat aku tau ko kalo mereka juga ngerti sama apa yang aku rasain :) jadi being friends with them, keluar bareng mereka .. life feels pretty good.
I let myself be me. I let the tough world hit me hard, cry my eyes out, ini hanya masa orientasi, sayang. Masa orientasi dari dunia ini, buat kita yang bakal ngehadepin sesuatu yang lebih keras lagi *jeng jeng jeng*
tapi, biar gak terbawa sama senang yang kelewat senang dan sedih yang kelewat sedih .. mungkin yang paling sering aku bilang ke diriku sendiri kalo lagi disini, yaitu ..
" this too shall pass"
selamat nge-kost, have fun, selamat kuliah juga <3
firstly based on how rare I write, I can clearly declare that Habibah had become an utilitarian who does not want to write unless she got paid for it or graded for it or it has anything to do with university. Which is sad, because I use to write from my heart (awwh, *puke) .. I hate how cluttered I am right now even with my words. I am way too opportunistic and I crave for rewards as if the fact that my silent readers could be reading this is not ‘rewarding’ enough as it used to be (students-syndrome?).
Have I been too exposed to commercialization of journals and writing? Maybe I just got jealous with the fact that Dura got paid for his papers, while here I am doing freebies for my tumblog (yay, envious thy art a monster) .. but then again, just like the sun, this beautiful brain of mine cannot be stopped from wandering off, this time it’s a bit off its orbit because I think I have written something similar with this (a while ago) .. but i came up with this again when I am pondering about what kind of person am I? And I came up with it during my International Political Economy exam, it was mad, I was like “one thought at a time, brain.” Because my head was full of random ideas all at once, and even though I’ve trained my brain from not bursting out random ideas when it’s not necessary to do so, it keeps on doing that .. so yay brain (?)
then my brain recalled what I have written few months ago, to live is to love, to love is to give, to give is to serve. Here I am, a servant, serving God, my world, the hauntingly beautiful world of academics, my family, people whom I love .. i guess, being a servant had always been denoted into something less honorable, whilst actually archbishop is a servant of God and a leader is a servant of his/her people. Maybe, the word goes for menial kind of job, because the true meaning of it had been misplaced, misused, or even overly used.
Honestly, I’ve been seeing endless arrogance by many people. I see them, and I see how that arrogance and ambitions did bring them into triumph. With watery eyes, after endless nights of tears and that inept feeling, I could not help to want what they have. Not what they ‘have’ as in the material, but what they have as in the guts, the ambitions, and a spoonful of arrogance. And here I am, at the bottom of the food chain, nowhere close to triumph. In the case where I am losing what I am believing in (yes, been having that crisis for quite sometime, it’s been a month now; the first time this crippling sense of losing happened early June? End of May? after I heard endless heartbreaking news) My life and its philosophical beliefs seemed meaningless and obsolete compared to others. Or even so it’s not obsolete, what I believe in will not keep me up in this race, which humans anointed as the human-race. Endless competitions to build up an economic kingdom where one can sell ‘themselves’ with those soul sucking CV, giving themselves respectable ‘price’.
What am I? I cannot be sold, I have no bargaining position in this matter, no academical merits that could glorify myself. but then again I don’t want to be sold like pack of sleigh-dogs, I want to be me. yes, an individual with a remarkable character (well, sue me, I know that I have a remarkable character :p) .. I want to let ‘me’ live, in this crazy-ass race. Apparently, my senses are dull and they are dead, blinded by hubris (oh, how one bad trait could blinded your whole senses) how could I not see what I really am or what am I made of .. not to see what I have as a disadvantage but rather an advantage that this fragile heart of mine was made to love, I love loving, and to love is to give, and to give is to serve. I am a servant. It took me quite sometime to realize that the only thing that is killing us, the world, is because in the cycle-of-serving, some chose to serve no-one but themselves. it became a glitch in the system, as it differentiated us from animals.
