Life At Ngee Ann

Life Goes On...

2005-05-24T17:23:00.000+08:00

I'm back at Ngee Ann today.

It's always a weird feeling coming back to school just when the term starts, especially when you've been around during the vacation, where it becomes really nice and quiet - plenty of seats the the library, the canteens, the atrium, the everywhere else. Now, it's more like saturday-afternoon Orchard Road again - swarms of fashionable and not-so-fashionable bodies streaming all over the place.

In the library, I can't find a seat - too many non-readers around chatting or just loafing. My New Scientist is in its usual spot on the shelf for once. A flock of Ah Lians sprawled out on the carpet laugh loudly, eyes glancing sidewards to see if they caught anyone's attention (they caught mine). 2 friends keep taking pictures of themselves with a digital ixus, hoping to capture a pretty angle (face the ugly truth girls). A bald indian guy is booting his 17-inch PowerBook (showoff). A plump girl advises her slimmer friend not to SMS the guy too much, in case they run out of things to say when they actually meet (jealous?). And I don't feel like reading today.

On my way to canteen 1, going by the sheltered detour via block 4 and 56 because I absolutely detest the torching sun, I pass by an innocent-looking girl at the study bench making a phone call. "Harlow? Where are you? You dunno? I also dunno where I am leh!" And I don't feel like helping anyone today.

Canteen 1 is crowded as usual, but I find myself a free table as lunchtime is almost over. Most people are chatting, or just sitting around, waiting for time to pass. A few isolated lonelyhearts fiddle with their shiny new Acers (not reading my blog). And I don't feel like finishing the plate of rice-plus-meat-and-2-veg before me.

This day marks the first day of a brand new school year. This means that a third of all the students are new. And I'm not a student anymore.

* * *

Some of you know that many of my posts have multiple messages or purposes on different levels, some more obvious than others.

Take my last 2 posts for example.

In "Interview with the Calm One Part 2", I wanted to highlight that many (female) bloggers have very typical likes and dislikes, which is very normal, and very boring. Of course, I also wanted to express my opinion on Philip Yeo's recent legal activities, while conveniently adding a snide reference to his infamous remarks about basic degree holders being qualified only to wash test tubes.

Then, the Musical Baton which got passed to me, triggering my last post "Billions of Blistering Batons". There, besides having some fun with my own interpretation of the Musical Baton, I divulged a little about my dysfunctional self, and gave a mini-rantanalysis of the psychology of this mutant chain mail phenomenon. But as I was thinking about writing that post, I figured I could sneak in a hidden hint that would lead on to this current post. Ever realised that I had more than one reason for passing the baton to those 3 (ex-)bloggers?

* * *

Those of you who have been faithfully following this blog forever may remember the time when I killed off this blog, then decided to come back one month later. In that coming-back post, I mentioned this towards the end:

And oh, I definitely won't be blogging here after this semester, which ends around April or May. This time, don't say I didn't give you enough warning!

I'm keeping my word.

But, there's no need to be too upset. I've since learnt that I like blogging so much, that I won't be able to stop for long. So, even though this blog is dead, I'll probably be blogging somewhere else, as someone else.

Drop me an email at calmster@gmail.com, tell me a bit about yourself, and who knows, I might tell you my new blog address when I'm ready (but don't tell anyone else). Or if you're more adventurous, keep your eyes open for new blogs - maybe you'll find one that sounds like me. If you suspect it's me, drop me an email to confirm (but don't blog about it).

"Why are you so secretive?" someone asked me recently.

"I have many things to hide," came my standard reply.

I shall end this blog with the same words as the last time:

You guys have been great.

Thanks, every single one of you, for reading.

It has been my pleasure.

* * *

Postcript

Some of you will surely ask about my status in Tomorrow. I'll probably hang around as an editor for a while, but eventually, "calm one" will disappear from the list of editors. Perhaps, when my new blog is ready, you'll see my new identity on the list of editors? Hmmmmmm......

As for the Singapore Bloggers Convention 2005 (whatever it's going to be called), I'll certainly be there, if at all possible. But don't expect me to announce to everyone that I'm the calm one. You must be kidding.

Life goes on, with or without me.

Billions of Blistering Batons

2005-05-19T15:47:00.000+08:00

Updated (again)

* * *

I'd always been known to be a loner as a kid. Sure, there were times when I hung out with other kids I was close to, but I never really liked hanging out in large groups of more than 5, where too many people are trying to talk too much at the same time, where I would slink into an obscure corner and sink into my own thoughts, oblivious to the mindless chatter around me.

Part of my problem was that I was a non-conformist. I suppose my parents emphasised the evils of peer pressure so much that I became quite impervious to it.

Like the time when the whole class would be cheering and egging me on to be the one to present the Teacher's Day card to that Chinese teacher who was particularly fond of giving me a 50/100 for my compositions, but I would simply give a curt I'm-not-doing-it announcement and get back to Smiley's People. What they couldn't stand was not the fact that I didn't want to do it (of course they knew that), but because I didn't even bother to put up a big show of protesting.

So not-fun. So un-sporting. Why you so lidat. So blah blah blah. I've heard them all.

Then, a few bloggers sent me the dreaded musical baton, expecting me to join in the fun. Fun.

First came Adri's baton. I guess she doesn't like phallic objects. (But neither do I.)

Then came a big brown baton.

Then Roxanne shoved me another. She thinks it's art.

Then batons rained on me.

This reminds me of the chain mail I used to get from friends when I first started emailing, promising me that I won't die next week or I'll find a girlfriend or Bill Gates will send me money if I forward it to 10 of my friends.

Of course, I would immediately shoot back an email telling them that now that you've received my email, you will die if you send me another chain mail. And it helped - my supply of chain mail eventually ran completely dry.

But this muscial baton thingy - it's much worse, much more dangerous, evil, and insiduous than chain mail. Like chain mail, it spreads quickly, and will soon reach epidemic proportions. Our blogosphere will soon be infected. Worst of all, it doesn't depend on the naivety of clueless and gullible email users - it thrives on the pressure exerted from fellow bloggers whom you respect!

You can imagine the pressure I'm facing right now.

Imagine, getting it from Adri - the oh-so-sizzling-yet-oh-so-unattainable Adri. How many guys (and gals) are just seething with envy?

Or from none other than the great ~~brown cow~~ mr brown?

Or that artistic Roxanne whose blog is destined for fame?

Or that innocent little Raine - how can I refuse small request from an innocent little girl?

These are loaded batons. Very heavy, very stressful.

But, to borrow Harry Truman's famous sign on his desk,

The baton stops here. Come, hatemail, come!

* * *

Fine, fine. Give a bit of face. Just a bit. And just this once.

Total volume of music files on my computer:

I have no music on my computer. After the harddisk crashed, I decided to forget it.

The last CD I bought was:

Actually I bought a whole stack of CDs. Imation blank CD-Rs.

Song playing right now:

N.A. Even my ipod has no music. Seriously - it's all people talking. I try not to burst out laughing when I'm on my ipod, because it looks too weird.

Five songs I listen to a lot, or that mean a lot to me:

1. Marikita. I'm such a loyal Singaporean. (I can't remember the correct title.)
2. The Ngee Ann Song. Yes, we actually have a Ngee Ann song. I'm so loyal to my school. (I seriously don't dare to click on the link that plays the song.)
3. Hit Me Baby One More Time. I lub you Britney!!!!
4. Tornado (Long Juan Feng). By you-know-who.
5. What song? Simi song? I buay song leh!

Ptui!
Excuse me.

Five people to whom I’m passing the baton:

My true idol, who is also Singapore's & USA's Most Handsome Guy!!!
My distant relative. (Yes I have royal blood.)
One of my favourite bloggers, who was also my early supporter.
My favourite scholar.
My favourite lawyer.

There. Don't say I'm not sporting.

