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.

Presentation Presumptions

2005-03-09T22:23:00.000+08:00

A girl stood erect as her classmate smoothed out the shoulders of her tight long-sleeved shirt, before coaxing the collar straight. When that was over, she returned the favour to the classmate who was also dressed in a white pin-striped shirt, tight black skirt with a teasing slit revealing a slice of thigh in light stockings leading down to the stealthy stilettos. When they were finally done, the two girls mirrored each other and beamed, completely oblivious to the canteen crowd, or at least acting like they were oblivious, before turning to pick up their leather handbags, fluttering their mascara-marinated eyelashes at anyone still looking, and sashaying away, just like the way they do on Shenton Way.

Or the 3 loud-talking Ah Bengs swaggering down the corridor in what was meant to be smart and formal attire, yet still looking every bit Beng, even before a (Hokkien) word was uttered. Was it because their shirts were crimson, purple and violet respectively? Or the way they rolled their sleeves? Or how they walked? Or their hair? Or facial features? Or just the whole convergence of dressing and being that screams Beng?

When the Ah Bengs of Ngee Ann Poly start dressing like their Ah Beng sales assistant counterparts of Ngee Ann City, you know that it's the presentation period over here.

This period is the dreaded few weeks a few weeks before the also-dreaded exam period, and pockets of students all over the campus wear their Shenton Way best to face their already-familiar classmates and lecturers, yet be nerve-wreckingly nervous about it.

Others see it as an opportunity to do well, in any and every possible way. Like this friend of mine...

"I'm gonna wear low-cut and a short skirt tomorrow for the presentation."

"For what?" I asked casually, trying to control the urge to arch my eyebrows.

"So Mr C*** will give me more marks," she explained matter-of-factly.

"How many marks do they give you for your dressing? Or the lack of it?" I may have controlled my eyebrows successfully, but my sarcasm was slipping out.

"You know lah... Mr C***... he's that kind lor..." she replied with an air of resignation.

"And you're still going to reveal yourself to him?"

"Aiyah... if I can get more marks, why not?"

"You really think he'll give you more marks for that? I think you'll just end up giving him a free show."

"Then too bad lor..."

Knowing her, I think she just wanted an excuse to wear only the necessities, so I didn't bother to reason with her any further.

But it is my belief that in most cases, the audience does not really care so much about how you dress during your presentation (as long as it's not distracting), especially if your presentation is great. I'd always prefer an engaging presenter who happens to dress badly to an immaculately-dressed one who induces sleep. (I'm talking about male presenters; there may be exceptions for female presenters.)

So yesterday, I did a presentation wearing a T-shirt.

It turned out fine.

I Am Sorry!

2005-03-07T13:22:00.000+08:00

This entry is related to my last two posts.

* * *

I was on the bus when I felt like someone was looking at me. You know that feeling? Anyway, when I looked up, there was this butch staring at me. Okay she was looking at me, or at least in my direction, but I suspect that she was staring straight at me. With a lot of strong and not-so-loving feelings.

I quickly looked away. I'm not about to test the validity of that "hell hath no fury" saying.

Thankfully we went in different directions after we reached school. Well actually she got off before me (thankfully), and I chose to go a different direction.

I think I'm turning into a paranoid hominoid.

Which reminds me...

I'll be going to SMU later in the afternoon to attend some talk.

Wish me luck.

* * *

I hereby publicly and unreservedly apologise to anyone and everyone from the Singapore Management University whom I have offended in any way through my blog.

I beg for your forgiveness.

Note: The above apology expires after 1800hrs today.

Damage Control

2005-03-04T01:00:00.000+08:00

Thanks to my one-sided reporting in my last post ("Girls Kicking Balls"), I'm getting a bit of flak, and even HATE MAIL!!!

If you've been following my blog, you'd know how much I love hate mail, and how hard I've been trying to get hate mail.

And how I wasn't that successful.

The irony is, just when I wasn't thinking about getting hatemail, it comes.

Moral of the story: you don't have to try to get people to hate you; people will hate you anyway.

But back to the hatemail.

Tada!

your a f***ed up piece of s***

- Anonymous

Unfortunately, due to the family-unfriendly language used, I have to asterisk out the strong language.

But can you feel the outrage? the fury?

Notice the first word used, your. Ms Anonymous (I'm assuming a female this time) was so incensed that proper English grammar was hurled out of the window. Ms Anonymous, it's supposed to be you're instead of your, because you really meant you are, and you're is a contraction of you are. You've made a common error of using a homonym of the correct word, instead of the correct word itself. I hope that helps.

With the hate mail properly taken care of, let me deal with the more legitimate comments from the SMU players themselves.

Hey there are no butches on our team! Just a couple of girls with short hair. NO BUTCHES!

You know why none of us ripped off our tops? We badly wanted to, but we had no excuse to. Not a single goal scored in the whole tournament = no chance to do topless jigs.

SMU Girl (I'm the ditzy one, in no way representative of my club)

- Joyce

And here's my panicky reply:

die lar - they're actually reading this.

joyce: my profuse apologies about the butch statement. i couldn't tell who was the ditzy one. what number was your jersey?

and i should have cheered for SMU much harder. *sigh*

- calm one

Later on, another SMU player comment came in:

hey.. thanks for your comment on the goal kick. it was taken by yours truly. i was definitely taking it as hard as i could. have no idea why my fellow school mate says we can act well. maybe it's just the people he/she mixes with. which is quite sad i must say. anyway, your comment will definitely push me to train even harder to execute proper goal kicks! DEFINITELY!! thank you.

by the way, you might not think the smu gals played well. but i dont really care what you think. we know whether we tried our best and i think that's more impt than anything else.

would also like to add that there are women teams out there who can play. it's just that they are not given as much attention as guys. just becoz you dont see them, doesnt mean they dont exist.

- sharon

Cool.

Actually I did acknowledge that there were good women's teams in my comment reply to amanda:

amanda: the US national women's soccer team can really kick ass. i mean kick ball. (they also rip off their jerseys when they score.) so not all women are bad at soccer

But, as mentioned in the beginning of this post, my coverage was selective and thus not very balanced. So the purpose of this post is to balance things up a little in an attempt to be fair to the players, as well as to ensure that I can walk the streets of Singapore without fear again.

Let's come back to a comment by sharon which I haven't addressed:

by the way, you might not think the smu gals played well. but i dont really care what you think. we know whether we tried our best and i think that's more impt than anything else.

Well, I can't say that the SMU players played well, because I think they didn't. But neither did the NP players.

But I did notice that the SMU girls played with a lot of heart (ok, so did the NP side). I did look into their faces when the game ended, and I saw the downcast and despondent looks of disappointment. And one girl was even in tears.

As they always say - it's not about the winning.

As someone who's been involved in competitive sports, I know how it feels to lose. And I think I've lost more than I've won, at least in tournaments. I've felt the pain, the urge to shed tears in disappointment, even though, stepping back, I knew it made no sense; it's only a game. But the emotions during those times can be strong, and they take over the mind...

I'm rambling.

Maybe it's because I'm not used to blogging in the middle of the night.

Girls, keep playing, no matter what others say.

And have fun!

(And don't kick me!)

Girls Kicking Balls

2005-02-28T14:38:00.000+08:00

A friend from SMU (Singapore Management University) informed me that she would be at our sports complex to watch the NP vs SMU IVP (Institute-Varsity-Polytechnic) soccer match. Women's soccer.

Images of women ripping off their jerseys when they score a goal danced in my head.

"Wat time? Might go peek" was my SMS reply. "Might go peek" sounds a little less desperate than "will go @_@".

I saw the NP team doing their warmups as I entered the stadium. They were dressed in dark blue jerseys, and half the team was butch. Not very promising.

Gathered at the other end of the grandstand was the SMU team, in their yellow jerseys and blue shorts. Not as many butches.

I scanned the NP side of the grandstand, making sure that no one recognising me was around, before feeling safe enough to defect to the SMU side to join my friend. Some non-NP girls for a change.

The teams filed from the grandstand to the field soon after I sat down beside my friend, who was there to lend support to a pal. The people around me, consisting mainly of reserve team members and boyfriends, started cheering their team loudly with "GO SMU!!!" and other hopeful noises. It sounded like they were ready to conquer the world. Or at least the NP team.

I must have looked quite impressed, for my friend quickly assured me that they were being rather optimistic. "They've been getting thrashed every game, like 5-0 kinda thing."

"So this is gonna be a close match," I predicted. I didn't have too much faith on the NP team either.

The game eventually started, and the SMU fans were already cheering wildly. When they were not cheering, they were giving real-time coaching - "CLEAR THE BALL!" "PASS IT!" "STOP HER!" "CROSS THE BALL!" - and all of that simultaneously.

I was quite confused watching the game in the first few minutes. It looked like giant pinball - the ball was getting bumped erratically all over the field in unpredictable directions. But as the game progressed, the strategy of both teams became clearer to me:
1) If the ball is far away from your own goal, try to kick the ball in the general direction of the opponent's goal.
2) If ball is near your own goal, try to kick the ball out of the field.
3) Dammit. Just try to kick the ball!

After a while, I felt like there was something profoundly unsatisfying about the game. It took me some time before I could place a finger on it. No one has actually kicked the ball, hard. It was like watching a carpenter tapping a nail lightly with the hammer, instead of slamming it home. It was like driving a Ferrari in a Bangkok jam (not that I've driven a Ferrari, or been in a Bangkok jam). It was like watching a pr0n movie, but the actress never removes anything (not that I've *cough* watched a pr0n movie *cough* before). In other words, it was driving me to tears.

You see, since the start of the game, the ball has never been sent to sail through the air beyond 10 metres. I needed to see the ball kicked hard. Real hard.

My frustration was finally going to be extinguished when it was time for a goal kick by SMU. One of the players carefully and deliberately placed the ball exactly at the right corner of the goal box. She then took a number of steps diagonally backwards. She must have a powerful kick, since she was the one to do the goal kick instead of the goalkeeper. I trembled with anticipation as she surveyed the field. Would the ball reach half-field? Or three-quarters, as they do it on TV? She then charged towards the ball, wound up her right leg, and swung it hard towards the ball.

pok.

The ball was stopped by an opposing player about 10 metres ahead from her, and the pinball continued.

I almost strangled my friend in despair.

Watching the game solved a mystery that had been on my mind since reading the following (via Daryl Sng, also mentioned by Mr Brown):

Hello,

I am an American living in Thailand, and will be making a visa run to Singapore just after the new year. I would like to meet an attractive woman who is interested kicking or kneeing a man in his balls. Yes, I know it will hurt, but it is a fantasy of mine and I am hoping to find someone who is interested in trying this. I am 32, well educated, good company, and attractive. I would gladly take you to a nice dinner first so we can get to know each other, and we will only do the ballbusting if we are comfortable with one another.

If you are interested, please contact me and I will send a picture. Please describe yourself, and we will take it further if we are both interested.

Thanks, and I hope to hear from you.

The secret is out. Yeah it'll probably hurt, but it'll be quite bearable.

I should give it a try someday. I'm sure a lot of girls from the SMU team would want to kick my ahem when they read this.

Any takers?

* * *

I was going to end the post above, but I'm sure some of you would be interested in the outcome of the game.

NP eventually won the game 1-0 thanks to a free kick near the penalty box. They were very lucky. But I was rather disappointed, because the NP girl who scored forgot to rip off her jersey. *sigh*

I think I'll wait for them to start a beach volleyball team.

Faces of the Internet

2005-02-24T15:41:00.000+08:00

Another one of my long and rambling posts. Beware.

* * *

Whenever I see an infant, I would always try this trick - I would stick out my tongue at the baby, and quite often, the baby sticks out her tongue as well.

This phenomenon made big news in psychology when Andrew Meltzoff discovered it. He tried it on newborn babies who have not seen a mirror before, showing that human babies have some innate understanding of the human face.

At a very young age, children are also able to read another person's emotions. They can tell from your facial expression when you're happy or sad, angry or pleased, and so on. This may not seem like a big deal to most of us since we've always been able to do this, but it's a big deal for psychologists, particularly those who believe that humans are born to be social creatures.

It's also a big deal for parents with autistic children.

Autism, according to the The American Heritage Dictionary, is

A psychiatric disorder of childhood characterized by marked deficits in communication and social interaction, preoccupation with fantasy, language impairment, and abnormal behavior, such as repetitive acts and excessive attachment to certain objects. It is usually associated with intellectual impairment.

In extreme cases of autism, other people are seen as just things or objects that move randomly and make funny noises. And autistic children do not comprehend facial expressions well, if at all.

But back to "normal" children.

It has also been known that infants like to look at the faces of people more than almost anything else, and their favourite face is usually their mother's. My own observations (as a third party observer, not as a mother) has also verified this.

Shown pictures of strangers, babies tend to prefer looking at beautiful faces. Thus babies prefer not to look at me if given the choice. I'm sure you understand why.

And it's not just babies or young children.

We prefer looking at beautiful faces over not-so-beautiful ones. And those of you who are endowed with a beautiful face, I suspect that you enjoy your time facing a mirror. (There are others who spend ages in front of the mirror in an attempt to improve what they see, but that's another story. Trust me, Photoshop is more productive.)

But even if it's not beautiful, the human eye is still naturally drawn to a human face - something that good artists and photographers understand very well, and which has been proven in the lab. Eye-tracking instruments have confirmed that when someone looks at a photograph, their eyes tends to linger on the human face longer than other parts of the picture. (I'm not sure how much this applies to pr0n though.)

Then comes the internet, where communication is largely textual, without the facial component. You don't see the face of the person you email, you don't see that face of that bigoted bastard you're arguing in the forum, you don't see the face of that (hopefully cute) girl you're chatting with on IRC. And for a good number of bloggers, you don't see the face behind all those posts you so enjoy. Sometimes this is okay. Who cares what the bigoted bastard looks like, since you guys are having an intellectual discussion (which almost always becomes emotional anyway)? Who cares what the blogger looks like if she's only providing links to interesting news?

The internet has changed much of how we use text. Strong writers can convey emotions purely through their wordcraft, but most of us find it much easier and more convenient to do that with the aid of smileys and other emoticons.

While smileys and emoticons are often useful and quite effective in communicating emotions across cyberspace, there are times when it falls far short.

Has there been a time when your mind began to form a picture of a particular person online, even though that picture is vague at best and you know it is probably wildly inaccurate anyway? Has there been a time when you were so interested in how that person looked that you even requested a picture? That guy in a particular forum? That evasive blogger? Or that interesting girl you've been chatting with on MSN?

Could it be that a personal dimension has creeped into the picture? Or could it be that you have been moved emotionally in some way?

Then why do you yearn so much, for that picture, that face?

Unfortunately, things don't always go our way in real life. We are disappointed. Disappointed because she refused to send me her pic. Or because he turns out to be ugly. Fugly.

Sometimes it's better to remain faceless.

* * *

Okay this didn't turn out to be as long as I expected, partly because I couldn't figure a way to weave everything in coherently, partly due to this headache I'm having, after being drained dry by a recent event (yes I'm being vague).

Weave everything in coherently. Weave reminds me of another word I've been using in this post - text. Etymologists will know what I'm talking about:

Middle English texte, from Old French, from Late Latin textus, written account, from Latin, structure, context, body of a passage, from past participle of texere, to weave, fabricate.

That's also how we got textile.

Enough of etymology - it's not that useful really, but I enjoy it nonetheless.

And enough rambling.

Face the Truth

2005-02-21T16:15:00.000+08:00

This post will prove to be an important milestone in the short history of this blog, as I will be making some unprecedented moves to counter the regrettable rumours that have been going on for way too long.

But as mentioned in a previous post ("Busting Bogus Beliefs"), I understand that some will still cling tenaciously to their mistaken beliefs, but I feel that that shouldn't stop me from clearing all doubts and suspicions from the minds of the majority who are willing to yield to evidence.

In this post, I shall present - the evidence.

I hope I don't regret this.

Here goes.

* * *

I've said a number of times that I look like Wo-Hen, better known as Asian Prince.

I personally find him to be a fine specimen of manhood, although I understand that your tastes may be different.

And thus, in my own eyes, I feel that I'm not too bad-looking myself. The only difference is that he has a beautifully manicured moustache, while I don't.