Let me try this once more, let me serve and hope for nothing in return. I’ve been asking way too much rewards for something so rewarding to begin with. I’ve been surrounded by something who repels me from my own skin. Let me serve the world, serviam.
let me begin my days with something so simple, yet so rare in this crazy time (unless you’re calling phone-service)
How can I help you, today?
hello, meet Habibah Hermanadi, finally, she did a research and contribute an International Journal. FINALLY I’VE PUBLISHED SOMETHING.
it’s not a novel (like I always thought I’d publish)
it’s not a fiction
aiasnoiajfoajdoias, cloud 9, so happy :3
The Best Kind of People
Hopefully, I’d finish what I started and actually write something.
The phrase ” behind every great man there is a great woman” is controversial, lots of feminist would emphasize the role of women behind of men, lots of them will curse over the fact that women can only support not lead, I see it differently. I do not translate the phrase word-per-word, personally, it means .. behind every great person, there is a great person who supports them. A person behind the curtains, who usually has less credit.
I have seen many of those people, behind the curtains, mostly they come in the form of wives, best friends, parents. I have talked to them and see them happily have no sense of collecting debt over the people they’d support to reach their triumph. There is a calling inside of them which leads them into it. I see them as the best kind of people.
As it is written in the A Return of Love, by Marianne Williamson
And as we let our own light shine,
We unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we’re liberated from our own fear,
Our presence automatically liberates others
I have read enough psychology books to understand that the need of social interaction among humans does not stop in the need of having their presence and socializing through words. If we are wise enough to control ourselves, then we are going to be wise enough to let others shine. In the book of “Social Intelligence” there is a form of intangible interaction using electromagnetic waves among our brains to connect with each others. Some people who have troubles at making connections usually have unusual waves. Do any of you have heard the story of ‘the lonely whale’? It is a story about a female whale who never mates as her voice (waves) when she sings is lower few decibels from normal whales. Therefore, other whales could not translate her songs. Apparently, we have something similar within us, as mammals.
What we see from the poem and from the phrase above is that .. there is something within us that could be used to fuel others. Things that change within ourselves will affect people around us. Every time we conquer our fear, be happy, move forward yet our actions are not egoistical based actions we let others to do the same with their lives. How can I relate these 3 different yet similar things into one comprehensive writing?
Well, I really hate using technical words, because this one is supposedly be fun. I feel like the best kind of people bring the best of other people. The best kind of people educate, support, help. Things we are so blinded to see because we are so full of ourselves. Best kind of people bring the best out of his/herself and let others burst out of their cocoons too.
The best kind of people are the ones who:
don’t mind (about others disadvantages and quirks)
don’t count (others fortune and their own good deeds)
don’t judge (over what they heard and everyone’s history)
The best kind of people are sincere and truthful.
Those adjectives I’ve written on the early writings are hard adjectives to apply, however, they are not impossible.I see in myself I can found several of those adjectives compatible with me, One down, few more to go.
I want to be that kind of people. I don’t care whether I am extrovert nor introvert, whether I am a woman or a man. The question is where do I start? I want to lit other candles, but first I must lit mine.
And finally, I’ve finished a casual writing. I am proud of myself. I don’t see it as a waste of time, I don’t compare my time with the fact that I could use these fingers to work on my university chores, yay! :)
Let me be the fuel to your engine, your number one fan, and your eternal supporter :) I am happy to do so
At best, religions have inspired some of the greatest music, literature and art in history, and provided a mytho-poetic framework for our finest ideals, hopes and values. At their worst, religions have been used to excuse the most vicious aspects of human nature, legitimising persecution, genocide, slavery and war. When religions embody immorality and irrationality, they must be open to criticism.
A Glorious World Peace = Gembul
Posting ini dibuat sesuai dengan janji saya kepada mas Dewangga Dura Dematar di kelas Peace Studies, dia bilang
" promise me Bob, kamu bakal nulis di tumblr-mu bahwa gembul leads to world peace."
and a Hermanadi will always fulfill her promise. Here it goes, analisis dasar mengapa kegembulan akan membawa kita semua menuju world peace.