* * *

Updated (again): Five songs I listen to a lot, or that mean a lot to me

Interview with the Calm One Part 2

2005-05-16T10:29:00.000+08:00

Interviewer: Hey it's been a while since the last interview...

Calm One: Quite right. I'll grant you this interview, but don't you forget why the last one ended. Mention that name again, and...

Interviewer: Okay, okay! No need to be so uptight! I promise NEVER to mention him ever...

Calm One: Get on with the questions - I've a tight schedule - I still need to do some work to justify my position at Tomorrow.sg...

I: Yeah, yeah, this is the 21st time you've mentioned Tomorrow...

C: GET ON WITH THE QUESTIONS!!!!

I: Calm down calm down...

C: I AM CALM!!!

I: Sure, sure... so tell us your likes and dislikes.

C: Okay I like shopping, movies, music, clubbing, surfing the internet, watching TV, and smoking. I hate liars, backstabbers, hypocrites, smokers, perverts, cockroaches, and lizards.

I: Uhmm... you know that some of your readers may not appreciate your mockery...

C: Oh, and I love PINK!

I: Er... I fear for you.

C: There's nothing to be afraid of. Sure, some of my readers may get a little offended, and may start hating me, which would hopefully get me some hatemail. But at least none of them would be moronic enough to threaten legal action against me.

I: Ah... threatening legal action. This reminds me of the case where Philip Yeo threatened to sue AcidFlask.

C: Oh Philip Yeo. I don't know him personally, never met him, but I think he must be a really nice guy.

I: Nice guy?

C: Yup. He invited a blogger for tea. How nice of him.

I: But he didn't invite you.

C: I'm sure he would eventually.

I: For your info, he invited AcidFlask for tea. AcidFlask is a Ph.D. student. You don't even have a degree!

C: Hmmm... you do have a point.

I: And if you do get invited, You'll think you'll be drinking tea? You'll be made to wash the teacups!

C: Dang. Thanks for busting my ego. End of interview.

No Life At Ngee Ann

2005-05-13T19:34:00.000+08:00

You may have noticed that the name of this blog is becoming a misnomer, since I haven't been writing very much about life at Ngee Ann Poly. The reason is simple - this is the vacation period (in Ngee Ann at least), where nothing much happens. I'm sure there are isolated activities in isolated corners which I could write about, if only I was there to observe. Probably not, since if I were there, the most interesting activities would probably grind to a halt...

But yes, just the other day I was near the Sports Complex when I heard some screaming. Sounded like screaming to me anyway, but it was really a bunch new students trying to cheer, I suppose. I think they call that orientation.

During orientation, the subjects are said to be having fun. Maybe it's me, but I never understood their idea of fun. Is burying my face in flour fun? Is crawling through a wet sewer fun? Is trying to squeeze through a ridiculous spider web contraption fun? I can see that it could be fun for the sadistic seniors who planned the "games", or fun for those with repressed masochistic tendencies, or very fun for some guys who think that it's a fine opportunity to get close and oh goody even touch that cute girl as part of the game...

Anyway, this is supposed to be a short explanation why my posts haven't been on Ngee Ann. So now you understand.

Mother's Days

2005-05-10T13:24:00.000+08:00

"So, what did you do for Mothers' Day?" someone asked me, "brought her out to lunch?"

"Nah I don't celebrate Mothers' Day."

Pregnant pause.

"Yeah it's getting too commercialised nowadays," he offered. He must have felt awkward for me, although I wasn't the least bothered, as I was thinking about other things.

"Oh yeah..." I responded rather absently, even though that wasn't my reason.

Those who have been reading me before this year would probably have an idea of my reasons, and I have a few. (When you don't have a good reason, it's always good to have a few.)

No, I'm not some mother-hating Nazi with matricidal fantasies.

And for the record, I do love my mother.

And no, not in a Freudian way.

Anyway, here are the reasons:

1. It's a good reminder for someone who doesn't stay with mom, that they do, in fact, have a mother somewhere. Not applicable for me.

2. When you've been treating your mom like dirt all year, bringing her out to Crystal Jade restaurant on Mothers' Day will cancel out all those misdeeds of yours. Not necessary for filial sons like me who have been nice to mom all year.
Fine. Most of the year.

3. Besides, Crystal Jade is much more crowded on Mothers' Day. Don't wanna keep mommy waiting at the entrance, do you?

4. Dad might get jealous. For different possible reasons, depending on the nature of the dad you have. Applies to step-dads and mom's boyfriends, if any. (You know, times have changed.)

5. Mothers' Day is SEXIST! Related to #4.

I hope mom doesn't read my blog, otherwise I'll get whupped when I get home.

But really, mothers deserve much more than one day of recognition a year - at least mine does. Hopefully, the tinge of guilt I feel for not celebrating Mothers' Day (yes I do have feelings at times) will drive me to treat mom better all year round. Call me mommy's boy.

Vignettes of Races and Racism

2005-05-05T10:48:00.000+08:00

Any serious photographer would know what's a vignette (pronounced "vin-YET"). Vignetting is said to occur when the edges or corners of the picture are darkened, often because the lens angle of view is too wide for the lens hood used, or simply because the lens is poorly-designed. Still, photographers and artists sometimes create a vignette effect on a photo for artistic effect, normally in Photoshop, by making the borders darker.

* * *

Dark-skinned people tend to be the victims of racism, for some reason, and fair-skinned people are often viewed as superior. A universal association of white and light with purity and righteousness and all things good, with black in diametrical opposition? Perhaps.

* * *

I was the dark-skinned one in class, once upon a time. The kids used to chant "Chinese, Japanese, don't forget to wash your knees" which I found amusing, only because we were all too young to understand the racist undertones. I knew I was different - it was obvious - but we were all colourblind, and treated all alike, just having a fun time like any kid should - going to one another's birthday parties (in those days I still celebrated birthdays), drawing our favourite cars, having races on the school playground...

* * *

Races are pretty much skin-deep - that's what some scientists would tell you. The genetic difference between 2 individuals of the same race is more than the overall genetic difference between 2 races. In other words, the difference in genes between Tan Ah Kow and Lim Ah Beng is greater than the difference in all the genes of the Chinese averaged together and all the genes of the Indians averaged.

* * *

"Indians are smelly," according to mom. She never did say that outright, but as they say, actions speak louder than words. There must have been numerous occasions when she grimaced while standing behind an Indian woman in the lift, enough for me to get that impression. "And Malays are lazy." Maybe she did say that. But I wouldn't consider my parents racist, for they treated everyone of all races well, and we had family friends from the different local races.

* * *

But it's not difficult to develop racist feelings here in Singapore, mixing around other kids who had parents who were actually racist. It would have been so easy for me to turn out somewhat racist too, because of the impressions I got from those around me.

* * *

My primary school classmates were all Chinese. There were a handful of Indians and Eurasians in the school, but they were never my classmates. And we had no Malays. I sometimes played Chinese Chess with the Indian kid from the next class. We were having a fun time like any kid should.

* * *

In secondary 1, my class had 3 Malays and 3 Indians. I didn't really mix with the Malays. I didn't like Asli because he was the class monitor, not because he was Malay. Ismail was okay - I thought he was kinda smart as he did Higher Malay - but I didn't mix much with him because he was pals with Asli. But I got along quite well with Mas actually - we even sat together in Design & Tech class - and I respected his artistic talents - until one day he tenderly placed his hand on my thigh. I would have broken his nose, but he was too feminine, and I could never get myself to hit a girl, so all I could manage was to swipe off his hand in horror, and place my school bag on the bench between us from that moment on.

I got along with the 3 Indians better. Much better in fact, as we were always hanging out together - Ezekiel, Raj, Kumar and me. I guess I stuck with them because they were the only ones who spoke only English, and that was my type. And Ezekiel had an impressive vocabulary - he actually knew what "apocalypse" meant (okay, my vocab sucked real bad then). The four of us would walk to the bus stop together, playing pranks and basing one another, having a fun time like any kid should.