Talk about an uncanny resemblance! That's almost identical to what I see in the mirror every day.

Except for those lovely locks, which I unfortunately lack. That hairdo may be suitable for royalty like Wo-Hen, but it's far too inconvenient for someone with a (relatively) active lifestyle like mine.

Thankfully, it's not too difficult to find someone on the internet who has a similar hairstyle like mine. It's even easier if that person is a celebrity.

Yup, that's Steven Lim, the real Singapore Idol, as far as I'm concerned (sorry Taufik). He's holding what I believe to be an instrument for plucking eyebrows (ladies, correct me if I'm wrong).

Anyway, I've got his hairstyle, and coincidentally, the rest of my torso looks like his too.

With Wo-Hen's face (sans moustache) and Steven's hairdo and body, what do you get?

Yup.

You get me. Calm One.

I look calm, don't I? Now you understand why I call myself the Calm One.

Now tell me, do I even look like Jay Chou?

For those of you who don't know how Jay Chou looks like, here's his picture for your convenience.

With so many chicks after him, I don't understand why he looks so unhappy.

Ah, that's much better.

Tell me honestly - do I look like Jay Chou?
(Model answer: Not at all!)

* * *

I offer my sincere apologies to anyone who is upset or disappointed after seeing my pictures. But would you rather I show you the ugly truth, or pretend that I do look like Jay Chou? (Don't answer!)

Ah well, now that the truth is out, if you see me at the Ngee Ann library, do say "hi" to me ok? Or at the very least, hand over the latest New Scientist if you happen to be holding on to it.

P.S. Cheeky "really resembles Jay Chou a lot, but only on Tuesday and Thursday." Jay Chou fans, go stalk him and let me rest in peace.

Scam Baiting Part 3

2005-02-19T10:40:00.000+08:00

This is part 3 of a series of "scam baiting posts".
Part 1 (" Scam Baiting: URGENT REPLY NEEDED") started when I was bored enough to reply to a scammer, purportedly from Sierra Leone. He was baiting me with over 1 million USD to participate with him in some fantastic deal. I also asked for his picture.
Part 2 was where he started to get insistent on having my number, while I started getting insistent of having his picture. His nude picture.

He replies after a number of days, and I must admit that I'm beginning to like him. I present you his reply below.

* * *

DEAR CALMONE,

I RECIEVED YOUR MAIL BUT I AM SHY TO SEND YOU NUDE PICTURE BUT IF YOU SEND ME YOURS I THINK I WILL THEN HAVE THE GUTS TO SEND YOU MINE [I AM SHY].

PLEASE SEND ME YOUR MOBILE NUMBER SO THAT I CAN CALL YOU TO HEAR YOUR VOICE TOO WHILE I WAIT TO SEE YOUR PICTURE.

YOURS EVER

MARK

* * *

I couldn't help but laugh when I read it. This guy has a sense of humour, and how can I not like him? And he's rich too! If only he'd send me his picture.

I finally got round to sending him a reply after a few days.

* * *

Mark my love,

I am very sad and disappointed that you did not send me your nude picture.
Since you want my nude picture, I will send to you, but I hope you do
not show other people, for I am very shy too.
I have attached my picture in this email. I hope you like me.
Please send me your nude picture soon. Please do not disappoint me again.

Loving kisses,
Calmone

File attached: calm_naked.jpg

* * *

Of course, calm_naked.jpg was renamed from tubgirl.jpg.
(If you're curious about tubgirl.jpg is, just google "tubgirl". Do it discreetly, and not after a heavy meal.)

Many thanks to those of you who gave me the tubgirl idea =)

Busting Bogus Beliefs

2005-02-16T12:52:00.000+08:00

It is somewhat unfortunate that the recent posts of this blog have taken a downward trend in terms of intellectual content, a trend in which I shall hereby seek to reverse with this post.

This downward trend, as a number of you may have noted, has been caused by insidious rumours about the close resemblance of my facial appearance with that of a certain male celebrity. These rumours, as I have repeatedly stated, are completely unfounded and fictional.

Having stated my stand, I shall not touch on this particular subject, ever again.

* * *

One interesting thing about human beings in general is their ability to belief anything they want to, even in the face of evidence proving the contrary.

For example, a girl may keep insist that her boyfriend loves her even though he treats her like dirt (except on valentine's day), and everyone else knows that he's just making use of her.

Or how you hope against hope that you might win the Grand Prize for this TOTO lottery. Or maybe the next time, after the results have been announced for this time. Or, perhaps, the next one. Or the one after. (Please email me if you've won it before.)

Or the belief that God doesn't exist, if you're an atheist. (Sorry Christians, you've already been targeted in a previous post, now it's time to offend the atheists.) Consider this scenario:

Atheist: There is no god.

Theist: You're wrong. God exists.

Atheist: Oh yeah? Then show her to me.

Theist: Him you mean. We humans can't command God what to do, and God is not obligated to show Himself to You.

Atheist: Ah... then God doesn't exist!

Theist: ....

Familiar scenario?

But what if the following ensued:

Atheist: Ah... then God doesn't exist!

Theist: ....

GOD: I AM HERE.

*Theist falls on his knees*

Theist: Oh my God!!!

Atheist: Ermm... who are you? You're kinda... glaring...

GOD: I AM. GOD.

Atheist: I'm sorry, god doesn't exist.

GOD: I AM GOD. I EXIST.

Atheist: Prove to me that you're god.

*Lightning strikes, earth shakes, strong wind blows*

GOD: PROVEN.

Atheist: Well... you've only proven that you're are kinda powerful, but you're not god.

*Creature with seven heads and ten legs appear out of nowhere*

GOD: PROVEN.

Atheist: That's kinda impressive, but like I said, you're kinda powerful, and I do have to admit that I haven't met anyone quite as powerful as you before. But this doesn't prove that god exists.

GOD: WHAT PROOF DO YOU NEED?

Atheist: Easy, just show her to me!

GOD: HIM. I AM GOD!

Atheist: Oh no you're not - god doesn't exist!

As you can see, if the atheist has already decided that God doesn't exists, nothing can change his mind, not even God.

Which reminds me of something.

Some time ago I wrote about how a friend of mine told me that I remind her of Jay Chou. I REMIND HER of Jay Chou, not LOOK LIKE Jay Chou (PLEASE READ CAREFULLY!).

I suppose it's partly my fault. I should have known that a particular group of readers start to hyperventilate and get high once they see 'Jay Chou'. And once they're in that hyperconscious state, they are unable to read carefully. And just because I was somehow linked to Jay Chou in the post, the automatic (BUT ERRONEOUS) conclusion they get is that I look like Jay Chou. I DO NOT.

Pardon me for repeating many times that I DO NOT LOOK LIKE JAY CHOU. It's the only way to get the message across to some readers.

However, as I have illustrated earlier, no matter how much I insist I DO NOT LOOK LIKE JAY CHOU, some readers will still cling on to that BOGUS BELIEF.

Take the following familiar scenario:

(Online)

Fanatical Fantasizer: Oh Calm One the Jay Chou lookalike!

Calm One: I DO NOT LOOK LIKE JAY CHOU!

Fanatical Fantasizer: Post your photo to prove it.

Calm One: It's against Calm One policy to post my photo online.

Fanatical Fantasizer: There! You DO LOOK LIKE JAY CHOU!!!!

Calm One: OKAY OKAY I'll post my photo!!!

Fanatical Fantasizer: YAY!!!!

*Calm One posts his photo*

Fanatical Fantasizer: HEY!!! That doesn't look like Jay Chou! That looks more like... Asian Prince!!! You LIAR!!!

Calm One: I told you before that I look like Asian Prince, but you refused to believe...

Fanatical Fantasizer: You didn't post your REAL photo!!!

Calm One: B..but... that IS my REAL photo!!!

Fanatical Fantasizer: I don't believe you!!!

Calm One: Nothing I can do about that...

Fanatical Fantasizer: Oh yes there's something you can do...

Calm One: Like?

Fanatical Fantasizer: We could meet up! *beams*

Calm One: No way! That's against Calm One policy!

Fanatical Fantasizer: You don't want me to see you because you look like Jay Chou!

Calm One: I DON'T LOOK LIKE JAY CHOU!!!

Fanatical Fantasizer: Prove it! Let's meet up!

Calm One: Damn...

Fanatical Fantasizer: That's the ONLY way you can prove it...

Calm One: OKAY LAH OKAY LAH!!!

Fanatical Fantasizer: YAAAAAAYYY!!!!

Calm One: Sheeesh...

(Some time later, in a seedy shopping centre in a corner of Singapore, two people meet.)

Calm One: Hi..

Fanatical Fantasizer: Er... you look like

Fanatical Fantasizer & Calm One (together): Asian Prince!

Calm One: Yup. I'm Calm One.

Fanatical Fantasizer: Oh no you're not!!!

Calm One: Yes I am!

Fanatical Fantasizer: But you don't look like Jay Chou!!! You imposter! You identity theif! Get lost!!!

Calm One: But... I AM Calm One!!!

Fanatical Fantasizer: Calm One looks like Jay Chou, but YOU look like Asian Prince! Get lost!!!

Calm One: but....

Fanatical Fantasizer: GET LOST!!!!! *sobs* Calm One cheated me....

It's always like this. If the truth does not conform to your cherished belief, there's nothing anyone can do to change it.

Face it. The truth hurts sometimes.

* * *

By the way, hatemail is still welcome. Thanks in advance.

Interview with the Calm One

2005-02-16T00:04:00.000+08:00

Interviewer: Thank you taking time out from your busy schedule to let me interview you...

Calm One: Let's cut the niceties and get on with the interview, before I change my mind...

Interviewer: Sure. But before we do that, I need you to understand that everything said during this interview will be posted on...

Calm One: I know lah.

I: Okay okay... let's start with the first question, the one that all your readers are dying to find out...

C: It's only a tiny minority of them...

I: Okay whatever. *Ahem* Do you, or do you not, look like Jay Chou?

C: Judge for yourself - it's obvious.

I: I know lah, but I just wanted to have it straight from the horse's mouth.

C: I am not a horse.

I: Okay lah whatever. So do you look like Jay Chou?

C: You tell me.

I: Obviously you don't lah. But please answer the question, just for the record.

C: Fine. I do NOT, look like Jay Chou!

I: Relak lah... no need to get so worked up...

I: ... but won't your readers get disappointed?

C: Maybe they would, but what can I do? The truth hurts, and I'd rather be brutally honest with them now, than let them cling on to a wishful fantasy, only to be totally devastated much later when they finally find out the ugly truth.

I: Well... to make it easier for your readers to make the transition towards the truth, I think I'll just tell everyone that you do resemble Jay Chou, but just a leeetle bit...

C: I'll kill you if you do.

I: You can't kill me.

C: Why not?

I: Cos I'm just a figment of your imagination.

C: Hmmm.... but I still can shut you up.

I: Like how?

C: Like this. End of interview.

* * *

This interview is further proof that I DO NOT LOOK LIKE JAY CHOU!!!!

Happy Valentine's Day!

2005-02-14T15:04:00.000+08:00

A woman was standing at the school gates this morning selling roses.

So it must be St Valentine's Day today oh yeah!

"Would you like to buy one for your girlfriend?"

"No thanks my boyfriend hates flowers," I wanted to say. In my cowardice, I only managed the first 2 words.

* * *

I need to stop myself. I just realised that I've been saying unhappy things about the last few supposedly-joyous occasions, including CNY, New Year, and Xmas. Wouldn't it be too predictable for me to go on a rampage about how hypocritical and hollow the whole Valentine shebang?

Just for once, just for today, just for you,
I shall be uncharacteristically positive about St Valentine's Day, and list down why I sincerely feel that it's really a great day.

1.

psssst... quick, someone help me out here... i need ideas!

Scam Baiting Part 2

2005-02-13T23:10:00.000+08:00

This post continues on from a previous post (" Scam Baiting: URGENT REPLY NEEDED"), where I was bored enough to reply to a scammer, purportedly from Sierra Leone.

I present you his reply below.

* * *

DEAR MR. CALMONE,

I GOT YOUR MAIL AND I WISH TO TELL YOU THAT I AM GLAD TO DO FUTURE BUSINESS WITH YOU.

AS I TOLD YOU, 25% IS FOR YOU IN THE TRANSACTION AFTER YOU HAVE CLAIMED THE MONEY.

AS I ALSO TOLD YOU, I AM NOT GOOD IN ANY BUSINESS SO YOU HAVE TO CHOOSE THE MOST PROFITABLE ORIENTED BUSINESS THAT WE ARE GOING TO ENGAGE OURSELVE WITH.

PLEASE DO GIVE ME YOUR INFORMATION THAT IS YOUR MOBILE NUMBER TO ENABLE ME SEND IT TO MY FATHERS LAWYER IN LONDON SO THAT HE CAN REACH YOU EASILY.

BE INFORMED THAT THE LAWYER ASKED ME HOW I GOT TO KNOW YOU BUT I TOLD HIM THAT I KNEW YOU THRU MY FATHER WHILE HE WAS ALIVE. THE LAWYER IS WORRIED BECAUSE HE WANTS BE TO DEAL WITH THE RIGHT PERSON AND I HAVE TOLD HIM THAT YOU ARE HONEST AND SINCERE AND WILLING TO ASSIST ME.

THE LAWYER ASSURED ME THAT AFTER HE CONCLUDES WITH YOU, THAT HE WILL FLY TO BANGKOK THAILAND FOR THE NECESARY DOCUMENTATIONS AND THE CHANGE OF OWNERSHIP OF THE FUND TO YOUR NAME FOR YOUR EASY CLAIM AND TRANSFER.

THANKS AND HOPING TO HEAR FROM YOU.

FROM

MARK

* * *

It didn't seem to register that I wasn't giving him my number because it's the Chinese New Year etc. Anyway, I was starting to get tired of the game, so I decided a different approach.

* * *

Darling Mark,

Sorry I couldn't reply to you sooner, as I've been busy with the
Chinese New Year celebrations. It's been a great New Year with loads
of wine, men, and song. In fact, I think I'm still a bit drunk. I'll
get back to you as soon as I start thinking straight - this business
is important to me so I need to think straight before I can make the
right decisions.

Oh, could I please, pretty please have your photo?

Love and kisses,
Calmone.

* * *

This Mark guy is really lucky. Not everyone gets love letters from me you know...
It pays to offer me a lot of money!

I was thinking that I wouldn't be hearing from him anymore, but I was completely wrong.

* * *

DEAR CALMONE,

I RECIEVED YOUR MAIL AND I AM VERY GLAD TO HEAR THAT YOU HAD A WONDERFUL NEW YEAR THANKS BE TO GOD.

MY FATHERS LAWYER IS DEMANDING FOR YOUR CONTACT DETAILS SO PLEASE TRY TO GET A TELEPHONE NUMBER AS YOU SAID SO THAT I WILL SEND HIM YOUR DETAILS TO ENABLE HIM REACH YOU.

I WILL SEND YOU MY PICTURE AS SOON AS I GET THE CHANCE.

WITH LUV

* * *

With luv??? Wow, he must be pretty desperate to want to play along. Or could he be gay? Let's see how he responds to this...

* * *

My Dearest Beloved Mark,

Could you send me your nude picture too?

Dying to hear from you,
Calmone

* * *

Who knows, in another corner of blogosphere could be a blog owned by Mark, and he's publishing our loving exchange, letting his readers have a great laugh at some guy named Calmone.

Whatever

2005-02-11T12:44:00.000+08:00

I was beginning to habour thoughts of inadequacy as a blogger and writer, particularly after my post ("Hate Mail Bait") which was meant to garner some hatemail. As you may know, all the hatemail (comments) I got were ones which were posted just to make me happy (and thus shut me up), or even thinly disguised attempts at mocking me!

And no, that wasn't all. To rub salt and sulphur into my already-gaping wound, there were utterly unfounded rumours about my looks (I ABSOLUTELY DO NOT LOOK LIKE JAY CHOU CHEE *cough*!) and singing ability (NOR SING LIKE HIM!), people advertising their infidel blogs (I hate the guy - he's got more hatemail than I have lovemail), people matchmaking my readers (ok - I'm also guilty), flirtation between my readers (and they were brazen enough to leave me out!), asking for my personal particulars (not because they want to hunt me down to kill me, but because they want to hunt me down for worse reasons), love declarations, marriage proposals...