Lupakan semua realism, liberalism, constructivism dan tetek bengek lainnya yang suka menomor duakan hati nurani dan mengedepankan teori-teori hasil pemikiran Eropa. Cukup pikirkan sapi-sapi gembul harvest moon yang membuat hati adem ayem, bahagia seadanya, sapi-sapi itu mahal dan gembul, kalo tewas di harvest moon pasti langsung sedih bingit.
moo aku lucu dan menggemazkan, Hezbollah aja suka aku
Apasih yang manusia mau? Aggresi terjadi karena keinginan-keinginan yang ga tersampaikan kan? Sesungguh-sungguhnya pasti manusia itu cuman mau mamam dan mamam dan memamah biak, memamah-mamah. Coba doi liat di dunia-nya wall-e ga ada tuh yang namanya konflik-konflik perang antar suku atau apapun, kenapa? karena semua orang udah jadi gembul dan lucu.
the perfect kind of peace. Peace bukan the absence of terror, but the elimination of desire to terrorize karena badan menggembul
Apaan lah Galtung/Barash/Gandhi dan semua hippies lainnya yang ngerasa bahwa non-violence itu adalah di answer. Salah banget tau ga, what’s the answer for peace? ga usah ribet: Cheeseburger is the answer. Gak tau kenapa meme kucing gembul yang bilang I can haz cheezeburger sukses bikin bahagia walau sesaat, ga peduli hujan badai gelap sedih muram durja .. kucing gendut bilang I can haz cheezeburger is all it takes to cheer somoene’s up. Buat apa ribet politicking kalo ada kucing gendut yang minta dikasih mamam cheezeburger hah?
Di dunia ini banyak environmentalist yang ngeroko dan masih pake hairdryer, masih mandi pake air panas .. masih sok-sokan setengah hati. Wajar aja ko, mereka juga masih manusia, masih mencari kenyamanan. Masih banyak non-violence hippies yang ngebunuh nyamuk kalo digigit, nginjek rumput, dan makan seldri padahal seledri juga berjiwa besar … sebisa mungkin kalo ga mau melukai mahluk hidup makan lah tanah. Karena mikro-mikro thingies yang ada di tanah akan tetap hidup di perut anda …
Maka kalo mau jadi peacekeeper yang ga bohongan setengah-setengah .. jadilah gembul. Requirementnya ga susah ko, cuman mamam doang seadanya. Lalu ga bakal ada lagi lah yang namanya rise of fascism, gimana mau fascist kalo semua orang menjadi gembul dan lucu kaya sapi-sapi harvestmoon? pasti doi juga ga tega kan nembaknya? ya ga?
udah deh, peace achieved. Ga usah pake kaya orang-orang Budru marching peacefully, kaya Gandhi dan ahimsa .. no no no , kalo pun mau marching .. marching lah ke Mcdonald, pelopor kegembulan numero uno, disusul dengan KFC. ya Alloh ayam KFC nagih banget apalagi di ujung jalan kaliurang ada KFC yang cerobong asepnya ngeluarin wangi ayam original yang … seeetdaahh buat anak kuliahan kaya wangin surga. sederhanaaa banget. Hati jadi peaceful ga ada niatan buruk …
itu lah step-step menuju world peace.
semoga bisa terealisasikan …
ini pusheen, doi kucing gembul kesukaan gue. Dia yang bikin gue percaya bahwa di dalam segala kegembulan ini ada secercah kebijaksaanan yang tidak semu dan bisa dinikmati umat manusia. Maka dari itu gue ga pernah diet-diet-an lagi; toh gue udah berkontribusi terhadap perdamaian dunia, terus apa lagi coba yang dicari?
for me Divine Intervention is enough :))
- Beeba: what is the most important thing I should remember as a whip?
- Jonathan: Besides prayer?
- Beeba: besides Divine intervention ... hmmm
- apparently I rely on Divine's blessing for almost every of my debates, I dont have skill, I have Divine intervention on my side