“Every choice has consequences.” We’re taught that from the moment we can barely grasp the meaning of that statement. As you get older, it’s easier to understand in real-life terms; if you study hard, you do well on a test. If you break your mom’s favorite china, you get punished. If you tell on your older siblings/relatives, they don’t want to have you around them. By the time we’re adults or at the very least, adolescents, this formula is firmly wired into our brains. Choice + Action = Reward (or Punishment). You do something good, you get rewarded for it. You do something bad, you get punished. But what happens when that’s not always the case? Continue reading
I took loads of math tests in high school. At a minimum of two each term, three terms in a session, six sessions spent in high school, a conservative estimate would be 36 tests, not counting end-of-term exams, random quizzes and the like. One particular test stands out for me, not because of my score (quite frankly, I don’t even remember how I did), but because of what happened after we got our graded tests back.
One of my classmates was going through his when he came across a question he had gotten wrong. Now this would be fine, except… he noticed that another classmate had written the same answer, and the teacher had marked it as correct. So he took both test papers to the teacher at the front of the class to say “Excuse me, you made a mistake. We both wrote the same thing, and you marked it as wrong on mine, but as right on his.” Again, this wasn’t unusual. Teachers made those mistakes from time to time. However, it turned out that the answer they both wrote was indeed the wrong answer. Continue reading
After all, “there’s no point in living, if you can’t feel alive.” Isn’t that right Elektra, isn’t that your motto?
– Pierce Brosnan as James Bond
(The World Is Not Enough)
I still remember the day my family got its first VCD player (google that you youngins). We still had our VHS player (again, google that lol), and our CD Player (some three-disc-changing monstrosity with incredible speakers) wasn’t even that old. I think my mom’s brother came back from Alaba market with it, and I remember my first reaction being surprise at how small it was. In my young mind, if a CD player was that big, then a VCD player had to be even bigger. It wasn’t, but at least it also accepted 3 VCD’s at a time, which worked out well for us, since the first film we played on it was The Odyssey. If I remember correctly, the very first VCD’s my family owned were The Lion King, The Odyssey, and… The World Is Not Enough.