You don't know how much grief and anguish I had to suffer through reading those comments of yours. Did you not care how much time and effort I spent on that post? (Yuppers, it's probably my longest post yet!) Did you not sense my disappointment or sympathise with my unfortunate plight as non-hatemail after non-hatemail appeared in my comments page?

Just when I was starting to entertain blogicidal thoughts again, this time in anger and disappointment mingled with thoughts of despair and agony *sniff*, someone called "whatever" finally, finally ended my misery five days after the post appeared.

Before I proudly present to you the abovementioned hatemail, let me paste a comment response of mine to another reader, which "whatever" alluded to:

i've heard it said many times that it takes more faith to be an atheist, but i think u should stop using this argument cos atheists are simply not gonna buy it - it's not very convincing.
you're right that reason can't explain everything, but the issue i have (against anybody, not just christians) is just because reason can't explain it all, they think that it is reasonable to become unreasonable ('beyond reason', they call it), or that it is logical to be illogical ('beyond logic').
if you want to convince me of your views, fine, but at least be reasonable about it, then we have a common ground to communicate. if you can't be reasonable, have a nice day.

With that as the backdrop, ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you my first real hatemail, by "whatever", in its unadulterated and pristine condition, for your admiration:

dear calm one

how can you claim to be reasonable when you set out to be flamed?

i don't know you, but i have no doubt that you're a bright guy.

what i hate abt you is that you strike me to be a pompous ass. you obviously know that you're intelligent and you act as if everyone else is beneath you. plus you have no tolerance for anyone or anything that's different. yet it's ironic that you're not exactly "ordinary" yourself.

i'm a catholic but i wouldn't have bothered to respond even if you trashed the religion. we're all entitled to our own views and beliefs.

i'm writing because i think your attitude stinks.

even though you deny it, i do believe that you resurrected your blog because you crave the attention and enjoy getting your intellect affirmed.

over 90% of people in this world believe in a God. what makes you so special? perhaps it'll do you some good to take up a religion... one with a long, documented and undisputed history that i reckon you prefer.

perhaps then your worldview would change and along with it your personality.

some things are better left mysterious. we don't have all the answers because we're not meant to. not everything has to be steeped in knowledge. let go and you'll be a happier person.

it's been nice not knowing you.

whatever | 08.02.05 - 9:52 pm

Beautiful, don't you think?

* * *

It's tempting just the leave that artfully-crafted hatemail as it is, but I'm sure if I leave it alone for too long, some of you will not be able to resist a bit of arson. But since this is my blog, I feel I deserve to make the first move. You can have the leftovers after I'm done. Hurhurhur.

So may I present the same piece of art, sacrilegiously vandalised by me. (I shall assume that "whatever" is male, purely out of convenience.)

dear calm one

Dear calm one? Not bad - biting sarcasm right from the very start. Very promising.

how can you claim to be reasonable when you set out to be flamed?

Eh... why not? I am reasonable, therefore I am reasonable. hurhurhur.
Let's hope he catches my mocking irony.

i don't know you, but i have no doubt that you're a bright guy.

*cough* Let's hope he's not being sarcastic here.

what i hate abt you is that you strike me to be a pompous ass.

Did you spot that? I mean, DID YOU SPOT THAT???? "what i HATE abt you" - he actually mentioned the 4-letter word!
Ladies and gentlemen, it's official, it's there in black and white: this is pure, unadulterated hatemail!

And I'm a "pompous ass"! Guys, you don't know how excited I am. Pompous ass - how cool is that???

Ok, let me calm down - I'm getting too excited for myself. Besides, I'm supposed to be the Calm pompous assed One.

you obviously know that you're intelligent and you act as if everyone else is beneath you.

Uhhh... sorry hor, I dun get it. My readers are all highly intelligent, and I treat them as my intellectual equals, and they prove their intelligence and worth by their appreciation for my subtle humour.

Waitaminute - I think I now have ONE reader who isn't quite... nevermind.

plus you have no tolerance for anyone or anything that's different. yet it's ironic that you're not exactly "ordinary" yourself.

Goody - I'm now an intolerant pompous ass. Or is it pompous intolerant ass? Whatever.

By the way, "whatever", I have little tolerance for people who can't be reasonable, but if you are reasonable, whatever your belief or worldview, we can talk. Read my comment quoted above again (more carefully this time).

i'm a catholic but i wouldn't have bothered to respond even if you trashed the religion. we're all entitled to our own views and beliefs.

You're certainly entitled to believe that I'm a pompous intolerent ass. HEEHAW!
And perhaps you're even right about it. HEEHAW! HEEHAW!

Friendly Tip: If I were you, "whatever", I wouldn't go around declaring that I'm a catholic, unless I want to give Catholicism a bad name. They're already getting enough bad press from pedophiliac priests and Dan Brown books.

i'm writing because i think your attitude stinks.

Pompous, intolerent ass with a thinking attitude. Stinking attitude I mean.

even though you deny it, i do believe that you resurrected your blog because you crave the attention and enjoy getting your intellect affirmed.

Great technique - make claims about me which I won't be able to convincingly falsify without closing down the blog. E.g.

Me: That wasn't why I revived my blog.

Whatever: Oh yeah? Close down your blog to prove it!

Me: ...

Whatever: There - you can't prove it. So you DO crave the attention and enjoy the affirmation after all!

So now I'm a pompous, attention-craving, intolerent ass with a stinking attitude.

(But, "whatever", if it makes you feel better, this blog will be killed in a few months anyway. But still, that wouldn't disprove that I crave the attention.)

over 90% of people in this world believe in a God.

Wow, he has statistics to back his point, whatever that point is. Not too many generations ago, over 99% of people in this world believed that the world was flat.

And by the way, from what I know, the figure is closer to 80%, and it includes not just theists, but deists, polytheists, pantheists, panentheists, etc.
(If you can't convince them, confound them with big "-eists" words. Actually I don't know what's the point I'm trying to make here either. Heh.)

what makes you so special?

I don't know what makes me special, but what makes YOU special is that you're the first one to send me serious hatemail! You should feel honoured!

perhaps it'll do you some good to take up a religion... one with a long, documented and undisputed history that i reckon you prefer.

And I don't get the point here either. I don't know of any religion with that satisfies all those conditions - long, documented and undisputed history. *scratches head*

If you're referring to Roman Catholicism, the "undisputed" part of it would be completely laughable. Just take, say, the relationship of Pope Pius XII and Hitler. No dispute? I could go on and on and on...

perhaps then your worldview would change and along with it your personality.

You may have noticed that I have no personality to speak of, let alone change. Poor me.

some things are better left mysterious. we don't have all the answers because we're not meant to. not everything has to be steeped in knowledge. let go and you'll be a happier person.

*Sigh* He should really have read my comment (quoted above) properly, where I did say that "reason can't explain everything". But I don't blame him. When you're angry, and you want to get your point across, you have to get that point across, even though the guy you're angry with already agrees with you.

it's been nice not knowing you.

Awww... so poignant...

* * *

Not everyone gets to be the centre of attraction in my blog post. It pays to send me hatemail.

Predictions for the New Year

2005-02-08T01:02:00.000+08:00

I was in NP's lifestyle library (again) just now, and decided to see what's in the latest issue of New Scientist. I cursed under my breath as I approached the shelf, for someone had already taken it. Must be one of my blog readers. Or blogders, as Xiaxue terms it. I made a mental note never to mention the magazines I actually read on this blog ever again, so my readers won't deprive me of my enjoyment.

Still slightly surly, I went over to another shelf to grab a copy of Teenage Magazine *cough*.

I had actually skimmed through the issue before, but I wanted to read the article entitled Life, Reinvented a little more carefully, as the stuff wasn't easy - DNA, synthetic biology, etc.

I had great difficulty concentrating.

No, it wasn't because of that Ah Lian in a microskirt sitting nearby who kept flicking her blonde hair over her shoulder.

The library was playing Chinesy Chinese music. Best of all, some of the tracks got stuck and thus kept repeating, like a Fatboy Slim arrangement gone wrong.

So Chinese New Year is coming.
yay.

* * *

Today marks the last day of the goat year, and tomorrow ushers in the new Year of the Cock.

My friend, you have been reading my blog faithfully, and I think I owe you the truth. The painful truth.

You know how it is during the Chinese New Year season - everyone wishes everyone else a year of prosperity, good fortune, success, wealth, blah, blah, blah, but how often has any those wishes come true for you? And if it has, did it come every year?

My dear friend, they've been lying to you.

This is why, whenever someone wishes me a "gong xi fa cai", I am tempted to show them the symbol of the cock with my finger. Somehow this CNY seems particularly appropriate for that...

* * *

Predictions for the New Cock Year

The truth hurts, and because of that, many of us don't really want the truth - we're far happier listening and believing lies.

Unconvinced?

"Darling, does this dress make my butt look big?"

"My dear, this dress, that dress, or no dress, your butt is big."

You get the idea.

If you can't handle the truth, go to another site. (Maybe not, since I'm still hoping for hatemail.) There must be a gazillion other cock-year-prediction sites which will tickle your ears and make you happy. But I, the Calm One, will tell you the truth.

So what will this Year of the Cock bring you?

You will meet many cockanadans. More than ever before. In fact, it will be painfully obvious to you that just about everyone around you is a cockanadan. If you don't notice that happening, it's because you, too, have turned into a cockanadan.

You will be talking a lot of cock. More than ever before. As you will be mixing with the cockanadans around you, or as you become one yourself, talking cock will become unavoidable. And if you're a blogger, I'll leave it to you to figure out what will happen to many of your posts this coming year.

You will have many cock-ups in your endeavors. More than ever before. It's one thing to just talk (talk cock), but when cockanadans actually start doing things, what else can you expect?

It's bad enough to meet cockanadans, but you will also meet cocky people. Cocky cockanadans. Enough said.

Happy new cock year. hurhurhur.

Scam Baiting: URGENT REPLY NEEDED

2005-02-07T16:28:00.000+08:00

Update: There's more correspondence.

* * *

Instead of getting hatemail, I get mail from someone calling me dear beloved. *sigh*

* * *

URGENT REPLY NEEDED

Dear Beloved,
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.

* * *

Gosh I'm so touched. He wants to give me a lot of money. Simply irresistable.

* * *

Re: URGENT REPLY NEEDED

Hi Mark,

I'd be interested in helping you with this, but do I get anything out of it?
Also, I don't have a fax - is that ok with you?

Rgds,
Calmone.

* * *

This is gonna be so much fun. Good way to keep my mind off the lack of hatemail.

* * *

THANKS

Dear Mr. Calmone,

Sir,

I recieved your mail with thanks and I want you to know that your intrest in the transaction is that you are going to be my investment partner in any business that you deem suitable in your country.

Hence the money is transfered to your account, we will enter into partnership and you will have 25% of every proceed from the company.

Do send to me your telephone, fax and your mobile so that I will send it to my fathers lawyer who is based in London to effect all the necesary arrangement to see that the fund is transfered to your account.

Upon the transfer of the money into your account, I will then make arrangement to meet with you in your country for onwards bussiness.

Thanks and hoping to hear from you soonest.

From

Mark Ncube

* * *

Re: THANKS

Hey Mark,

Did you say 25%?? Isn't that US$1,825,000? Sounds like an interesting
deal. I'm deinitely interested.

Are there any particular are of business that you're interested in? I
have some contacts, and I could do some research so that we can get
into business soon.

You think we still can do the deal without a fax machine? I don't have
a fax machine you see (I'm not a businessperson myself). But if you
can send me a few hundred dollars first, I'll be most happy to buy a
fax machine just to see this deal through!

Or if that's too much trouble, you could always scan the necessary
documents and email them to me, and I can print them out on my side.
How does that sound?

I do have a mobile, but I'll be changing to a new number very soon.
You see, the Chinese New Year is in 2 days, and we chinese people like
to change to new things for the new year - new clothes, new computer,
new mobile, etc. I'll give you my new number as soon as I get it.

Well, thanks so much for getting me involved!

P.S. I heard Sierra Leone guys are good-looking. You think you could
send me your picture? Just curious how you look.

Cheers,
Calmone

* * *

I was wondering whether to take the dumb path, or the gay path. Maybe both. Let's see if he wants his pic on my blog.

Anyway, ideas and suggestions are most welcome =)

Hate Mail Bait

2005-02-03T12:14:00.000+08:00

Mr Brown recently told a few of us bloggers that he likes receiving hatemail.

Hate mail? I've never received hatemail.

It was then when I suddenly felt incomplete as a blogger. Mr Brown gets hatemail, Xiaxue gets hatemail, but me?

So one of the reasons why I had to come back is to solicit some hatemail.

I learnt from Xiaxue that one of the ways to draw hate mail is to say bad things about celebs like Fiona Xie. (To be honest, I don't even know how Fiona Xie looks like.)

Anyway, I happen to know a couple of local TV celebs personally. But because they are friends (although not close), I can't get myself to say anything bad about them. In fact, I don't even want to mention their names here.

As for the other celebs, I don't know anything exclusive about them, nor do I care to - they're not worth my time anyway.

Looks like I'll have to look elsewhere for hatemail.

The next obvious place, is obviously religion.

Particularly the monotheistic religions.

We don't encounter too many Jews here in Singapore, so my experience with them is quite limited. And I doubt any of my readers are Jews, so I probably won't get any hatemail.

The next oldest major monotheistic religion is Christianity. I've got ample experience with Christians. But Xiaxue has been giving them so much flak lately, so maybe I'll give them a break this time.

That leaves me with Islam.

But I guess not. I'm trying to attract hatemail, not fatwas. And I don't exactly want to see my picture appearing in Arabic websites.

So I guess I have little choice.

Here goes...

* * *

I was walking towards the school gate to go home one evening a few weeks back when 3 guys came in the school gate. I immediately sensed something queer about them by the way they spied me from the corner of their eyes. I would have thought that they were gays looking for another orgy member if they were better groomed. They looked more like the typical poly nerd - old polo T-shirt tucked deep into the jeans and probably underwear. I instinctively wanted to avoid them, but couldn't as we were already on the same path.

The one leading the pack spoke up nervously when he came close enough.

"Can I talk to you for a while?"

He wouldn't make a good gay, even if he wanted to.

"No thanks I don't have time," was my knee-jerk response.

The guy looked visibly relieved. I was half-expecting him to give me one of those super-slick smartass but-I'm-sure-you'll-have-time-to-die responses.

So we parted ways. And I immediately regretted my decision.

You see, the guy was obviously some kind of trainee, judging from the smug looks of the 2 guys with him. It would have been so much fun to have them realise that they were not dealing with the usual prey, and have the 2 'supervisors' to jump in to bail the trainee out, only to realise that they would need bailing out themselves. Maybe next time.

Note to self: the next time a religiot comes along, don't run for cover!

* * *

It would help alot if it was a gorgeous babe coming up to me and telling me about her religion. For some reason it has never happened to me. I hear the Children of God sect is banned in Singapore.

* * *

The next opportunity came along when I was about to go home again (why must they always pounce on me when I'm going home?).

In fact, they must have been from the same group, as one of them who was spying at me at the atrium was one of the 2 supervisors I mentioned earlier. I soon felt someone trailing me, and I instinctively quickened my pace, forgetting about my previous note to self. A guy was soon beside me, and started introducing me to Christianity...

This guy was confident, and was probably quite a veteran in evangelism. I politely humoured him for a while as he ran through the basics, before I started to get impatient and a tad contemptuous.

"You know, I already know everything you've talked about, and more. And I won't be surprised if I know more than you."

He responded with his eyebrows.

I went on to spew out some big theological terms too see if he would be impressed. And he was.

"Are you sure you're not a Christian?"

I had to laugh. You see, I told him earlier that I wasn't a Christian.

"Have you heard of a Christian claiming not to be one? It's like an honest guy claiming to be a liar."

"Then how come you know so much?"

"I read."

He had to pause to let those 2 words sink in. I don't blame him - it's something hard to swallow.

Anyway, he went on to talk about other things. Standard technique - if you hit a wall, try another direction.

We soon started talking about the Bible. He declared that it was God's word.

"But how do you know it's God's word?" I challenged him.