* * *

In secondary 2, I was banished to the "condemned class" where most of the problem kids ended up. All Chinese. Sec 3, sec 4, all Chinese. I spoke more Mandarin then.

* * *

In poly, my classmates were all Chinese, all the way. And if you read an earlier post of mine:

Eventually, an interesting phenomenon would always set in. While I was perfectly comfortable using Mandarin with my classmates, more and more of them would start speaking to me in English (Singlish). Soon, they were speaking to me in English, and I would reply in Mandarin, and that would be how we communicated. And we were perfectly comfortable with that. I wonder if the linguists have any term for that phenomenon.

I'm still looking for the technical term for it (it's not called "code-switching"). Maybe there isn't one yet, so it's up to me to term it. I think I'll call it a "chiasmic exchange" - it sounds obscure and pretentious enough for linguists.

* * *

The problem with writing rambling posts like this is that you don't know how to end it, leaving the reader dangling because there's no closure. Terrible feeling, and I feel for you.

But do check out the other meanings of "vignette" if you don't already know them.

3.
a. A short, usually descriptive literary sketch.
b. A short scene or incident, as from a movie.

The Ultimate Blogger Stalker Tool

2005-05-03T10:59:00.000+08:00

I won't be posting very much these days as I'm facing some problems.
No need to speculate, and no need for concern, since I just need time to solve them. No big deal.

Some of you check back here periodically, and more often than not you're disappointed because I haven't been posting anything much.

This is why you need an RSS aggregator like Bloglines.

Bloglines allows me to stalk too many bloggers (I stalk close to 100 local blogs, and I don't even bother to count the non-local bloggers I'm stalking), while still allowing me to have a semblance of a life, because Bloglines will tell me which blogs I'm tracking have been recently updated, and show me their posts that I haven't read. This way I don't have to keep going to the blog to see if it's been updated.

The only problem is some bloggers I want to stalk did not enable RSS feeds, so I end up forgetting about them.

Anyway, Preetam Rai has a great tutorial on Bloglines which I recommend (it got browned too).

Okay if I'm the only blogger you're stalking, you probably don't need bloglines.

Casino Courses

2005-04-28T11:32:00.000+08:00

I think I'm in a news-gathering mode, especially since Tomorrow started.

Since the casino decision and announcement was made at the top of our national hierarchy, everyone else below is expected to shut up and toe the line, whether one likes it or not.

Me and a few friends were joking about Ngee Ann starting a new diploma on Integrated Resort Management the next semester, and it seems like we weren't too far off.

The NP website has recently posted a press release:

27 Apr 2005: Ngee Ann Prepares Students For Integrated Resorts

Singapore, 27 April 2005 – Some final-year business and first-year Engineering students will become the pioneer batch in Ngee Ann Polytechnic (NP) to take up new course options to tap the 35,000 job opportunities in the upcoming integrated resort industry.

NP’s School of Business and Accountancy (BA) will give its final year business students the option to take up Resort Management (RM). These students will graduate in mid-2006, well in time to contribute to the new business sector.

[blah blah blah blah]

By the way, you won't find the word "casino" in the release.

I wonder if we get to go to Vegas for attachment.

P.S. I'm sure the other polytechnics will put up similar announcements soon. As of now, I couldn't find any fresh information on their websites. They should have an official blog soon.

* * *

Talking about official blogs, Tomorrow (this must be my 27th time linking there) has a new blog for its editors to rant about their sad lives as editors. Since I'm an editor and I lead a sad life myself, you can expect me to post there every once in a while.

Handling Online Criticism

2005-04-26T17:37:00.000+08:00

If you've been reading Tomorrow.sg, you might have noticed a post about a Singaporean blogger being threatened with legal action:

would like to claim the dubious distinction of becoming the first singaporean blog (that i am aware of) for being threatened with legal action over one of my most recent posts. was it something i said?

He has since closed down his blog, and has issued an apology on the site where his blog used to reside:

AAA would like to apologize in particular to XXX, Singapore, for having hosted or made remarks which XXX felt were defamatory to him and the agency that he leads. AAA promises to not make such remarks again on this website.

I have edited the names of the involved parties, since it's not really relevant to this post.

* * *

If you've been reading Tomorrow.sg, you might have noticed a post about a British blogger who made some remarks about some of our top Singapore bloggers:

but go read the likes of MrBrown, Xiaxue and other certain blogs that shall not be named, and it is full of infantile concerns or pulling silly faces.

For some reason, mr brown did not take legal action against Steve (the British blogger); instead, he made a joke out of it and created a post entitled "Help Steve find more mature blogs than this one":

Steve of Singabloodypore laments the lack of mature blogs in Singapore and wonders where he can read blogs besides the infantile ones like Xiaxue's and mine.

* * *

I'll leave you to draw your own conclusions.

I think...

2005-04-24T22:54:00.000+08:00

I think I'll start posting really short posts from now on, otherwise I'll never get to update this blog.

Blogging is hard work you know.

There's Hope for Tomorrow

2005-04-21T09:37:00.000+08:00

Yes, I'm still thinking about the discussions on creativity in the comments of my last few posts. If your tired of that, don't worry, this post will end with some interesting twists (I hope), so do bear with me.

Sanz commented:

Singaporeans criticise govt for stiffling the creative elements in SG. Govt attempts to change it. Singaporeans criticise govt for its weak attempts at promoting creativity.

The problem is, aren't creativity something that should be nutured by the population itself and not by govt effort?

Maybe it's still this concept that singaporeans have that govt has to do everything for us. And this is the concept that we have to change so that creativity can finally thrive in SG.

Somewhat in a similar vein, Warrior had this to say:

well u r being critical, perhaps u can try to be constructive instead of destructive... everyone can criticize, but when it comes to suggestions, everyone juz keeps quiet... typical singaporean...
juz my opinion after reading ur blog for sometime... no hard feelings =]

Reminds me of what JFK said:

Ask not what the country can do for you;
As what you can do for your country.

In one of my latter comment replies, I mentioned about me doing my part to "to create a creative culture".

One of the things I've been involved in towards this end is called Tomorrow.

I'll just steal mr brown's description:

Yes, ladies and gents, there is now a place online for you to read about Singapore-related stuff, be it blog posts, Singapore news, or foreign sites talking about Singapore.

How is that possible? Well, simple. YOU are going to provide the links to that content. You see, tomorrow.sg allows anyone to suggest a site or link. Your submissions will be fed into a queue and the editors of the site will approve the submissions based on strict editorial guidelines (like, we think the link is cool).

We realised early on that one person cannot do it all, and having all of you readers and bloggers involved in suggesting content to one site would be more powerful than just one of us bloggers going it alone. All we needed was a good infrastructure to build it upon (James provided this with Drupal, bless his high-tech soul), and some volunteers be editors to select and publish the content.

Think of this as a Boing Boing for Singapore, but (hopefully) bigger and better.

Now it ain't very pretty yet, and kinks will be worked out as we go along, but I think the site is pretty cool as it stands. So go forth and suggest away.

I was personally involved with tomorrow.sg from the start, and I hope you'll find it interesting and informative. And don't just sit there and watch, go contribute if you find something interesting relating to Singapore!

* * *

I was going to entitle this post "A Better Tomorrow", but James Seng beat me to it..
Then I changed the title to "Tomorrow Never Dies". Then I realise mr brown beat me to it too.
And CowboyCaleb called his post "Tomorrow Begins Today".

These are exciting times. There's hope for tomorrow.

Creative Singaporeans and Civil Servants

2005-04-18T18:30:00.000+08:00

I enjoy the comments I get, but every once in a while, a comment gets me trembling in sheer delight. The last time I felt that rush of ecstacy was when I recieved that special hate mail (and even blogged about it).

Although I haven't been recieving hatemail of late, a comment in response to my last post (Creativity, Control, and Casinos II) has a similar effect on me.

