Well... It's been a more than a month since I visited this place... I've been thinking about moving back to tabulas or some new blog hosting thing...
I'm not really up for posting a rant blog entry today... so I'll save my "Moving Back to Tabulas" story for later and keep this post all about a cute and cuddly Panda...
Anyways... been addicted to Frozen Throne's Defender of the Ancients for a couple of months now... and just like how I loved playing Chen Stormstout: Pandaren Brew Master in Frozen Throne... I've been loving Mangix: Pandaren Battle Master for most of the couple long hours play of DoTa...
I know some of you guys already miss me in our DoTa sessions... just been a little busy with RAN lately... and I know you might be saying... WTF it's been a month since you last played with us in DoTA dude... this post is waaaaaaaaaaaay delayed... well... this has been on my drafts for months now... so there...
Here's a little info on the Pandaren...
Pandaren Society
Pandaren society has changed from its origins. Where once the pandaren were a mighty empire, standing proud beside their night elf allies, now they are a simple people who want only peace and a safe home. Yet the world is a dangerous place, and only through an acceptance of the violence that comes with life can the pandaren continue to prosper.
Pandaren society is, in many ways, compartmentalized. At their core, the pandaren treasure peace and creativity. Most pandaren are poets and singers, and the craftsmen of their culture are truly revered. The danger of their lives, however, has necessitated the evolution of a class of warriors to defend those ideals - it is these warriors, from the simplest pikeman to the great shodopans, who ensure that pandaren culture survives.
Even the lowliest pandaren is capable of defending himself, using the fangs and stubby but needle-like claws that are a natural part of his body. All pandaren can use these natural weapons to fight and hunt, as pandaren grow up playing rough and tumble games meant to hone their abilities while learning the admonishments of their elders that such things are a lastresort. In general, pandaren prefer to use the weapons they craft, feeling that their natural weapons hearken back to a primal time.
Pandaren are bipedal creatures, but their pseudo-ursine forms allow them to move at tremendous speed on four limbs. When a pandaren drops down to all fours, his speed increases greatly. He must have nothing in his hands to use quadrupedal movement.
The Pandaren are the smallest of the bestial races and seem positively tiny next to the hulking bulk of the Furbolgs. However, they seem much less like beasts than their apparent cousins. They value honor, discipline and friendship above all else. Gain the companionship and trust of a Pandaren, they say, and you have a friend and protector for life.
Like the furbolgs, Tauren and Wildhammer Dwarves, the Pandaren follow a shamanistic faith, worshipping the Earth Mother and giving passage to their dead. They are true geomancers, drawing their holy power directly from the Earth Mother. They also follow a new philosophy (new to the other residents of Kalimdor, of course); they are a society that reacts, instead of acting first. They claim to be the water that flows around a rock: The water does not push the rock out of the way, it merely goes around it. They use this uncomplicated way of thinking in their everyday life. If they set their minds to a task, and they fail, then they believe they went about it the wrong way and try again. They do not mourn for failures, believing that they simply have mapped out improper ways to do things and they will know better next time. This philosophy seems simple, but the pandaren apply it to every aspect of their lives, from brewing beer to adventuring. They are calm, affable types who will extend the hand of friendship to a stranger on the road - but if the stranger is hostile, the hand of friendship can quickly turn into an excruciating joint lock.
What may surprise those who encounter the pandaren most, however, is their unabashed love for beer. Most religious and meditative people on Kalimdor consider alcohol a drink for the masses, a drink whose properties cloud the mind and block contemplation of the gods. The Pandaren laugh at this notion. The ideal day for a Pandaren begins with meditation and ends with a good drink with a better friend. They love encountering folk who live life to the fullest; they enjoy adventuring; and they are happiest in a tavern swapping stories and buying rounds for the house. Those lucky enough to meet a Pandaren and share in his ale will undoubtedly find it to be the best beer they have ever tasted. The down side to this, of course, is that they will no longer enjoy Kalimdor-brewed beer as much.
They take the same stance regarding their martial arts as they do every other part of their lives. They use what works, perfecting it with terrifying results, and they don't use what doesn't work. If an injured leg won't allow the pandaren to kick very high, he gives up that kind of kick and perfects another. If up against a massive opponent, the Pandaren will not waste time trying to match strength with strength, as the opponent represents the rock in the river to them. They find a clever way to best their opponent while expending the least strength necessary. They are formidable monks, following their philosophies to the letter and perfecting their martial arts as they see fit.
Note: Pandaren philosophy points indirectly at the Chinese martial Tai-Chi, because of its soft gental nature and powerful attacks. It also is a style that tries not to hurt the opponent, just disarm them. Because Pandarens do not join sides or choose to hurt anybody (thats why they stay a neutral race) which is the same as Tai-Chi. The style also shows the same philosphy as the Pandarens religion.
