The Apathetic Avenger

Bacca Thing

2008-10-09T22:15:00.003+08:00

Today we had Baccalaureate Service.

Which is a fancy word for last day of school.

The service took place in the hall. People cried. Moving speeches were made. Hugs were distributed widely. Teachers spurred us on to make the most of our lives, and gave us some advice as well.

Towards the end, we all leapt onto our chairs, embraced each other, and swayed in that way, all whilst singing some emo song. I don't like writing cliches but it's not my fault if it's the subject matter.

Last year our seniors did the exact same thing. I wonder if this is some sort of NEVER-ENDING CHAIN OF INFINITY.

It was quite a wonderful experience, the ending of one phase of my life, a beginning of another. I will never be a uniform-wearing student again. This marks the final days of my junior college life.

Well except for tomorrow, I have to go back to school. Oh yea Monday, lessons and mock exam. And there's still the A Levels.

BUT after that, I will no longer be a student at ACJC again.

Oh I forgot about the day when we collect our results.

Oh yes thank you very much Daimyo. I'm really very touched by your present. I feel really special. All the best for your promos. Enjoy your stay in ACJC while you can. Soon you'll be in my position.

2008-10-05T22:15:00.002+08:00

Eating red dragon fruit turns your poo purple.

Exam Procedure

2008-08-26T22:04:00.005+08:00

[Never mind. This post has been made stupid due to a paradigm shift.]

NDP, only without the ND.

2008-08-08T23:38:00.007+08:00

I was watching the Olympics opening ceremony. I'm not quite certain, but I think it started at 8:08:08 on 08/08/08. I was eating dinner at that time. You can sense my excitement.

That's a freaking lot of 8s. Chinese people believe the number 8 to be especially auspicious. They came to this conclusion because the the number 8 sounds like the Chinese character for luck. The infallible logic of rhyming.

If ancient Chinese voodoo practices are right, then we can apply the Law of Rhyming Co-relation to all aspects of our lives. We can eat honey to get more money. We can drink water through straws (suck) to get more luck. We could also... well never mind.

Well anyway, I was watching the opening ceremony. To me, all these events seem vaguely similar to me. A country wants to show off, puts up this large scale show, where thousands of people are roped into wearing colourful and bizarre costumes. They move in synchrony, waving their thingies and forming words and shapes and other wonderful symbols.

I've seen this performance before. I see it every year. It's called National Day. The Olympics opening ceremony was basically Singapore's National Day Parade, only that it's held in China, and they spend much more money, because they are bigger than us. They are the same in spirit. There's the cheesy song, the cultural thing, the symbolic performance, the dancing.

However, the later part of the ceremony was different. The countries started coming out one by one, displaying their Olympic teams. All 205 of them. You'd think that after a while, watching people carrying a flag and waving would get boring. It did. I stopped watching. But one thing I noticed was the China performer girls that were hanging around were clapping and cheering whilst the teams walked past. Their enthusiasm was palpable. Later in the evening, I walked passed the tv on the way to the kitchen. I saw that the China performer girls' enthusiasm had deflated abit. They were probably tired out and pissed off from all the jumping around in high heels for an hour. That was funny.

So that was pretty much all I took back from watching the ceremony. Girls with tired feet. Sure there was the singing and chinese culture and some strange painting thing where they rolled around on canvases while painting it at the very same time. Okay that last thing was pretty cool. But all the mass dancing and drums and clapping, and costumes and history are so common. I saw similar things on tv at the WorldCup, previous Olympics, and of course, NDP.

National Day is tomorrow. Happy National Day? I <3 Singapore.

WOOOOOHOOOOOO!

2008-08-01T21:30:00.006+08:00

Rejoice! Let us celebrate the awesomeness of this day, the 1st day of the 8th month of the year 2008.

I have finally removed my braces.

It has been a long an arduous journey. It began nearly 6 years ago. I'm not joking. Back then I was a wide-eyed innocent little boy (really.) that didn't know very much about the world. I was brought to the dentist's office, because as my mom told me, my teeth were hideous and freakishly out of place. We needed to spend a large sum of money to rectify that problem immediately!

I remember immediately after the installation was complete, I thought, 'Eh this isn't too bad, I'm not in that much pain.' However, within 2 hours, the pain set in. I couldn't even lick my teeth (not that it's a habit of mine) without feeling HELLISH STABBING JOLTS OF EVIL PAIN. That night, I had to chew food with my tongue.

So after a while, I became familiar with the routine. Every month I'd go and tighten... the stuff (that's the technical term), and be unable to eat properly for 2 days. Actually I could have made that into some sort of diet, but sadly, no.

However, after a while I just stopped going. I'm not sure why. There was a period of 6 months when I did not go for a single appointment. Maybe I became emotionally attached to my braces. Or perhaps I was subconsciously trying to resist change. Then there was the possibility of a childish fear of pain. But I think it was probably because I'm just a really lazy dude.

After a while, I decided to get my act together, and went for appointments! Woohoo. Within a few months, I could take off the bottom row of braces! Hoorah! But my top row of teeth decided to be pricks, and refused to budge. A year passed. Two years passed. I had to re-attach braces to my bottom row of teeth to use as reinforcements to pull those stubborn upper row fools down.

Over the past 2 years, my dentist would tell me after every appointment "just a little more", or "two more months", "we are almost done". On the next appointment I would be brimming with hope, my heart aflame with the possibility of freedom from the oppression of metal shackles attached to my teeth. I would then die a little upon receiving the dreaded phrase, "I'll see you next month then. We're almost done."

However, on this afternoon of the 1st day of the 8th month of the year 2008, things were different. He examined my teeth closely, with a look of satisfaction on his face. Very good, very good, his murmurs echoed in my head. Could this be the day?

I was given a choice. My teeth were looking pretty good. I could either wear my braces for a while longer, and make them look even nicer. OR I could take them off right there and then.

I took a moment to look at a mirror, and pretend that I hadn't already made up my mind the moment those words left his mouth. After a minute of contemplative silence, I whispered silently, 'I think they look quite alright. Let's take it off.'

I then danced silently in my mind.

Removing the braces is a wonderful feeling. After years of having to worry about getting food stuck in strange nooks and crannies, wrapping rubber bands around my teeth, and getting massive ulcers, having those metallic bits scrapped off my teeth felt wonderful. It really made my day.

I know this is an insignificant event, but I'm glad it's finally over.

Now my front teeth look massive.

Hey

2008-07-17T18:31:00.003+08:00

It's been about 3 months since I've posted up anything here. In my absence, I think there's an Argentinian man flirting with me.

Well prelims are coming yadda yadda A levels stress etc etc. Typical story of a JC student. Not that interesting, but it's all I know.

I'm surrounded by peers with incredible work ethics and high hopes. I see students studying hard. I see friends getting invited to scholarship talks. I see people who aspire to enter Ivy League universities.

What about myself?

I barely have my act together. I keep telling myself prelims are meant to be screwed up, so that I'll get terrified and study my ass off for the As. I'm aiming to get a place in a good course in a local university. I haven't really considered going overseas for my education. It's expensive, and since I'm not scholar material, I wouldn't be very comfortable putting this additional financial burden on my parents. They've done more than enough. NUS and NTU are actually relatively decent universities, and at a fraction of the cost, it's very hard not to consider them. Besides, both my parents went local (not that there was any other choice in their time), and they seem to be doing quite alright.

Recently I stumbled onto a few old friends from Japan in facebook. Facebook is great if you want to take dozens of personality tests or send virtual drinks to each other, but it's also great for finding lost friends and acquaintances.. My friends all managed to get into well-regarded universities, a few that I recall seeing were Duke and Northwestern. However, from what I recall, they weren't really all that fantastic in their studies. Maybe they got their act together after I left, but I still think that many of my current classmates in ACJC are at least on par if not better than them academically.

I think the problem with us 18 year olds is that we see getting into a good school as the end, but actually it's only the beginning. After completing our education, that is when we venture into society, and hopefully make a positive contribution in whatever ways we can. That's when it really counts. So screw that, I won't be jealous of people who get into better schools than me, I'll be satisfied with a Singaporean education.

Not that getting into a local university is a sure thing for me. It's time to study.

Hopefully everything will turn out alright. I may not be the smartest, cleverest, or the very best at anything, but I'm okay with that.

Oh since I stopped blogging I realised that the standard of my written English has dropped. Maybe I need practice. Perhaps I'll come back here more often.

Yay Project Work

2008-04-12T08:56:00.002+08:00

Oh joy! Project Work results are out.

A hearty congratulations to HCJC, for achieving the very outstanding result of 98% distinction for this very important subject.

Yes, that is not a typo. 98% Distinction. Seems just a tad excessive, wouldn't you say? Is it really possible that out of say, 1000 students, 980 had highly commendable work? That they all presented their unique ideas with charisma, and engaged their examiners with witty banter? Yes, it is possible, just like how it is possible that one day I will be bitten by a radioactive spider, gain superpowers, and I'll put on revealing tights and swing around the city at night, dealing with thugs and evil dudes. But then I'll get arrested for leaving all that web behind, dirtying our beautiful garden city with my gross stick discharge. That sentence came out wrong.

Spiderman could never live in Singapore.

Then again, maybe I'm just pretty damn jealous because I didn't get an A myself. I got B. But to be honest, I didn't really know what was going on, even until the very end. And I was the freaking group leader. It's not just me. Many people were the same. We all wandered around the school campus, muttering to ourselves, 'I don't know what the hell I'm doing'. All I knew was that I was glad when our OP, the final exam for PW, was over. I also know that I laughed at the J1s when they were told this year that it was their turn to do PW.

But the thing is that even amongst the classes at ACJC, the PW results varied greatly. There were some which had like 24/28 getting distinction, others with half the class getting the A, then my class with 2 getting the coveted result. That was awesome. It's not like my class is dumb. We're not. Really.

Perhaps I'm just being some crappy sour grapes. HwaChong students probably worked hard, and really deserved their As. Congratulations to them.

But getting a distinction is not really the point. Whether we have learned any new important skills after having been through PW, now that is the real point. Being really good at playing SuperMario isn't really very useful, but then again, it is a skill. Many people that I've talked to don't really know what they taken back from all this. I can think of a few things I've learned. The first is to bullshit. Because that's what PW is about. The second is Leadership. The third is working as a group. And the fourth is... wait, that's about it.

Yes. PW has imparted a few skills to me. However, I believe that all these skills can be taught much better in many other ways. Bullshitting, you learn that while interacting with your friends. Leadership can be developed through CCAs. Working as a group, CCAs as well. The thing is, ACJC has already had it's own PW for many many years. In fact, this year was the 19th year it has been carried out, compared to the 5 or so that the A Level subject was introduced. I feel that I really learned a lot from ACJC's PW, also known as Fun-O-Rama.

Oh man, you really learn a lot from Fun-O-Rama. Dealing with bullshit, other people, and other people's bullshit. And you actually carry out the project, so it's not all just planning and planning, it's also practical. Sure, you're being used by the school, and you're forced to neglect your studies for a bit, but earning money for the school does make you feel warm inside. The Fun-O-Rama atmosphere is really something very special. There's nothing like it. Wait for the one two years from now.

So anyway, what is the point of Project Work? It doesn't seem to fill in any niche. It's just there, filling no purpose, like the dude who you don't like, but you don't object to him hanging out with you, but you don't really pay much attention to him either.

Back.

2008-03-10T10:51:00.005+08:00

I've been neglecting this place for far too long. Exams, stress, etc etc. Typical excuses. Moving along.

I got a D for my A Level H1 Chinese exam. I am deliriously happy. Never again will I have to attend Chinese lessons. No longer will I be faced with 1hr20mins periods of boredom. Nor will I have to endure where I feel like a moron, having to guess the meaning of words based on the things that are used to write it. Extra breaks, during which I will do nothing productive, beckon! They call to me, like the desert to the rain. I await my opportunity to bask in the warmth of their blissfulness. Ecstasy is now. Alright! Woohoo yay awesome.

On the day we received our results, I felt like a bit of an idiot to be honest. All around me were people who were sobbing, with tears streaming down their faces, because they had failed to achieve an A grade. And there I was, smiling to myself, wanting to jump about, after I had gotten a not-really-that-good result. Yet I am satisfied, because I know the limit of my abilities, and there is no chance I could get an A.

But on the other hand, there were people who had obtained an S grade, which really can't be considered a pass at all, and they were far more happy than me.

Different level of expectations I guess.

2008-02-24T21:32:00.003+08:00

Valentine's Day, Orientation 2 have passed. Cheeky grins and the tinkle of merry laughter fade from my consciousness.

Term exams are fast approaching.

I'm gonna pretend that I'm busy studying.

But I lie, lie, lie to myself.

Hoping for the wakeup call that I so desperately need.

Enjoying (while it lasts) the illusion of the importance of my puny, miniscule, insignificant life.

CNY CNY CNY

2008-02-10T21:18:00.000+08:00

Yet another Chinese New Year has gone by. I've penned down my general thoughts regarding this 15-day-long new year day last year. Go take a look.

Man I can be such a bastard.

Anyway, let me just leave you with a few recollections regarding my journey into this hopefully prosperous year of the rat. (You know how they always wish you good fortune and blessings and prosperity and yadda-yadda yabadabadoo every year? So that means we're supposed to keep getting luckier and richer and cleverer and better in every way every year? Now that's just bullshit.)

Chinese New Year is held in celebration of the return of the 2 noble deities, namely King Bah Kwa Emperor of all things Meat, and His Highness, the Grand Pineapple Tart. They bring along with them countless lesser deities, such as Captain Keropok, the Honourable Orange brothers, as well as Lord Melon Seed, among many others. We, as their noble subjects, celebrate their return by, well, basically just eating them all up. We gouge ourselves. Seriously.

Every year, friends and relatives give us piles and piles of these goodies. There are put on a nice table, that is (unfortunately) very accessible for me. So what happens is that I just stand at the table and eat and eat and eat and eat. Commercial break? Eat. Walking past for no apparent reason? Eat. Going to the toilet? Wash hands then eat. My grandma even had to bright idea of cutting the bah kwa into tiny bite-sized portions, to make it even easier for me to put into my mouth. You know usually when you have to eat a big square greasy piece of meat you feel a bit overwhelmed? Not when that same piece of meat is cut up into a few smaller slices. You can polish off 10 without breaking a sweat.