By then, I had already profiled him, and decided that he was simply no match, and it was starting to get a little tiring. I felt like a lion who has gotten bored of playing games with its prey, and suddenly decided that it was time to eat.

He was quite prepared for the challenge. Or so he thought. "First, I'm sure you know that the Bible has survived with us through thousands of years, because God preserved it. It has also survived unchanged throughout the ages. The Bible is also the world's bestselling book..."

I had to stop him - he was overwhelming me with blatant fallacies, and I prefer to deal with a fallacy at a time.

"Wait.. hang on, hang on... aren't the Vedas older than the Bible?"

"The what?"

I tried not to roll my eyeballs.

"The Hindu scriptures. They're much older than the Bible. So maybe the Hindu gods preserved their scriptures?"

He soon had to admit that his first claim was fallacious.

"So does that prove that the Bible is not God's word?"

"No, of course not..." he must have been trying to think really hard.

"You're cheating. You claim something, and you give me the evidence, but I show you that your evidence is false, yet you still insist that your original claim is still valid."

I had to rephrase that a few times before it made sense to him.

Then I threw the challenge that I had been waiting so long for.

"You say that the Bible is God's word because it's been unchanged over all these many years, am I right?"

He cautiously agreed.

"Now what if I can prove to you that the Bible has actually been changed? Would that mean that the Bible is not God's word?"

"Prove it to me."

"You haven't answered my question. Would that mean that the Bible is not God's word? You see, what you're trying to do is this - when I show you that the Bible has changed, you'll again come up with another reason why the Bible is God's word. So tell me, if I can prove to your satisfaction that there has been changes to the Bible, would it show that the Bible is not God's word?"

He thought for a moment, and swallowed hard.

"Yes. Prove it to me."

I felt a mixture of excitement and pity. I had no intention of shaking his faith, but maybe it would be good learning experience for him.

"Let's have a look at your Bible."

He handed it to me. It was falling apart. Good on him, he's been reading his Bible.

"So you use the NIV," I observed. (The NIV is currently the best-selling Bible translation.)

"Let's look at first John," I turned to the section I was looking for.

"Look at chapter 5, and verses 7 and 8."

7 For there are three that testify:
8 the Spirit, the water and the blood; and the three are in agreement.

"Notice there's a footnote? Let's see what it says."

Late manuscripts of the Vulgate -
testify in heaven: the Father, the Word and the Holy Spirit, and these three are one.
8 And there are three that testify on earth: the (not found in any Greek manuscript before the sixteenth century)

"It says, 'not found in any Greek manuscript before the sixteenth century' - meaning that the manuscripts before the 16th century are different from the later ones. And where there's a difference, there's a change. So the Bible has changed after all. So what can we conclude? I'll let you decide." I didn't want to push him too far. You know, people can get unstable when their cherished beliefs are seriously challenged.

He finally spoke up after a pregnant pause, "I'll have to check on this."

"Of course, of course. I don't expect you to change what you believe here and now - it makes sense for you to find out more right? Nice talking to you!"

He stopped me before I could go.

"Maybe we should meet up for some Bible study?"

And I thought I was audacious.

"No thanks. I prefer doing it myself thank you. It's late now, and I'm starving. Have a nice day!"

* * *

I really have nothing against Christians or Christianity. In fact, Christianity happens to be my favourite religion, even though I'm an infidel. Nor do I expect the average Christian to know as much as I do, so I don't blame the guy. It's just too bad that he awakened the predatory instincts of the wrong guy. Maybe it'll encourage him to learn a little more about his own beliefs.

If you're a Christian, go ahead and defend the Bible as God's word, but if I were you, I wouldn't even mention the 'proofs' that he gave as they hold absolutely no water.

And if you're a Christian and you're bothered by what I presented here (that there has been changes in the Bible), go talk to your Pastor or someone who knows her Bible history - you'll find that the fact that there have been changes is really not a big deal.

Enough for now.

Please, pleeeease, send me hate mail!!!

Post Mortem

2005-02-01T00:02:00.000+08:00

It's been exactly a month since I killed this blog, and I thought I could finally rest in peace. I've found that it wasn't that difficult for me to kill this blog, partly because it was something I had been planning to do for a while.

But what I wasn't quite expecting was the reaction I'd get from you. Sure, I did expect some kind of a reaction, but I didn't expect the type of reaction you gave, nor did I expect to be affected by your reaction. I do confess that I felt more than a tinge of guilt. Maybe my announcement came too suddenly, too abruptly, even though I did give hints just days before (but you refused to believe anyway)...

So I'm back here, rather unwillingly, breaking my word.

I meant it when I said that it would be my last post.
I meant it when I said that I don't like the taste of fame and power (I still don't).
I meant it when I said I won't be resurrecting this blog.
I meant all of it.

But it's for you. Because of you, I'm back here. Condemned to blog here.
No one ever warned me about the curse of a blogger.

* * *

When someone comes back from the dead, you don't know if he's the same person.

Don't expect things to be the same here either.

It's only been a month. But I've changed.

And don't blame me if you don't like the changes.

* * *

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!

This post is brought to you by Messenger of Death - Send messages to your loved ones after your death!

Life, Truncated

2005-01-01T01:05:00.000+08:00

If you haven't already done so, please read my previous 4 posts (starting from December 28, 2004, Festive Felicitations and Seasons Salutations) before you read this one. They all relate and lead to this post. Yes I know it'll take time, but trust me, you'll have plenty of it.

* * *

A 2nd-year classmate of mine died around this time of the year in 2004.

He was a good guy, better than I was; and he loved life, more than I did.
But life was ripped away from his grasp.
Life, for him, was truncated, and much too early.

Just barely a week ago, many lives were swept into oblivion by a tsunami.
Many more will be soon be extinguished by the same disaster.

We may be able to accept it when a life close to us is expired;
We won't be able to accept it when a life close to us is truncated.

Because it's not fair.
Because there's no good reason why it happened
to someone else,
and not to us.

But life, as they say, is unfair.
Or is it death, who is unfair?

* * *

I was agonizing for too long over the title for this post.
Death At Ngee Ann? This would allude to my blog title. Or maybe, In the End..., reflecting back on my first post? I finally settled for the current one because it has a bleak, stark, and slightly forlorn ring to it. I don't usually spend too much effort on my post titles, but I figured I should this time since it's my last post.

Yes you read it right.

This, is my last post.

* * *

But why???

I initially wanted to end this blog with just a short and curt announcement. Like:

This is my last post.

But it would've been too unfair to you. You've supported this blog, linked to it, put your comments in it, and even felt an attraction and attachment to it.

I too, have had a certain amount of emotional attachment to this blog. This blog has become a chapter in my life. And because of this blog, you too have become a part of my life.

But it's time for this chapter to end.

I've learnt what I wanted to learn, and more.

They say that the pen is mightier than the sword, and I've tasted of that power through this blog. But it doesn't suit my tastes.

I've also had a slight taste of fame, and some of the trappings that go along with it. Not my taste either.

Too many people I know have taken notice of this blog, and I'm not ready for that.
I need to slide back and hide inside my Levis of anonymity. Not completely possible I know, for some have already discovered my identity, but that's all I can do.

Sure you may find my arguments and reasons unconvincing, and you probably can give cogent arguments for the continuation of this blog. Whatever. It wouldn't change anything, so don't bother. Psychoanalyse me if you need to. But don't make the mistake of the blind defining the elephant. Someone who knows me (relatively speaking) has declared that I'm a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma. Don't expect to do much better.

* * *

Don't mourn for a blog that dies.

Mourn for yourself - you're dying.

You've been dying since you started living.

* * *

There are maybe 3 possibilities of what may happen to a person after death:

1) Reach a final state. This may be simply nothingness, or a cessation of existence, or it could be heaven or hell etc. (To the metaphysicist: I know I'm being simplistic here, just let it pass ok?)

2) Ressurect. (Okay I know some of you believe this isn't even a possibility, but do humour me for this last time willya?)

3) Reincarnate. (I know, I know, gimme a break.)

When we eventually die, at least one of these will happen to us, and I don't think we have a choice as to which.

Fortunately when a blog dies, the blogger gets to choose.

1) Reach a final state. This basically means stop blogging.
I don't think this is an option for me, at least for now. I need to write.

2) Ressurect.
One word - no. This blog will remain dead.

3) Reincarnate. New blog, somewhere else?
Is this my last option? Then I guess this is it.

New blog, somewhere else.

In a reincarnation, you don't know where or what form the dead one reincarnates into. Neither will you know where this blog will reincarnate. So don't even bother to ask.

Maybe some day in the fair future, you again may encounter another blog by this blogger, although you may not realise it. Keep an open mind.

* * *

But do drop me an email, especially if this blog has affected you in any way. I can't guarantee that you'll get a reply, any more than a medium can guarantee a reply from Elvis Presley, but at least you'll know that it won't be a hoax.

You guys have been great.

Thanks, every single one of you, for reading.

It has been my pleasure.

Death in 2004

2004-12-31T13:03:00.000+08:00

I picked up a copy of Streats this morning, and it immediately struck me that it was much thicker and heavier than usual. It took me a while before it hit me. Streats is dead.

* * *

Speaking of death...

I've been dreaming of this internet service for ages. Let's call it Messenger of Death for now, since I can't think of a better name. Here are the basics of how it works:

You sign up (and pay) for the service, and enter a bunch of email messages to be sent to selected family and friends at specified times only after you die.

When you actually die, your lawyer (or someone you trust) will inform Messenger of Death that you're dead, along with the documentary proof (death certificate etc), which would trigger off your instructions.

For example, you can specify that you want an email sent to your ol' pal Bob exactly one year after your death date:

Heya Bob, it's been a long time! I mean, it's been waaay toooo loooong!
How's life these days for ya? frankly, life sucks big time for me down here.
Waitaminute... i'm dead. ok then - death sucks big time. I mean it's hot down here. Hot like hell man. Darn me - it IS HELL! and it's damned lonely. I mean I'm damned I know, but it IS lonely. I miss you man. I wish you were here with me. Join me soon okay?

And maybe another year later:

Damn Bob, when are u coming down man? Or don't tell me you've gone to heaven?? nah no way not after the things we did together - no way you'll be up there. you'd betta join me soon okay? or i'll start to haunt u in your sleep and give you wet dreams - not the usual kind - but nightmares so scary you'll wet your bed!
heh just kiddin man. but i'm just DYING for u to join me man!

This way your folks are guaranteed to remember you, and just way you want them to.

I think I'll make a lot of money with this service. Anyone wanna sign up?

* * *

Now to a more serious vein.

In principle, dying doesn't occur in weekends.

That was a quote from Grace Chow, who chronicled her thoughts in a blog as she looked forward to her impending death, which finally came and took her away early this month.

That was one of the most unique blogs I've seen. I suspect that it won't be updated anymore.

* * *

Some time in September this year, one of my favourite blogs died. Thankfully it wasn't because the blogger died - she just got tired after blogging for 5 years, so she killed it. Blogicide.

But miracles do happen.

Her blog was resurrected after a few weeks, complete with a new and glorified body.

Okay that was just a minor miracle. Maybe not even a miracle, since I was fully expecting her to blog again. Or at least write again.

* * *

I've been contemplating what would happen if I killed this blog.

Probably some mourning from some of you?

But really, a dead blog deserves little mourning.

* * *

Well, it's New Year's Eve.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Of course I don't mean it. Go say that to those who lost someone in the tsunami.

Blogging Reasons and Lessons

2004-12-30T23:37:00.000+08:00

Everyone has their own reasons for blogging, although some may think that they don't - it's just that they're not very introspective. I suppose most people have the typical reasons for blogging, ranging from a personal diary replacement to a popularity-garnering scheme, a personal knowledge management tool to a public information service, and so on.

Since I'm quite a "different" kind of guy ("weirdo", as some say), I had other things in mind when I started this blog. Most basic of them is that I wanted to learn certain things about blogging, particularly "public" blogging.

Here are some of the reasons for this blog, as well as some fo the things I've learnt from this blog:

1. I wanted to prove to myself (and perhaps others) that a blog on something as mundane as life in an average institution in a "boring" country could actually be interesting, if the blogger is observant and writes well. I even came up with an extremely unattractive and unsophisticated title to add to the challenge, as you can see (ok I admit that Bill Clinton's autobiography title, My Life, is worse).

I think I've proven the point.

2. I wanted to find out how easy or difficult it is for a good blog to break into the blogging scene and become famous, and how meritocratic (not the Singapore hypocritic meritocracy) the blogosphere is.

I started off ambitious, hoping to break into the international blogging scene, but I soon figured that it was a lot easier to connect with a local reader. This was reinforced as my earliest loyal readers (commenters) were local. I'm thinking of people like Eddy (Bubblemunche), Gerome (Zenith), and Melissa.

It would take a lot more time and talent to reach international fame, and I suspect that I lack enough of the latter, and, who knows, death might keep me from having the former.

I don't consider this blog as famous, not even locally, I think found the answer I was looking for: it's really not that difficult to have a moderately sizable audience (I'm talking about over 100 unique visitors every day), provided that the blog is good.

But even if you have an interesting blog, you probably would need some help to get an audience, especially if you want to attain fame in a short time.

This blog owes a great deal to adri (popaghandi) who was probably the first to blogroll me. It helps that she's one of the top Singapore bloggers (you have to follow her blog for a while before you start to realise her magnetism, but by then it's too late to stop - La belle Dame sans merci Hath thee in thrall!).

I'm also indebted to well-known bloggers like re-minisce, mr miyagi, indian stallion, beautifuk, la idler who have either mentioned me or put me on their blogrolls. I even got hit by a link from mr brown, which almost tripled my daily hits for a couple of days. And I'm still secretly hoping to get hit by a xiaxue tsunami. By the way, I find xiaxue delightfully ravishing in her edited beauty. (They say that flattery can go a long way.)

There are many more of you I want to mention (ningx, claris, germaine, FF, fat fingers, dollie, etc. etc. etc.), but I realise I'd better stop or I'll never be done with this post (anyway many of you are on my blogroll).

3. I wanted to rant about some of the stupendously stupid things that go on in NP. Like how the homepage still sucks (they just put up a new one with frames) and they should hire someone who actually knows what's going on on the web. Or like how the NP Lifestyle Library is so freakin' hot in the afternoons. Nothing to do with hot babes - they use lousy airconditioning. Or how, when it pours, everyone gets wet on the top level of 56 - the newly-designed-and-constructed-multimilliondollar block 56. I really have lots more to rant about (being observant makes you notice all the warts), but I have a feeling that it wouldn't make a whit of difference, except that I may get into a lot of trouble (I know one guy from NP who got into trouble because of his blog).

4. I wanted a platform to pursue some of my extra-curricular academic interests. I'm interested in sociology and anthropology, and this blog has helped me to learn a lot about the sociological aspects of blogging. This blog is also my attempt at doing anthropological "fieldwork" - it's one thing to observe a community from a distance, it's quite another to learn by being a part of it.

Another of my interests is in the area of hermeneutics (basically the study of textual interpretation). This is why a few portions of my writings were deliberately vague (you probably didn't notice); I wanted to see how they were being interpreted. And your comments were crucial in my learning.

I still have a few other reasons, mostly minor ones, so I think I'll stop here. All that linking to your blogs has worn me out.

How's that for an excuse? =)

Strangers, Exhibitionism, and Blogging

2004-12-29T11:40:00.000+08:00

I was at NP's Lifestyle Library (as usual). I grabbed a copy of New Scientist (as usual), and found myself a seat. Directly behind a girl (as usual).

For once it's not an Ah Lian. It sometimes gets a little tiring studying the habits of the homo ahlianus species after a while, especially since they just refuse to mate while you're observing.

Anyway, it didn't take me long to notice that the girl had half her rear end sticking out of her Levis glaring at me. I tried my best not to glare back. As I valiantly tried to concentrate on my magazine, I had this nagging suspicion that she knew that her rear was exposed.

My suspicions were confirmed when 2 of her male classmates appeared. She immediately became self-conscious, subtly shifting her position so that her bun slid back into the Levis. Unfortunately the whole thing couldn't fit inside (let's just say that the Levis didn't have enough material), so she tried to pull down the back of her jacket to cover the remnant. Since her jacket didn't have enough material either, she casually pulled her Crumpler bag behind her, which finally did the trick.