Ladies and gentlemen, I present you that comment by shux:

perhaps we may not be as creative as, say, the americans, or the japanese, but u can give us points for trying? what's the point of slamming sincere efforts to get our youths to be more creative. if the top doesn't set the tone, who will?

This smells like something written by a typical civil servant. I may be wrong, but it certainly smells that way...

Enough personal attacks; let me take on the comment itself.

perhaps we may not be as creative as, say, the americans, or the japanese,

Are you saying that Singaporeans are not as creative as the 2 groups you mentioned? It is people with your mindset that we don't need, because it is people like you who don't give the creative Singaporeans a chance. You harbour an inferiority complex for the whole nation, because you are inferior yourself, kowtowing to the ang moh just like what your grandfather did, not realising that your own brother is actually creativer than the gwailo, even though he doesn't speak with a swanky accent and breaks English rules every now and then like in this sentence.

but u can give us points for trying?

I'm probably missing your point (not that it matters now), but give you "points"? Must everything have to be about scoring points? Must everything be measured, quantified, and ranked, just like every other aspect of the civil service, and every aspect of the rest our society, home of the world's number one airport and seaport and who-cares-what-else?

Sure I'll give the government some brownie points for finally recognising the importance of creativity (although it took them a generation to do so (Great Harry had to admit publicly that we need more mavericks)). Unfortunately, a great number of our creative cretins (as you thought they were) have become "quitters", while those who didn't quit in time are still serving time.

Sure, the government is trying. But they are realising that getting civil servants to be creative isn't about ordering them to do be creative. Or even adding a displayed-creativity-at-work component in their yearly appraisals. It's about loosening the controls. And they know that. But they can't do that. Because they are not creative themselves. (Fine, calling "casinos" "integrated resorts" is a little creative I admit.)

what's the point of slamming sincere efforts to get our youths to be more creative.

I'm not slamming those efforts. I'm just amused by the absudity of their attempts, except that it's so sad it's not so funny anymore, especially when you see that they are actually sincere in thinking that they will work.

And, you only mention "youths" as the target of their efforts. Which brings up a salient point - they think that they can have creativity in a vacuum, getting the youths to be creative, while thinking that they could remain comfy in their uncreative asylum. This is why you have situations like in my own institution where uncreative lecturers are trying hard to produce creative students. Very funky, in every sense of that word. Very funky.

if the top doesn't set the tone, who will?

I will. My friends who know they are better than the Americans or the Japanese will. Must we always look to the top? It worked for the 60s, 70s, and 80s, but they're finding that it's not working so well anymore.

Let's get the ~~evil~~ civil servants like you out of the way, along with the government they serve, and we will have made a good solid step onto the wobbly but exhilarating path (which we can't see) towards creative nirvana.

* * *

To shux:
Don't take this post personally. I just found that your comment was so convenient as a scaffold for those rants, I couldn't resist. =)

Creativity, Control, and Casinos II

2005-04-14T11:08:00.000+08:00

Read part I of this 2-part series.

* * *

The Ministry says we need to instill creativity in our students.

We need to teach our students how to be creative.

Let's start a subject to do that.

It should be compulsory for all first year students.

This will make our students more creative.

* * *

Uniquely Singapore.

* * *

Our students still aren't very creative.

Maybe it's the environment. We need a more creative environment. Anyone has any ideas?

Did someone say "graffiti"? You mean those horrid things they spray on the walls?

Can we control it? What if they spray undesirable words or pictures on the walls?

Do it on boards? So we can approve them before they are mounted on the walls?

Approved. This will show that NP is an institution that treats creativity seriously. It will also make our environment more creative, and help foster creativity in our students.

* * *

It's just too bad for Ngee Ann that they have someone like me there. It could easily have been any of the other polytechnics or universities, since they often have the same mentality.

And it's not just in education.

* * *

We have a problem. We need another engine to drive our economy.

And make sure we can sustain it, not like what happened to our IT dreams, or what is happening to our life sciences, or our attempts at art, or... you get the idea.

Did someone say "casino"? You mean the place where people gamble and commit other kinds of horrible vices?

It can bring in a lot of money? Heaps of money?

How about the social problems? We should be able to control them right?

Are the economic benefits greater than the social costs?

The numbers look good. But how many votes will we lose? You might want to get the numbers for this.

Will they forget the whole thing by the next election?

* * *

~~Creativity~~ Calculations, Control, and Casinos.

Creativity, Control, and Casinos

2005-04-09T11:02:00.000+08:00

An 11 year old boy was standing in the dark sewers, nervous, guilty, and excited.

In his left had was a spray can, his finger on the nozzle. His friend was looking on, equally nervous and excited.

Releasing the tension in the nozzle, a large, white "F" was formed on the grey sewer wall. Then "U", followed by two other letters. A release, so thrilling, so exhilarating, so illegal.

The can was passed to the friend, and soon "I LOVE TAMMY" appeared on the facing wall.

They didn't realise it at the time, but the common message that was released on the walls was strangely appropriate for the phallus-shaped tool they used.

Some years later, a boy was in a secondary school classroom, bored as always. If he wasn't surreptitiously reading the John le Carre on his lap, he would be decorating the textbook with doodles that would eventually entertain the younger kids in his neighbourhood who later inherited those textbooks for use during similarly boring lessons. Unfortunately the maternal authority got wind of the distractions, and doodling on textbooks was swiftly banned. The creative energies of the boy thus had to be channeled from the textbook onto the desk.

Which proved to be a frying-pan-into-the-fire move when the discipline master walked by one fateful morning. He stared at the graffiti for an excruciating minute, and just when the boy started to entertain thoughts that perhaps the discipline master was actually so aesthetically able as to actually appreciate the artwork,

"I want this gone by next week."

"When I become famous, you'd be wishing that you kept it instead!" the boy so wanted to shoot back.

Fast forward the clock again.

The boy in Ngee Ann Poly, and sees graffiti. Not the ones behind toilet doors, nor the ones on the classroom desks, but the loud and proud ones on the walls of the new classroom block (blk 56).

No one got in trouble for this graffiti.

"Graffiti" sprayed on boards, mounted on the walls of block 56.

Sure, this is graffiti, but something is missing.
Like a Madame Tussaud.
Like Frankenstein.
Like a body without a soul.
Graffiti under control.

* * *

Okay, I didn't mention anything about casinos, despite what the title claims. Stay tuned for part 2.

Speak Good Singlish

2005-04-04T15:27:00.000+08:00

Updates below.

* * *

Some of us lose control of our bodily funtions when we hear an ungrammatical sentence.

Like the other day when I heard someone ask,

"Don't want lah?"

AARRRGGGHHHH!!!

The annoying can't-speak-grammatical-Singlish-but-thinks-he-can ang moh really should have asked, "don't want meh?"

Some of these ang mohs have absolutely no respect for our culture, deriding us with their mocking and condescending attempts at producing phrases with Singlish particles, without any appreciation for the intricate nuances of Singlish or its grammar, as if peppering a "lah" here or a "loh" there would magically turn them into speakers of good Singlish.

I don't blame them entirely. We Singapore folk have not stood up against their cultural and linguistic tyranny. How many books are there on proper Singlish? How many courses can one attend to learn good Singlish? Even our great gahmen treats Singlish like some bastard stepdaughter who keeps asking for pocket money.

Granted that not all ang mohs are evil - some are genuinely interested in Singlish, and make an effort to learn it. But how many of us are equipped to teach or explain it?

I don't pretend to be a Singlish expert, much less a qualified Singlish teacher. But that won't stop me from attempting to show the economic elegance of Singlish with its use of particles like "lah", "loh", "meh", and others in the lesson below.

* * *

Note: In linguistics, a "particle" is

1. An uninflected item that has grammatical function but does not clearly belong to one of the major parts of speech, such as up in He looked up the word or to in English infinitives.
2. In some systems of grammatical analysis, any of various short function words, including articles, prepositions, and conjunctions.