Then there's the reunion dinner. My gosh. Abalone, sea cucumbers, scallops, crab, shark's fin(Oh no here comes the environmentalists.), and pretty much everything else that you imagine would cost a lot of money. It all went onto my plate. I doubt I'll ever eat anything that rich again, that is, until the year of the Cow/Ox/Buffalo comes.

I fear what the weighing scale will reveal to me.

Every year, there will be quite a large party at my house. The entire family is roped into preparations. I want to talk about this, but this really does deserve its own post. Since most of the people who are invited are about, on average, 40 years older than me, and really have no interest in learning more about my life (the feeling is mutual) I decided to invite a few of my friends to come over. It was really, simple put, an awesome deal for them. They come over to my house, eat a very large quantity of the freaking delicious food, which I helped to prepare, then go on to take money from the various married people handing them out to all the kids. I'm not even sure if the old people know that they aren't part of the family at all. Not that I'm bitter or anything.

Going to someone's house, eating their food, and getting paid to do so? That sounds like something I would want to do for a job. Like, EVERYDAY.

Many people get stressed during Chinese New Year, just as they do during Christmas time. There's cleaning to be done, the house must be swept, old things thrown out, decorations to be put up. Those who are married must part with their money, giving it away to little brats who should be kept on leashes and fed only bread and water. Relatives that you've neglected for an entire year suddenly pop up at your door, and you must entertain that cousin you've always considered to be a bit of a freak. Food must be meticulously prepared, to ruin a meal at this sort of time would be catastrophic. It can all be quite overwhelming.

But to me, Chinese New Year is a time during which it is expected of you to indulge in excesses. You eat too much, you drink too much (for those who are of legal age), you buy lots of new clothes, you gamble all your money away, you make merry, and for the little kids, you collect lots of money. It's a time to have fun, to celebrate, to enjoy life.

And that's just the way I like it.

Happy Chinese New Year.

May you be showered with blessings. (Ugh.)

Shamelss Self-Promotion

2008-02-03T20:59:00.000+08:00

This applies only to students currently studying in ACJC. The rest of you can ignore this post.

You know, recently all the classes have been selling all sorts of fantastical goodies as a part of their fun-o-rama fund raising efforts. I've sampled many of their delicious and very exotic foods. I've experienced the refreshing fruitiness of frozen yogurt, tasted the donuts imported from Malaysia, and even enjoyed the taste of authetic Sweet Talk bubble tea.

They were all very good.

But I crave something else. I want classic. I want simple. I want delicious. I want the foods you ate as a kid. The kind you eat with your hands, and messily so. Forks and spoons are terribly overrated.

That's why 2SB3 is selling homemade cookies, cupcakes, jelly, and hot/cold chocolate tomorrow. Satisfy those cravings. You know what you want.

Only for tomorrow and tuesday.

Things I've Realised: Self-Interest

2008-01-27T21:39:00.000+08:00

There are people in ACJC who don't clear their plates away from the canteen tables after they have finished their meals.

Other than showing off their laziness and utter lack of responsibility it also reveals something far more interesting.

These people are dumb.

When you leave plates with unfinished food out on the tables, it will attract all the wild untamed creatures that inhabit ACJC, such as pigeons, rats or even cockroaches. Do you want to be enjoying your lunch amidst bird droppings? Or perhaps to stare at the decaying remains of an insect while you dine? Maybe even watching a rodent scuttle by your plate of food?

I thought not.

Clear your plates away. The cleaners won't always be there for you. Not like it's very difficult to do in the first place.

Orientation 2008

2008-01-13T15:57:00.000+08:00

[Yes, I know I posted this about 3 weeks late.]

Last year I picked up an OGL form. My friends questioned my intentions. They said hurtful hurtful things to me when I told them of what I'd done. Things like like "Why do you wanna become an OGL? You hate people." or "What the hell is wrong with you?" or "HAHAHAHAHA! Don't joke la."

Even I questioned my own intentions. Most of my friends were honestly surprised when they found out. What was the reason I wanted to become an OGL? To foster AC spirit? To help the new students make friends and get acquainted with the school? To test myself, and see just what I'm capable of doing? Or was it to miss the first week of lessons during school? I didn't know. I picked up a form anyway.

So there was this interview. They asked me lots of questions. We talked about pokemon. It was cool. One of the interviewers would later become something like a friend. Here we are.

She didn't remember interviewing me at the time.

We had a conversation about it.

"There was this question, 'What would you do if the sky fell down', and I answered 'Lie down. Because very pain.' Do you remember?"
"OH! So you were that idiot!"

Anyway, I made it. So I met up with my fellow OGLS. Here they are.
Amanda Feng

Nicole Lim

Amanda looks anorexic. Nicole not so much. They both love to shop.

So I met my OG on the first day of school. It was pretty miserable. Last year's OGL's had warned us, that the first few minutes are the worst. No one ever talks, and they all just sit in a circle, maintaining a polite yet awkward silence. Many an OGL had been driven to insanity by this evil phenomenon. Some OGLS cry, others feel a damning sense of despair, or even cheer more loudly because they feel sad. That's what someone told me.

So the first few minutes were very discouraging, but we persevered! We led them around playing games, told them insider information about ACJC, gave them a tour of the school, bonded, did stupid things, told jokes, laughed, and eventually, we got along pretty well.

Daimyo
This was the name of my OG. It means "lord" in Japanese. I wrote a pretty good description for it, pity it didn't get printed. Here: Damiyo are the feudal lords that reign over the vast provinces of Kyojin. Trained in the various noble arts, from swordplay, to sushi-making, and even flower arrangement, these virtuous rulers have brought centuries of peace, nourishment, and artistic expression to the inhabitants of their mountainous realms.

Games
We played many many games. Most of them were fun, many of them were gross. They all had dumb storylines. For example, some gibberish about extracting juice from poisoned fruits were fed to us, to justify the game which was to squish rotting fruits with our butts. And this storyline about the hypnotic tunes and a dragon and an egg and something or another meant that we had to play musical chairs with gross sticky starch. That was fun.

Mass Dance
As an OGL, one of my tasks was to teach them the mass dance. Unfortunately, I suck at dancing, and furthermore, the dance was terribly difficult. I remember during my orientation, the dance was quite manageable, in the sense that I had time to think about what the next moves were supposed to be. This years dance wasn't quite the same. The moves proceed quickly from one another, until I'm completely lost.

My OG kids weren't particularly kind to me either. When I'm teaching them the dance, they start laughing halfway, I get distracted, and I forget the moves. Idiots. Yet we somehow managed (thankfully) to get them to reproduce some pathetic attempt at the dance moves. Our job was done.

Saikang
Some may expect that being an OGL is quite glamorous. Not quite. Sure, we don't have to attend lessons, but we still have to work pretty hard. We had to come to school early-er in the mornings, have briefings, prepare everything. During the day, even if we're dead tired, we still have to put on our game faces, and cheer and lead. It was pretty stressful too, having to find games for the OG to play, and to keep them entertained. Then there was the cleanup. After all the J1s have gone home, the OGLs have to stay behind, and ensure the cleanliness of the school. We picked up litter, washed the floors, returned things to their original places, and even washed toilets. It was awesome. Then we would go home and collapse.

OG Outing (Camwhorage To The MAXXXXXZZZ)
On the final day of Orientation, it was time for us to travel beyond the hallowed gates of our school, out of our beloved sanctuary. We delved into the unknown, the wild, the untamed lands of Singapore, finding solace in our packs, marked by the same articles of clothing we wore. If any of us were to be separated, it would be simple for us to find our way back to the protection of the herd.

Basically, we were going to Marina Square, and we all wore the same Orientation t-shirts.

I discovered that taking charge of a group of 20 was no easy task. In addition to ensuring that no one was left behind, we had to make sure that everyone was agreeable with the place for lunch, taking into account everyone's opinions etc etc. Walking around in such a huge group is also terribly embarrassing. Not only are we loud, we also take up huge amounts of space, and annoy every single other person.

Finally, we settled on Cafe Cartel at Marina Square, which was blissfully empty, until we came in, and caused a massive ruckus. That was when the camwhoring began. I shall elaborate with the pictures.

[Notice the same girl appears in all the pictures above. YES CANIDA I'M TALKING ABOUT YOU]

[Contemplating the meaning of life]

[What's with that face?]

[Seeking out unglam-ness wherever it may lurk]

[Scandal!]

[Group Photo!]

Campfire
The campfire was held right after the OG Outing. Unfortunately it began to rain SO INCREDIBLY HEAVY LIKE 1 HOUR BEFORE THE CAMPFIRE. It then stopped 5 minutes before the campfire was supposed to start. The ground was wet. The campfire was shifted into the hall. The hall is made up of a lot of wood, so we had a campfire-less campfire. But there was air-con though. An acceptable trade. It was pretty good, if I remember correctly. Some unlucky fools were nominated to go on stage, there were performances by AC Dance and ACSian Theatre, and some weird campfire games.

We whored ourselves (camera-ly) some more while waiting for it to start.

[Evil]

[Scandal!]

[This is just wrong]

[Gross]

[This is the most unglam photo in the entire universe]

From left to right, emo, wut's dat!, itchy nose, stoned, half a face.

Finally, it was time for the Mass Dance. We did it many, many, many times. When the J1s got tired of dancing, they all joined up and formed massive trains of sweaty, sticky, human bodies, and ran around the hall. They were all wearing the same t-shirts. It was like a prison musical. I could clearly and plainly the joy and delight on all their faces. It was at this moment, that I felt this overwhelming sense of satisfaction. I was glad I chose to be an OGL. All the extra work, all the late nights, the stress, the tiredness. Seeing those gleeful faces, made it all worth my while.

More CAMPwhoring. HAHAHA.

I was a part of Orientation 2008, and it was fantastic.

Thank you to all of Daimyo, Alex(Skinny), Alex(White), Alicia, Andrea, Canida, Darrell, Dolly, Jared, Jiayi, Kenny, Madelene, Marcus, Natalie, Peixuan, Xiaojun, Yishi, Vinesh. Not forgetting my fellow OGLs, Amanda and Nicole. Orientation was an amazing experience, and you were all a major part of it.

Apparently, I Have Been Tagged.

2008-01-06T22:27:00.000+08:00

I shall indulge Meryl in her childish little activity. Too tired to think of anything else to write about. Shall write about Orientation soon. With Pictures.

Instructions:
1. Do the following WITHOUT complaint.
2. Choose 5 people to do this after you completed yours.
3. Leave a tag on the person's tagboard to say he/she have been tagged.
4. Start your post with; I have been tagged!

Favourites
Favourite Color: Who cares?
Favourite Food: Point-point rice
Favourite Movie: Superbad?
Favourite Sport: Soccer
Favourite Day of the Week: Sunday Mornings
Favourite Season: Winter
Favourite Ice Cream: The kind that is cold.

Currents
Current Mood: Relaxed
Current Clothes: Wouldn't you like to know?
Current Desktop: What does this mean?
Current Time: 10:37p.m.
Current Surroundings: Home
Current Annoyances: This thing.
Current Thoughts: Why am I so awesome?

Firsts
First Best Friend: Can't remember his name.
First Crush: Margaret Thatcher
First Movie: Power Rangers?

First Lie: I don't lie.
First Music: Michael Learns To Rock

Lasts
Last Drink: Water.
Last Car Ride: Do you honestly care?
Last Crush: Hilary Clinton
Last Phone Call: Home
Last CD Played: Jamie Scott and The Town, Park Bench Theories

Have you evers?
Have you ever dated one of your best friend: I came from a boy's school.
Have you ever broken the law : I was walking around in a group of 20 yesterday. Gasp!
Have you ever been arrested?: No
Have you ever been on TV: No, but I've been in the papers. The picture was of an MP, and I was in the background.
Have you ever kissed someone you don't know: No.

Random 5 things you are good at: Breathing, walking, eating, sleeping, talking.

4 things you've done today: Wake up, watch tv, eat pulled noodles, write this crap.

3 things you can hear right now: Music. Fan. Lights.

5 People to tag: No one! I refuse to follow this rule! I am the bad boy of blogging.

The New Year Is Here

2007-12-31T14:00:00.000+08:00

What would be able to succinctly describe my feelings regarding the new year?

Perhaps some pictures?

Hmm... Let me see what I can find. Ahh. Here they are.

Happy New Year, sumbitches! RAHHH!

WOOHOO! Yeah baby! Rock on!

While people are out partying and counting backwards tonight, I shall be at home relaxing, awaiting the dawn of a new day.

I'm A Moron!

2007-12-27T22:31:00.000+08:00

No matter what the length of the school holiday may be, students will always leave their homework till the very very very VERY end.

It's as if we have this idea in our minds. "Consequences be damned! I'm going to sit here and vegetate, doing nothing at all, even though I'm bored out of my mind and could use this time constructively to do work that I'm not very sure about, brushing up on previous topics, while at the same time learning new ones! FREEDOMMMMM! RAHHHHH!"

Then the day before school reopens, they find themselves rifling through knee-deep piles of paper that have have been covered with a fine layer of dust formed over the 2 months of neglect. At this point, they curse and swear, berating their own foolishness. They raise clenched fists to the sky, knuckles bone-white, nails piercing their own flesh, vowing, to never again, go through this torment and anguish. The following holiday, they promise, will be different.

But they know it will not be so.

Because they are dumb.

A Show Of Gratitude

2007-12-27T18:45:00.000+08:00

Thanks Selena for your gay pink sparkly Christmas card.

It arrived two days late. Either that or it arrived 363 days early. Or is that 364? Leap Year.

Oh, you have a weird signature.

Cutting It A Bit Close

2007-12-25T22:52:00.000+08:00

I still have an about an hour, so...

Merry Christmas.

It's not very often that you have an excuse to overeat, over-drink, over-indulge, and over-everythingelse. Enjoy it while it lasts.

