I have never been more excited to release a post.
Life should be more than exploring the sentimental. The key to Alex, Mathew and I’s relationship is that we all love to laugh – and since that damaging piece that Mathew published, I thought it was only fair to let Alex return the favour. I hope you guys would appreciate the lengths I have gone to to make Alex write something and to entertain you all.
Hope you all enjoy this piece as I have. And Mathew, this is the real surprise I was referring to.
P.S. If you can’t tell already, Alex studies philosophy.
Matthew, more colloquially known as “Raphael”, is one of the many shared friends of Yang and I. We all come from the same ragtag high school group, a group that I hope could evolve into a troupe with a group chat that has more than one message every other financial quarter. Perhaps this situation is partly due to one of my greatest shortcomings of which Matthew is aware of, a lack of sociability. I apologize for this inadequacy, Matthew, and I vow to no longer need Yang’s prodding to enthusiastically reply to your messages.
I couldn’t help but notice that “Matthew” was spelled incorrectly in the latest installment of the ever-popular Alistairko blog. I would know – I was the progenitor of this moniker. It came from back when we were wee little boys (great alliteration), from the very first time Matthew and I had come face to face with each other. It was Year 9, or 10 perhaps, in the cafeteria, presumably at lunchtime. I had heard about Matthew from a mutual friend at this point, and all I knew about him was roughly what he looked like (the new one in the crowd) and that he was half-white, half-Asian (the new one in the crowd that looked kind of white). I had no idea what his name was – though I was unnaturally confident in my assumption that it was “Matthew”. As such, this is what I used when I called out to him. This was incorrect, evidenced by slight confusion in his expression, and the statement “My name’s not ‘Matthew’, it’s ‘Raphael’.” However, I did not cower even in the face of such an undeniable fact, and in an act of reckless defiance and assertion which Ms. Bass had taught me, I said with nothing but conviction in my eye: “Really? But you look like a Matthew”. Though I am still unsure of what this meant, exactly, I stand by this statement to this very day.
Robin Jeshion, an unfortunate soul forced to toil in the depths of academic philosophy, once stated that names are a marker of the bearer’s significance. I hope Matthew doesn’t begrudge me to say that the use of “Matthew” allows me, and our wider friend group, to attach even more significance (and perhaps even a privileged significance) alongside the significance of what his real name, “Raphael”, entails. Indeed, to say that Matthew is significant to us, or especially so, would never be an overstatement. I won’t be too mushy in my praise, as that seems to be Yang’s area of expertise. What is undeniable, however, is that he has always been, and still is, a great friend who has played an undeniable role in the growth of any of his friends.
What he isn’t, however, is a good role model when given the liberty to be his usual self. One of his favorite magic tricks, which has entertained my then 12-year-old brother many a time, included asking the impressionable youth: “Eric, do you want to see a magic dragon?”. This curiosity-inducing question is then followed up with a deep drag of whatever vape at hand, and blowing it into the air for my wide-eyed little brother to see. In my living room while playing FIFA, no less. The lengths Matthew takes to entertain are often, well, long. Perhaps this had a positive effect, though, as my brother’s early exposure to teenage escapades in addictive chemicals seems to have stunted his interest in the area.
This seems to be a frequent theme with Matthew. Positive effects, that is, not budget-oriented dragon roleplay. Aristotle distinguished friends to be of three categories: utility friendships, pleasure friendships, and virtue friendships. They correspond to friends who benefit oneself, friends who make you superficially feel better, and friends who make you truly better. Unmistakably, Matthew has been of the third category to me. He puts up with harmless idiosyncrasies of his friends, evidenced by his earlier willingness to be referred to as Matthew, which has sometimes morphed into a joking coercion that he must be referred to as such. He has always made clear which side he’s on, being supportive or harsh when required, giving advice, or simply being available. In our previous or current interactions, whether intentionally or unintentionally, he has led me to strive to be better. Don’t be fooled by his often jovial and trivially joking front as to those he acknowledges as true friends – that is exactly what he is and nothing less.
Though Matthew has been nothing but generous in his critique of my character in his blog post about me (in my defense, of which many instances were wrong or lacking the whole picture), I struggle to find the ammunition to reciprocate. This speaks volumes either about his conduct or my inattentiveness, but I strongly suspect the former. Other than the silly, and mostly minor things he’s done that can be chalked up to a bit of teenage tomfoolery, truly nothing comes to mind when I think in the realm of major character flaws or events that demonstrate such inadequacies. He has always been rather mature when push comes to shove, and even in my brief conversations with him recently, the ability to have his eyes on the prize when called for still shines through. This is truly an enviable quality. Of course, good ol Rappa has it.
My mention of his maturity is not to discount his significant abilities in the humor division, either. Yang’s shared some stories on his blog post, so I won’t yap on about what’s been said already. Seriously though, some things he pulls out of his funny bone are truly beyond comprehension. (How does Krozier turn into Ebeneēezer, for example)
As I alluded to in my opening statements, and from the scathing words Matthew put ink to paper to address in his classical post about me, I don’t see myself as a social butterfly. This is an accusation I do not deny. Neither am I as sentimental or observant of other people’s behaviors, natures, and progress as Yang. However, it is clear to me that Matthew is someone who strives to be a good friend, and I am truly grateful for that. Perhaps some apologies are in order for my lack of reaching out, and for the misguided notion in my mind that time simply stops when communication quells, and everything goes right back to how it was as soon as we start talking again. This may have been true over summer vacations in high school, but as university graduations are creeping up, and job offers are (hopefully, for me mostly as Matthew’s going to be fine) being sent out, this may not be the case. Indeed, contrary to Matthew, my efforts in this area have been lacking. Perhaps it still will, as also contrary to Matthew, many of the commitments I make to myself still fall flat on their faces. However, if you’re reading this, one thing’s for sure: I will be in them DMs every Halloween, wishing you the greatest of October’s only significant date. Regardless, I know that our friendship is true, and am sincerely grateful for that.
Though this post is perhaps comparatively brief, I hope it does not hide my appreciation for Matthew as a friend. Perhaps, when it comes to writing blog posts, some sentimentality and quote-grabbing from the good old Charlie Munger that I do not share with Yang comes with a competitive edge. What I do share with Yang, however, is the honor of calling Matthew a friend, and the benefit of knowing such a capable, understanding, and white little fellow. Two and a half Asians may deserve another episode when we all settle down, looking at the sunset (which I was told is VERY beautiful) and appreciating good company once more.
When will you be going to Sanya? I’ve been dying to meet you again.
Written in Shanghai,
from the very room with many memories we share, and I hope to keep.
A(HL)C
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