Apathetic Avenger

The Straits Times. Trash or Treasure?

Has anyone taken a look at Sunday's newspaper, The Straits Times?

It seems that SPH finds reporting real news to be beneath them these days, and that their true calling lies in pointless drivel. Indulge me, if you will, and let us take a look at the front page together. Above the title, on the far left corner, is everyone's favorite trio of sluts, Lindsay Lohan, Britney Spears, and the porn star hotel heiress. It appears that the article that features those lovely ladies talks about how bad and naughty they are, which the general public should most definitely be aware of. Next on the right, there's a Singaporean fellow (I have absolutely no clue what his name is) who's supposed to be the BEST-PAID (I'm just quoting from the papers) footballer in all of Singapore. Next, on the right again, introduces an article, that apparently shows you that You CAN fool (quoting again)... something. I have no idea what the picture is showing, it's out of focus and over-exposed. On the top right corner, there's a list of awards that The Straits Times has won. One of them is, ironically, for excellence in feature photography.

I did not make that up.

Below the title, "A BLOODY, BAD-TEMPERED NEW YEAR HERE".

I have no idea what that is supposed to mean. Honestly. It's as if they gave a monkey a crayon. I didn't know that a good command of English was no longer mandatory for employees working for an English language newspaper. If you glance back up at the list of awards, you would notice that none of them are for the actual news, articles, or content, of the newspaper.

What is my point? I think that should be quite obvious by now. I feel that the quality of The Straits Times could do with some improving, and in several different areas. Perhaps the standard of this newspaper wasn't always so poor, maybe it fell only recently. I can't say for certain, because I can quite honestly admit, I didn't really start reading the newspaper until I was about 14. I did read the newspapers, but only the Life section, and for only one reason, the comics. Garfield was my idol. He was, that is, until he stopped being funny. The reason I didn't read the papers was, simply because I was still a kid, and a kid was supposed to do kid things. Play, be carefree, laugh, leave the worries and problems to the grown-ups. These days, I'm still a kid, albeit a more cynical and marginally more intelligent one.

It appears that The Straits Times is trying to get everyone to part with 80cents to buy their precious newspapers, meaning, they're attempting to appeal to everyone, meaning, the lowest denominator in society. What other possible explanation can be given, considering the state that it's in? Trivial matters can make headlines. Minor scandals take up an entire page. News is reported with sensationalized headlines, and sometimes, quite frankly, inconsequential content. The Straits Times shouldn't be forced to stoop to this level. There's already another newspaper for those who like to read about these sort of things, and it's called The New Paper. Might I add, it's also published by SPH. Wait, all our newspapers are published by SPH. Except Today, which people only read because it's given out for free.

Sometimes when I read The Straits Times, I can't tell whether I'm reading an article, an advertisement, or an advertisement for another article. One time, I read an informative article, only to discover halfway through that McDonald's Grilled Chicken Foldover was guaranteed to rock my socks off. I can safely say, that a quarter of The Straits Times is made of up advertisements. On Saturdays, I would say a third. Take today's paper, the back pages shows a picture of Singapore's favorite son, Jack Neo, our "One", smiling for Mitsubishi air-conditioners, not because they reduced his electricity bills, but because of the large pile of money he made for putting his pretty face and a thumbs-up on their ad. Every other day Olinda Cho, who is not at all Chio (haha) tells me that I could be well on the way to a slimmer waist, and more shapely legs and thighs. Mary Chia shows me that I could have a larger, firmer bust, which will make my husband love me more. BMW tries to convince me, a 17 year old penniless student, that I can afford their latest 3 series automobile, and that I can get substantials savings if I buy now. Starhub, M1, and Singtel, try in vain to convince me that the LG Chocolate is much cooler than my crappy 3 year old Sony Ericsson T630. (I must show it to you one day) And by the way, it's not. Too many advertisements. Enough, no more, tis not so sweet now, as it was before.