Perhaps you would like to read what I said about Christmas last year?

I'm a bit of a spoiler.

The thoughts I shared then still apply today. I think. Perhaps I'd better go read them again. Things do change.

Yea, they still do.

Things I've Realised #1

2007-12-17T02:12:00.000+08:00

Because school isn't the only time that you gain knowledge.

I've learned things through observation of my surroundings, research to fulfill my own interest, or even just through living my life. I would consider some of this lessons to be more invaluable than quite a few things that I'm being taught in school.

Anyway, let us begin. We shall delve deep into the unknown, plunge our hands inside, squeeze, fondle, grope, caress, and finally, rip out whatever gem of knowledge we may find within the crevices of my cerebellum.

Here is the Fortune Cookie Of Truth you have uncovered.

Chinese women of my grandmother's generation all have the same hairstyle.

Have you been enlightened?

Growing Up

2007-12-03T22:24:00.000+08:00

Last week I participated in a CIP at some primary school. I was promised that I would be handsomely rewarded with some words printed on my CCA records, commending me for my supposed service to the community, and that the "job" itself would be quite easy.

It was not easy.

My main task was to facilitate a group of young students around while they played games and took part in various activities. That day, I learned that to facilitate means to lead, cheer on, resolve conflicts, entertain, scold, cajole, and serve. (As in really serve, not leadership serve. Whatever that means.)

Children are fascinating. Not in a complicated or disturbing sense. But in more of a... simple sense. They are such simple creatures. They can experience a myriad of emotions, ranging from anger, to joy, even sadness, and disappointment, all within a few moments of each other. Simple things can trigger their emotions. There was this boy, one moment he was crying, and the next moment his face was lit up by a genuine smile. They experienced delight in eating sandwiches. They seemed to be truly enthusiastic about this treasure hunt game they were playing, as if it were all that mattered. It just seemed to me that they were so set on doing whatever they wanted to, without a care in the world. All the kids were just bursting with energy. Even during break times, when all the facilitators were absolutely exhausted, the kids still brought out all manners of balls (don't think dirty) to their school courts and carried on playing.

I then looked at myself. Oh how things change in such a short time. Here I am, only 17 years young, and I've already lost many of my childhood qualities. I've become exceedingly cynical for someone who is still a teenager. I find myself playing mind games and trying to manipulate people without consciously setting out to do it. I don't find myself all that enthusiastic about anything that I do. I've forgotten how to savour all the simple pleasures in life. In my race to adulthood, I've forgotten to look back from whence I came.

It saddens me to know that those kids I led around that day would soon grow up to be like me. As I reach adulthood, middle-age, and finally my twilight years, I wonder what will become of me.

Sometimes when you help people out, you end up reaping so much more than you sow. All I gave was a dozen or so hours of my time, and I got back an important life lesson.

Oh, to be a kid again.

SJIMB 50th Investiture

2007-11-25T21:23:00.000+08:00

It was a wonderful day, a significant milestone in SJIMB's history. 50 years. That's a very long time. We're one of the oldest Military Bands in the whole of Singapore.

Investiture serves the purpose of passing down leadership from the outgoing seniors to the new batch of soon-to-be Secondary 4 students. It also serves the purpose of reuniting previous batches of bandsmen, who come back to see this very special parade.

Back in the day, which for me is only about a year ago, we would be very well behaved at Investiture. The band was respected for our discipline. However these days, as alumni, it was more likely that we would go back and make nuisances of ourselves. More on that later.

Investiture was pretty standard. The new leadership posts were given out. They marched pretty well. Sunset, a sombre tune, was played. The flags were lowered. The Drum Major threw his mace, and caught it in this... new freestyle method. We all cheered. The outgoing batch of leaders marched off the parade. It was, and has always been, an emotional moment.

As it was the 50th anniversary, celebrations were a bit out of the ordinary. The dinner was held at the Hall. Many of the old bandsmen, like really old ones, came back as well. There was air conditioning. Tables. Tablecloths. Cushioned chairs. Metal cutlery. Ceramic plates. For us, poor Josephians, it was like Heaven, Utopia, and the Shangri-La all combined together to form The Ultimate Paradise.

Unfortunately, The Ultimate Paradise came with a hefty price. $30. We would have to eat a lot to get our money's worth.

The dinner was pretty good. There was light entertainment, courtesy of the Junior Band, comprising of Sec 1 and 2 bandsmen. Considering most had only 1-2 year of experience, they were very good. Food was decent enough. I don't regret paying $30. There was also this fantastic centrepiece.

An ice sculpture with the SJIMB crest stuck in the middle.

We were all understandably fascinated by it. I heard it cost $600. Which means, if my math doesn't fail me, 20 people paid to eat it.

At the end of dinner, we had Band Toast. With our glasses held aloft, our voices rang in unison as we sang those 3 familiar songs, nostalgia in our hearts. As they always say, once a bandsman, always a bandsman. Some things never change.

Now on to the bullshit.

As the older people started to filter out of the hall, the younger alumni, myself included, could nt longer resist the temptation, and we all congregated around the Ice Sculpture, as Brother Michael noted, like some sort of religious cult. We proceeded to poke it and prod it and touch it. We marveled at how it was cold, wet, and hard, all at the very same time. Some of us were so overcome by amazement that we licked the Sacred Sculpture, consuming its very essence, feeling its awesome power tingling on the tip of our tongues. Others believed the Ice Sculpture to be a vessel bearing the power of SJIMB, and began to rub the face of it, in an attempt to release the crest trapped within its icy walls.

Despite our contradictory beliefs, we were all captivated by it. Remember I previously said that the alumni like to make nuisances of themselves? Driven by some unknown force, the younger alumni decided to carry around the sculpture, along with its base through the halls of our school. We cheered madly and wildly as we paraded around the second floor, and brought it to the classroom where the outgoing batch of Sec 4s were staying.

As it lay there, melty and drippy, our passion turned against our once revered block of ice. Why were we worshiping this fleeting idol. Our passion turned to rage, and we finally saw the Truth. Disillusioned, we wheeled our once sacred monument to the second floor foyer, right above the grass patch between the Sec 3 and Sec 4 blocks. Amidst roars and screams, we sent the sculpture tumbling down, down to its doom. It actually made a pretty deep indentation where it fell. And that, my friends, was how we left our mark on the school.

The sculpture shattered into many fragments, but our icelust was not satisfied. We carried it up again, this time to the third floor, and hurled it off the roof, again with an incredible sense of satisfaction. We were about to do it again, but one of the Sec 4s decided that we had crossed the line, and stood at the bottom, unwilling to move, like those PETA treehuggers protesting deforestation. No matter, the sculpture was destroyed, and we emerged triumphed.

It was at this time when an argument broke out with one of the teachers and the Sec 4s. With the mood no longer there, the alumni took this as our cue to leave. We went to the nearby Esso, our favourite hangout, and with drinks in hand (non-alcoholic of course, we had Muslims among us) we were on our way home. One of us wanted to smoke at the petrol station, but thankfully, we stopped him before he could light up, sending all of us to some other place in a huge flaming inferno.

One thing for sure, I definitely had fun. I always do, with my fellow bandsmen.

There are supposed to be more pictures. Where are you Shaun Ware?

What?

2007-11-20T22:20:00.000+08:00

Every passing day is an education in life.

Who can fathom what untold wonders one may unfold with the dawn of each passing day.

Today I learned that likeable and likable are two words that are identical, save for the little "e" that is sandwiched between the "k" and the "a". I discovered this after having a passionate debate with one of my English nerd friends about something I can't exactly recall at this moment in time.

So what is the lesson for today?

It is, simply put, that English is a dumb language.

Look At This Sincere And Heartfe...

2007-11-19T04:14:00.000+08:00

I'm lazy.

Click here.

Thanks guys. All of you. Every last one.

A Request

2007-11-11T23:14:00.000+08:00

It is not often that I ask favours of people, but this is one of those times. I guess I just don't enjoy the feeling of being indebted to someone else.

However, you may find that you would actually enjoy performing this favour for me.

After looking at some photos of myself that were taken recently, I have noticed that I have really terrible posture. I slouch like an 80 year old man. I need to change this.

So the favour is simple. If you ever see me in person, and you notice that I'm slouching, give me a light smack on the back and a friendly remark to inform me, so that I may correct myself.

When I say a "light smack", I do not mean "a kick to the butt" or "a resounding slap on the back" or even "a punch to the face". Doing so may result in me writhing in pain, or if the attack wasn't severe enough, angry retaliation.

Thank you.

By the way, I'm completely serious.

Back?

2007-11-10T21:20:00.000+08:00

I can't believe I've neglected this place for more than 2 weeks.

CCAAB camp is over. Chalet 1 is over. Chalet 2 is over. It seems my schedule is starting to free up.

My life is about to get pretty boring.

Perhaps I should start on my homework?

Hmm... No.

And So, The Year Draws To A Close...

2007-10-26T19:49:00.000+08:00

Today was the last day of school.

As I reminisce, experiencing the nostalgia wash over me, I remember. It was a year of new beginnings. Unfamiliar faces, foreign surroundings, a chance the start over. It was a pretty good year for me. Now it's time for me to take a break. Enjoy the holidays, savour the moments, relax a little.

I won't be back in school for quite a while. I'm gonna miss this place. In fact, come to think of it, the next time I will be back in school will be... in 3 days time. Taking an exam.

I don't think Singaporeans fully comprehend the meaning of the word "holiday".

A Deviant?

2007-10-21T16:58:00.000+08:00

One day our GP teacher posed this question to us.

"Would you say that you deviate or conform to the general rules of society?"

I think she asked us this because it had something to do with our GP Exam AQ question, for which I found out I had got 1 mark out of a maximum 8. By the way, Promo Exam results are back, and I'm promoted. So I guess I achieved everything that was required of me.

At first, I was quite certain that I was quite the deviant. I mean, just look at me. I read TIME magazine. I buy a lot of headphones. I type in proper sentences when I sms.

However, I realised that I was just fooling myself. A deviant? Definitely not. For all the things that I think make me unique, there are thousands, possibly millions of other people who do the exact same things. Then there the things that I do, that are considered social norms. I wear clothes. I speak two commonly used languages. I go to school. In the big scheme of things, I'm as unremarkable as can be.

True deviants are, simply put, a bunch of freaks. We're talking about rapists, murderers, those kinds of people. They partake in strange activities that would disgust most ordinary folk. They are the kinds of people that are locked up in mental asylums and prisons, for the protection of the rest of society.

I guess in the end, it's all about the voice of the people. Society wields an immense power. What is the weight of one opinion, in the face of vast opposition? If what you do is deemed to be inappropriate by the masses, they are gonna punish you.

I'm glad that I'm so normal.

AC Games 2007

2007-10-15T10:35:00.000+08:00

As it name suggests, during the two day span of AC Games, we go to school and play games.

AC Games is held during the blissful period between the end of exams, and the release of our results. At this point, we experience a whole jumble of positive feelings, from relief, to joy, happiness, and an innate desire to stop thinking and do stupid stupid things. Yet we experience none of the negative emotions as well, the Promo Exam results haven't come back to us, and our A Level exams are still (quite) comfortably far away.

AC Games consisted of 8 games, Bridge, Soccer, Floorball, Benchball (Modified Captain's Ball), Captain's Ball, Basketball, Ultimate Frisbee, and Stargate. I'm going to completely leave out all of them except Benchball and Stargate. That's mostly because everyone is familiar with all of them, and talking about them would be boring and unnecessary.

It's also because my class completely sucks at them. I don't really like to recall how we got beat down so badly.

Heck, we didn't even participate in a single Ultimate Frisbee game. And I was the captain. You could imagine my disappointment.

So... Benchball. Basically it's Captain's Ball except with a bench instead of a chair, 4 teams instead of 2, and whenever you score a point, another person gets onto the bench. Eventually, the team with zero players remaining on the court wins. For some reason, we were quite good at this game. We managed to get overall 2nd. Yay SB3.

Stargate. It's one of those games that you played while in primary school. It has been revived to satisfy the cravings of your deprived childhood. One team stands on a row of lines. The other will try to run through the 10 or so lines of defenders without getting tagged. The teams will then change sides. The one with the most people across wins.

Stargate is one of those games in which distracting your opponent is of utmost importance. Some of the girls would just keep screaming, and the defender would be too stunned to do anything but let them pass. It was quite a friendly game, if there was one attacker and one defender, you could just slow things down and have a nice chat. Other times, one would use questionable methods to get past defenders, such as saying things like "Hey baby, look into my eyes." And when they start laughing, just run past them. Heh.

I particularly enjoyed this game. That's probably because we got 1st overall. I don't know how that happened. It just did. We managed to beat an entire class that was made up of ruggers not from that class, and another very athletic class.

Overall I enjoyed AC Games. It was pretty fun, and a good time to relax with your class, share a few laughs, and just not think for a while. However, there were quite a few complaints about how AC Games was organised. Some were a little lost and confused about where to go for their games. Others didn't like the way the points were counted. There were even a few who thought it was quite boring, and a failure.

People, I think we need to lighten up. It's just a bunch of stupid games. It's for fun. That's all. True, on the first day things were pretty messy, with people not sure which court they must report to, but let's give the councilors a bit of a break. This is their first major event. It's not like they weren't trying. And on the second day, they were much better organised.

Then there was the rain. On the second day it rained in the morning. So games had to be postponed. Then it rained again. So games had to be postponed again. Many classes chose to stop playing and go home. Now this really isn't anyone's fault. None of us can control the weather. It was unfortunate, but that's how things are sometimes.

Those who found AC Games to be boring, I think you can only blame yourself. If you decided it was a waste of time, and chose not to take part in anything, of course it was boring. I had fun. Those people from my class that turned up had fun. Let's stop putting the blame on others, and start shouldering some of the responsibility.

It seems that we only know how to complain, complain, and complain.

Like The Devil, Except In A Skirt

2007-10-07T22:49:00.000+08:00

There are some things in this world that terrify me.

One of those things is/are (I really don't know which one I should use in this instance) women. More specifically, women who are walking.

