Babymetal

One item on the bucket list ticked–hearing Road of Resistance live. And I was in its infamous Wall of Death to boot and had lived to tell the tale.

Despite how innocuous this band looks, Babymetal play some of the absolute heaviest, brutalest metal ever concocted by any mortal. The breakdown in Iine! has got to rank up there with Trivium’s Dusk Dismantled and Pantera’s Domination. Nasty, brutish, pure evil.

Next on the list–Ghost. Because Tobias Forge is nothing short of a genius, the Beethoven of our time.

Suyash

On my deathbed, I’d regret letting true friendships to atrophy over time.

I’d only known Suyash for one year (he came to Oxford from Bucknell as a visiting student), but we were close as any brothers you ever knew.

History

I’m now a proud custodian of these three important records of Mansfield College history–Mansfield College, Its Origin and Opening by Robert William Dale et al. (1889), The Life of Andrew Martin Fairbairn by William Boothby Selbie (1914) and Mansfield College, Oxford: Its Origin, History and Significance by Dr Elaine Kaye (1996).

There’s something reassuringly immutable about words printed on paper. The specter of an Orwellian revisionist hell runs heavy at the back of my mind.

Addendum 03/03/23–it happened.

The Prophet

With the statue of Isaac Newton at Trinity College, Cambridge, circa 1998

God speaks to humanity through selected people; some call them prophets. He endows prophets with the capacity to decipher the knowledge that he wants to channel to. To pursue the truth is thus the purest and the noblest of the man’s undertaking, the servitude to the purpose of the divine. For you, a prophet, are the chosen vessel of untinctured wisdom, through which God is speaking to humankind.

Newton was a prophet.

Mayday 1997

Last week I had happened to watch Shadowlands–the story of C.S. Lewis and his wife Joy Gresham with the backdrop of Oxford in the 1940’s.

The movie was released in 1993, and so it predated my arrival at Oxford by merely six years. The views were, of course, strikingly familiar to that of memory. Lewis was a don at Magdalen College; I had the privilege of visiting it a couple of times due to my friendship with Ernest Lee.

On Magdalen bridge.

The Magdalen Tower was perhaps a permanent fixture of my years at Oxford; I had to cross the Magdalen Bridge a couple of times a day on the way to college and back to my abode on Cowley Road and Dawson Street. I’d remember waking up in the wee hours of the first day of May in 1997, walked to the bridge, joined my friends (and thousands of others) to hear the choristers singing from the Tower at six in the morning. Ending which, the madness began where the mayday revelers would go delirious with some jumping off the bridge into the Isis. I remembered a young man (Scottish, presumably) who flipped his kilt, mooned everyone and took off into the muddy river.

I would have forgotten that if it wasn’t for the movie–which depicted similar shenanigans as witnessed by C.S. Lewis. It was one of the things that made Oxford Oxford, I suppose. Maybe I’d get to relive this experience again, watching the sun rise on Isis serenaded by the Magdalen College School choirboys, marking the first day of summer in the northern hemisphere.

Addendum: Found out in the Wikipedia entry for May Morning that someone ended up paralyzed in 1997 from jumping into the river. I wonder if it was that Scottish fellow.

Life in Oxford Circa 1997

Found a newspaper cutting that I had saved since 1997:

It was an article written by Tan Soo Chuen which I had republished here on my blog.

Here’s another picture, taken after a friendly footie match with Cambridge University’s Malaysia & Singapore Society:

And yes, that’s Khairy Jamaluddin in the middle of the picture in case one is wondering.