I know that the PAP has done many good things for Singapore in the past, but please, SPH, Straits Times, there's no need to praise them to high heaven or take their side every single time. Just read any article on local politics or the government's decisions. You'll see what I mean. For example, GST hike. 7%. Notice how our papers gave a very one sided view? All I read about was how it was for our good, that it was bitter medicine, how the government would help us get through it, and that we should just shut the hell up and stop being such whiny bitches. Little to none of the articles painted a bad picture of the GST hike. No downsides were given. All we heard was positive, positive, positive. Reporters Without Borders, RSF (No, I'm not a moron. It's RSF because its Reporters sans frontières, which is like French or something) has ranked Singapore 146th out of 166 countries in its annual World Press Freedom Ranking in 2006. We were 147th in 2004, but 140th in 2005, so I guess we improved.

Another thing that annoys me about The Straits Times is how they publish articles without thinking properly. Ever action has a consequence, and with great power comes great responsibility. Once again, in today's papers, on the third page, an article telling people that they can cheat the parking lots (So that was what the lousy picture was showing) helping them save about $20 a month. Now, what did they think the average Singaporean driver would react to this article?

"Hmm, how interesting! Oh, look below, there's an ad for a new condo! I must read that!"

No.

The Singaporean, being the cheap bastard that he is, would immediately go down to his nearest mall, enter the parking lot, and even though he doesn't need to buy anything or get anything done, he will try to cheat his way to the sweet joy known as free parking. Oh dear, Straits Times, what have you done?

The Straits Times is owned by SPH, which is pretty much owned by the government. It should have the official tone of a respectable and well-regarded publication. It should have a certain air and sense of formality. I think that it should be something that is a worthy representative of the Republic Of Singapore.

Majulah Singapura.

Labels: Current Affairs, Musings

Blogged @ 9:21 PM

Chinese New Year?

I know I promised that I would post an update this weekend, but I wanted to post something about Chinese New Year, and since my celebrations last a few days, I can only post AFTER I've finished celebrating. This Chinese (or Lunar, whatever you prefer) New Year, I learned many new things. I came up with new conclusions, I pondered about previously unconsidered thoughts.

One new thing I learned, was ironically, about learning. The thing I learned was that there is no such word as learnt. There is a learn, there is a learning, and there is a learner. Astounding. I now cringe at the thought of my linguistic inadequacies. Perhaps my foundation of language was built on a lie? Or is that builded? Woe is me.

I now also understand why it's called Chinese New Year, and why the other real new year isn't called Western New Year. The reason is simple. Chinese people can't count. Sure, they have done amazing things, let's not take that away from them. They built the Great Wall, they make pretty plates, and their monks have incredible kung-fu skills, which led to the hit song Kung-Fu Fighting. However, you still can't deny the fact that despite their impressive 2000 year history, they do not have the abilities to do basic arithmetic. Why do I say this? For one thing, their Chinese New Year is on a different day, EVERY SINGLE YEAR. I know the gist how it is calculated, that the system is based on the moon, but I'm not so certain about the specifics of this branch of Chinese Voodoo Magic. If this doesn't convince you that Chinese people are terrible at math, let me provide you with another piece of information. Chinese New Year lasts 15 days.

Yes, I'm baffled too. By the end of the New Year, the year isn't really that new anymore.

I know that some people like to call Chinese New Year "Lunar New Year". That annoys me. It really does. It just doesn't make any sense. The moon doesn't celebrate new year. Moon people don't celebrate the new year. Chinese people celebrate the new year. That's why we call it the Chinese New Year. In addition, since I'm an elitist snob, and like to limit the company I keep to a mere billion or so, I think Chinese New Year is for yellow people only. Sure, people of other races can enjoy their extended holiday, just don't eat my bahkua. And don't take my money.

After a lengthy debate with myself, I think my relatives hate me. And I think their rage and loathing are justified. I'm not talking about those relatives that are close to me. They're fine with me. I hope. I'm referring to those that don't know how old I am. Let us seriously consider this for a minute. I see them three times a year. One is during my grandfather's birthday party, the other is during my grandmother's birthday party. The last one is Chinese New Year. One out of every three times I see them, I take their money. I would be infuriated too. I can see the signs. A look of twisted deliriousness from the depths of hell barely masked behind a false gleaming veneer of a thin grimace that was meant to pass as a smile. A red packet, clutched tightly, a weary heart unwillingly to let go. A scream that echo upon the cavernous walls of the deep, dark, dank pit that lies within the soul.