When we walk, its perfectly natural for us to swing our arms. We all know this. It's a measure taken to keep balance while walking, so as to not fall flat on our faces and have our friends point and laugh at us. But then they would probably fall over too. Then we would get up and laugh at them. And we'd fall. Oh, what a vicious cycle.

Anyway, when you walk, you may notice that while you do swing your arms, the angle isn't very large. If you take vertical to be the normal, then I would say that your arm oscillates at no greater than 15 degrees both ways.

I sound like such a nerd. This is what studying Physics does to you. At least I have an entire year to forget what I've learned for my Promos exams, which are over, by the way. Yay for that.

Okay. However, if you make an attempt to consciously notice your arm swingage (not a word, I know) you would find that it would not follow the patterns it normally follows. This can be said of all subconscious activities. Next time, try to do the same for your breathing and blinking as well. You'll start to foam at the mouth. Or better yet, try to pinpoint the exact moment before you fall asleep.

Back to my point. So there are some women in this world, who for some inexplicable reason, have the tendency to swing their arms with obscenely large angles. I cannot draw any conclusions as to why, or even how they are able to do that. When I try to mimic them, I immediately feel tired and I can hear unsettling cracking noises along the length of my arm.

They have mad skillz. Respect.

I estimate their arm swinging oscillations to be about 40 to 45 degrees. Now you may be asking yourself, why is this moron talking about women swinging their arms while they're walking? And why is he afraid of them? What's wrong with this dude? Allow me to explain.

Whenever I find myself in a crowded place, I will always find this women in front of me. The one with the massive arm swing. She may be tall, short, skinny, or fat, but there she'd be. Whenever I see her on her backswing, my heart races, my pupils dilate, sweat pours through my pores, and I wail with terror (like in a manly way). Simply put, I'm afraid that her arm will hit me in my gentlemen's area. An area that I place a rather high value upon.

If she happens to be holding a heavy metal purse in her hand, the fear is multiplied several-fold.

So there it is, one of my deepest, darkest fears.

What? Did you expect me to have another intellectual debate?

Give me a break, I'm tired of thinking.

Another Cryptic Message?

2007-10-06T00:35:00.000+08:00

Things just keep getting better and better.

Why Are You Even Here?

2007-09-30T22:25:00.000+08:00

Last fake update for a long long time.

I promise.

Thankful

2007-09-23T10:02:00.000+08:00

Thank heavens for the rain.

It calms me, the murmur of water droplets easing the strain of my heart.

And thank the stars for the sporadic streaks of lightning that accompany it.

They force me to log off the computer, lest it explodes into splinters of flaming shrapnel from a massive surge of electricity.

Back to studying for stupid exams I go.

A Surprise

2007-09-16T02:27:00.001+08:00

Since when have I been this terrible at math?

But every cloud has a silver lining, no?

I'm happy the way things are turning out.

An Exercise In Self-Indulgence

2007-09-08T21:54:00.000+08:00

Based on all the self-initiated hype, one would expect ACJC's Open House to be the social event of the season. From what I'd heard, I conjured up images of the school overflowing with boys and girls, throngs of crowds at even the most secluded places, and other general instances of noise and excitement.

This was not to be.

Perhaps it is partially my fault. We were told to help the college advertise, by spreading word that ACJC was cool and that everyone should go and have a look-see. I didn't do that. To be honest, it was because I was lazy, AND because most of my friends are in my age group.

When you're 17, and you say your friends are in your age group, it means they are at the same level of education as you. I don't have that many younger friends, or friends who were retained last year and made to do their O Levels again.

Anyway, the preparations actually began the day before, the various CCAs were setting up their booths, tour guides were being trained, and signs were put up in all the walkways. Noticeboards which had been neglected for an entire year were cleaned up, made suitable for the viewing of the general public.

I was involved in the assembling of goody-bags. Why would I volunteer myself for such a cause? Why, CIP hours of course. There were quite a number of us who were enticed by the offer of satisfaction gained from community improvement, but we had to pack 1500 bags to achieve it.

It wasn't very difficult, but it was extremely tedious and dull work. I wonder how people can tolerate working in assembly lines. I guess money is a better incentive than CIP. Each one of the bags contained lots of random crap, in addition to a good amount of our sweat (Literally. Gross, I know.) and toil.

I have a newfound respect for those involved in the NDP.

On the actual day of Open House, I had three duties. The first was to be an usher. I was given a tag and made to tuck my t-shirt in. Essentially, I was a goody-bag dispenser. I was also an information counter. Once again, it was for CIP. My second duty was to demonstrate for the track and field showcase. I was afraid some secondary school thrower would come and completely humiliate me, but fortunately, it had rained rather heavily in the morning, and the field was flooded. My final duty was to sit at the track and field booth. I sat there for one hour. No one came to talk to me.

Open House seems, to me at least, to be quite a pointless exercise. First of all, I don't think that many people came. At least 1500 people came, because at the end of the day, all the goody bags were gone. However, the 1500 include parents and younger siblings, people from other JCs who were bored and had nothing better to do, and J2s who were also bored and had nothing better to do than come here dressed in their secondary school uniforms. Everywhere I went, I saw huge crowds of students wearing ACJC t-shirts. The performances (choir, chinese orchestra, band, etc.) gained the loudest applause and cheers from our own people.

I don't really see how much one can learn from visiting Open House. Unless one is interested in specialised ACJC programmes, such as the English Language subject that will be taught here in the future, there isn't very much to see or inquire about. The CCA booths don't really have much information for visitors. Students who want to apply through DSA have already done so. I can't imagine someone coming to a school just based on the fact that they would like to join a certain CCA. Everywhere I turned, I saw bored students sitting behind their booths, staring blankly into space. However, I think the guided tours were probably the most useful, giving people the chance to see what facilities our school has to offer.

Finally, it is difficult to get a good impression of what ACJC, let alone what a JC education, is even like in such a short timespan. After visiting the school, having some random guy give you a goody-bag, listening to the choir sing, and walking around the CCA booths for 10 minutes, honestly, how much can you actually learn? To be frank, the JCs are probably more alike than they are different, though I'm sure people who think ACJC is much better than some other JCs would be quick to disagree with me.

In the end, it was pretty much an exhibition that we put up for ourselves.

O Brave New World

2007-09-02T22:07:00.000+08:00

Some of you may find this post to be very dull.

I recently read Aldous Huxley's Brave New World.

I am not a Lit student. I read it voluntarily. Much to my literature-studying friend's surprise (wow this is a really complicated sentence), I found it interesting and very thought-provoking. I didn't exactly like it, but this is the sort of book that is, for the lack of a better expression, too screwed up for anyone to really like.

There are many ideas in this book (no wonder it was chosen as a literature text), but the one that spoke the most to me was the one regarding the conflict between happiness and truth.

Perhaps I should give a quick synopsis. The book is set in the distant future. People live in what appears to be a utopian society. They are all cared for, no one suffers from diseases, there are no wars, everyone is happy.

However, drastic steps have been taken in order to achieve this stability. People are given different ratings based on their intelligence levels, which were decided before birth by basically being given different amounts of nutrients. (Sort of like Primary School Streaming... TO THE EXTREME.) This way, everyone has their own place in society. Some are born roadsweepers, others destined for greatness.

Another measure taken to ensure that society doesn't collapse was to have everyone socially conditioned. Essentially, people are brainwashed into believing ideas that are beneficial to their society, such as solitude being bad, that everyone belongs to everyone, and class-specific lessons which ensured the separation of the various classes. You can't have an Alpha Plus mixing with an Epsilon Semi-Moron, can you? Strict censorship has also been put in place, and any ideas considered old, are deemed unfit for the general public. Religion is prohibited.

Despite all these restrictions, people are generally very happy. If they're feeling depressed, people are given soma, which is rather like marijuana in tablet form, which will make them feel happy and relaxed. They are allowed to have sex with as many partners as they can, in fact it is encouraged. (I know of some people who wouldn't mind that.) Those who have been condemned to do the worst jobs are glad with what they have been given, because it is all that they know. No one suffers.

However, many sacrifices have been made to achieve this happiness. It is almost as if humanity had been taken away from the humans. There is no such thing as passion or love, because these sort of feelings make us feel strongly about those around us, which lead to a sense of loss when they are taken from us. Indeed, we suffer for our love, and there is no more need for suffering. The people that live are happy, true, but what exactly is the point of their existence? Their lives have been virtually mapped out from the day they were born to the day they perish. To me it seems as though they exist purely for the sake of existing. There is no such thing as nobility or heroism. After all, in a perfect society, what need do the people have for heroes? There is no evil tyrant to overthrow. Happiness is never grand, but then again, everyone is happy. However, is it true happiness? Isn't it true that the bitterness of tears only makes the taste of joy that much sweeter?

This was the main argument between Mustapha Mond, the World Controller for Western Europe, and the Savage, who had only been thrust into the society recently. I found both arguments very compelling.

In the end, the Savage claimed the right to be unhappy, tried to escape from society, and ended up killing himself.

How much are you willing to sacrifice for happiness?

Bragging Rights

2007-08-26T22:58:00.000+08:00

This is a little something that I came up with a while ago. Some of you would have heard it before, but right now I can't think of anything else to write about that I can complete in 3 minutes. Here we go.

Guy: Hey dude. I haven't seen you in a while. How are things?

Dude: I drive a big red Mercedes.

Guy: Wow! You must be rich. What company do you work for?

Dude: SBS.

A Necessary Evil

2007-08-19T20:24:00.000+08:00

I've been told that it's about time I made this decision. Everyone around me has done it already. My parents are nagging me. I know that if I leave it too late, then I will regret my decision. I just have to deal with it. That's just how life is.

If some dude in his mid-30s stumbled upon my blog, he would think I was about to get married. But no, I'm still a kid, and marriage isn't really an issue at hand.

Funny how getting married and studying sound so alike.

I need my CCDE. If I don't I'm going to have to downgrade on of my subjects, and I would have wasted a year learning crap that isn't particularly useful.

I had a great weekend.

Feasting with SJI buddies. The crowds at Orchard were terrifying. The queues long. The 5 of us were hungry. We were also cheapskate. One of our us lived conveniently nearby. So we went to Cold Storage at 8pm, and bought grilled chickens, pork knuckles and a bottle of cordial. Dinner cost us $8 each. We feasted until we could feast no more. That night, we dined in hell. It was glorious.

As Ivan would have put it ever so succinctly, "Bomb sex man."

Lunch Movie and Dinner with Yeewen Chara and Bingjian. Lots of fun, nonsense, and laughter. Rush Hour 3, a dumb but a funny movie. We went to Taka, then Lido, Grand Cathay, to Wisma, back to Taka, and finally to Paragon.

Looks like I won't get to enjoy these sort of things for awhile. The exams beckon.

Why am I writing about my weekend? I remember sometime in the distant past I stated that I would not do so. Hmm.

National Education

2007-08-15T21:43:00.000+08:00

We had a National Education talk this morning.

It was great that the teachers scolded us for misbehaving even before the thingy began. If I remember correctly, we were told to be on our best behaviour. We were to appreciate everything that was being done for our sake.

However, if I remember correctly, none of the students ever requested for such... an act of kindness.

What I found hilarious (though unfortunate) was the girl who had to introduce the guest speaker, whose name I cannot recall. She had to wear the school No.1 uniform, which is, the blazer and tie and shoes and everything else. The girl had to put on all that crap just to stand behind a podium, which left only her head exposed, to talk for about 30 seconds.

Implementation of absolutely unnecessary formalities. There's nothing quite like it.

The guest speaker was some government representative, MP of someplace and he worked as the Secretary in some branch of our government. Pretty admirable stuff. He looked smart.

The topic for the day was Religion in Singapore. I found it quite surprising that they were willing to have an open dialogue regarding such a sensitive topic. As far as I can recall, the government doesn't really like to touch on this subject. However, it ended up being pretty much the same old stuff. Still, it's quite something, considering we're in Singapore.

Strange how someone can make terrorists and war and violence sound as dull as an instruction manual. That takes talent.

As usual, after the guy finished talking, we were allowed to ask have our say. There was something this one girl said that struck me as being quite blunt. This girl stated that some religions have the belief that "I'm right, everyone else is wrong", and that it was quite contradictory to Singapore's policy of accepting all the major religions.

Now, who said Singaporean students can't think?

But of course, the rest of us didn't understand what she was saying, and decided to laugh at her for a few moments, so as to hide our embarrassment and ignorance.

After the thing was over, the intro-girl was allowed to recite some standard message of thanks lasting about 30 seconds short to the guest, and we were allowed to leave.

At least intro-conclusion-girl was able to make good use of her formal attire.

A Gathering

2007-08-09T23:07:00.000+08:00

Meeting the Caveman by accident at Plaza Singapura.

Seeing Yuhao's constant drowsy look.

Getting cheated by Janan in card games.

Threatening to expose ZL's dirty little secret.

Marveling at the ODACers' athleticism.

Watching Malay Dog Javier destroy the computer with but a mere touch.

Listening to China Whore WG trying to play guitar.

Realizing how tall my stupid friends are.

Swimming at 1 in the morning.

Wrestling against Ivan.

Watching The Simpsons Movie at 2am.

Lazing around in a tangled heap of bodies.

There's nothing quite like 206 to chase the emo-blues away.

This Was Not Planned

2007-08-03T23:16:00.000+08:00

Yeewen bit me on the arm today.

Actually I am partially responsible for this strange occurrence. It was after Chemistry class. I don't remember why, but I dared her to bite me.

I was shoving my arm into her face, taunting her "Come on! You dare? YOU DARE?", and the next thing I knew, she chomped down on the piece of flesh that I waved most enthusiastically in front of her.

Unfortunately, the bite impression on my arm has disappeared, so I can't sue her for 2 million dollars worth of emotional trauma. I think her saliva is corrosive as well, because later that day I found itchy red welts all over my forearm.

I didn't think she'd do it.

I have weird friends.

Self-Financed Lessons In Life

2007-08-01T18:29:00.000+08:00

I lost 40 dollars today.