* * *

The phrase we'll be modifying today is:

"Don't want [blank]"

where [blank] is a particle followed by a punctuation mark.

I'll also start the phrase with a personal pronoun (I, you, him, etc.) for clarity, although it is sometimes redundant, like in English.

* * *

Note on pronunciation:

"Don't" is often pronounced like the "done" in "condone" or rhyming with "own", and "want" often sounds just like "one". Sometimes, "don't want" is further contracted into "dowan" (pronounced like "dough"-"one").

* * *

Now let's get on with the the lesson proper.

lah -

I don't want lah.

In English:

Well, I guess I have to say don't really want it.

Used to soften the assertion.

---

leh -

I don't want leh!

In English:

I don't want it, so sue me!

Used with an air of defiance.

---

loh -

He don't want loh.

In English:

He doesn't want it, and that's it.

Used to imply resignation.

---

hor -

You don't want hor?

In English:

You don't want it right?

Used as a confirmation.

---

mah -

I don't want mah.

In English:

It's because I don't want it.

Used to express a reason (because).

---

meh -

You don't want meh?

In English:

Are you sure you don't want it?

Used to express doubt; can only be used in questions.

---

sia -

He don't want sia!

In English:

I'm surprised that he actually doesn't want it!

Used to express an element of surprise, possibly mock surprise.

* * *

Putting this down has proven to be more difficult than I realised. No wonder the ang mohs can never get it right!

Since, as I've mentioned earlier, I'm no Singlish nor linguistic expert, there are probably errors in this lesson. I'd be happy if you could point them out.

Whatever it is, let's join our hands together and Speak Good Singlish!

* * *

Update

katongking actually had a very similar post which I only just discovered.

mr brown also joins in the scholarly discourse on Singlish. He also quotes a sociolinguist's article on Singlish, which I'll remember to read during those nights of insomnia.

This so cool loh.

Brain Burners

2005-04-01T00:03:00.000+08:00

Updates below.

* * *

It's supposed to be the exam week in Ngee Ann Poly, when everyone's brain is supposed to be over-clocked and overheated.

But if your brain is still cool, let me help to warm it up with this little contrived story...

* * *

Part I

Once upon a time, the Calm One went to an interesting place called Ngee Ann.

Ngee Ann is interesting because there are only two types of people there - students (S), who always tell the truth ('S' for 'straight'), and lecturers (L), who always lie ('L' for 'lies'). And you can't tell them apart just by their looks.

Now the Calm One needed to go to Ngee Ann because he needed to borrow an important book from the library.

When the Calm One first stepped into Ngee Ann, he saw 3 people standing at the gates, presumably named Alice, Bob, and Chuck.

"Maybe one of them could tell me how to go to the library," thought the Calm One, "but first, I'll have to find out who's a student."

The Calm One first asked Alice, "are Bob and Chuck both students?"

"Yes," claimed Alice.

"Then is Bob a student?"

To the Calm One's surprise, the answer from Alice was "no".

After a moment's thought, the Calm One knew who exactly are the lecturers and the students.

Do you know as well? If you do, help out those who don't in the comments. Difficulty level: not difficult - just requires a little concentration.

* * *

Part II

When the Calm One reached the library, he knew he had to find the librarian (who happens to be a student). Now the library had only one librarian, but there were 3 people standing there, so he had to find out who the real librarian was.

"Which of you is the librarian?" he asked, without realising that it was probably not the most useful question to ask in Ngee Ann.

"I am," claimed one.

"I am the librarian!" claimed the second.

The third one just smiled like a Mona Lisa.

"What do you have to say?" the Calm One asked the third.

"You know," quipped the third one rather philosophically, "only one of us three tells the truth."

With that, the Calm One knew immediately who the librarian was.

Do you know who? Difficulty level: quite easy.

* * *

Part III

The librarian was obviously quite clever, and it became even more apparent as they chatted.

"Before I retrieve the book for you," said the librarian, "let me issue you a challenge. If you win, you can have the book; if not, you can come back another day."

"Tell me," said the Calm One quite eagerly, "I'm always ready for a challenge."

"Ask me a question to which I must answer yes or no," said the librarian, "but even though the question has a definite correct answer, and even though we both will know the answer, I will be powerless to give you the answer. I will not be able to give you the answer because it will be logically impossible for me to do so."

The Calm One wasn't feeling so calm anymore. Can you help him to think of that question?

Difficulty level: the answer is really very easy, but may require some creativity.

* * *

These are all logic questions, but they are hardly original. If you really want to know the source, email me.

* * *

Update:

Looks like I've just stumbled upon a novel way of getting hate mail. I'll bear that in mind in case I get another craving for hate.

Thanks to our Singaporean need for the "model answer", some of you will never be satisfied until it's given, even though the right answers are already in the comments.

Fine. I'll give in. Model answers are in the comments.

Pronunciation Perplexities

2005-03-28T22:39:00.000+08:00

I can't even remember the topic of our conversation, but I started talking about a sword.

"A what?" asked the lecturer.

"A sword."

Some of you might know that "sword" is supposed to be pronounced as "sord", with the "w" silent. So that was how I pronounced it.

"Sword", I repeated, with the "w" silent.

He still looked puzzled.

"Sword, as in S-W-O-R-D." For some reason I couldn't get myself to pronounce it wrongly.

"Oh sWord!" he said with special emphasis on the the "w", as if I were a kindergarten kid.

I wasn't in the mood of correcting him, so I left it as that.

But, I don't blame him, since there was a time when I didn't know how to pronounce that word, and someone had to correct me. And I'm glad that I was corrected early.

Anyway, a few weeks later, me and another girl were chatting with another lecturer.

Lecturer (with a slight British accent): I'm an anglophile. I pronounce the British way.

Girl: Oh I follow the British pronounciation too!

Me: It's "proNUNciation", not p"roNOUNciation". N-U-N, not N-O-U-N. "ProNOUNce", but "proNUNciation".

Girl gives me the who-do-you-think-you-are glare.

Lecturer: He's right actually.

Girl: Oh?

Me (trying to suppress my smartass grin): Ahem of course!

Lecturer: So how do you pronounce H-E-R-B?

I know some people pronounce it without the "h" sound, but I'm not sure which is the British way, so I keep my mouth shut.

Girl: "Erb"? ["herb" with "h" silent]

Lecturer: That's American; the British pronounce it "herb", with the "h" sound.

Me: Well that's how I pronounce it...

Girl: Uh okay.

So it's my turn now.

Me: So how do you pronounce T-H-E-I-R?

Girl: "Thiar"? [pronounced the Singaporean way]

Lecturer: It's "there" ["their" pronounced rightly] - sounds EXACTLY like T-H-E-R-E.

This lecturer knows his stuff.

Girl (looking unconvinced): Is it?

Me: Yup. Look it up yourself.

Me (to lecturer): Since you're the anglophile, how do you pronounce W-R-A-T-H?

Lecturer (after a suspicious pause): So how do you do it?

Smart guy - he knows that there's something fishy going on.

Me: "Roth". The "a" sounds like an "o". But I sometimes just do it the Singaporean way, because I usually get funny looks if I pronouce it "roth", because it's quite obscure.

Unfortunately that was all the time we had - I would have loved to continue with the discussion, because I'm sure I pronounce many words wrong, or I don't know whether I'm using the British or American pronunciation.

Part of the reason for my confusion is my exposure to different English sources. I grew up on BBC World Service radio, but there was always the steady stream of American influence from music and television. In school, the official pronunciation was supposed to be British, but many of the teachers were just as mixed up. And then of course, you have the Singlish influence, which is in turn influenced by the local tongues.

But because I was rather obsessed in pronouncing words right, whenever I heard someone of authority pronounce a word differently, I would look up the pronunciation in a British dictionary. That was how I learnt that words like "wrath" and "sample" were pronounced differently by the Brits.