Hmmm... she didn't mind exhibiting herself to strangers (there was another guy nearby as well, so it wasn't just me), and yet she wouldn't do it when people she knew were around.

Which reminds me of this blog of mine. It's a form of exhibitionism on my part, but most people who know me don't know about this blog of mine.

At least they don't know that it's mine.

Well, at least that's what I'd like to think...

Festive Felicitations and Seasons Salutations

2004-12-28T10:19:00.000+08:00

I was planning on a long and rambling post about my thoughts on blogging around on 1st January next year as promised in a previous post, but I shall break that promise.

I've already started on my new year post, but it became so long and unwieldy that I figured I could break it up into smaller posts that would eventually lead on to it. You'd probably appreciate that better anyway, since it would be more readable. What's more, it gives you a time to think about the stuff I'll be writing (at least that's what I hope for).

* * *

I usually turn off my phone at night during the festive seasons. The SMSes normally start flooding in after midnight, vibrating me out of my slumber.

I totally forgot about my policy this Christmas. Thankfully I was still awake when someone sent me the first "Merry Xmas" SMS just after midnight on December 25th. I silenced my phone immediately. The girl who sent me the greetings has known me for around 7 years, yet she doesn't know me. Maybe I'll explain to her another time.

You see, those who know me better probably remember going through a strange conversation with me, similar to the following:

Friend: Happy new year!

Me: For what?

Friend: Huh? I just wished you happy new year...

Me: Someone already wished me "happy millenium" in the year 2000, so I think this coming new year has already been covered thank you.

Friend: Oh...

Me: Anyway, must we always feel happy?

I won't go on, since the rest is similar to my small talk post.

I always wondered what's the big deal about a new year. Just because the earth makes one round around the sun, and that gives us reason to celebrate?

Or birthdays for that matter. Just because I popped out of my mother on a certain day, and that's reason to celebrate whenever I travel one round around the sun with the earth?

Something to think about.

One More Thing...

2004-12-15T18:10:00.000+08:00

I forgot. Since I won't be blogging for the rest of the year (hopefully),

Happy Christmas and a Merry New Year!

* * *

I always wondered why Christmas is so special. Just about every other festival or holiday is a happy one; why is Christmas a merry one?

Ho ho ho. I need to stop blogging.

Now.

Really.

Stop.

Overblogging

2004-12-15T18:01:00.000+08:00

I just realised that I've overblogged. 4, no 5 posts within this week, and it's only wednesday.

I shall see if I can stop blogging for the rest of the year. And spend the time thinking about blogging instead.

Maybe I should even give up blogging altogether.

Let me think about it.

Linking Lians, Libraries, and Linguistics

2004-12-15T16:49:00.000+08:00

This will be a long and ponderous post. Read it if you can't sleep.

I was at NP's Lifestyle Library, where people go there to lounge around, chit chat with friends, observe the opposite (or sometimes, same) sex, or flip through glossy magazines. I, on the other hand, was there reading serious stuff, like Wired Magazine. Trying to read, that is, amidst all the distraction.

Then it struck me. Just about every other girl around me was an Ah Lian.

You know something is not right when a library is infested with Ah Lians. Maybe they don't have a better place to hang out in Ngee Ann, since we don't have discos or pubs or KTV lounges.

Anyway, if you have been scrutinising my blogroll, you would have noticed that I've actually linked to an Ah Lian's blog. A real Ah Lian - she even declares it publicly: "I am actually a simple Chao Ah Lian".

Are you surprised? Have you begun to question my tastes?

Just to ease the tension a little, no, she doesn't suit my tastes. At least not in that way.

* * *

Some of you may know that I hang out at the Mac Users Group (Singapore) forum, partly because I'm a Macuser, and partly because a number of the people who hang out there are pretty cool.

One day, someone in the forum posted this:

Hi, I'm not here to attack anyone, but I think sporadic instances of really terribly english in these forums are multiplying alarmingly.

These sorts of posts crop up every now and then in local forums. You can probably predict the usual comments that followed. Like the following from someone (from NP, I believe):

Written English was based on rules and guides. Breaking them doesn't show your "local flavour." it simply shows the ignorance of the language.

Hmmm. Later on, the same person adds:

desecrating the language like that simply shows our inability and ineptness to learn a language which is being taught as the first language throughout all schools.

Desecrating. I like that.

He also observes:

If Singlish is so distinctly Singaporean, why are our ministers not addressing us, as citizens of Singapore, in that uniquely singaporean way?

Maybe it's because our ministers are not linguistically enlightened? At least that's part of the reason, I would think.

So a know-it-all smartass had this to say:

What's Standard English anyway? Linguists will tell you that language is alive and constantly in flux because it's used by living people. And Singlish is but a dialect of English, and it's really no issue as long as another non-Singlish English speaker can understand it.
I love the English language, and I use "Standard English" where appropriate, but mugs forum got the ".sg", so if happy happy i use singlish, cannot meh?

Oh by the way, I'm that smartass =)

Then someone called macphaedrus added a really great post:

The spoken and written English today already incorporates plenty of foreign words, mostly culled from colonies of the British Empire (defunct). Thug, amok, sepoy and paddy are just a few coming from India and S-E Asia. If Singapore were still a colony, it is very likely that singlish words we use will find their way into English spoken in London.

Just like the English incorporating words from local languages and make them its own, local dialect words are still finding their way into the language. The difference now is that Singapore is not the 'parent' country of English, and thus confers no legitimacy, and this variant is at best parochial and have no chance of wider adoption.

Linguists will look at Singlish like they look at Pidgin, American ghetto speak and Carribean slave English as another example of a new language in the process of being created. The thing with any languages is that they may have their origins from a well established language, but will quickly develop its own gramma.

A true Singaporean will never confuse 'lah' and 'meh'. One is an emphatic end to a sentence, the other is a spoken question mark. And 'alamak' never comes at the end of the sentence. This is the gramma of Singlish that every Singlish speaker knows, and has to be taught to new speaker of Singlish.

I like that last paragraph - I never thought of that before. It's a pity he can't spell "grammar" right. But who cares?

* * *

I'm ashamed to admit that I wasn't as "linguistically enlightened" a year or so ago. I would have thrown myself into the other side of the fray, anathemising those lesser life forms who do not possess a "proper command of English".

Maybe I could share some of the blame with my English teachers. They taught us the "rules of English", reinforced them, and drew bright, red circles where we broke them. Those of us who could master those rules were rewarded with praise and respect, while the rest were sneered at with contempt. And being insecure little souls, we eagerly clung on to anything that afforded us some status. And no doubt, being "good in English" was status.

(Incidentally, those teachers never told me that the best English writers break the "rules" habitually. Bad teachers.)

But I've since grown up a little, and my self-worth is no more linked to my command of a language. It helped that I've also gained a bit more knowledge since those days, particularly in the area of linguistics (pity they don't teach that at Ngee Ann).

Singlish, even though it sounds like broken English, really has its own grammatical rules, which are as complex as any other language, including "Standard English". We don't realise its complexity because we grew up with it and it comes to us so effortlessly and naturally, like the how Her Majesty speaks the Queen's English. But ask Her Majesty to speak perfect Singlish, and you will realise that you will probably have more success getting an Ah Lian to speak Queen's English.

So dun pray pray - Singlish is neither broken nor inferior.

* * *

Let me press on.

Anthropology is a field of knowledge with links to linguistics, and it's also one of the (many) subjects I'm interested in.

In the earliest days of anthropology, fieldwork was almost exclusively carried out by researchers from England and the US. They went to faraway and exotic lands to observe how the tribal people lived. And quite naturally, the western culture was used as the benchmark to measure a society's stage in development.

Tribes were often observed to be primitive, backward, uncultured, uncivilised, savage, simply because they did not meet these early observers' standard of civilisation. They were uncivilised because they didn't use shiny cutlery, or because they ate grubs and insects, or because their women didn't wear bras (or corsets at that time). Come to think of it, a lot of western women don't wear bras or corsets either.

Eventually some anthropologists becamse enlightened, and realised that these backward tribes were actually developed in their own way, having elaborate practices, rituals, and customs, even though we may find some of those practices distateful. My point is, those cultures and societies were neither superior nor inferior to the typical western one - just different.

* * *

I don't think we have to go to the Amazon jungles to study and appreciate another culture (although Amazon.com helps - lame joke). We can do it right here.

The Ah Lian subculture, in my opinion, deserves anthropological study; and Singlish deserves linguistic study.

Thanks to the internet and blogs, we can do much of it in the comfort of our own homes, without risking the wrath of a jealous Ah Beng.

So now you know why I have an Ah Lian on my blogroll =)

P.S. Someone remind me not to use annoyingly aggravating alliterations for my future post titles.

Asia Blog Awards 2004

2004-12-15T13:36:00.000+08:00

Heh heh... I'm actually getting a coupla votes for Best Singapore Blog award for the Asia Blog Awards 2004.

To be honest, I nominated myself to be included in the list. It was meant to be a joke, but I guess the organiser didn't see it that way =)

Interestingly, 5 out of the 10 in "contestants" for the Best Singapore Blog award is in my blogroll. I'll be voting for them. Except that I can only vote 1 a day.

And no, you don't have to vote for me. I don't care.

I hope this reverse psychology thing works.

Just kidding.

* * *

But really, I think that there are better blogs out there that unfortunately wasn't nominated. In fact, I nominated another blog, but it wasn't included. Ah well, whatever the result, I wouldn't take it too seriously.

No More or Amore

2004-12-14T17:24:00.000+08:00

I decided to drop by the NP atrium just now, as they are having some kind of bazaar organised by the School of Business and Accountancy (BA) for both today and tomorrow.

It's a pretty small affair, with less than 10 stalls. But since the stall holders are all from BA, you can expect a lot of girls.

I decided to take a look.

The first shop I went by was an M1 shop. Nah, I don't need a new phoneline thank you.

Tupperware? It's okay, I already have a schoolbag thank you. Yes I know my schoolbag is not water and airtight, but it's really okay.

The Eco-Adventures tour people ignored me. So I don't look adventurous? Fine.

Singapore Mint? Pay money to buy money? I don't think so...

Andersen's of Denmark Ice Cream? I'll think about it...

I continued to the next stall. Amore fitness. A cute girl smiles at me. I must have blushed. And I couldn't think of an excuse to enquire about Amore fitness services...

I wanted to hang around the area for some reason, but there really wasn't much interesting there. Nothing much interesting to buy (but lots to see of course). Maybe I could get some ice-cream.

I went back to the ice-cream stall. $3.90 for an ice-cream. That's more than the Japanese food that bankrupted me. Well, let's not be so hard on myself; a bit of pampering every now and then wouldn't hurt, would it? Plus those girls at the counter are just longing for me to go to them, right?

The multi-pronged temptation was too great to resist, and I found myself drawn to the ice-cream counter.

"What would you like?" said one of the girls cheerily.

"I'll have Belgium chocolate please, single scoop." Double scoop would set me back by 5 bucks.

"Would you like a double-scoop? It's only 5 dollars..."

"No thank you..."

"It's very cheap compared to the single-scoop you know?"

"I know, but I don't wanna get fat," then pointing to the Amore fitness stall, "otherwise I'll have to spend money there too."

She laughed at my lame attempt at humour.

"What toppings would you like?"

"Is it free?"

I suddenly felt really cheap. Luckily I wasn't plannng on dating her.

"Yes it is. We have walnut, whipped cream,..." she named the rest.

"Okay I'll have the walnut."

When the ice-cream came, it had almonds on it. Evidently she didn't know much about nuts.

But the ice-cream was really great.

I even forgot about the girl who smiled at me.

I should buy more ice-cream tomorrow.

Photo: Kiss Miss Love Hotel

2004-12-13T17:49:00.000+08:00

In a quiet corner of Ngee Ann are 3 buildings that do not conform to the usual campus architecture.

Before you can get to those buildings, you first have to cross a long overhead bridge that spans across the width of PIE (Pan Island Expressway):

The bridge is actually quite haunting and thus romantic when it's dark.

Here's another shot of 2 of the buildings.

This place is where many of the expatriate lecturers and international exchange students stay. The things that happen in here, particularly at night, are unmentionable in this family-friendly blog. Suffice it to say, "wild" would be too mild, and they make the NUS hostels look like nunneries. The official definition of nunneries, that is.

Appetizers

2004-12-10T10:57:00.000+08:00

I often have lunch alone, and yesterday was no different. It's much easier for girls to pick you up that way. =)

As I stepped into canteen 1, I decided to patronise the Muslim food stall, which was at the other end of the canteen. I walked by the Chinese food stall on the way, the Yong Tau Foo stall, the Western food stall, and as I was going by the Japanese food stall, I noticed from the corner of my eye that the girl at the stall was young and pretty.

I'm not particularly a fan of Japanese food, but for some inexplicable reason, I was abruptly hit by a powerful urge to give Japanese food a try, so I made a sharp turn into the Japanese food stall.

As I stood before the counter, I realised 3 things:

1. Japanese food is expensive.
2. Japanese food names are hard to pronounce.
3. My peripheral vision is failing.

You see, upon closer inspection, the girl at the stall was young and pretty, only if compared to the rest of the middle-aged stallholders at the other stalls.

I decided to order the first item on the banner ad at the top of the stall. Or do they call it the stall signage? Whatever.

"Yes?" asked the not-so-young-and-pretty-anymore girl at the counter.

"Can I have that... ermm... that first one with the teriyaki chicken and rice thing?" I replied, pointing to the banner ad, which she couldn't see anyway.

"Oh the [insert the name of my order]. Three fifty."

As I took out my wallet, a haunting, ominous feeling started to come over me, as I vaguely remembered that I didn't have much money left.

When I opened the wallet, I found a forlorn 2 dollar note lying in there, very lonely. Bad.

I opened the coin compartment in my wallet, desperately hoping for a minor miracle.

10 cents.

"Uhhhhmmm... I just realised that I only have 2 dollars with me..." I muttered rather sheepishly. "Wait, let me see if I can borrow from a friend..."

I turned around and scanned the whole canteen for any sign of any familiar face. The more I scanned, the more desolate I felt.

I gave up.

"Ermm... I tell you what - I'll pay you as soon as I finish lunch and get the money okay? I promise! I swear!" I tried to look as sincere as I could. I mean, I was sincere.

I guess she didn't have too much choice, since the food was already almost ready, so she agreed, but not before giving me the you're-such-a-stupid-guy smile.

And frankly, the food wasn't even great.

No more Japanese food for me in the foreseeable future.

School Starts

2004-12-06T21:35:00.000+08:00

Today's the first day of the term, prematurely cutting short the school vacation.

It's always an adjustment when the term starts, particularly if you had been in school during the vacations, when it's quiet, peaceful and relaxing, no crowds to jostle with...

Stepping into school today, I'm machinegunned by visual stimuli from all directions - girls, girls, and more girls (guys are not visual stimuli). And too many of them garbed in precarious microskirts.

Anyway, with some free time in my hands, I went down to the Lifestyle Library. It was packed with semi-reclining bodies strewn all over the seats and the carpet floor, half of them flipping through glossy magazines, the other half chatting or gazing absently into empty space.

I picked up an issue of New Scientist, and somehow managed to find a cushioned seat facing the window about 6 feet away. About 3 guys and a girl were sitting on the carpet right in front of me, leaning on the wall under the window.

New Scientist is more engaging.

Before long, the girl stands up. She's average-looking, so I don't really observe her. Then a girlfriend of hers appears. I catch a glimpse of her face. Our eyes meet for that split second. Not bad. Ok - quite pretty, to be honest. She stands almost right in front of me, about 2 feet away, to chat with her friend. And she's wearing a microskirt. A distracting microskirt. I try to concentrate on the fascinating article on interrogation in New Scientist, where this top interrogator from Israeli intelligence is interviewed about... I think she's conscious of me. I can feel it. She seems to be inching closer to me... Anyway, the top interrogator is interviewed by New Scientist about some of the interrogation techniques... She is inching closer. She's only about 1 foot away now... come on baby... half a foot... Then her conversation ends, and her friend leaves. Dang.

She glances behind her to look for a seat. There's a space beside me, quite tight, and someone left a Calvin and Hobbes comic book on it. Dang! She's probably going elsewhere to find a seat...