Actually it wasn't so much lost as it was having a stranger reach into my bag and rifle about my things and take it out of my wallet.

Perhaps the strangest part about this entire ordeal was how I discovered that I was a victim of theft. It was after training, I was in the changing room, wearing back my school uniform. Suddenly my phone rang, and my friend said to me:

"Check your wallet."

I was filled with dread. I thought she was threatening me. Or that it was some sort of premonition, that I would find a severed finger or an eyeball inside my wallet. I mean, how many of you have ever had someone call you and ask you to check your wallet? I then opened it cautiously, and sighed with relief that there were no human bits to be seen. Unfortunately, my money was also nowhere to be seen.

I think it is quite amusing that I was robbed in ACJC.

I expected myself to be really angry. I waited for my subconscious to take over and begin uttering a string of expletives. However, nothing happened. I waited a little longer. Still nothing happened. I did not have any reaction at all.

My only response could be described as... underwhelming.

"I've been robbed. Oh, okay. Time to go home now."

I found this to be quite disturbing. Why wasn't I angry?

It was quite a sizable sum of money for a student with no source of income. That sort of money would have lasted me more than 2 weeks if I didn't splurge. I think I felt this nonchalance because of the way I've been brought up. Money has never really been an issue to me. My parents have provided me with more than enough. Maybe I don't see its value? Perhaps one day when I raise my own children and one of them loses 40 of my hard earned dollars then I'll feel the heartache.

I think it's also my attitude. I knew, when I found out my cash was gone, that there was nothing I could do. Tell a teacher? That would a waste of both our time. Complain? Get angry? Bitch? How would that help? Next time I'll just be a little more careful. It was, after all, partially my fault.

I know that I could never live with myself if I ever did this sort of thing, unless of course, it was absolutely necessary. If I had a starving baby sister to feed, I wouldn't feel that guilty for giving her a chance to live. But I really doubt anyone in ACJC is in that sort of situation. All I can do is hope that the person's conscience eats into him. I know that is what would happen to me.

Perhaps I've just learned to look on the bright side of life. I mean, at least the thief was thoughtful enough to leave my coins inside, so that in the case of my EZ-Link card running out of money, I would still be able to get home. This is the sort of consideration I would like to see in the future generation of Singaporean thieves.

Just... Leave Me Be...

2007-07-29T22:06:00.000+08:00

What is this feeling that has overcome me? I feel tired, without the slightest flicker of hope. Life seems pointless. An overwhelming lethargy has blanketed my soul. I have no desire to pursue what I once sought. Nothing would gladden me more than to just lie here, in the dark stillness, letting my body waste away. As these emotions envelopes me, I wonder.

What could possibly have brought this upon me? Was it the hauntings of my regrets? The sad remembrance of previous mistakes? The Or was it... No. It couldn't be.

I had vowed, that I would never allow myself to suffer such a fate. I had fought all my life to resist it. My sweat, my toil, was it all for naught? As I lay here, I shed a single tear for what I've become. Perhaps, this was how it was meant to be. I laughed, a sad, quite laugh. What an ironic twist of fate. Soon, I would become em...

Wait a minute. Now I know what this feeling is. It's hunger. Idiot.

So, I had a sandwich. All is well.

Renaissance Gold

2007-07-22T02:04:00.000+08:00

It was a wonderful experience.

This year's Renaissance was a bit of a last minute thing. For one thing, we only managed to practice in those big concert hall type places once before the actual thing. That happened on the actual concert day itself. Musicians will tell you know one has to get used to the sound, and adapt to the high celling of the performance venue. There was no full rehearsal of the entire program.

This was my first year playing as a member of an Alumni band. All who came back, myself included, came back for the same reasons, out of our desire to entertain the crowd, and because of our passion for music. There were no perks for the alumni. None at all. We had to go back to SJI for practices at night. No food was provided for us, not even on the concert day. Getting fed was our problem, not the school's.

The concert was held at NUS University Cultural Centre. They were very strict regarding access to the venue for practice. They actually gave us passes.

Apparently, I'm an artiste.

I felt ever so important.

Anyway, after a bit of practicing, and changing into our attire, we were prepared. The main band went up first, after all, it was SJIMB's concert. They played very well. I remember they were practicing while the Alumni were in the dressing rooms, enjoying card games, while an endless string of vulgarities spewed forth. (Good times.) The sound coming from the hall was piped in through speakers, and I actually thought I was listening to the radio. Honestly.

However, there was one thing that pissed of quite a lot of people. Secondary 1 and 2 students. They were incredibly rude throughout the concert, being immature, making "shh-shh" noises every 5 seconds, talking, and generally making a nuisance of themselves. I remember the drum section was performing this clapping song, and those tactless children started clapping in the middle, much to the annoyance of many. Next time, I think the teachers ought to not force them to come. They don't want to be there, we don't want them there disturbing our concert. It's not like SJIMB ever has any trouble selling tickets.

Several of my friends did come to support me.

Though they weren't very nice to me after the concert.

Anyway, after a while, it was time for the Alumni to go on stage. We weren't warmed up, we weren't properly prepared, but we followed the words of our conductor, Mr. Lim: "Just play la." To be perfectly honest, the Alumni band is probably weaker than the main band. There are a few outstanding players, some have even gone on to become professionals. However, most of the players are like me, people who no longer play any instrument on a regular basis. Despite this fact, we gave it our all, and our energy and passion carried us through. Our music was greeted with great applause, and the roar of the crowd after the last song brought contentment to all our hearts. We set out to entertain, and that we did, and did well.

Sorry I wasn't able to get any pictures of the alumni band playing. I couldn't because I was playing my trombone. A thousand apologies.

After we finished playing, the Alumni from my batch, those who study in the same level as me, had a camwhoring session. I shall let the pictures speak for themselves.

Looking back, I once again realise how much SJIMB means to me. My skill as a trombone player may wane, the music that I learned by heart may be forgotten, and my ability to understand marching commands may decline, but my friends from SJIMB will always be a part of me.

The Joys Of Physics Practical

2007-07-15T16:47:00.000+08:00

It appears that my attempts satirical humour aren't always as successful as I'd imagined them to be. I had envisioned that people who had read the most recent post would have tears rolling down their cheek, instead I got reactions that can be classified as puzzlement. No matter. Life is, after all, a learning process.

Anyway, today's post is going to be about school. Though it is typically dull, there are moments (though few and far between) of amusement to be had during those long dreary hours. On Friday, those moments were during our Physics practical lesson. It however, began quite unremarkably. Our teacher was talking about uncertainty and errors and graphs and so on.

After his briefing, we would usually proceed to carry out the day's practical experiments,
which were usually involved staring at a pendulum or playing with marbles. Physics practicals are usually quite boring compared to those of the other sciences. In Chemistry, you get to play with dangerous chemicals and fire. That's always quite a thrill. In Biology, you get to cut up dead animals, which does seem quite macabre at times, but very interesting. I recall being put off by prawns for a period after cutting one up and seeing the vein of gross stuff located along the entire length of the its body. In biology you sometimes even get snacks. Throwing away kiwifruits that we had examined just wasn't in our nature.

Back to the Physics practical. We were learning about circular motion, which is exactly what it sounds like, things spinning in circles. Very scientific. So our experiments involved just that, spinning a weight round and round. Not very clever.

This practical just wasn't meant to be carried out. First of all, the labs aren't that big. So twirling around objects isn't the best thing to do. Many of us got hit, accidentally of course, by our friends' experiments. Some people got hit by their own experiments. Second, the fans in the labs were turned on, and with all of us whirling WEAPONS OF DEATH, there was a huge risk that some enthusiastic fellow would get his experiment tangled in the fans, and inadvertently create the ULTIMATE WEAPON OF DESTRUCTION. The mere thought of such an unintended cataclysmic occurrence sends shudders down my spines. Finally, some of us with more active imaginations believed ourselves to be Indiana Jones, cowboys, or some other heroic character, and took it upon ourselves to create situations where our experiments would help us escape, and bring justice to all who opposed us.

After a while, we were brought back to Earth by our teacher's reminders that we had to hand up our work on Monday.

Oh, the joys of Physics practical.

Them and N'US

2007-07-13T21:04:00.000+08:00

They tell you to cast away your dreams. Scoffing at you, they proclaim them to be the stuff of madmen, the fantasies of a child's mind, unrealistic, unattainable, unfortunate.

We do that too.

They inculcate in you a deep loathing for formal education, through their uncreative teaching techniques, and own lack of interest in their material.

We do that too.

They remind you of your shortcomings, by constantly surrounding you with people better than you in every conceivable way, just for the fun of it.

We do that too.

So what's the difference between them N'US?

They know how to use proper English.

NUS, offering you the best of mediocre education since a long time ago.

SJI 155th Anniversary Parade

2007-07-08T11:19:00.000+08:00

SJI's Anniversary Parade (AP) can be aptly described as "The First Half Of The National Day Parade But On A Much Smaller Scale In A Less Grand Location With Kids Instead Of Soldiers". Yes. Former Uniform Group Members, such as myself, have mixed feelings regarding this considerably important event in the SJI school calendar.

On one hand, we have been through this crap many times before, and can recall how we had to stand in the blistering mid-afternoon sun wearing thick leather boots carrying guns and musical instruments and sticks and things, during the many practices, and during the actual event. Whilst all this was going on, some terribly uninteresting event would be happening at the front, and we would all be having malicious thoughts, wanting to just... as I recall someone muttering through gritted teeth "to go in front and beat the shit out of that guy and make him shut the **** up". Thank god those NCC boys didn't have bullets in their guns, or else many APs would have ended in tragedy.

On the other hand, we, who had now graduated, didn't have to put up with such nonsense anymore, and could sit in the stands at spectators, and laugh (whilst pointing of course) at those poor children standing unwillingly out on the field in their smart uniforms. As you can imagine, quite a number of Old Boys came back.

This year's AP was especially special for me, a former Bandsman. It was the SJI Military Band's 50th Anniversary. This makes SJIMB it one of the oldest surviving Military Bands in Singapore today.

So anyway, AP started. The band started the parade, marching on to the field, playing our signature-tunes. This year they did some things a little differently. They carried out several new formations, which was pretty interesting to see. This year's the band's contingent was especially huge, i think at least a 100-odd bandsmen were marching. After the formations were completed, the other Uniformed Groups marched onto the field.

At this point, I recalled how boring AP was. So a few friends and I decided to proceed to the canteen for an unscheduled break, and we helped ourselves to the cold drinks that were provided. After a while we went back.

I do not wish to remember all the boring details, so I'll just elaborate about the more interesting aspects of AP.

One thing that has been consistent over the years is that the Narrator guy will read some sort of script. And for as long as I can remember, the script is always the same.

Halfway through the band's march in, two army helicopters flew over on the horizon, carrying a massive Singaporean flag. People started cheering wildly when they saw it. Whether or not this was planned, we will never know.

One of the more enjoyable things about AP is watching all the little children on the field who succumb to the effects of the sun beating down on their heads.They would either squat down (which I never quite understood) or begin to sway back and forth as if grooving to the silent beats of some New-Age music. As if on cue, two St. John's Ambulance Brigade boys would scamper onto the field, and carry the tired little boy off the field. There are several variations. Sometimes the tired boy would resist in an almost drunkard fashion, weaving and swaying while pushing away the SJAB boys. Others would stumble off dramatically, as if they had just spent a week without water in the Gobi desert, which of course, they didn't. The most casualties came from NCC Air, which was not unexpected. Year after year, they have been putting up solid consistent performances.

This year was especially memorable as one of the Flag-Bearers, who are some of the most important people, had to be taken off the field. Hilarity ensued when the person standing behind the flag bearer was volunteered to carry the flag. Even from my seat, I could see his look of disbelief. The flag-bearer's belt/sash was unceremoniously forced upon him, as was the flag bearer's hat. The flag was thrust into his hands, and he was forced to deal with this unconventional situation on his own. As usual, none of the bandsmen had to be escorted off the parade.

Halfway through the parade, a giant brown dog suddenly appeared, and ran onto the field. We thought the German neighbour had had enough, and finally snapped, and trained his massive dog to EAT SOME UNFORTUNATE CHILD, or at least take a piss on his leg. But it was not to be, and some non-white person went out to drag the animal back to the spectator stands.

This was SJIMB's 50th anniversary, so they got the first ever Drum Major to come to the parade, which was quite special. He presented a new gold mace to the band, which looked very nice.

Oh yes, the NCC leader guy would go hang out in the air-conditioned school office and drink cold drinks while his juniors were outside tolerating the ferocious heat.

After the change of command, the flags were lowered, and the current batch of leaders stepped down, allowing the next batch of leaders to take over. Parade was then dismissed. Many of the UGO members seemed extremely delighted, immediately taking off their caps and tossing them into the air, slapping each other on the backs, their faces alight with smiles. But there was one contingent, only one, that remained perfectly still at the end of parade.

The bandsmen were still. Not one of them moved a muscle. The current batch of Sec 4s then left the contingent, and formed a new group. The new Drum Major then took control, and led the band for the first time, marching past the saluting Sec 4s.

Band Toast was held next. All the bandsmen gathered at the canteen steps, along with the sizable number of alumni that were present. There we sung our three traditional songs, that have been passed down from many years ago. Our voices echoed loudly, all in the canteen heard us, but we didn't care, we weren't performing for them. The band was then finally dismissed at the parade square.

Once a bandsman, always a bandsman.

Swimming

2007-07-02T21:20:00.000+08:00

Sometimes I ponder about meaningless things.

Case in point: Swimming

I used to enjoy swimming. I don't anymore. Because I did something stupid. I sat down, and I thunk. (I didn't even know this was a proper word. Other than being a form of "think", it is also, and I quote, "an abrupt, dull sound". I didn't know sound effects were considered to be actual words in the English language. Fascinating. If that's the case, then shouldn't things like "Zish" and "Piang" and "KabooOOooOOoom!" be considered words in the English language as well?) Anyway, I thunk hard, like really super hard. I had just went swimming, and after a few minutes, I just realised that swimming is the most disgusting physical activity that one can partake in.