These days, I'm become rather confused. With the ease of looking up words on the internet with American sites like dictionary.com, or the even-better answers.com (a very fast site which allows me to listen to the pronunciation), and with no viable British counterpart (it's too bad that the authoritative Oxford English Dictionary requires paid subscription), I'm getting even more Americanized. And that's not even mentioning the amount of audio data coming from American websites. I don't even want to get started about British vs American spelling.

I also learnt as an early teen to be more humble (yes I still have much to learn), not to be too smug and insist that I'm right if I hadn't looked the word up. I will never forget how I insisted on "proNOUNciation" even after a friend tried to correct me many times, and I finally had to eat the supersized humble pie when she shoved the dictionary entry in my face.

But really...

What's the whole point of pronouncing words correctly? Is it a signal to others showing that I'm erudite and have reached a certain level of linguistic attainment? Does it give me a reason to feel superior?

Or is right pronunciation really meant to facilitate communication, so that others can understand me better? I mean, isn't that what language is all about - human communication?

And if pronouncing a word "correctly" turns out to be a barrier to communication, if I'm not being understood because I'm using the "correct" pronunciation, shouldn't I just use the "wrong" pronunciation instead so that I can be understood?

I'm starting to think so.

The next time someone gives me a puzzled look when I pronounce "sword" with the "w" silent (and I'm not in a didactic mood), I'll just throw pronunciation-correctness to the wind and say "sWord" with gusto. And be understood.

Disgust Discussed

2005-03-25T00:17:00.000+08:00

I was hanging out with a friend in school on a lazy Saturday afternoon and we were surfing on our respective computers when I found an interesting blog. An interesting but disgusting blog.

Yes, I know many of you were disgusted at my sexy picture. (I was going to re-post it here, but decided to be kind.)

In fact, I got many hurtful comments:

wah biang, that is chao er xin leh.
wah, i don't dare come back to your blog ever again if you keep insisting on using that picture..
arggghhhhhh.. GROSS!
-lindsey

that is disturbing.
- zhi yang

for decency's sake, please stop posting that person's pic!
- fayeth

that pic is really grotesque!
- BallofYarn

i'm scarred for life
- h3lix

Fine, the truth hurts.

Anyway, I was talking about this interesting but disgusting blog. And I wasn't referring to my own blog.

It's a blog by a guy who prefers to wear panties instead of briefs or boxers. This confirms that it's not me, even though I sometimes walk into "alternative" toilets.

One thing I noticed is that this guy seems to be normal in just about everything else. He's straight, probably of above-average intelligence, and gives thoughtful advice.

Like how to choose and buy panties:

First, you need to know what style you like. Something that looks gorgeous on a woman, may not fit comfortably on a man. [...] You probably do not want to stand alone at the lingerie section browsing through all the styles there are. The tendency is to get wierd stares from people if you hang around for too long.

He goes on to give practical advice about finding the right size. I will not quote that portion since his description on the interaction between the male genitalia with the female undergarment is too graphic.

Like their male counterparts, female undergarments need to be washed too, and discreetly:

What I do now is to wash them when I shower and wash them with my shower foam, then wash away the foam as quietly as I can. I avoid spraying directly onto the panty because the drum-like sound of water on fabric is different from water on skin, and again I want to avoid attracting attention.

Very well thought through.

But even more tricky is how to dry them:

Then I will hang the wet undergarment on a clothes peg behind my computer (which is against a wall) and let the warm wind from the fan dry it, arranging it such that it is not easily spotted if anybody comes into my room.

And don't forget the decoys:

Furthermore, I have to keep up appearances so I will wear a pair of briefs and dump them in the family laundry basket everyday, even though I spend most of my time in my panties and strings.

I was reading those snippets to my friend, and we were both amused and disgusted at the same time.

I hope you're not reading this right after your bowl of katong laksa. Maybe I should have given a warning earler. My apologies.

Anyway, our panty-wearing friend waxes philosophical:

It seems strange to any normal person on the streets to see a guy wear panties. But how often will one be able to spot that scene. Why is there such a perception that guys are only allowed to wear briefs or boxers, but underwear for girls (termed as panties) are frowned upon?

"Frowned upon" would be an understatement.

I find it disgusting.

Talking about disgust, many parents know that babies show no signs of disgust at disgusting things. In fact, nothing disgusts babies. Babies are not afraid of cockroaches or spiders, they will be happy to play with their own faeces if given the opportunity, and they are usually more curious than anything when presented with things we find disgusting.

But by the time they grow to the age of around five, they would have learnt to be disgusted at appropriately disgusting things, and in fact many of them tend to be more disgusted than necessary.

A possible explanation of disgust is that it is a learned mechanism to keep us away from potentially harmful things. Cockroaches are likely to be filthy, spiders could be poisonous, faeces are most definitely filthy.

But how about the guy who wears panties? Is he more unhygienic than other guys? I don't think so. His practice doesn't harm or hurt anyone. It's just weird, or different. But I'm weird and different too, yet no one finds me remotely disgusting (I assume).

But it feels so wrong. What he's doing feels completely wrong.

But why?

Sexy Bloggers, Calm Bloggers

2005-03-23T13:46:00.000+08:00

It all started with this...

Yes, everyone knows who she is.

Then 2 jokers came along and did this:

Mr Brown trying to be sexy

Mr Miyagi also trying to be sexy

As you can see, some are less successful than others:

Adri who doesn't even need to try to be sexy

While I may be slightly more sexy than Mr Brown or Mr Miyagi, I have no delusions about being more sexy than Xiaxue or Adri, no matter how much pink or purple I use. And if you look at what many others have done, the results can be quite horrific. So I decided to be calm about it, and pretend nothing's happening.

But damn, someone put this comment on Mr Brown's post:

Anyhow, let me stir up shit here.. I request Calm One! Jay Chou shot!!

Just because she decided to post hers, she has to drag me down along too. What is this?

Then I get these 2 uncalled-for comments:

dude. where's your contribution to the "I'm too sexy for my blog" campaign?!
- G

I agree. I think we all wana see your "I'm too sexy for my blog" picture...quick quick post! =D
- fayeth

Sheeesh.

You people don't know what you're asking for. Don't you know that calm and sexy do not go together?

But just to convince myself, I went to the loo, the male loo, stood in front of the mirror, and tried the tongue thingy, the way Xiaxue does it...

And guess what I saw?

A calm and sexy blogger.

* * *

Update: For newcomers who would like to know how I got my stunning good looks, check out this post.

Comments on Comments on Comments

2005-03-22T11:03:00.000+08:00

Yeah I've noticed.

I've been getting not a small number of comments lately. (Yes, the previous sentence is an example of a litotes).

Of course, it's nothing compared to what xiaxue sometimes gets. For example, her recent post exposing the cabsnatchers got her 239 comments, the last time I checked.

I do not hope to get that many comments. It's not so much because I don't want to get xiaxue jealous (of course it's never a good idea to offend her), but more because I won't be able to cope with that many comments.

Some weeks ago, in the comments on my post entitled "Damage Control", some rather notable bloggers made some observations.

It started with the infamous and much-hated Agagooga who commented:

You may not get that much hatemail, but you do get a lot of comments!

He's obviously jealous of me. But to get back at me, he makes a reference to hatemail, knowing that I know that he gets a hell lot of hatemail, which would in turn induce feelings of jealousy within me. Smart bastard.

In response to Agagooga's comment, Adri had this to say:

yeah, i was going to comment that err, you get a lot of comments. i'm jealous.

At least she's honest enough to admit that she's jealous. So sweet of her.

Which is quite something, because she has many more readers than I do. She even have fans and stalkers, which I don't. And there's even a lucrative market for her pictures (I'm the sole agent for NP), while nobody wants my pictures...

A few more comments down, Daniel, whose blog deserves more readers, made this comment:

and wow, I never had more than 40 comments in my blog...