Perhaps in the past, in the previous generation or two, family was much more important. I've heard tales from the ancient ones about how family was most important, how they depended on each other. To them, blood was thicker than water. But this is not the case anymore. These days, the blood has been diluted. It may be due to liberalization, westernization, or even modernization, who knows. But the erosion of family ties cannot be denied. Not that I'm complaining. I can be quite anti-social. Or so I'm told. Sometimes, I just can't be bothered to socialized with people. I have no desire or reason to get to know them better. Unless I can make use of or manipulate them.

Just kidding.

I'm not anti-social.

You know that kind of people who honestly do find pleasure in getting to meet new people, find out about the tiniest details of their lives, and are willing to share the tiniest details of their lives for all to hear? I'm not one of them. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure my relatives are all decent, nice, good people. Most of them, anyway, according to more stories by the ancient ones. But I'm just not one who revels in forced interactions. I'm not much of a conversationalist. Many of my exchanges with relatives/grandparent's friends/random-person-at-my-house-whom-I-do-not-know usually follow one of a few patterns.

1. "Wow! Look how tall you are!"

2. "Wow! Look how big you are!"

3. "Wow! Look how fat you are!"

There are variations. But those are the main points. They are usually followed with remarks of how much time has passed, how I used to be a little kid, or reassurances of how I will slim down, and how NS will be good for me. Sometimes I even get queries about what school or JC I'm currently studying at, so that a silent mental comparison can be made between myself and their children. As always, I acknowledge these statements with a gracious smile and nods of agreement. You must remember, I do have an ulterior motive, red blessings filled with monetary goodness.

I'm such a whore.

Cry for me. Your tears will thaw my frozen heart. A heart that was frozen by 16 YEARS OF WHORINESS.

After a lengthy 23 second chat, we stand in an awkward silence, then I move along, slowly inching away, towards sweet freedom, only to be faced with the same thing. AGAIN. 14 TIMES. Woe is, once again, me.

So what should we do? How do we overcome this problem that has plagued this generation? Is there any way we could counteract this problem? The way I see it, there are two choices. One, you arrange to meet up with them every other week. You become close friends. They become a major part of your lives. Two, you continue seeing them a handful of times a year, and just deal with the awkwardness.

May you be showered with blessings and prosperity.

Happy Chinese New Year.

Labels: Musings

Blogged @ 2:15 PM

My Deepest Apologies

I know that I normally post updates on Thursdays and Sundays. I also know that there was no post on Sunday, and there wasn't the slightest hint of apology or explanation to be found. As such, I'm sure that many of you are suffering from a bout of severe depression, with rusty razor blades clutched in your shivering hands, as you didn't get the chance to interact with me, or bask in the glory that is my presence. I am the sole reason for your otherwise pointless existence.

Bullshit.

Anyway, I have a really good reason for missing an update. The past week was really busy for me. I had projects, homework, CCA trainings, CCA meetings, events, and many other exciting and wonderful events. Okay, I have to admit, that's a complete and utter lie.

Why do I like to lie? Because I'm a liar.

So, I didn't post anything because I was really lazy. I pretty much spent my weekend doing absolutely nothing. I slacked. Stoned. Stood stupefied. Sorry. It's quite likely that I'm one of the few people on this planet that write about nothing, and takes an inappropriately large amount of time to do so. Oh well, hooray for my uniqueness.

Oh, this may or may not interest you, but I'm now officially in the ACJC Editorial Board. If you don't understand what that means, it means I'm in the yearbook committee. So if happen to flip open this coming year's ACJC College Annual, and just so happen to notice my face splashed across the front cover, with numerous other self-portraits on every other page, you would know why. Narcissism!

For those of you who don't know, or still don't believe me, I really am in Track & Field. Really. I have nothing to gain by telling such a far-fetched story. Don't give me that incredulous stare. It's true. It really is. I'm a 100m sprinter, as well as a high jumper.

I honestly have no idea what I'm trying to express today. I promise that this weekend, I'll post an update.

Don't forget that I lie, the reason being that I'm a liar.

Oh, though this may seem completely out of place, Happy (belated) Valentine's Day.

Labels: Spontaneously Spouting Silly Stuff

Blogged @ 8:42 PM

Deprivation!

I'm feeling quite lazy. So, I'm going to plagiarize the work of others!