Sorry if I'm gonna ruin swimming for you.

Human beings are living creatures. Therefore to survive, we must respire. Dissolved oxygen can be found in abundance in water, but since we are not fish, we cannot obtain it. As such, to breathe while swimming, we must come to the surface, and open our mouth to suck in air. Therein lies to problem. No matter how meticulous we try to be, when we breathe while swimming, some water will go in our mouths, and some will go out. So, to put it simply, when you go swimming, you are swimming in the saliva of 500 people. When you breathe in while swimming, you are swallowing 500 peoples' saliva.

While swimming, every single part of a person's body is in contact with the water. So basically, while swimming, your body is being exposed to water that has been tainted with the unholy touch of other people's feet, noses, armpits, and other body parts. I do not wish to go into further detail.

Finally, kids use swimming pools. Kids are stupid. They do stupid things. Sometimes I wonder what it is that clouds their judgment. I doubt it is their intention, but they do horrendous things. Kids piss in the pool. Seriously. I know of people, who shall remain unnamed, that have done so. They did it because "the toilet was far". However, this desecration of public facilities is not a one-time event, it is an ongoing affair. Therefore, whenever I see kids from Fairfield Methodist Primary School splashing around in ACJC's pool, I cringe.

So the next time, on a hot July's day, when the sun is beating ferociously on your backs, and you think longing of the cool water lapping against the side of the pool, it's crystal clear surface beckoning you to dive right in, recall what I've said. Try not to gag.

Pre-University Seminar 2007 (Part Five)

2007-06-19T15:14:00.001+08:00

It takes me a month to finish writing about an even that lasted for the week.

Project

Our Project was entitled "Singapore as a Global City". A very open-ended topic, and one that didn't make much sense. In the end, due to our lack of enthusiasm, unwillingness to think creatively, and utter indifference, we just decided to basically rephrase everything that was said at the URA, from the point of a foreigner living in Singapore, and how it is the greatest city in the entire world. There, Global City. Simple idea.

However, our execution was quite poor. There are 3 reasons. First of all, we didn't have enough laptops. Even though we had more than enough brains, with 20 people, only 5 people could work at a time. We needed the laptops. This is what happens when people embrace the use of technology. Secondly, we were told to use the software provided to us. However, the software was very lousy. It crashed all the time, was difficult to use, and didn't have very good results. So after a while, we just completely ignored it. The last reason, probably the most severe one, was that we were downright lazy. This is what happens when you have too much fun. While other groups were hard at work, we chatted, searched through Friendster, played silly games, watched movies (yes, we really did.), listened to music, played video games, and engaged in other unproductive activities. Sometimes we would all just go for unplanned hour long breaks. After we returned, we would continue goofing off.

[Doing "work"]

On the final day which we were allowed to do work, we rushed frantically. Actually, it was more probably during the last 2-3 hours that we put in any quantifiable effort. By this time, most groups were done, and we were left... not really scrambling, just working at a slightly elevated pace. I would say at 15% more that usual. So we finally handed in our project about 30 minutes after the deadline. We were glad it was done with. There were several problems with it, for example, one glaring mistake was that our "family" in our project started out with a father, mother, and baby. Halfway, a girl turns up. Minutes later, a boy appears. But at that late hour, we really didn't care.

[Tired and Emo]

10 out of the 30 projects were chosen to be showcased on the final day, to the Minister Of Education, I think, Mr. Thar... er... you know. That guy. Anyway, to our immense surprise and disbelief, our sub-par project wasn't selected! While we were celebrating our victory with roars of laughter, congratulatory handshakes and back-slapping all around, (No showcase meant not having to do any more work. Oh joy!) we noticed that some of the other groups didn't quite share our reaction after not being selected. We saw girls with tears streaming down their face, palms hiding their face, their bodies convulsing with every sob. My, some people really don't know how to appreciate life.

Istana Visit

One of the highlights of this year's Pre-U Sem (they would harp on it over and over) was that this year they included a visit to the Istana as part of the program. It had been taken out of the Pre-U Sem for over 10 years, but for some reason, they decided to revive this "tradition" in 2007. Apparently Pre-U Sem has a very rich history.

Anyway, we would get to meet the President and all that, so there were several security measures. They made us walk through metal detectors. I don't see teenagers as being much of a security threat or being hardened terrorists, but I guess it pays to be on the safe side.

So we went to the Istana. Those who have been in that area before would know that there is a huge empty space outside the gates. However, the space inside is even bigger. Much bigger. Passing through the gates, one would immediately notice how this place is kept in tip-top shape. The lawns are perfectly manicured, smooth and even. Ponds and fountains gurgling with water, cool to the touch in the warm afternoon heat. Trimmed bushes and shrubs, with contrasting bursts of colorful flowers. Gnarled trunks of age-old trees, their leafy branches offering respite from the sunlight. The further in we went, the more amazed we were. There was a golf course. A golf course in the heart of the city. Traveling up the long winding road, we reached the top of the hill, and finally caught a glimpse of the Istana itself. It was very grand. It offered to us glimpses of ages past, where Singapore was but a colony, and ruled by the British.

We then proceeded to the Lower Lawn, where we would get to meet all the people. However, there was some sort of mix-up, some miscommunication, which resulted in having all of us shoved back onto the buses and waiting in the parking lot for an hour. After a while, we were allowed to walk back up, and stand around in the place while waiting for the President to arrive. There were several high-ranked officials around, so SG7 quietly sneaked away into some hidden corner, hoping to avoid awkward small-talk. If there's one thing I really dislike, it is being forced to converse with someone whom you have no desire to get to know better. Then the President arrived. All 600 participants lined up single file, and the President made his way slowly around, greeting each person individually.

To be honest, I wasn't all that ecstatic to meet the President. I'm sure he's a good guy, but I just don't see us becoming best buddies. Can you imagine Deyong and Mr. Nathan relaxing on the veranda, having an afternoon chat, whilst sipping iced tea together? Neither can I. As it turned out, my lack of enthusiasm was very apt. My interaction (if you could call it that) lasted all of two seconds. Sad to say, that can be considered quite a lengthy conversation.

It went like this.
Mr. President: Hello.
Me: Hello.
Mr President: From ACS?
Me: Yes.

[Reenactment Of The Fated Meeting]

(That isn't President Nathan, by the way.)

I thought of doing something along the lines of "That's why my tie says ACS all over" and then giving him a cheery smile, but I thought the better of it.

So after he had greeted every one of us, it was time to eat. So that's what we did. SG7 completely forgot the fact that we were in the company of some of the most influential people in Singapore. We just ate and talked among ourselves. Ah, the feeling of nonchalance and youthful ignorance is wonderful indeed! But of course, there were people who snatched every opportunity to talk to all those people, chatting about the future of Singapore and other big important matters. I guess some people just can't act their age.

There aren't any pictures of the Istana visit because cameras weren't allowed in. Too bad.

Closing Ceremony

This time, they got it right. The closing ceremony was put on the proper day, the final one. This was the day that the project were put on display for all to see. It would also mark the end of Pre-U Sem for all of us, something that I didn't look forward to.

Anyway, SG7 started by walking around and taking a look at all the chosen projects. We were stunned. Their projects were all incredibly professional. Well organised, nice graphics, good content. They were astonishingly good, considering they had been completed it in a matter of days. If one were to juxtapose (sorry, just felt like using this very useless word) any one of the selected projects, with SG7's work, one would realise, without even a second glance, that SG7 submitted a piece of crap.

After a while, we got bored of realising how inadequate we were. Fortunately there was entertainment to be had. The Guest-Of-Honour had arrived. The minute he entered the room, the entire mood of the room changed. The really enthusiastic ones quickly positioned themselves in their stations, encircling the Minister like hungry lions, questions at the ready, pens quivering with excitement. Others, less enthusiastic, turned to look, then returned to whatever they were doing. Some, like myself, ran away.

I'm sure the Minister is a very respectable man, one who works hard for our nation. His is a leader of the highest caliber. However, he does have a very, shall I say, noticeable bodily feature. This very outstanding feature must have been a result of him working late nights, putting himself through an immense amount of stress, all for the betterment of our nation. Okay, enough ambiguity, let me be blunt. He is very bald. And his very bald head is very shiny.

There were some people who were making fun of him. I shall describe the scene from the third person. Some were trying in earnest to take photos of his head, perhaps as a memento, or for remembrance, who knows. However as they were shuddering with laughter, the photos they took were blurry and out of focus. A tall boy was then employed to do the job. Then someone made an urgent remark to caution against the use of flash, for if it were to reflect off our Minister's very shiny head, we would all be blinded by the LIGHT OF A THOUSAND SUNS. It would be a shame if the supposed brightest minds of the nation were killed by a freak accident.

Soon we lost interest in the Minister. Suddenly, for no reason at all, schools started to cheer. Like, cheer really loudly. The halls reverberated with the shrill cries of crazed girls, and I feared for my own safety. Then everyone rushed off to find their own school, and we all started cheering. I really don't know why. Oh well, yay for school spirit. After a while, the schools dispersed. That was when The Great Camwhoring Session began. It began innocently. SG7 wanted to remember this wonderful occasion. So we took photos with each other. It led to full-blown insanity. I'll let the pictures do the talking.

[Notice our expressions do not change]

[This is just scary]

[Also scary]

[Once again, scary]

[Really scary]

[Deepa is everywhere.]

Soon it was time for the actual closing ceremony. We strung together glowsticks to make giant chain to signify world peace or some equivalent feel-good mumbo jumbo. Our voices rang in unison as we sung "If We Hold On Together". As our noise drowned out Diana Ross, we swayed to the uplifting lyrics, in that slow-motion kind of way. You know what I'm talking about.

I am not lying.

[Feel the emo love.]

The end of the song marked the end of Pre-U Sem. I was about to feel sad, but then SG7 had to rush off, to collect food for our Tea Break. After tea, we went back to the hostels for the very last time, packed our bags, and bid each other farewell. What began as a group of complete strangers had ended up as a fun-loving bunch of friends.

[Hold me forever]

Going Home

When I reached home, I came to realise how much I enjoyed Pre-U Sem. It was a Friday afternoon, and I was all alone. Within a few hours, I had already begun to miss my friends, doing stupid things together, having meals together, working together, sharing laughs with each other.

It had been an unforgettable experience. These are the sort of memories that I will treasure forever, moments of sheer brilliance that will always be with me. Thank you MOE, PJC for organising this wonderful event. Thank you SG7, SLOs, for having been part of my life.

Thank you.

Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four

Pre-University Seminar 2007 (Part Four)

2007-06-13T22:03:00.000+08:00

Formal Attire

As I've said before, Pre-U Sem is a very prestigious event organised by the MOE, and as such, should be a held in an appropriately formal setting. All this is done to reflect the seriousness and the importance to our nation of the matters that were discussed during the 5 day event. It was the gathering of some the brightest young minds of our nation, from various institutions across our island nation. They were dressed in their finest, upholding the honour and pride of the schools that were emblazoned on their attire.

They made us wear blazers in the stupid Singapore heat.

Most of the schools Number 1 attire (the most formal one) consisted of black leather shoes, and a blazer and tie over their normal school attire. However I come from ACJC, and ACJC has to pride itself as being the most outstanding bunch. So our formal attire is completely different from our school uniform. Cream pants, white long sleeve shirt, blazer, ties, and black shoes. How I envied those who were able to wear short sleeves shirts and not have to worry about watching where they sitting down out of fear of dirtying their pants. However, my hardships were mere triflings when compared to those faced by girls of ACJC. They had to wear stockings, which I hear are a terrible injustice, as well as court shoes, a heinous crime against the feet. After hearing their horrific tales of extreme pain and discomfort, I thanked the stars that I was born a boy and could wear Hush Puppies which felt as comfortable as sports shoes.

Of course, ACJC had to be special, so we had to put up with strict rules regarding our attire. We were NOT ALLOWED (this was drilled into our minds over and over) make any unauthorised modifications to our attire at any time while in public. Unbuttoning our top shirt button would result in us having 12 days of shunning, while taking off our blazer would be reason enough for public stoning. Actually, I could have done lots of illegal stuff, but there were council electives around. I wasn't afraid of them, definitely not. I just didn't want some annoying kid using their "authority" and telling me what I "must" do. I also didn't want to force those nice ones to have to come up to tell me to do something that they themselves didn't want to do. So in the morning canteen while people took off blazers, rolled up sleeves, and loosened ties, I sat in my full attire, and looked on, with longing in my heart.

[Though I may be smiling, I am weeping inside.]

Despite all the effort put into the formalities, it was still not that formal. There were several who were dressed very sloppily, their shirts tucked out with rolled up sleeves. During breaks, ties were off, and blazers thrust onto the floor in an instant. (Not ACJC.) Court shoes soared through the air as girls sat down on the floor and sighed of relief as they massaged their feet.

SG7 & SLOs

SG7 was the best group of people I could have hoped for (with the exception of... ahem.) They were incredibly fun, and made Pre-U Sem a most memorable event. Before panel discussions, we would go to the nearby 7-Eleven to buy provisions, to make the panel discussions more bearable. After eating, we would sleep. This led to us playing a game of Survivor: Pre-U Sem, seeing who was able to withstand the intense boredom and stay awake. The winners were awarded with waffles from the canteen. I did not get a waffle. During breaks we would rush out, and amass huge plates of food and drink to be shared among all. We played many of those trick question games, (Fuzzy Wuzzy, MRT, etc...) it's incredibly fun when you know the secret and others don't. We talked, shared many laughs during the various activities, and contributed to the general silliness.

[SG7]

Our SLOs (Student Liaison Officers. Very long words that mean tour guide.) were also wonderful. They bought snacks for us, wrote little notes of encouragement, and did many other nice things. They became an actual part of our group, instead of just people who would bring us around to places we needed to go. Winnie had an incredibly quirky sense of humour, and her upbeat personality was very effective in keeping our spirits up. Redzuan was surprising sensitive (emo). He had no problems being the target of insults, and was not afraid to dish them out as well.

[Winnie. She usually looks happier than this.]

[Emo Redzuan. This is an unintentionally very good photo.]