To which I replied

yeah i'm getting kinda embarrassed getting so many comments - i think people like adri or agagooga should get more comments...

Weeks after switching to Haloscan's commenting system, I was looking at some of my older posts. I almost wet my pants when I saw that some of my comments had gone down to zero (scroll down to my older posts to see what I'm talking about).

Anyway I clicked on the comment link to check, and thankfully, all the comments are intact.

My pants remained dry.

Here's Haloscan's explanation:

Q: Some of my really old comment links are not showing accurate comment counts.

A: The comment count loader only retrieves the comment link counts for the last 200 comments (800 comments for premium members). Anything past that mark may show an inaccurate comment count in the link but you can still click the comment link to view all comments posted.

No wonder xiaxue doesn't use Haloscan.

The week before, a friend suggested to me that I'm getting so many comments because I only post about twice a week, so there's plenty of time for my comments to accumulate. That made sense, so I decided to release a succession of posts every day (15, 16, 17 March). But the comments kept coming...

I'm still wondering why I'm getting so many comments.

Thankfully, most of my friends are rather smart (I'd like to think that they're smart because they hang out with me, but unfortunately that's not the case), so I had this chat with one of them yesterday (lightly edited to make it more coherent):

me: was thinking of picking your brain on something...

she: oh, what?

me: why i'm getting so many comments on my blog....

me: u don't have to give me an answer now....

she: how would i know!

me: dang... i thot u could help me...

me: *sigh*

she: heh

me: i mean... i don't get it.....

me: my comments are disproportionately high.....

she: i noticed

me: maybe becos i've been responding to the comments?

she: heh

she: ;)

(what did she mean by that?)

me: i thot i had blogging all figured out...

me: u might have noticed that my last few posts came almost daily...

me: yet the comments are just as many, or even more

she: haha, dont be disturbed by it

me: not disturbed by the number of comments, just disturbed that i don't know why.

(end)

Yeah... so now you know what I'm thinking.

I guess this is not one of those things that highly-commented bloggers want to talk about. I can imagine some people telling me "why don't you just shuddup and let the comments pour in? Are you trying to make me even more jealous or what?"

Ah well. You readers are smart people - help me out with this mystery ok?

P.S. In case the post title is confusing, let me clarify it with an expanded version:
[My] Comments on [some of your] Comments on [the many] Comments [I'm getting for my posts]

Thinking about Toilets and Tae Kwon Do

2005-03-19T00:04:00.000+08:00

I was at the sports complex one evening when I heard nature calling.

Most of us learn early in life that when nature starts calling, you'd better do something about it soon, for when nature starts screaming, things can get quite uncomfortable.

So naturally, I went to the nearest toilet.

In a recent post, Jason Kottke talked about some "new reseach" findings:

Some new research is showing that the number of things humans can hold in our heads while solving problems is fairly small, three or four things at the most.

I kinda like his blog, but I was mildly irritated because this is hardly new research - I already knew the stuff in the article he quoted a long time back. Maybe I'm missing something.

But where was I?

Ah yes, the toilet. I must have been thinking about something else.

Anyway, my thoughts were violently violated when I turned the corner. Standing there was a girl wearing her tae kwon do uniform.

What is she doing in the gents???

For some reason, I was actually quite offended initially, and I almost wanted to say to her, "excuse me, but what are you doing here??"

But I quickly decided against it, since she probably was there by mistake, and there was no need to embarrass her, especially since she was only partially dressed. Besides, she might even think that I was the one in the wrong toilet, and may start screaming or worse, start tae-kwon-doing me. So I quietly turned back. I'll just stand outside the toilet and wait for her to finish like the true gentleman that I am *ahem*, and keep other guys from coming in.

I noticed something about the door as I was walking out.

No pricks allowed.

I almost died.

I scanned the area outside. Thank heavens no one was looking.

Except Peter and Paul, but they're ok.

I quickly dived into the other door.

The ying and the yang.

I think I should think less the next time nature calls.

P.S. No, I don't think it has anything to do with my feminine side calling me home (to the toilet). Remember, I am 110% male.

Happy Birthday

2005-03-17T21:55:00.000+08:00

I'm reading a book after dinner at canteen 1 when I notice a flickering light from the next table, like someone lighting a cigarette.

It turns out that a girl is lighting the 2 candles on a cake, while her boyfriend looks on.

I suspect that that cake is too big for the couple.

When the candles are lit, the girl sings "happy birthday", while her boyfriend looks on.

He blows out the flames.

The girl removes the candles, cuts a piece from the cake, and serves the boyfriend. Then she walks away.

She comes back with a styrofoam food box, and packs the remainder of the cake into the box, while her boyfriend eats the cake.

From where I'm sitting, I can only observe the boyfriend's face. He doesn't look happy at all.

They leave the canteen after they are both done.

Happy birthday.

The words we often say without meaning.

Happy birthday.

The words we often write without thinking.

Happy birthday.

The words we often sing without feeling.

Happy birthday.

Empty words.

* * *

Warning: rambling below.

I've often wondered why we celebrate birthdays.

Just because we were born on a certain date, and the earth completes an orbit round the sun and it's cause for celebration? What if I'm born on a moon colony - do I celebrate every time we go round the earth or the sun? Or what if I'm born on a Pluto colony - does it mean I don't get to celebrate my birthday, since I'd be long gone before Pluto completes an orbit?

And why birthday anyway? Being born is nothing more than coming out of my mother's womb - which is really not that much different from coming out of, say, a lecture theatre. Conceptionday makes a bit more sense to me - that's the day when dad's sperm joins with mom's egg, the day when I am conceived and conceivable.

Maybe my parents prefer to forget the circumstances that led to my conception. How would I feel if they told me that I was the result of some activity in the backseats of Lido? Or perhaps in a bird sanctuary at East Coast park? Or maybe they really didn't know which place it was?

And why happy birthday? Must I be happy on my birthday? Wouldn't it be more interesting if, every now and then, someone wishes me a "sad birthday", "depressing birthday", "you-think-your-birthday-very-great-is-it birthday"?

Stress does wonders to my mind.

Thoughts on Tests

2005-03-16T23:05:00.000+08:00

Surfing around different blogs the last couple of days, I noticed that quite a few bloggers have taken this "What Gender Is Your Brain?" test.

Respectable bloggers do not take such silly tests. (Even if they did, they wouldn't be caught displaying such frivolity on their blogs.) Think for a moment - when was the last time you saw something like this appear on mr brown's blog? Never. Or a respectable blog like mine? (Okay I did one before, but that was reeeaaallly long ago, so it doesn't count.)

But exceptional circumstances require exceptional responses.

I'm talking about my recent whimsical post, which for some strange reason seemed to have resonated particularly well with the female readers, which made me particularly uncomfortable.

The final sting came from a seemingly-casual remark by Agagooga, who asked

Why all girls here ah

Of course he knew that it wasn't all girls, but sneaking beneath that innocent-sounding question was really an insiduous attack on my masculinity.

Exceptional circumstances require exceptional responses.

What better way to prove the degree of my manhood than to take that "What Gender Is Your Brain?" test, especially since Singapore is such a numbers-oriented society, where everything is measured, quantified, and ranked, and without which no one will believe your quality?

Besides, exams will be starting at Ngee Ann in a few short weeks - what better time is there to attempt a couple of tests?

Okay, enough excuses, let's get on with the test.

I won't bore you with the questions, or how I answered them, but here are the results:

Your Brain is 46.67% Female, 53.33% Male

Your brain is a healthy mix of male and female

You are both sensitive and savvy

Rational and reasonable, you tend to keep level headed

But you also tend to wear your heart on your sleeve

This is pure, unadulterated BS of the highest grade!

Anyway, education experts know that tests, even multiple-choice ones, have fundamental flaws and lack objectivity, despite what most people mistakenly believe. This is an excellent example of a flawed and badly-designed test, where the cultural and psychological biases of the test designer based on certain gender stereotypes has resulted in an inaccurate test result.