She glances round again, then turns and picks up the Calvin and Hobbes, and seats herself right beside me. I control my breathing. My heart races out of control. Concentrate on the article! She's only inches beside me. I smell her perfume. She opens her book on body language. Body language. I know something about body language. I need an opening line...

Did you know that the ability to read body language is an important skill for interrogators?

Nah too intellectual. Think of something else.

Guess what? I've been observing your body language since you came.

Nah too freaky.

...

...

Think! Think of something quick!

...

It's times like these when I need my mental faculties the most and they desert me.

...

A guy sits down at her other side, and starts talking to her. They must be friends.

Then his hand appears on her back. He caresses her.

Disgusting.

Slut.

I soon finish the fascinating article, and leave the library. Really great article.

Photo: Study Area

2004-12-03T22:02:00.000+08:00

My blog has managed to stay virgin as far as graphics and pictures are concerned. (Okay, except for those on the Blogger.com toolbar.) But sometimes, the temptation to succumb is just too great.

Here's my first photo post.

And since this blog is titled the way it is, it makes sense for me to post a shot taken at Ngee Ann Polytechnic.

In Ngee Ann, we have many study areas. This particular one is a new one, built specially for the study of mosquito breeding habits.

Idolatry and Perceptions

2004-12-01T22:03:00.000+08:00

Little children, keep yourselves from idols.

When St John the Evangelist wrote those words in his epistle in the first century, he was probably thinking of the idols that people worshipped in temples, not the ones that people worship in Indoor Stadiums or in front of TV sets.

Quite strangely, I haven't the slightest urge to join in the idolatry. I don't care if Taufik or Sly wins. (In fact, judging from the screams from my neighbours' TV sets as I type this, the results must be out already.) Maybe it's because I haven't watched a single episode of Singapore Idol. But I've been reading about it in the papers, in blogs and online forums, and I've been hearing serious discussions about it among friends and others. Being immersed in such an environment of idolatry, and yet not quite in it, has put me in quite a unique position...

Looking at how fans gush at their idols, it makes me a little nervous. Frankly it makes no sense. These idols were just ordinary fellas not too many months ago. Then, if you saw them on the bus or along Orchard Road, you'd look right by them. If you heard them sing at a karaoke lounge, you may be quite impressed by their talent, but that's about it. But today, when they step into a room, you scream. When you see them along Orchard, you get excited and nervous. If they smile at you directly, you melt. Or faint. What happened? Did something change in your perception of them?

Perhaps the idols have undergone some changes too along the way?

As an idol, your confidence grows as you become more famous with more worshippers. You learn to smile and wink at people. It becomes less embarrassing to have perfect strangers coming up to you and asking you for your autograph, or even giving you a hug and a few kisses. You stop blushing when people scream as you step into a room. People think you're someone great, and they're right. Or so you think.

The beauty of all this is that it's really all make-believe. Whatever adoration we pour at the feet of our idols is based on ephemeral and feeble foundations. And yet countless fans have spent much time and effort in their idolatry.

Which is really not that much different from the idols in temples that St John was warning against.

Singapore BloggerCon?

2004-11-30T17:48:00.000+08:00

I have been following BloggerCon 3. BloggerCon is basically just a conference for bloggers to talk about blogging and meet other bloggers, including the high-profile one. There have been 3 BloggerCons held in the US since last year, and one in Shanghai. I was just wondering - wouldn't it be nice if we could have a Singapore BloggerCon as well?

Imagine, we could have high-profile locally-based bloggers such as Xiaxue, Mr Brown, Mr Miyagi, Adri (Popagandhi), and others I've missed out (such as those listed here) to grace the event. Lesser bloggers like myself and others could use the opportunity to get to meet other bloggers (who are likely to be interesting people) in person.

It seems like I'm not the only one with this idea. Here's what I found on Preetamrai's blog:

I have been downloading the Bloggercon3 podcasts from the IT Conversations web.

The Shanghai guys organised a bloggercon earlier this year. We have been seeing some interesting writing in Singapore blogs too. Time to organise a Singapore bloggercon?

Any ideas?

I wonder what you think. Should we, the bloggers in Singapore, organise a Singapore BloggerCon?

Comment Transition

2004-11-30T11:26:00.000+08:00

Thanks to a reader 'complaint', I finally have the impetus to replace Blogger.com's commenting system with the one from HaloScan.com. Hope it works better.

P.S. Old comments will not be removed.

Small Talk

2004-11-28T22:59:00.000+08:00

A friend spotted me at Ngee Ann last week.

She: Hi! How are you?

Me: Why do you ask?

She: I just wanted to see if you're okay or not...

Me: So what if I'm okay or fine?

She: Then that's good...

Me: What's so good about being fine? What if I'm not fine?

She: Then that's no good...

Me: Why is that no good?

She: ...

Me: Must we always feel okay?

She: Well...

Me: Can't we feel bad every now and then?

She: ...

Me: Do you realise that if we're feeling good all the time, then we wouldn't know that we're feeling good. And if we don't know that we're feeling good, we're really not feeling good anymore?

She: Well I...

Me: Anyway, I'm fine today. *smiles*

She: Get lost!

Top 10 Blog Design Guidelines

2004-11-23T15:37:00.000+08:00

Update (Tuesday, November 23, 2004): Thanks to my readers' help, there are really 10 guidelines now (it was originally 5).

* * *

Since one of my interests is web design (okay I know you can't tell that from this blog), and since many of you are bloggers or future bloggers, I decided to do something for the blogging community by compiling a list of blog design guidelines.

As I forsee that some of you may get offended by this list, making slightly hesitant about putting it down, but I figured that since I've already offended not a small number of you with my previous Jay Chou post, I may as well ride the momentum and offend more of you with this one =)

So here are my top 10 blog design guidelines:

#1. Play music when your blog is viewed
All your readers love your musical tastes, or they wouldn't be visiting your blog, would they? And your poor readers probably don't have their own music playing already in the background, so they need you to provide the music. Or if they already have music playing, blending your music with theirs must sound really mellifluous.

#2. Horizontal (sideways) scrolling
Your blog should have your readers' undivided attention. This means that their browsers should be maximized, occupying the whole of their 1024 by 768 screen, otherwise they'll just have to scroll sideways to view all the great stuff you have on your blog. Although web browsers do support a liquid (flexible) layout, who cares? It's YOUR blog so you have every right to impose YOUR design on everyone who views it.

#3. Use of frames
Frames are a godsend. Otherwise how would you be able to squeeze your profile, your picture, your tagboard, your favourite links, your blogroll, etc. etc. into the 1024 by 768 screen? Oh yeah and the blog posts themselves deserve a seperate frame too. And since there are so many frames, you need to keep them modestly-sized, or they wouldn't be able to fit.

#4. Fancy mouse pointers
You readers will be impressed when their mouse pointers change from that boring arrow to something much more exciting, like crosshairs. Or if you're great at (copying others') scripts, there's nothing more awesome than a mouse pointer with a trail of words or stars following it.

#5. Hard-to-read text
You write so well that you shouldn't make it too easy for your readers to read your writings - make them work for it. An easy way to do that is to use tiny fonts, which also makes your blog design look cool. Plus you don't want those old and farsighted geezers reading your blog, do you? Or use low-contrast text that blends nicely into the background. When your readers work hard to read your posts, boy, will they appreciate your words so much more.

#6. Sticky caps
Closely related to #5, but deserving a category of its own because of its importance and what some call "sticky caps". StIcKy CaPs ArE dEfInItElY dA cOoLeSt WaY tO tYpE sTuFf. It TeLlS eVeRyOnE dAt YoU'rE cOoL aNd FuNkY.

#7. Scrolling/marquee text
It's just so boring having words that stay there and not move. Using scrolling or marquee text effects, whether on the status bar (at the bottom of the browser) or on the web page itself makes your blog look so much more dynamic and exciting. Even better if a few of your readers get epileptic fits from that!

#8. Pop-ups
Pop-up windows and dialog boxes are just the way to grab your readers' attention, differentiating your blog from other less interesting blogs which don't have pop-ups, thus showing how unique and great your blog is.

#9. Explosion of colours
Computers these days can display about 16.8 million colours. The normal human can distinguish even more colours. Obvious conclusion? Make use of those colours! Using only a few colours is so boring and monotonous and drab and gloomy; using lots of colours is the only way to do justice to your colourful life!

#10. Customised CSS
Cascading Style Sheets (CSS) are now the in-thing in web design, so the best way to gain some respect from geeks is to overhaul the CSS on your blog. And as long as it looks OK on your maximised browser (probably Internet Explorer) and monitor resolution (probably 1024 by 768), there's no reason why it shouldn't display correctly on other computers. And can't all those Firefox, Safari, Opera, etc. etc. users just shuddup and use Internet Explorer maximised on a 1024 by 768 screen?

* * *

Darn. I think I've just made a lot more enemies =)

But really, I hope no one is offended, as no offense was meant. I compiled the list with no particular blog in mind - it is the result of a subconscious assembly in my mind as I went through hundreds of blogs over the past months, many highly annoying, some simply painful.

I believe that the most important thing about your blog should be your writings. Okay, and pictures too, if you are pretty =) Thus the overall design of your blog should reflect that, making it as easy as possible for your reader to read your writings. Everything else should be secondary.

* * *

Okay I lied. It's only 5 guidelines.

But you can help me with the other 5 =)

Thanks to you, I now have 10!

P.S. I just realised that most of the items can be found in Singaporean blogs. I wonder why.

Calm Chou-der

2004-11-19T23:21:00.000+08:00

Great. It seems like Jay Chou is going to have a concert here in Singapore, if I gather correctly from those irritatingly distracting TV Mobile ads on the bus.

* * *

I was at the CommunicAsia exhibition earlier this year. I can't remember whether this happened at the Panasonic or the Samsung mega-booth:

Promoter: Would you like to play this game? You'll get a chance to win a Jay Chou T-shirt!

Me: Jay Chou T-shirt?

Promoter: Yep!

Me: I hate Jay Chou.

Promoter (horrified look): Why???

Me: I'm jealous of him. Do you have other prizes?

Promoter (with mock pity): Aiyah... no other prizes. Can give the T-shirt to your girlfriend what.

Me: You siao ah!

* * *

Jay Chou wouldn't have appeared on my people-to-be-suspicious-of radar screen if the following incident didn't happen some time back:

"You know, you remind me of Jay Chou," a friend of mine from another course half-jokingly told me.

"Huh? What?"

"You remind me of Jay Chou."

"J what?"

"JAY CHOU!" she was losing her patience.

"Ermm... how do you spell that?" I was starting to feel a little ignorant.

"J-A-Y C-H-O-U! Don't tell me you don't know Jay Chou!"

I was starting to feel very ignorant.

"Actually... I've never heard of him," I mumbled weakly, "who is he?"

"Oh my god! You don't know Jay Chou! Oh my god!!!"

"So who is he?"

"He plays basketball!" as if I knew everyone in the world who plays basketball.

A search through my mental NBA player database yielded a total of 0 search results. The closest match was "Jay Williams". How could she know something about a famous basketball player whom I've never even heard of? And I was supposed to be the expert (self-proclaimed) in NBA trivia. Something was not quite right.

"Is he a good player?" I asked. Maybe she was trying to insult me by comparing me with a bad player, which would explain my ignorance.

She gave the rolled-eyeballs response coupled with an exasperated sigh, before kicking up her Windows Media Player in her Toshiba.

Was she going to show me some replay video clips showing him perform some wicked rim-rocking dunks? I didn't know she was into basketball...

"I'll show you one where he's playing basketball..."

Hmmmm....

The screen was filled with a whole list of Jay Chou files. I had a feeling that she liked Jay Chou.

"Ah.. this one..." she clicked on the play button.

This Jay Chou guy had better be good-looking, I thought, and he'd better display some decent ball skills.

There was music. Music? Is this another dumb MTV?

Then this guy appeared on the screen and starts croaking. Okay some people think it's singing. Whatever. He must be Jay Chou. But he doesn't look like me!

... and he's ugly!

Okay maybe I'm jealous that he's better-looking than me. SLIGHTLY better-looking...

Then he was shown fumbling around the ball. It was painful to the eyes.

Darn, he's giving basketball a bad name! This is sacrilegious!

"So how do you find him?" my friend asked hopefully when the MTV was finally, finally over, "wanna watch another one?"

"No need lah," I responded a little too quickly. "He's okay lah..." I added with unenthusiasm.

I think she got the idea. She never mentioned that J-word to me ever since.

* * *

If anyone has extra tickets to the Jay Chou concert, find someone else.

New Word: litotes

2004-11-17T13:56:00.000+08:00

litotes (pronunciation: LIT-tuh-teez)

Dictionary.com:
n. pl litotes

A figure of speech consisting of an understatement in which an affirmative is expressed by negating its opposite, as in This is no small problem.

Make a sentence:

My lecturer has not a meager liking for the use of litotes, and his habit seems to have rubbed off on me in no insignificant way.

Beauty of Language Learning

2004-11-15T15:50:00.000+08:00

During my secondary school days, I was surrounded by classmates who became suicidal if they didn't score an 'A' for Chinese.

I managed to blend in, though barely, since my own grades were quite decent too, at least during my secondary 1 and 2 days. It helped that I had a young and pretty Chinese teacher.

But another teacher, older, sagging, and hardly attractive, took over when I went on to sec 3 and 4. My morale and grades sagged.

Being the only student who had to attend every single remedial class of that Chinese teacher, we quickly gave up hope on each other (she was a completely hopeless teacher).

So when, by some kind twist of fate, I got a 'C' for my mid-year 'O' level Chinese paper, there was great rejoicing and relief for the both of us. While the guy sitting right in front of me was actively volcanic because he got an 'A2'.

I had to face Chinese torture again when I went into Junior College for 3 months. But it wasn't so bad there, since the Chinese lessons were actually quite interesting (interesting-looking tutor too). But still, I had already developed a deep phobia for learning the Chinese language, so I came to Ngee Ann Poly. (Chinese wasn't the only reason though; I hated the pressure-cooked JC environment and culture.)

In poly, most of my classmates have been Mandarin speakers, and the only English they know is Singlish. As long as I didn't reveal my past Chinese scores, I could blend in quite well, since my spoken Mandarin is passable (I speak exclusively Mandarin with my family), and I can speak Singlish like any native. But somehow, they would always find out that I was not quite like them - a wolf in sheep's clothing. Maybe it was how I never used Singlish when I argued with the lecturers, or how my technical reports would always be filled with unnecessarily cheem and sesquipedalian words (to impress and depress the lecturers).

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.

Anyway, every now and then, someone would call me a "kantang" (literally a potato; figuratively a pejorative term for a Chinese person who does not know the Chinese language or culture, just like the stereotypical Westerner who eats potatoes).

The comment never really bothered me, I guess because I'm comfortable in my own skin. Talking about skin, I'm sometimes called "banana" too - yellow on the outside, white in the inside.

I found out later that blacks who try to be like whites are called "oreos" (after the famous black cookie). You can imagine why.

But these days, things are getting confusing. Some Chinese want to be like the Japanese, others want to be like Korean, and some even want to be black. More Malays and Indians particularly seem to want to be black too, like this Indian friend who greets me using "Yo homie!" and I tell him to "cut the fake nigger crap".

And now, I'm wondering if I should learn another language. I can almost hear my mother's expected response (in mandarin of course), "Another language?!? You can't even master your own mother tongue, and now you're thinking another language?!?"

But before that happens, I have to decide if it's going to be German, French, or Japanese. It's really hard to decide, because I hear that all 3 have pretty lecturers, which is a crucial factor for me when it comes to language-learning.

Unfortunately, I probably can do only one. Very tough choice - it will probably end up a photo finish. That's if I can even get hold of their photos.

Oh well.

P.S. Here's Eddy's entertaining post about his experience being a kantang.

Starblogs, Sexblogs, Shamblogs

2004-11-10T11:34:00.000+08:00

I was at NP yesterday talking with an insightful friend about blogging, and we soon started commenting on xiaxue's blog, said to be the most popular Singaporean blog. Both of us agreed that the quality of her recent posts has dropped (by our tastes).