SG7 moments. Redzuan and Jocelyn calling each other shorty. Zhan Ming being too tall, and his Mr. Bean impressions. ChunMeng from HCI and speaking as little Mandarin as I do. Jastin for the weird spelling of his name, and sleeping as much as me. DJ, a really fit guy who can do many types of crazy pushups. Zak, sitting next to me all the time, and always laughing at... stuff. Lina and Rina confusing us on the first day with their similar names, and the great big hoo-hah over the STALKER. Winnie and her Lunchtime and Tea Reception cheers, which were very strange, to say the least. Deepa for her wacky sense of humour and laughing at nothing ALL THE TIME. Daryl for his British voiceover. Andy for the lousy game he created. Joel who had the willpower to study for his exams while we had fun. ChenChen and Evelyn as our Chinese-speaking Older Sisters. Yvonne for looking angry all the time, and pretending to answer her phone to avoid a certain someone. Charis and Biwen for being quiet and reserved most of the time, but having periodic outbursts of insanity. Julian for his incredibly expensive camera, whose pictures I still haven't seen yet.

[The tall and short]

For some reason that I cannot recall, we became "Sisters and Brothers". We had an effeminate hand action for the girls, and a rather violent one for the guys. I later came up with one that merged the two, something that was gay yet full of rage at the same time. Whenever there was a cry of "Sisters & Brothers!", sharp ears would pick up the call, and heads would snap to the direction of the sound, and all would rush to assemble, hand actions at the ready. One would expect the boys to be part of the Brothers, and the girls the Sisters. However, that is not completely true. For some inexplicable reason that I cannot recall, I was part of the Sisters. They christened me with a new name, Tandy, which came about by merging Tan and DeYong. According to them, it sounds like a really hot girl. However, for the sake of clarity, and to avoid any misunderstandings, let it be known to everyone that I'm not a hot girl. I will not entertain desperate boys.

[Sisters & Brothers]

[Tandy and the SLOs.]

SG7, you have been wonderful. Thank you so much.

Okay, there will be a fifth part.

Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Five

Pre-University Seminar 2007 (Part Three)

2007-06-11T21:44:00.000+08:00

The Opening Ceremony was held on the second day.

Morning

Girls

Guys

Of course, with guests-of-honor and other big important people, it was a formal event. Unnecessarily formal. More on that later. The Keynote Speaker was RAdm (NS) Lui Tuck Yew, Minster of State/Education. I don't know which one. It says both in the booklet. The Nanyang Auditorium became very well decorated, giant garlands of flowers adorned every corner. I recall there being a massive banner thing on stage. The press also made their presence felt, with more than a few photographers, cameramen, and guys carrying the big fuzzy sticks (you know what I mean) stationed in various nooks and crannies in the room. Suddenly everyone in the room became very aware of their own physical appearance and presentation.

We were asked to stand for the RAdm. It soon turned out to be the run-of-the-mill type of formal event. Speakers thanking long lists of people before they began proper. Long, dull and dry speeches. Before long, even the most hardy of us were brought to our knees before the combined forces of nonchalance, apathy, and boredom. Within the hour, we were begging for mercy, longing for the sweet embraces of freedom and leg-stretching. One of the things they were very proud of was that people were able to send in SMSes to ask question to the Minister. However, their use of IT resulted in unexpected consequences. RJC and MJC people arguing over their high profile soccer match. Students from the Arts and Science faculties having heated debates over whose life is more difficult and more stressful and more tiring and more pitiful. People asking questions using SMS language. Lyk tis. Pretty soon our restlessness faded, and became drowsiness. More on that later as well.

We were asked to stand once again for the Guests-of-Honor. I mean, guests should be treated with respect, so that would imply that a Guest-of-Honor would deserve to at least be revered as demigods. This time, we were much more enthusiastic, with more than a few people stretching their arms to sky, and giving great big disturbing groans. We were hungry and tired.

Break

The Food

The provided meals was of varying standards. We weren't mistreated, but some of the food left something to be desired, and it wasn't the amount. We were fed 6 times a day. It's amazing that I didn't gain weight. Breakfast, brunch, lunch, tea, dinner, then supper. Breakfast was usually some kind of fried starchy food. I remember seeing great big pools of grease in my noodles on the first morning. Breakfast became a cup of hot drink. Brunch, lunch and tea was usually catered food, which was quite good. Dinner was usually in the canteen near our hostels, which was pretty decent as well. I didn't eat supper. We came to realize something. The catered food we ate was the same as the one as the Guests-of-Honor.

Parallel Presentations

These were held from Tuesdays to Thursday. Basically, students from the various schools gave us lectures. I recall nothing from the first day, except that the tables on the LT can swing out from under you unexpectedly, making it less than ideal for resting upon. On the second day, I remember much more, however, not related to the actual content. I took it upon myself to rate the various schools on their presentation skills. On the final day, I decided that I would try and listen, and it turned out to be actually quite fun. Zhan Ming, my RJC friend, (I realized I haven't talked about my SG at all) and myself decided we would criticize and nitpick and all the points that the students put forward. We had hoped to go forward to ask questions so that we could render them speechless and embarrass them, but we didn't get the chance to. Apparently others had similar thoughts. Damn. We were particularly mean to Dunman High.

Quote from one of the presentations: Volunteerism should be made compulsory.

One thing that many of us would remember was the Q&A session with CJC. Their representative, some girl, was asked difficult questions regarding the many problems regarding the points and arguments in their otherwise intendedly comical presentation. However, she didn't only answer with stammers and long pauses. My HCI friend, Chun Meng, was the very first to notice that whenever she was faced with a particularly difficult question, she would slowly pull her skirt up. Whether or not it was intended, subconscious, or unintended, I'll never know. However, the effects were minimal as half the room was filled with girls, and the distractions were minor.

Oh hindsight, I realize that most of the presentations ended up being very similar to each other. Singapore isn't really that broad a topic. There is only so much you can talk about. After a while, everything starts to overlap, and I would hear similar points being reiterated many times.

Panel Discussions

These were held from Tuesday to Thursday as well. Basically big important people would present stuff to us, and then answer questions. We were given the opportunity to learn about interesting things like how the PUB works and stuff and other things. The three panel discussions were world.sg, future.sg, and home.sg. Okay, to be honest I can't remember what the panel discussions were about, probably because I wasn't listening. Everyone wasn't as well.

This is the sort of things we do during Panel Discussions

However there are two things I remember clearly. One of the panelists was an MP. He must be from the PAP, because I don't remember his name. For some unknown reason he was making a comment on people posting their opinions on the internet through forums or blogs or what have you. He criticized them, blasting them for only complaining, but never offering any of their own solutions. He said we should have a more proactive community or something to that extent. Excuse me. What are we paying him for? Aren't MPs supposed to help us, instead of telling us that we should help ourselves? Does he expect us to do his job?

The other most memorable part of the panel discussion wasn't the discussion. It was about one of the panelists. This person was from ASTAR, which isn't a primary school tuition center, but some Science... thing. The presentation was regarding nanotechnology. However, interesting as it may have been, we were too distracted to pay attention. The ASTAR representative was, to put in succinctly, neither man or woman. (I know I'm being mean, but it's just in my nature to be very blunt about such things.) He/She was dressed in a suit, but with sneakers.

My friends and I were having heated debates over the truth regarding this androgynous panelists, whilst he/she was talking about how they can now insert tiny little robots into your body and do cool stuff. At first, most of us were sure it was man, but then we slowly came to doubt our first impressions, and then converted to thinking it was a woman. Our passion and curiosity drove us to great lengths in our research. First we looked into the oh-so-helpful little booklet, hoping to find the salutations of said person. It was Professor. We then looked at the name. Jackie. Someone let out a cry of desperation. One of us actually wanted to follow the person around until he/she needed to go to the bathroom. How noble. I remembered my mother once told me to look at the persons hands to find out their sex. She did this when she was in a similar situation. No good, we were too far away. We then scrutinized the body. The person was somewhat plump. Nothing conclusive. In the end, after listening to the person's voice for a very long long long time, we came to the conclusion that it was more likely to be a woman. We are a resounding success, and a great benefit to society.

After the panel discussions, people would ask questions. I would get very annoyed. It usually went several ways. People asked questions just for the sake of asking them. They already know the answer. I already know the answer. We all know the answer. Other times, people would suck up. I remember one guy passionately declaring "That was the most inspiring panel discussion ever!". I was too far to see the tears rolling down his face while utter rubbish spewed forth from his mouth. Other times students would ask a question, but by the time they have finished explaining themselves, no one can remember what they were asking. I also recall one girl sucking up, then going on to ask how she can get some money. Sometimes it is the panelists who have wronged me. After hearing a question, they will speak of a topic completely unrelated to the topic, and then before the questioner has a chance to reply, they say "thank you for you question" then point at the next person. All this happens will people patiently wait to go out of the auditorium to stretch their legs and have some food. How inconsiderate. Typical Singaporean.

The Sandman

Julian was the one that told me about the folklore of the sandman, who sprinkles magical sand in your eyes and lulls you to sleep. The grit that you find in your eyes when you wake up is supposed to be the residue of his work. Well, that little guy must have been working overtime. Whenever I sat down in those comfortable chairs in the Auditorium, I would feel a sudden wave of drowsiness. I wasn't the only one. During the moments which I was awake and paying close attention, which I admit weren't as many as there should have been, I would turn around, thus focusing my attention away from the big important thing in the front, and look at my fellow Pre-U Sem participants. I would see entire rows of nodding heads, mouths wide open, heads resting on palms, and curled up little boys and girls. Some tried to be inconspicuous, by sitting low on their seat, so that they were resting on their backs, while others just didn't care and slept in the most comfortable position that a chair would allow.

For some reason this is the only picture of a person sleeping.

So ends part three.

I'm not sure if I can fit everything into four parts. We shall see.

Part One
Part Two
Part Four
Part Five

Pre-University Seminar 2007 (Part Two)

2007-06-05T15:44:00.000+08:00

On a bright and early Monday morning, the 21st of May, I made my way to school. The only noticeable difference from another normal Monday morning was that I was carrying a large massive bulky bag, and the gigantic smile that stretched across my face. I couldn't help be a little more cheery and friendly on that day, waving energetically to all my friends, acquaintances, and even some people who I can't stand. I would sneak into our conversations, with subtlety, the fact that I WAS GOING TO SKIP 5 DAYS OF SCHOOL WHILE THEY WEREN'T. SUCKERS. Upon hearing my casual remark, their face would completely change, from the surprise of seeing an unusually friendly and chipper Deyong, to disgust and regret, that they themselves didn't try out for Pre-U Sem, and someone like me managed to get in. As they shuffled away, their grumbles and muttered death threats were masked by the approaching heavy thunderstorm. Staring at the rain, listening to the fierce noises of water pouring from the skies, I smiled.

After a short bus ride, we reached NTU. We checked in to the hostel, and took the chance to have a look around. I was underwhelmed to say the very least, while some of my fellow ACSians were appalled. To be honest, the hostel looked pretty decent. The style wasn't quite so modern, had a somewhat rustic feel, so that the ivy and vines growing on the walls added to the atmosphere, instead of taking away from it. However, when I first opened my room door, I was hit with a wave of musty air. It felt as if the room hadn't been used in a very long time. The furnishings of the room were simple, but adequate. Two chairs, two desks, two beds, and one cupboard. However, there was something that was missing, to have to spend 5 days without it would be quite a challenge. I searched high and low, to no avail. I began to panic. There was no air-con.

There was no air-con. How could it be? As this realization dawned upon me, I sank to my knees, and covered my face with my hands, at this most unfortunate turn of events. I raised my hands to the sky, and with tears of anguish at this terrible injustice, I mourned for myself. Oh what have I done to deserve this cruel fate? Heavens forgive me! I then quickly claimed the bed directly under the fan as my own, leaving my roommate (who had not appeared) the crappier one.

I then had to use the bathroom. A shared bathroom. Though it was clean, I wasn't very fond of it. I have never been particularly fond of shared bathrooms. I care not to elaborate. It would be gross and unnecessary. So, to do the simple task of washing my hands, I would have to put on footwear, find my key, open the door, lock it, and walk 30 meters to the nearest bathroom, then walk back 30 meters, open my door, go inside, lock it, and take off my shoes.
Quite a bit of effort for a simple task.

I'm not sure I would care to live in such a place for 4 years of my life. Perhaps NS would change my mindset.

Anyway, I then went to meet up with my Seminar Group (SG). We were to play icebreaker games. Familiar faces greeted me, yet I struggled to remember their names. At this time, we couldn't really be called friends. However that would change over the next few days. First we played Field Table Soccer. Basically, it's soccer for lazy people. You stand in a line with a few other people, and you can only move from side to side. It was pretty fun, what with the rampant cheating, and 5 man Kallang waves that we did whenever we scored a goal. This would be the beginnings of our friendship. I think we won at the end. However, we met a SCARY GIRL whose presence, from that moment on, terrified us. One of us (not me) kicked the ball quite high, and managed to hit her. She was not pleased. Next we played a game in which we had to walk through some net-like thingy. This one was not so fun. That was the end of icebreaker games. I guess when then say "games" they mean "just slightly more than one game".

After the games, we were to change into our smart Pre-U Sem polo tees to go for our first Special Program. Perhaps I should elaborate. Pre-U Sem is not a holiday. We actually do stuff. One of the things we have to do is a project, related to Singapore being the most wonderful place in the entire universe. To assist us in our monumental task, all the SGs are brought on different field trips to gather information. Some groups got the chance to meet interesting people. Dick Lee, Hossan Leong, and Joscelin Yeo were just a few of them. Of course, my SG didn't get to meet these people. Our project was "Singapore as a Global City". We got to visit the URA.

To be honest, it was quite an informative trip. We learned how the URA operates, and how they do an important, though unglamorous job. We also got to take a closer look at the new Marina Bay, which promises to be an entertainment hub that will rock the world and turn it into the hottest place to be. The two employees who were there to entertain us were friendly, and quite patient, willingly answering our inane questions. Their presentations would ended up being a huge help in the conceptualizing of our ideas for the project. They also provided us with cold drinks, which was very nice. Thank you, URA.