The above result can thus be safely discarded.

Thankfully, there's something called a retest. Of course, I'll have to change some of the answers to offset the inherent bias of the test.

Your Brain is 33.33% Female, 66.67% Male

You have a total boy brain

Logical and detailed, you tend to look at the facts

And while your emotions do sway you sometimes...

You never like to get feelings too involved

I AM NOT ONE-THIRD FEMALE!!!

Your Brain is -10% Female, 110% Male

You have an absolute boy brain

Logical and detailed, you always look at the facts

You have not emotions or feelings.

You must be the Calm One!

Perfect. A little HTML knowledge can be useful in exceptional circumstances.

* * *

Still somewhat agitated by the results of the test, my eyes caught another one on the same site. "How Logical Are You?"

Of course I already know the answer; there's really no need to take the test to convince myself that I'm 100% logical.

But I do have a bit of time on my hands.

Besides, it's gonna be so easy, so it wouldn't take long.

And I can see how well-designed the test is - maybe it will have less bias than the previous test.

Well, the test was slightly more difficult than I expected - I actually had to think. And I needed to get 100%.

You Are Incredibly Logical

(You got 88% of the questions right)

Move over Spock - you're the new master of logic

You think rationally, clearly, and quickly.

A seasoned problem solver, your mind is like a computer!

Ptui!

I think I got distracted during the test. Retest!

It took me a while to find the offending question. It was really quite an easy question.

You Are Incredibly Logical

(You got 100% of the questions right)

Move over Spock - you're the new master of logic

You think rationally, clearly, and quickly.

A seasoned problem solver, your mind is like a computer!

You see, even if a test is well-designed, it is probably still not objective, because the test-taker may not be feeling well at that moment, or may have been distracted by various environmental factors, such as temperature and humidity levels, intensity of lighting, ah lians walking by - the possibilities are endless.

Thus my first result for this test is invalid. The second one reflects reality more accurately. And I didn't even touch the HTML!

* * *

The problem with such tests is that they can get rather seductive.

Especially when my eyes landed on "What Is Your Seduction Style?"

Very funny. I don't seduce people, so no harm trying out the test.

Your Seduction Style: The Natural

You don't really try to seduce people... it just seems to happen.
Fun loving and free spirited, you bring out the inner child in people.
You are spontaneous, sincere, and unpretentious - a hard combo to find!
People drop their guard around you, and find themselves falling fast.

*Sigh* If only it was true.

I'm tired of these tests.

Scam Baiting - Final

2005-03-15T22:32:00.000+08:00

I got pretty tired of my half-hearted attempt at scam baiting, but a few of you were curious about the outcome.

For those of you who didn't follow the whole episode, here's a quick recap:
Part 1: I got this scam spam from a certain Mark Ncube asking me to participate in this great business deal. He asked for my number, while I asked for his picture.
Part 2: He insists on getting my number, while I confess my love for him while insisting on his (nude) picture.
Part 3: Mark turns out to be shy, so I send him my nude picture (tubgirl), and await his reply.

So here's part 4, the final episode.

* * *

A number of days after sending him my picture, Mark finally sends me a reply.

Dear My love Calm one,
Thanks for nice nude picture, here is mine also, please dont show it to anyother person, as i told you that am very shy, but dueto the love i have on you makes me to do so.

Thanks and hoping to hear from you soon.
Mark.

He attached a picture. Unfortunately, since Mark asked me not to show his picture to anyone, I have to respect his privacy and not post his picture here. An unsatisfying description will have to suffice.

Attached was a picture of a dark-skinned person. But only part of the legs were shown - the inner thighs actually - as well as the area where the legs meet. Somehow the genital configuration is quite different from mine, with some items missing. I shall say no more.

Needless to say, I was most disappointed.

Mark,

You are very ugly!!!
I don't like you anymore.
I am very sad and angry.
Don't email me ever again!

Calmone

So that's the end of the whole story.

* * *

Just a couple of days back, I saw this title in my Inbox:

URGENT AND CONFIDENTIAL

I heaved out a sigh. Yet another scammer. For some reason, I decided to open it.

I humbly crave your indulgence in sending you this mail, if the contents does not meet with your personal and business ethics, I apologise in advance, I am Mark Ncube the first Son of Mr Solomon.D.Ncube former national security advicer to the ousted Sierria Leonean military head of state, Paul Koroma.I am writing to express my interest in real estate or landed properties in your country. Though my father died in detention a couple of months ago while been detained by the new government. Before his untimely death, he instructed me to leave the country for my safety and start up a business somewhere out side Africa with a total sum of
USD7.300.000 ( Seven million three hundred thousand United States Dollars) which he deposited in a Security Company here in Bangkok Thailand.

Actually, I have never met you before, but it was a friend of my father who happened to be present at his bural that adviced me to consider your country for my investments. After due
consideration, I started searching the web side where I got your email address. No one else is
aware of my proposal to you.Due to social, economic and political instability in west African
region, I decided to seek your assistance in transfering this money into your private or institutional account for my investment purposes.I have all the vital documents that covers the deposit which could be faxed to you upon request. Transaction of this nature demands the
highest trust and confidence between both parties. This transaction is 100% risk
free. For your assistance in this transfer, I have decided to give 20% of the total sum involved and 5% mapped out for miscellaneous expenses that we may incure during the process.
Your acceptance of this proposal or otherwise should please be communicated through my E.MAIL address. Your quick response will be appreciated. However, if you are not disposed to assist, kindly distroy this letter to protect the identity and confidentiality of the
parties involved.

I look forward to hearing from you soon.

Thanks.
Yours Sincerely,
Mark Ncube.

I Love Reading; Life Is Random

2005-03-12T21:22:00.000+08:00

I love reading. Even those who don't know me too well know that I'm a slightly neurotic bookworm. My friends know that wherever I go, inside the bag I'm carrying will be a book. Or two. Or more.

Unfortunately, I don't have the time to read as much as I would like to, so I often have to grab whatever opportunity there is to read - while waiting for friends, waiting for the MRT, or riding in the bus.

But the bus isn't always the best place to read, especially when you have to stand. So the other thing I like to do on the bus is observing people - adorable three year-olds whom I sneak faces at when their parents are not looking, filthy coin-in-the-ear old men with wild hair and wild eyes I will not look into, young and pretty girls who are perpetually late for school. I always have the most fun with the first group, but it's nice to observe the last group too, for very different reasons.

I noticed a pretty girl on the bus to school one day. When I stood beside where she was sitting, I could tell from the notes she was reading that she was also from Ngee Ann. But what caught my eye was not her notes, nor her pretty face. It was the obvious fact that she was pregnant, probably already in her third trimester. I wondered if she was ready for motherhood.

A few weeks later, as I walked from canteen 2 after lunch, I saw another pretty girl. No, she wasn't pregnant. Not anymore at least, since she was pushing a pram with a baby sleeping inside. I wanted to stop to admire the baby as the girl approached, but I didn't.

But I adore kids. I love to squat down beside the five-year-old and get busy poking the soil with her. I love to explore the underground labyrinth of the neighborhood drainage system with the adventurous 12-year-old. I love to stump the intelligent and articulate 10-year-old as I ask her the strangest questions. I love to carry the two-year-old in my arms, as I introduce him to the world of texture, letting him feel a leaf, a screw, an uneven wall, a leather surface - anything that we can get our hands on. I love to watch the fascinated face of the seven-year-old as she gets transported to another land as I read Cinderella with full expression.

Even without the seven-year-old, I often read aloud when I'm at home, just for practise. I've always had a tendency to mumble and stumble over the easiest words, especially after too many days of not talking very much, so I find that reading out loud helps to loosen my tongue a little. Of course, that's not the primary reason for reading. I read because

I love reading.

* * *

This has got to be my weirdest and most whimsical post yet. I don't even know if I like it.