Here's today's post. I cannot claim credit for it. To be honest, even if I could, I wouldn't want to. I don't to be ostracized or shunned for my incredible nerd and geek qualities. I want a normal social life. I don't want to be pointed at. For someone to have thought of such a joke, wow, they must suffer from major issues, or even have had traumatic experiences or perhaps a deprived childhood.

Here it is.

It is Friday evening and f(x) = x decided to throw a party for his brethren functions. Within the hour, the room was filled. f(x) = x + 1 was chatting up the curvaceous f(x) = sin x in a corner while f(x) = 1/x and f(x) = 1/x2 entered a drinking contest with near-infinite amounts of beer, ignoring the concerned comments that their limits were zero; they were soon carted off to a hospital. However, in this vivacious and chaotic atmosphere f(x) = x saw f(x) = e^x alone in a corner, differentiating himself from the crowd. Slightly tipsy, f(x) = x stumbled over to his friend and asked:

"Hey you, why don't you integrate yourself with the crowd?"

f(x) = e^x threw a dark glare at f(x) = x and then sighed.

"You know it won't make any difference."

Sad as it may be, I laughed at that joke. Out loud, as in "hahaha", not silently in my mind. When I read it for the second time, I laughed. Again.

I cried myself to sleep.

Anyway, if you didn't get that joke, I have another one for you. Don't worry, you don't have to think much. I claim to have came up with it, but apparently so do many others. Oh well.

Here it is:

What did the 0 say to the 8?

Nice belt!

Yay. Alright. Tomorrow's quite a big day for many of you. I would wish all of you a hearty "Good Luck!", but your grades were decided a long time ago. Sincere as my well-wishes may be, they still won't have any effect on the outcome.

Oh yea, and I'm supposed to do really badly for my O Levels since Javier sent me a chain-SMS that was meant to bless me with wonderful luck, but since I didn't want to waste $0.50 sending it to 10 other people, I am cursed for all eternity. Woe is me.

If you see me sweeping roads two days from now, you'll know the reason.

Labels: Spontaneously Spouting Silly Stuff

Blogged @ 8:49 PM

Have You No Shame?

I hate Stephen Covey.

No, it's not because of SJI. For those Josephians who forgot, or didn't even know in the first place, one of our teachers, gave us a series of talks based on the Stephen Covey's best selling book, The 7 Habits Of Highly Effective People. Remember now? It was sometime between the "get religious guy with weird accent to speak about his religion and in the process get ridiculed by immature 16 year old pricks" talks, and the "watch naked babies swimming in the water, while listening to some guy talk about innocence or whatever" talks.

Sad to say, the only part about the 7 Habits talk that I remember was when some moron was making noise and talking to his friend, the teacher became rather angry, and said moron was singled out and scolded. Heh. Good times.

This doesn't say much for my listening skills, (come on, the lectures were given at the last period of the day.) but it says even less for the credibility of the effectiveness of The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. Irony!

Anyway, back on topic. I hate Stephen Covey. I don't hate him for writing that book of his. No, not at all. I however, despise him for the fact that he came up with the idea before me. Damn him. Damn his shiny bald white head. Damn his Caucasian entrepreneurial skills. For those of you who think I'm insane, hear me out. His book has sold over 15 million copies. If he had one dollar for each book, he would still be enviably rich. As a result of the fame from the book, people have become very willing to pay him to talk (how I would love that) as a motivational speaker. Basically, he repeats whatever is in the book, gesticulates a bit with his hands, and, yayness, he earns more money.

Most of you must be thinking, that I must have an enormous head, an overly inflated sense of self worth, as well as a massive ego, to think that I, a lowly teenage boy, could have written that book. But I don't. I think anyone could do it. All you need is common sense. Let's examine the 7 habits, shall we?

1. Be Proactive
2. Begin With The End In Mind
3. Put First Things First
4. Think Win-Win
5. Seek First To Understand, Then To Be Understood
6. Synergize
7. Sharpen The Saw

If those don't really make sense, let me elaborate a little.