I was first attracted to her blog because of her interesting observations, sense of humour, and good writing voice (even though not always grammatically correct). Her recent posts, however, have become rather inane and too silly for my liking.

Too much pressure from too much fame?

But it seems like her blog is still getting the hits. My guess is once a blog or blogger reaches star status with a sizable fan base, it is no more crucial to have consistently good content. Look at Mr Brown's blog, another Singaporean starblog. Great posts have become precious few. My friend thinks it's got something to do with his wife and kid. He may be right.

But back to the starblog of xiaxue...

"You know that they're in trouble when they start adding sex in it," my friend observed.

Quite true. Sex sells, and xiaxue's recent posts seems to have a tad more sexual content.

Then just now, I find this guy's blog - check out the dickchan blog at blogspot if you have a strong stomach - I refuse to link to it as this is a family-friendly blog =)

My blog has been around longer than his, has more posts, and I would argue, a little more "intelligent" posts, but I'm only getting a fraction of his pageviews! I console myself by thinking that I'm refusing to pander to the sexual cravings of the mindless majority. Then I find myself reading his posts and getting disgusted by such a skank specimen of humanity, yet somehow I'm compelled to read on, until I exhaust all his (thankfully few) posts. Human interest?

Then I remember some of the sexblogs I've come across. Sometimes I can't help but wonder if some of these are for real, for at least some of these must be shamblogs, especially those with masculine origins. But would someone create a sexblog which is a shamblog hoping to reach starblog status? I think so...

I think this leads somewhere, but I'm not sure where so I'll just stop here. I hope no one gets offended by my xiaxue and Mr Brown comments; no malicious intent there =)

Fishy Business

2004-11-08T11:02:00.000+08:00

I was at the Chinese Food Stall in canteen 1 ordering dinner not too many days ago. Here's the exchange that ensued, translated idiomatically into English:

"Little boy, how old are you?"

The stallholder is a little too friendly for comfort, so I pretend not to hear. And no one calls me "little boy"!!!

"Are you 20 yet?" she persists.

Aunty, I'm probably half your age!

"More or less," I reply as vaguely as possible. So her persistance is paying off, as I try not to be rude.

As I pay for my order, a canteen cleaner stops by the stall.

"You know what I'm doing? I'm fishing!" declares the stallholder to her cleaner friend, "I'm fishing!" she repeats gleefully, jabbing her finger in my direction, while I pretend not to notice.

"Ignore her," the cleaner advises me, shaking her head, "she's crazy."

I know.

The Religion of Politics

2004-11-04T00:08:00.000+08:00

"Bush or Kerry?" I asked a lecturer from the US not too long ago.

"Kerry" he declared without any hesitation.

"Why?"

"Bush is stupid."

He's certainly not the only one who thinks that way. Reading the news, commentaries, political blogs, even blogs by Singaporeans, one cannot avoid the impression that Bush is somewhat of a nincompoop.

But some months ago, soon after Kerry's presidential ambitions became full-blown, I read in a Newsweek article comparing the president and the hopeful. Both were in Yale, both were in Skull and Bones. I also found out later that Bush is the only US president to have an MBA (his was from Harvard), and the only one to have CEO experience.

That's when I started wondering - are we hearing the whole story?

I voiced my thoughts to a rather insightful friend yesterday, when it became clear that Bush was likely to win. The conversation went something like this:

"How come we in Singapore keep hearing that Bush is dumb and all, and we believe it, when some other facts indicate that maybe he's really not that dumb? Somehow we hardly hear from the Bush-supporters, even though it's clear now that there are so many of them."

I further commented, "I know people who are clearly pro-Kerry, as well as who are strongly pro-Bush, and there's no way you could convince those pro-Kerry guys to vote Bush, and vice versa, no matter what the evidence." Think the Iraqi quagmire.

"Well, politics is sometimes like religion. People don't always go by the evidence."

He's right.

I've engaged in a good number of religious debates, and what I've come to realise is that logic and evidence is almost never enough to change the view of the religionist (including atheists etc), and if I probe deeper, the reason for the believer's belief is almost always profoundly personal.

The same with the strongly pro-Bush and pro-Kerry people. I remember watching BBC after the first Presidential Debate. The Bush people thought Bush had won, and the Kerry people thought that Kerry was clearly the winner. The BBC commentator couldn't commit.

Religion or politics, humans have this ability to hear and remember what they want to hear, and forget what they don't.

Bush is stupid.

Amen.

Running for Leadership

2004-11-03T13:40:00.000+08:00

Some of my friends have started taking up running of recent days thanks to the somewhat-impending NAPFA fitness test which would decide their fate after they graduate when they enter into military torment. It's almost heart-rending seeing some of them run, or at least valiantly try to run to last through the 2.4km of unadulterated misery.

Then you have the US elections on the other side of the globe, with countless bloggers airing voicing their opinions in the blogosphere. I, too, felt like I had to add in my own insightful assessment (ahem). I actually started typing a paragraph or so about my analysis and prediction of the elections when it hit me (quite painfully) that my views were really nothing new, and rather typical in fact.

Then I remembered reading in a Runner's World issue many months ago about the physical fitness of Bush. Even though the reporter was Democrat himself, he was almost gushing at the President's fitness and running ability.

I searched for the article in vain, but I found something more intruiging. This article, Bush, Kerry the latest to 'run' for president, says that Kerry is a good runner too (although not as good as Bush), and so is John Edwards. Hmmm...

Then I remember that Lee Kuan Yew used to jog regularly. Goh Chok Tong jogs. Lee Hsien Loong jogs (I think). If he does, then the current and past Prime Ministers of Singapore are all runners. (I remember reading somewhere that former German Chancellor Helmut Kohl is also a strong runner.)

I also recall seeing the Minister for Defense Teo Chee Hean pounding the pavement one weekend morning, as well as a previous Chief of Defence Force (LG Bey).

And guess what? The Ngee Ann Principal is a good runner too, I hear.

Looks like I'll be joining my friends real soon.

Colour Change

2004-11-02T22:23:00.000+08:00

I got tired of a black background, mostly because it just occured to me that there are about a billion or so other blogs that look just like mine. Ok, my blog looks like a billion other blogs. Whatever.

Musings on the Mahjong (vs MIT) Mentality

2004-10-30T10:20:00.000+08:00

I did a google search on "mahjong" and "mentality" to see if anyone has beat me to these musings, and I found a blurb for Absolute MahJong, a computerised mahjong game, claiming that

you will understand the mentality of Chinese people playing this addictive game.

A little hyped or romanticized? Or is there some truth in it?

I searched again, using "philosophy of mahjong" as my search string, and found this interesting article, "Cruelty and Crowds".

This paragraph was close to what I was looking for:

"The Chinese like poker, and do not like bridge," [Lin Yutang] wrote in his book, "My Country, My People". "They have always played mahjong, which is nearer to poker than to bridge. In this philosophy of mahjong may be seen the essence of Chinese individualism." (emphasis mine)

Cool.

It's been a long time since I've watched a mahjong game (I don't play it), but let me attempt give a meta-description of one. (Mahjong experts out there, feel free to correct me where I've gone wrong.)

It's late at night, and you are sitting at the square mahjong table with three other of your friends or family at one of their houses. A new game is just about to begin, and all of you are "shuffling" the tiles, making the signature loud clacking sounds as the tiles collide, while you engage in small talk.

The game starts, and the atmosphere is still somewhat friendly, with light doses of humour and shallow gossip. But beneath the light coating of congeniality is a lot of scheming and strategy to make maximum monetary gain - at the expense of everyone else.

For every game, someone wins some money, and someone else loses some. And at the end of the whole mahjong session, if you made a net loss, maybe you'll win them back and and hopefully more the next time round; or if you made a profit this time, hopefully luck will still be on your side the next time.

As in any gambling game between family or friends, you exert a smile to mask your disappointment when you lose, and suppress your grin when you win. No hard feelings - we're all chums after all, right?

It's a mahjong game in school, especially if your classmates are the competitive type, and you're seen as competition.

Yeah, we're friends and all, we joke, make small talk, but underlying that friendly facade is a cloaked competition, a championship series which no one wants to mention, but it's palpable nonetheless.

You remember that the game is being played when you ask your classmates for help with some assignment, and you detect that slight hesitance and reluctance. Or when they give great reasons like "it's better for you to do it yourself" or "I didn't put any effort in mine; are you sure you wanna look at it?"

You remember the game when your test results are great, and they do little to hide their suspicion when you claim that you didn't study much for the test. And they claim they don't study either, but you know very well that they do.

You remember the game when you do well for your exams, and they show polite admiration, but you know from their cool gaze and distracted kudos that they're gonna beat you the next time round.

It's too easy to be like one of them when you're in that kind of environment, and I've had to catch and consciously keep myself from adopting that mentality.

On a slightly higher level in Ngee Ann, look at our MeL Portal (powered by Blackboard). All our lecturers' notes are hiding behind a login and password. Contrast that with MIT's Open Courseware, where any kid with an internet connection can access the faculty's great material. I've personally benefited much from MIT's initiative, and perhaps I should be paying them school fees.

So why can't we be like MIT, so open and willing to share? Afraid that the other polytechnics would benefit from our "intellectual property"? A general fear of being open?

Or, "our stuff isn't as great as theirs, are you sure you wanna look at ours?" Sound familiar?

Mahjong mentality?

This psychological phenomenon is certainly not limited to Ngee Ann, or even the rest of Singapore. It does seem like the ethnic Chinese people around Asia tend to have this mentality.

Maybe that first quote does have some truth to it.

Of Mahjong and Models

2004-10-28T13:49:00.000+08:00

"Wanna play mahjong?"

I was absolutely stunned. She was asking me to join her for a game of mahjong? That's totally beyond my wildest and wettest dreams.

You see, she's this gorgeous model and I've only been able to admire her from afar since we don't know each other and we're not even from the same course. I just happened to be standing outside her class that day when she and her girlfriend stepped out and walked a few paces in quiet discussion before she turned back with that strange question.

"Where?"

That was all I could manage, since it seemed rather absurd to be playing mahjong in school, and I didn't think she could fit the mahjong tiles in her dainty handbag.

"At my place," she replied, smiling sweetly.

"Actually I don't know how to play mahjong."

Honesty is the best policy, they say.

"Oh well nevermind then," her smile barely masking her disappointment, before turing away with her friend.

I was still standing there completely bewildered when my friend who witnessed the whole scene from a distance appeared beside me.

"What happened?!?!" he demanded breathlessly. When a gorgeous babe talks to your friend out of the blue like that, you're definitely gonna be concerned.

I told him everything.

"You @#$% idiot! You should have said that you know how to play!"

"But I can't lie to her like that!"

"Then you should have told her that you got a friend who can play mahjong!"

"First, I didn't see you; second, I didn't know that you play mahjong; and third, she didn't ask you - she asked me."

He could only counter my watertight logic with disgusted grunts.

"Then you should have asked her to teach you!"

Hmmm... why didn't I think of that?

"Well, actually I've got other things to do too..."

Although that was technically true, it was really a face-saving measure.

Oh well. The next time a babe asks me to play mahjong, I'll know what to say.

Your Turn Now...

2004-10-23T00:01:00.000+08:00

When I first put out my cryptic first post about 2 weeks ago, no one warned me that blogging could become addictive.

Suspecting that I may be quickly turning into a blogaholic, I took this "are you a blogaholic?" test.

Here are the results:

60/100 points

You are a dedicated weblogger. You post frequently because you enjoy weblogging a lot, yet you still manage to have a social life. You're the best kind of weblogger. Way to go!

That's cos it's only been 2 weeks!

If I don't do something soon, I'll have to be joining Blogaholics Anonymous pretty soon.

Being a control freak, I have decided to take control of my life, and control my blogging habit so it doesn't turn into a social problem.

What better time than now, since school vacation has just begun?

Thus, from now on, it's only gonna be one post per week. Just one. OK, every once in a while, it may be two. No more than three - three is the maximum. Unless of course, the situation demands for four or five.

Anyway...

According to my web counter, I've been having a total of about 630 pageviews and 320 unique visitors for the last 10 days. This means I've got a bit of an audience here, although some of them probably did not stay long (like the 10 or so who came in after searching "microskirts" in google). According to the counter, I'm averaging about 6 returning visitors per day, myself excluded. I've no idea where you're from or why you're returning to this blog, but I'm certainly curious.

So while I take this time to control my blogging habit, may I ask you, if you enjoy this blog, to put in a comment on why you like it, and anything else you want to say. (Anonymous comments are allowed.)

Till my next post, g'day.

Of Coessentialism, ThinkPads, and Macs

2004-10-22T00:04:00.000+08:00

In many "primitive" cultures around the world, if you're born at the same moment with an animal, say, a cat, it would be believed that you basically share the same life experiences with the cat, and both of you share the same soul, will, or consciousness. And if you dream, your dreams will often be interpreted from the perspective of your "coessential" animal, in this case the cat.

And if the cat falls sick, you will fall sick also.

Of course, with modern advances in medicine and psychology, we know the sickness is psychosomatic (mind over body). Even then, coessentialism still exists in our modern culture, where we seem to have coessential things.

Like Yiling's blog entry entitled heartpain which was the inspiration of my post:

i dropped my precious.... my laptop!! realli hard on the floor.. heart break alreadi..

Which also reminds me of the time when IBM was selling their ThinkPads at NP, and the salesguy was raving to me about the notebook's Active Protection System which protects the ThinkPad if it gets knocked off the table and crashes onto the ground.

Being a hardcore skeptic, I wasn't too convinced by the video demo of the Active Protection System, nor was I particularly impressed by his 5cm drop test.

"Eh.. it's only 5cm leh... why don't you drop it from the table onto the ground, like what they show on the video?"

He hesitated and gave me a nervous grin.

"Well you don't have to, I mean, I'm not even planning to buy your product - I'm a happy Mac user - but hey, it looks like you don't really believe in your product!"

I was about to turn away when his ego got the better of him. Or maybe he did believe in his product.

"Okay I'll show you!" he declared proudly, voice slightly wavering.

It was painful watching him lift the ThinkPad off the table, hold it above 2-and-a-half-feet of thin air, and wince as he let gravitational effects take over. I felt bad for him.

The crash was loud. Our brave salesguy quickly picked it up, snapped an out-of-place corner back in place, and declared that everything was A-OK, as advertised. He even admitted to me that he'd have to pay for the ThinkPad if it was damaged.

It's not so easy to impress a Mac user, but man was I impressed. I even gave a few nods of approval and mumbled a "not bad..." Good salesguy.

There's no way I'm gonna do that to my Mac. Coessentialism. Too painful.

Break-Up Lines and Philosophy

2004-10-21T17:25:00.000+08:00

I saw a no-so-happy couple at the atrium (no, not the couple that was featured in And They Lived Happily Ever After and Temper Tantrums). I deduced that they were unhappy from the sullen look on the guy's face, as well as the tears on the girl's face.

I love lovers' tiffs!

Unfortunately I was in a hurry, so I didn't hang around to chronicle the events that followed. But my guess was that one of them wanted to break-up (probably the guy), and the other had other ideas.

I suppose my hypothesis was subconsciously influenced by this interesting and entertaining blog entry ("Philosophy in Questionable Taste") with a whole collection of break-up lines of philosophers.

Here are a few that I like:

The Anti-Solipsist: There’s someone else.
The Empiricist: I think we should see other people.
The Hard Determinist: It’s not my fault.
Plato: Not enough dialogue.

Of course, many of them I couldn't appreciate due to my ignorance. Anyway, I contributed some to the list:

Plato: Can’t we just be platonic?
Einstein: I think we are too closely related.
Foucault: I think I’m gay.
Ockham: You don’t shave.

but I kinda regret the Foucault one since gay culture wasn't his greatest concern, or was it?

But this is my favourite:

Freudian: Mom, I think this relationship has gone a bit too far.

A Blog is like a Box of Chocolate...

2004-10-21T10:15:00.000+08:00

A blog is like a box of chocolate - you never know who comes and takes a piece from it.

But unlike a box of chocolate, you usually don't mind, because there's plenty to go around. That's assuming that you've got stuff that people are actually interested about.

Anyway I just found out quite accidentally that lostgirl had a post linking to my blog.

She's a real connoisseur.