Actually... I placed all that long and boring geeky stuff hoping that people would be bored enough to skip this post and read something else...
[sigh]... well enough about my fantasy world... meanwhile... in real life... been bombarded with a couple of self-depreciating low-downs... and I've been thinking... from now on... I will adhere to the Pandaren way of life... I will no longer dwell in the 'what-could-have-beens'... i will no longer fall into the depths of 'wallow-in-self-pity'... but instead... like the Pandarens, I will no longer have regrets... which is something I seems to be collecting a alot like cobwebs in the past year...
F*ck-it... I'm ready to leave Panderia and explore the world... learn new crafts and enjoy life like a mug of ale...
At the heart of the Buddha’s teaching is the path of moderation leading, through one’s own actions, to enlightenment. What one does, not what one believes, is important. The Buddha came to an understanding of the nature of existence and developed a core of behavior for us to practice in order to perceive reality clearly and find equanimity through detachment. The Buddha is quoted to have said "Let not your gaze be too distant nor too near; see things as they are and be consoled."
1st Noble Truth
Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger; anger leads to hate; hate leads to suffering. ~Yoda
2nd Noble Truth
Life and love are life and love, a bunch of violets is a bunch of violets, and to drag in the idea of point is to ruin everything. Live and let live, love and let love, flower and fade, and follow the natural curve which flows on, pointless. ~D.H. Lawrence
3rd Noble Truth
And the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time. ~T. S. Eliot
4th Noble Truth
Ten thousand flowers in spring the moon in autumn, a cool breeze in summer, snow in winter. If your mind isn’t clouded by unnecessary things, this is the best season of your life. ~Wun-Men
Sooooo based from these Four Noble Truths of Buddha's teachings... The guy below and I have achieved nirvana...
Did I miss out on anything or is attaining the state of nirvana makes one feel numb?
I don't know why I should write about this as if I even know what I'm going to write in the first place. I guess I don't care I'll go ahead anyway.
I wrote this because I'm numb. And I'm wishing I can laugh, if not cry, after writing this down. See, it's not easy to write when you can't feel anything. I wish I could tell you, how it is. But there's really nothing to say about nothing. There's nothing peculiar or even special about nothing. It's just pointless to try to describe nothing. After all, nothing is meaningless.
I wish I'm gripped with fear and racked by confusion so I could tell you how it is to be utterly lost and helpless. I wish I had erred and am all too proud to admit and apologize so I could tell you how it is to be arrogant and unyielding. I wish I could be thrilled with suspense in my own devilry and chuckle afterwards at my mischief. I wish I could be impassioned that I would wage wars in the name of religion and righteousness. I wish I could be encouraged and believing so I could move mountains by faith. I wish I could drown myself in sorrow so I could say I want to fly away tonight. I wish I could long for something, for anything, for anything at all with a yearning so powerful as loving deeply.
This way I could write powerful words and make you feel how I feel. And make you realize how grand it is to be human, to feel too much and live completely. To laugh and to plead, to rage and to hope for impossible things. To embrace and to despise. To dream of things and to wait for something that will never happen. To trust and to betray. To toast, to boast, to be humbled, to feel wronged, to be guilt-stricken, to be marked for life. But right now, I can only make you feel how it is to be a rock resting on a carpet against my feet, or a telephone that doesn't ring in front of me or an empty can of soda on my office table or an ambiguous digit blinking on my machine, or a mindless tune playing over and over inside my head. That's how it is.
I guess numbness happens a long while after feeling too much as if you owned the monopoly of the world’s emotions and cared about it too much but now you won’t care anymore. I guess it just happens as if you really have the right to be insensitive when you never fought for anything—for something good, or for a glorious cause—once in your life but you just shrugged and won’t care anyway. I guess it happens because you know you’re selfish and you never looked past yourself but you don’t care anyway. I guess it happens when you stop caring at all.
And you know it happened when you wake up after a long slumber only to go to sleep again. You know it happened when you know what time it is but not even that seem to matter anymore. It happened everyday when you would smile without intending. It happened one night when you write about it, endlessly crossing out words only to rewrite them but they would always fail to mean anything. It happened one night when you write far too many words about nothing when only nothing best describes nothing. And you know it happened when you start to remember.
It happened when you recall how new bed sheets felt under your skin while you slept. It happened when you recall waking up to the scent of hot chocolate and freshly baked bread with sweet Christmas carols on the radio and gifts under the Christmas tree. It happened when you recall how it felt when a stranger put a blanket over you while you slept. It happened when you recall how a first kiss felt, and a first dance, and a first quarrel, and a first love. It happened just when you look at people and see how happy or lonely they are that you wish you could be like them but you brush away the thought as soon as it occurs. READ MORE
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