1. Take responsibility for your actions.
2. (I don't think this need explaining)
3. Do important and urgent stuff first.
4. Try to get the best possible outcome, for all parties involved, of any situation.
5. Listen, be sincere, get the full picture. Don't force you advice on others. Try to be of real help.
6. Make full use of your strengths.
7. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

Okay. Done. Now let me ask you. How many of these things did you not know before? Honestly? Zero? Maybe one, for those uninformed ones out there? So basically, should you make the poor decision to buy the book, you're getting $20 worth of common sense, a few dull, repetitive stories, paper, and a nice picture cover.

Stupid con artist.

Stephen Covey is skilled. I really wish I wrote the book first. Unfortunately, the book was published in 1989, and, tragically, I was born in 1990. So unless I become a big clever physicist, and invent a cool looking car that can travel through time, I'm out of luck. Not that I would need the money if I could travel through time. But I digress.

I think we are not looking at one isolated solitary incident. Go to Borders. Look at the self-help section. Go there. It reaches out to infinity. Time stands still. Not only that, you will find the meaning of life and the one universal truth. Okay, that's a lie. But you get my point. All these greedy sell-outs all just want a piece of an ever-growing pie. It's utter nonsense. There are all sorts of books out there that claim themselves to be absolutely vital to a healthy and joyous life. Yet somehow, those who have never read the book are able to survive, and not just crawl about in their own filth, drool spewing forth from the corners of their mouths.

You don't need to be told how to live your life. You know how to. You've always have. Be the master of your destiny, corny as it may sound. Let your long winding path of life lead to where you want to be, not where someone else said you should be. That's my advice, its all I have to say.

And I'm not even gonna charge you a cent for it.

Labels: Musings

Blogged @ 10:05 PM

Pointless Panicking Puts People in Potentially Precarious Positions.

Sorry, couldn't help myself.

Good news, Emo Deyong has been banished to some far away dimension in some deep dark corner of my consciousness. He materialized for a brief stay, but don't worry, I'm back.

Anyway, the big news, as of now, and for those who are around 16 years old, is that the O Level results are coming out soon. So yeah. Yay. However, to my surprise and puzzlement, I found out from a fair number (okay, all) of my friends that they were feeling nervous about the upcoming results. I was stunned, stupefied, shocked, and staggered by this revelation. I hear stories of sleepless nights, nail biting, fidgeting, whining, and other general displays of anxiousness. I even had vivid descriptions of dreams involving getting 13 points and crying.

No, I am not going to brag about how easy the exams were(they weren't), or how I'm going to ace them(I won't). I am not an egoistical and self-important mofo. I just know, that if I were to act in that manner, God, in the name of comedy, irony, righteousness, and all that is good and holy, would give me a L1B5 score of 108. So, I'm not gonna jinx anything. I'm keeping quiet.

Now that I look back, I seem to recall a large number of people whom, at times right after certain examination papers, who walk out of the hall exclaiming in loud, clear voices, how easy the paper was, and how an A1 was guaranteed. These people proceeded to strut and swagger around at the canteen, relaxing, while people like me mugged desperately at the last minute.

What I'm trying to say is that, there is absolutely no point in worrying about these sort of things. The situation is beyond your control. Worrying won't make your grades go higher. It won't make you get 6 points. It won't make you go into RJC. It's better to worry about these sort of things when the situation is actually in your control, meaning, before you take your exams. This way, you can study your ass off, and actually get better grades.

Nothing positive can come out off worrying. Allow me to present two situation. Best-case scenario, you get 6 points, meaning you worried for nothing, and feel stupid afterwards. Worst-case scenario, you get 54 points, you cry, suffer from depression. You beat yourself up over how you slacked and played DOTA everyday instead of learning about photosynthesis. You realize, though its too late, that you should have worked harder, rather than complain and bitch about it after its over.

Actually, to be honest, I feel that O Levels are quite pointless. They are just a stepping stone to the next level. The O Levels are meant to lead on to greater things, whether they be university degrees, polytechnic diplomas, or what have you. So basically, you study hard at secondary school, so that you can advance to the next level. No one in the real world cares whether you got an A1 for Chemistry when you were 16. Two weeks after you receive your results, you will toss that forgotten laminated piece of paper in some damp dusty corner of your house.

So basically, don't worry about your exams.

Oh yeah, I realized that I said before that I would post "mini-updates" on Thursdays.

You must understand, that my interpretation of "mini" may be completely different from yours.

Labels: Spontaneously Spouting Silly Stuff

Blogged @ 7:52 PM