=)

Why Exams Are Good

2004-10-20T15:19:00.000+08:00

Because in the real world, it is useful to spit out facts and definitions.

Because in the real world, whenever we have to solve problems, we're shut in an isolated room for 3 hours, with a piece of paper in front of us nicely stating the problems we need to solve, some of which are problems with multiple-choice options.

Because in the real world, we don't have computers. Even though we have notebooks for school.

Because in the real world, we don't use google.

Because in the real world, no one will be there to help us, to give us ideas, to give us feedback.

Welcome to the real world.

Advice for Exams

2004-10-19T11:41:00.000+08:00

Some of my friends think I'm some kind of genius; others think I'm just a show-off. Just because I don't believe in giving the sky-is-falling-on-my-head look and burying my face in a thick pile of well-marked handouts 5 minutes before the exam. Just because I only bring along the necessities (only a pen, and sometimes a calculator).

Or maybe it's that hint of a G.W. Bush smirk I have as I observe others with their stressed faces buried in the handouts.

It's not like I'm ready to ace the exam, telling the lecturers to "bring it on!" but it's just that I don't see the point in trying to cram something into my thick skull moments before the exam. Nor does looking all stressed out help one single bit.

Being a mild hedonist, I don't believe in exerting myself more than I need to, or when the marginal return (expected exam score) falls below the marginal cost (effort spent in studying). Thinking back, I don't think it was just economic theory that influenced my study strategy...

Back in secondary 1, my History said something like this to us:

"What's the point of studying all night the night before the exam, and when the exam starts, you're too exhausted to think straight?"

Wise words, which resonated with what grandpa used to repeat:

"Adequate sleep is very important!"

He also used to say "stand/sit straight! don't hunch!" but that may be irrelevant to this post.

But sleep is certainly important. My usual study strategy is roughly as follows:

(1) find a comfortable place to study (library chair, living room sofa, bed, etc);
(2) organise the material in front of me;
(3) close eyes to expel every bit of tiredness from my mind (sleep);
(4) wake up, wipe off drool (if any);
(5)study;
(6) repeat step 3 if any trace of tiredness is detected, and so on.

This strategy maximizes speed and retention and minimizes pain. Thanks grandpa.

My dad had his contributions too, related to me by grandpa:

"I used to ask your father to study and review his schoolwork, but he'd tell me that he's already listened to his teacher in class and learnt what needs to be learnt, so there's no need to study. Then he'd go play ping-pong."

Luv' ya dad, but why didn't you tell it to me yourself?

Like all wise dads, he had a good point - go play ping-pong. Wise philosophy, which he probably adopted from the ancients. Mens sana in corpore sano, Latin for "a healthy mind in a healthy body". So after a bit of mental work, I'm usually off to the basketball courts to release some pressure on the other hard-core cagers.

Exams aren't that bad after all.

Really.

And They Lived Happily Ever After

2004-10-18T13:35:00.000+08:00

As in any good soap opera, any kink in a relationship must eventually end with the hero and heroine locked in kinky embrace.

Our couple in the drama described in an earlier post seems to have weathered the storm - I just saw them at the bus stop, girl clinging to guy's arm like a limpet, both smiling sweetly to each other, just like the perfect insurance ad.

I wanted to ask them to fill me in about how they eventually sorted things out, but as usual, I gave myself an excuse (they were too absorbed with each other).

Nor was I voyeuristic enough to hang around to see what else they did - got better things to do (like update my blog).

Stay tuned for the next episode, if any.

Physics, Probability, Philosophy, and Politics in a Polytechnic

2004-10-16T11:36:00.000+08:00

I'm sitting at the Lifestyle Library reading New Scientist (25 Sep 2004 issue) and I come across this article "In the Lap of Gods", talking about quantum physics and randomness.

What a great time to revive various ruminations I've been having for the past months, where seemingly unrelated ideas slowly began to fit together. But it's far from done; I sometimes feel like I'm trying to fit together a massive jigsaw puzzle, with too many missing pieces, blindfolded, and on horseback.

Maybe verbalising some of these thoughts would help.

Since most of these ideas are still only vaguely connected, I shall not try too hard to highlight the connections. Just bear in mind that all these are somehow connected, at least in my mind.

First we have physics, specifically quantum physics or quantum mechanics. Manifested in the famous double-slit experiment, where sub-atomic particles like electrons or photons individually exhibit seemingly random and completely unpredictable behaviour, while a whole bunch of them taken together would exhibit statistically predictable behaviour (such as forming a wave pattern).

Maybe the quantum world is too small to grasp, so let's look at something closer to real life. If you toss a fair coin, you cannot predict if it's heads next or tails; it's random. But because we know it's a fair coin, probability and statistics tell us that if we toss it enough times, the coin would land heads half the time, and tails the other half (assuming that the coin never lands on its side). Individually unpredictable, statistically predictable.

Then in philosophy and religion, the notion of determinism, where everything that will happen is basically already determined, versus free will, which we certainly seem to have. God has determined everything past, present, and future as opposed to humans having real free will. Or, for the atheistically-inclined with a materialistic worldview - mechanistic determinism versus free will.

In politics, the notion of social engineering with the use of propaganda, policies, and campaigns, and their effect on individual choice. We scoff when the government encourages Singaporeans to have more babies, but I have a distinct feeling that the birthrate will increase a notch, at least for a few years. Yet having a baby is a profoundly personal decision (okay there are times when it's an accident). Or the push for more entrepreneurship. Very funny, I thought, only a few years back. Now it seems like it's working to some extent. Or is it a case of selective perception/memory?

Life here at Ngee Ann Polytechnic is just a microcosm of Singapore politics. They have this mockably laughable "Canteen Tray Return System" where they expect us to believe that "it's hip to return your trays", but hey, a trickle of trays are actually getting returned in the canteens, mine included. Or they orchestrate a more impressive open house, and guess what? more students actually enrol.

Someone tell me to stop blogging.

The Best Place to Smoke

2004-10-15T13:43:00.000+08:00

The latest issue of Tribune announces:

A new and unpublicised rule, which bans students and staff from smoking at the bus stop immediately outside Ngee Ann Polytechnic (NP), says that first offenders will be given a warning, while those caught a second time will be slapped with a $40 fine.

I'm not a smoker, so this doesn't affect me so much. But I know people who are smokers.

For them, it's a perpetual cat-and-mouse game with the wardens, hiding in a remote corner of the campus (staircase landing, toilet, high-altitude corridor, etc.) to enjoy (if they can) their fag, while being prepared to bolt once they sense that a warden is near. And somehow, the warden is always near.

So one day this friend of mine asks me for advice. He wants a convenient place to smoke (no need to walk 5 minutes just to get there), and he wants to be safe from the pesky wardens. He wants his fag and smoke it too.

I've seen people smoking in canteen 1, I've seen smoking at the atrium, and it seems to me they don't get caught.

But I suspected that going to the canteen or atrium is still a little too much trouble for that lazy friend (why are we friends anyway?).

I'm the type that likes to wax philosophical before giving advice, so the recipient will appreciate the philosophical foundations of my profound wisdom.

"You heard that the most dangerous place is the safest place?"

"Yup."

"I'm sure you also know that moving targets are harder to hit?"

"Yeah." (He had already completed his NS.)

"So you tell me what you think would be a good solution." (I have this irritating habit of trying to make people think.)

Brief pause.

"Dunno lah. Just tell me lah." (He's not the type that likes to think.)

"I would think that the best and most convenient place to smoke is when you're walking openly in campus, like when you're walking to the canteen."

"You're nuts. The wardens will catch me!"

"Look, the wardens are not in the smoker-hunting mode when they're walking along in the open. They only hunt for smokers in the deserted alleys and dark corners."

After some protesting, he still couldn't argue with my wisdom, nor could he resist peer pressure, especially when the peer had just given him a perfectly-timed reassuring pat on his shoulder, so he numbly lit his Marlboro as we walked towards the canteen.

Nothing happened, although I wondered if he really enjoyed the smoke. But he seemed pretty much convinced.

The true test of my "wisdom" came when we were in the path of a warden some days later, and there was no escaping without arousing suspicion. I felt responsible to help him out.

"Guess what, there's a warden ahead."

"Oh @#$%!"

"Relax. Just keep walking normally. Act like your grandfather owns the school. Listen intently to what I'm saying to you, so that it looks like you're deep in an intellectual discussion, and you're trying very hard to hear what I'm saying despite the noise..."

The warden walked right by us.

"... and there's really no need to turn back to look yet, until we're at a safe distance."

When the warden was out of sight, he took in a deep breath (through the fag of course), and let out a smoke-filled sigh.

It pays to listen to my advice sometimes.

New Word: sesquipedalian

2004-10-14T09:38:00.000+08:00

sesquipedalian

Dictionary.com:
n.

A long word.

adj.

Given to the use of long words.
Long and ponderous; polysyllabic.

Make a sentence:

My woman-past-her-prime-acting-like-woman-in-her-prime lecturer relishes the use of garishly sesquipedalian verbiage to reinforce her linguistic superiority over us students.

One Big Zoo

2004-10-13T09:04:00.000+08:00

First, I get a comment from matt for a previous post saying that

peoplewatching is such an intelectually voyeuristic activity which can be more stimulating than the highest, fastest rollercoaster sometimes.

Then today, I stumble upon this girl's blog who waxes poetic and reminds me that "everything is voyeurism" (9 Oct 2004).

Okay fine, I admit it. I'm a voyeur of sorts. And you too, since you're reading my blog. The same girl writes on voyeurism:

reading blogs, peering at the
passenger who'd just boarded the bus

It's a little ironic - blogger-voyeurs like myself observing the physical dimension of humanity and wondering about our subjects' motivations, stimuli, and other aspects of the mental dimension; blog-reading-voyeurs like yourself observing the vocalized mental dimension of the bloggers like myself and sometimes wondering about our physical dimension and perhaps our potential for physical stimulation.

It's all one big zoo.

Studying in the Library

2004-10-12T15:49:00.000+08:00

I was at the library just now, trying to read something. Not too far from where I was sitting was a group of 3 guys and 3 girls studying. They were supposed to be studying anyway, but they were yabbing away. Yabbing about that funny thing that happened the other day to this other classmate which was so funny that we need to talk and laugh about it. And yes this other incident where I was with this other person and we did these things that were so wow that I just have to tell all of you about it. Oh yeah we're supposed to be studying. Studying. Oh yeah did you guys know what happened to this other guy his girl? There is no way you guys will ever forgive me if I don't tell...

How do these people study anyway? There's just no way I could study in a group. I don't think it's because I'm antisocial (which I certainly am), but maybe it's because I don't believe in doing tutorials or studying consistently, so I can't afford to be distracted if I want to start studying 3 days before the paper, and still get a decent grade.

Or maybe they're just smarter than me, and I'm jealous.

What is the Meaning of Life?

2004-10-11T16:19:00.000+08:00

With exams looming, stress levels surging, and heightened mental activity, every now and then, somewhere in a quiet corner of the campus, there will be someone asking herself such a question.

Checking our library's OPAC system for "meaning of life" will yield about 10 books on the subject. 10 BOOKS! Frankly, who would read a whole book or even chapter just to get this question answered, especially during the exam period?

Here's my short and direct answer to the question:

The property or quality that distinguishes living organisms from dead organisms and inanimate matter, manifested in functions such as metabolism, growth, reproduction, and response to stimuli or adaptation to the environment originating from within the organism.

Thanks, Dictionary.com. I only copied the first one of a litany of definitions.

I wonder why no one has ever asked me such a question.

P.S. Here's an interesting site on the meaning of life, with video interviews of scientists, philosophers, theologians, and the like waxing lyrical about the subject. Yet none of them really answer the question directly, unlike me.

Temper Tantrums

2004-10-09T11:54:00.000+08:00

Was at canteen 1, minding my own business, when I heard a loud THOMP!

Some guy 2 tables away had just slammed his his hard on the table, and was pretending that it didn't hurt. Something - maybe it was that big frown - told me that he was not in a happy mood. His girlfriend did not look happy too.

A fight! Lovers' tiff! I kept my fingers crossed, and pretended to mind my own business, while the corner of my eye kept them in view.

They guy was motionless, probably paralyzed by the pain and waiting for it to subside so he could make his next move. He was also probably wondering what his next move should be, knowing very well that his next move had to attract more attention than table-thomping for it to achieve the intended effect.

I was not disappointed.

He shot up from his seat, grabbed a handphone on the table, and threw it hard on the floor. Pieces of plastic flew in all directions as the Nokia spun across the well-greased canteen floor. It was quite spectacular.

To add to the effect, he also kicked another canteen chair so that it bounced noisily on the floor.

Satisfied that there were enough people staring at him with open mouths, he sat back down in a huff and buried his furious face in his arms on the table.

The girlfriend meekly went round the vicinity picking up the bits of Nokia, sat back down beside him, and proceeded to assembling back the Nokia (potential Nokia ad).

Soon after she was done, our hero lifted up his still-angry head, and his eyes caught sight of the as-good-as-new Nokia on the table mocking him.

What do you expect? He grabbed the Nokia again, but before he could do anything with it, the girlfriend grabbed his hand and started pleading with him. This went on for a minute or two as tears streamed down her face. Being a nice person, I wanted to offer her some tissue, but I decided not to. I didn't want to spoil the show.

After a while, the guy finally relented, and the girl went away to the restroom with the Nokia safe with her. As expected, the guy sat in stony silence, thinking about the next move. I wanted to go up to him and suggest, "how about the Toshiba?" It would have been ultra-cool seeing the laptop crashing hard onto the floor. But he did not look like the approachable type, so I chickened out.

Anyway, I didn't wait for the next scene; the drama was unfolding way too slowly by then, even after the girlfriend came back, so I eventually got bored and left.

Microskirts

2004-10-08T08:02:00.000+08:00

Someone commented to me that the top of skirts are getting lower, and the bottom higher.

There used to be a rule stating that the hemline of a skirt must not be more than 10cm above the kneecaps. Maybe they figured a way to increase male student attendance, which would in turn increase female attendance. The politburo could be smarter than I realised. Only problem is that some male lecturers may lengthen their already-boring lectures rather unnecessarily...

Another reason could be that NP is under pressure from the government to do its part to increase Singapore's birthrate. Just the other day I saw this pregnant NP student on the bus, so maybe it's working.

But perhaps the politburo really wants to reduce the incidence of microskirts, and without acting like the politburo. They only need to look here for some ideas:
1. Increase aircon power
2. More reflective tiles on the floor
3. Bring in sandflies
4. Large gaps on the ground (must stretch legs to cross over)
5.

P.S. NP is not alone. An SMU girl complains (you don't expect a GUY to complain, do you?):

Girls inching forward uncomfortably because of skirts so short ...

New Word: metonymy

2004-10-07T14:16:00.000+08:00

metonymy

Dictionary.com:

A figure of speech in which one word or phrase is substituted for another with which it is closely associated, as in the use of Washington for the United States government or of the sword for military power.

Make a sentence:

I wonder if North Korea is a good metonomy for Ngee Ann, or would it be too insulting to the Koreans...

The Da Vinci Code

2004-10-07T13:15:00.000+08:00

This is crazy. They have 4 copies of Dan Brown's Da Vinci code in the library, and 23 people are already in the reserve queue! I never knew NPites were so interested in a novel built on a pile of conspiracies based on atrocious research.

I'm hoping to read Secrets of the Code : the Unauthorized Guide to the Mysteries behind the Da Vinci Code edited by Dan Burstein, and there are already 2 reserves.

Maybe I'll just go ahead and buy it *sigh*

More Choices

2004-10-07T10:33:00.000+08:00

Looks like Hype and Tribune have competition, called "Choices", which is distributed to the JCs, Polys, and Unis, with a claimed readership of over 80,000.

What Choices needs to do is to give their Photoshop guy some retraining (by me perhaps?) to rid the cover page model (Caroline Cheong, some TV personailty) of her serious eyebags, which makes her look almost double her 22 years. And hire better photographers or editors who can pick more flattering pictures of her, rather than those that make her look like some already-past-her-prime karaoke lounge hostess.

Back to the Photoshop-retraining-needed guy(s) - someone should tell em that Photoshop has a feature (that has been there forever) called "feather", so the pictures won't look so obviously cut n pasted.

But who notices these kinds of things anyway?