I don't know what the chair is doing over there.

Here is a picture of the new sexy Marina Bay that doesn't yet exist.

Anyway, that was not the end of the day. At 8pm at night, we were to attend lectures to help us do our project. I am not kidding. Some of us were sent to learn to use some computer software which were given to us so that we could do our project better, and the rest of us were forced to go to some storyboard lecture. Basically, we were all going to be movie directors. It was conducted by some foreigner with a weird accent, who was supposed to be some big shot animator. However, the promising premise was soon shattered as he began to mumble on about TV aspect ratios. (I don't remember why.) Let me refer back to my notes.

"Descrne oniept inne sevturd. chrmtei urul challenges. ab is knrsynthig!!!"

That was most helpful. The lecture was most ineffective. First of all, they were trying to condense two weeks worth of information into 2 hours, so foreigner guy had to go really fast. Second, 8-10pm aren't the hours at which people are most alert. Everyone was sleeping. I wasn't sleeping when I took those notes down, I was merely writing with my eyes closed. I would soon learn that sleeping would end up being a most common occurrence over the next few days.

Oh dear, I didn't expect to write this much. I was originally expecting to have a 3 part essay, but now it looks like it will stretch to 4 parts.

Don't worry, there will be more pictures in the next posts.

Part One
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five

Pre-University Seminar 2007 (Part One)

2007-05-27T21:42:00.000+08:00

I really did enjoy myself during Pre-U Sem, which some of you may find hard to believe. I found it hard to believe myself, given the purpose of this seminar. Let me illustrate.

(This was copied word for word from the very useful file that was provided to all of us)

Objectives Of Seminar

1. raise participants' awareness of the changes and emerging opportunities taking place in the local and global scene and how Singaporeans can respond to and take advantage of them;

2. provide opportunities for participants to examine how young Singaporeans and Singapore must innovate and explore ways to adapt to new realities while remaining true to their values, beliefs, and the way they live;

3. allow participants to gain new knowledge and perspectives by engaging them in meaningful exchange with senior officials and experts from different fields as well as in discussion sessions among themselves;

4. engage students in Special Activities in which they will have to exercise independence, teamwork, inventiveness, and resourcefulness to deal with challenges in an increasingly complex environment;

5. encourage networking and bonding among young Singaporeans from different institutions and from disparate backgrounds.

I think you get the idea. It does seem rather dry, does it not? Read on to find out.

There is so much to talk about, perhaps I should start from the beginning. (I think this will be longest post I will ever have.)

It started out during the first 3 months of school. My GP teacher told me about something interesting, Pre-U Sem. Apparently it had been around for many years, and was quite prestigious. It sounded somewhat like propaganda, about how Singapore was the Centre Of The World. It sounded intriguing. I later learned that it comprised of a five day seminar, which was during the school term, meaning that I would have to miss 5 days of school should I get chosen to go. It would also give me the chance to hang around smart people. I signed up immediately.

It turned out that wanting to go, and being able to go were two very different things. First of all, I wasn't the only person eyeing the 5 week absence from school. ACJC could only send 25 representatives, so the field had to be narrowed down. One very effective way to do that was to have a compulsory written essay, with a very short deadline. The title of our essay was iSingapore: Challenge, Create, Connect. Which turned out to be the theme for this year's seminar. No hints were given, it was an open ended essay. Many people were understandably stumped, and gave up immediately. What kind of nonsensical topic was that? It didn't even mean anything! I, however, was made of tougher stuff. The night before the due date, I rushed out some nonsensical essay, filled with the ramblings of a desperate teenager. At least I was better off than one of my friends, who wrote his essay during ECONS LECTURE. I doubted that my effort would get shortlisted, but well, it was worth a try.

To my immense surprise and elation, I found out that I was selected! However, to my dismay, I found out that I was merely selected to go on to the next round, where the final list of participants would be decided by an interview. Why must they torture me so? Just let me go! When I was in the waiting room getting ready for my interview, one of the girls there told me that the interview was to be based mainly on our essay. Unfortunately, the minute I had handed up my essay, I completely forgot what I had wrote. Probably because it was so ambiguous and pointless.

Getting interview by two teachers isn't a very pleasant task. First of all, they asked me difficult questions. Questions that didn't really mean anything. So I basically just started talking, and prayed that I wouldn't stop. Second, there were two teachers. I didn't know which one I was supposed to look at. Was I supposed to look at the one that asked the question? Or was I supposed to look at the both of them? In the end, I just ended up darting my eyes at both of them, hoping that their nods and smiles were good signs.

A few days later, I found out that I had got in. I must admit, I was rather glad.

So, after I was told that I would be going to Pre-U Sem, that was pretty much the end of my meetings. There were 4 different groups of people that were involved in the seminar. Researchers, IT-savvy People, Presenters, and Participants. Of the 4, the least work-intensive was the Participants, so I guess you know which of the four I was. So while the 3 other groups of people had meetings, I was left out. Not that I minded.

The Saturday

Anyway, I was later informed that all Seminar participants were expected to go down to NTU on a early Saturday morning, for some... Pre-Pre-U Sem event. It turned out to be some sort of icebreaker event, where we would get to meet our groups, which would be called Seminar Groups, or SGs. (You can't make this sort of things up.) Little did I know that this was just the beginning of the Singapore Is Great idea that would be conveyed to us during our waking (and perhaps sleeping, who knows) hours. Each group comprised of students from various schools, so I was put together with a bunch of complete strangers. At that moment we felt awkward, as we had nothing to talk about, but during the actual seminar, we ended up having a great time together.

So ends part one, where I haven't even started taking about the actual Pre-U Seminar yet. Wonderful.

Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five

2007-05-25T16:50:00.000+08:00

Pre-U Sem was fantastic.

There most definitely will be a post on it, coming up soon.

2007-05-21T06:20:00.000+08:00

I will be away from the 21st to the 25th of May. I will be participating in the Pre-U Seminar, where kids from all the JCs and some of the polytechnics gather together to... do... stuff. It's all terribly exciting.

So for those of you who have to go to school for this whole week, enjoy.

:)

ACJC Council Elections (Part Two)

2007-05-19T20:51:00.000+08:00

So, on the very Monday morning after week after The Week Of Campaigning was the Hour Of Reckoning. The dreary morning air, along with the shuffling of weary student feet was such a compliment to the mood for the event of that day. The Day That Would Change Lives Forever.

The morning began as always, with the singing of our two favorite songs, the ACS anthem, and of course, the National Anthem. I particularly enjoy Monday mornings, because of chapel service. So anyway, after morning assembly, we usually have about 80 minutes to slack around. However, much to the displeasure of the entire college, 40 minutes that precious time was taken away from us. It was wretched from our grasp! Oh, how I yearn for those precious droplets of time, how I desire to be with them again. I will not bear with this insult, this transgression will not escape justice. I will never let you go, I'm sure that you know. Sweet break time, you will be mine.

Alright, so after the morning announcements, the Elections were set to begin! This was the Moment Of Reckoning. All the Council-hopefuls prayed that their efforts would have payed off, the substantial amounts of money that they put forward to buying candy and printing our little stickers and posters and other thingys had not gone to waste. (But of course, it did.) All they could do now was to to put their trust in us, the most untrustworthy people of all, teenagers. (Teenagers are the most untrustworthy people. Honestly. Sometimes we say that we will do something. Then we just not do it. For fun. We don't forget about what said, we just choose not to honor our words.)

So, the entire college held its breath in anticipation, wondering who they could possibly choose to be their representatives in the future. So we waited. Waited. And waited some more. Soon our anticipation turned to annoyance. It appeared in order to appease us, the current Councilors decided to hold a fashion show, the draw our attention, whilst they made final preparations. However, we, or at least I, came to realize that the people who were walking single file down the middle aisles weren't fashion models. First of all, none of them were stick thin. Second, they were all wearing the same thing.

As the very first Council-hopeful walked on to stage, she was met with applause. Walking up to the mike, she was obviously quite nervous. She managed said a few words, which were met with the laughter and cheers of the school. She graciously acknowledged the crowds cheers, and walked off.

The next Council-hopeful then walked on to stage, and she was met with applause. Walking up to the mike, she was obviously quite nervous. She managed said a few words, which were met with the laughter and cheers of the school. She graciously acknowledged the crowds cheers, and walked off.

The next Council-hopeful then walked on to stage, and she was met with applause. Walking up to the mike, she was obviously quite nervous. She managed said a few words, which were met with the laughter and cheers of the school. She graciously acknowledged the crowds cheers, and walked off.

The next Council-hopeful then walked on to stage, and she was met with applause. Walking up to the mike, she was obviously quite nervous. She managed said a few words, which were met with the laughter and cheers of the school. She graciously acknowledged the crowds cheers, and walked off.

I think you know where I'm going with this. The first 10 or so Council-hopefuls were met with enthusiastic applause. However, there were about 60 of them altogether. The audience's enthusiasm soon waned, and soon what began as raucous roars of approval became mere trickles of pity applause. If a candidate came up with a a hilarious one liner, then of course people would laugh and respond, but if that person's one liner was not funny or very forgettable, then he would be met with UTTER SILENCE.

For example:

Some generic message about loving ACJC and being a nice person and doing the best may have come straight from the heart, and be totally sincere, however, it will have limited impact, and won't be remembered when one is thinking about who to elect as a Councilor.

However, something like "If you want someone who's tall, smart, and handsome. Vote for me. (Pause) I will help you find him".

This is a great one liner. First of all, it captures people's attention. After hearing the first part, people will be shocked. Who the hell does this guy think he is? People then become very attentive. It was also very well delivered, making people laugh. It is also a form self-deprecating humor, showing humility and the willingness to poke fun at oneself. Hence, increasing the likability of said candidate greatly.

Other methods that were used to great success in garnering attention including singing a song terriblly off-key, as demonstrated by JianDa, who was a former SJI boy, and silly wordplays, as demonstrated by SoeMin's "Don't be so mean, vote for Soe Min.".

After the final person finished, there was a final applause, and several catcalls, along with a handful of "woohoos". There was then a lull, as people were deciding out of the 60-odd hopefuls, to whom they would contribute their five votes to. Within a few minutes, the voting process was over. The elections were over. The students streamed slowly out of the hall, and the day was to continue as it usually did. The councilors took about 4 days to count the votes. On the Friday of that week, the results came out.

The results were very unsurprising. Except for one or two unexpected new Councilors, all those who were expected to get in, did get in. This is exactly what made me displeased with Council elections. Mind you, I don't have any problems with any of the Councilors. I'm sure they all are good decent people, none of whom are crazed ax-welding murderers or drug addicts or perverse skirt-chasers. All of the hopefuls needed teachers to endorse them, so thats an indication of the type of people they are. However, I do have an issue with the way the Councilors are chosen. It was a popularity contest. I admit, even I contributed to this. I voted in two of my classmates, two of my old schoolmates, not because I felt they definitely deserved to be Councilors, but because they were my friends. The last remaining vote I just closed my eyes, ran my fingers across the voting slip, and picked a random guy. I forgot his name, but I think he got in.

All the J1s did pretty much what I did. Vote for your friends. That's the way things go. For the J2s, things were even stranger. Since most of them didn't know any of the hopefuls, they just voted for people whom they thought were funny. One of my J2 friends admitted to me, that he didn't care about the person's character, and just voted for people who made him laugh. He went on to say that was what everyone did anyway.

Now how is this fair? The person who may not be the most qualified, but is the most popular gets in? Is that how things should be? Or could it be that being charismatic is part of the qualifications. Perhaps this is just the way life is. Ability is not imperative, and all that one requires to get through life is a pretty face or charisma. All of the hopefuls had to jump through hoops to get as far as they did, and only to be denied at the very last moment. Some of those who didn't get in were unable to hold their tears in, and I can't say I blame them.

Is this the way things should be?

Life sure can be cruel sometimes.

ACJC Council Elections (Part One)

2007-05-13T00:23:00.000+08:00

During these past two weeks, ACJC has been swept up into this frenzied rage. For two weeks, the entire canteen/canteen walkway/candeck/void deck was plastered with colorful posters, each poster featuring the smiling faces of a handful of ACJC students with various numbers that don't mean anything somewhere on the fliers as well. Said students were also seen throughout this entire period of time with very gaudy and very noticeable neon green badges pinned near to their school crests. Each badge bearing the name, class, and random-number-used-to-differentiate-them-from-the-others.

I have been meaning to talk about Council Elections and the Week Of Campaigning, however, I've been busy. I would talk about how JC life sucks, the trivial difficulties and obstacles of my life, and the reasons my existence has completely lost its meaning, but I don't want to become a Javier. I've also seemed to have somewhat lost my ability to form rational thought and to suitably express my feelings regarding various happenings.

But I digress. (As I always seem to do) So anyway, today's post is about Council Elections. However, I am going to borrow a page from Javier's book, and cheat. Meaning, I'm going to include lots of pretty pictures so as to distract people from the woeful lack of other content. So, let us proceed.

Credit of all photos goes to my Sony Ericsson K610im.

We shall begin with a pointless picture.

This sign is seen by the 1000-odd students who utilize our country's MRT system to get to school everyday. For those of you who do not fully understand the point my photo is trying to make, perhaps you should let me explain. I am not a professional photographer, so this quick snapshot isn't everything that it could've been. I was also surrounded by many other students, so I did not want to draw unnecessary attention to myself by stopping in the middle of the path taken to school, in the process disrupting the flow of movement, to take a picture of a stupid signpost.

Anyway, the "WALK THIS WAY" signpost is pointing towards the right, directing the unaware commuter to walk on the footpath, instead of walking on the road. I must admit, the idea of walking with cars is somewhat appealing, and it has crossed my mind several times before. I tried to include in the photo the rush of oncoming traffic for added effect, but alas, by the time I snapped the picture, the car had stopped moving.

So thank you, thoughtful construction worker, for putting up that very informative signpost. Perhaps the Singapore government would consider creating a nationwide campaign, alerting the public to the importance of walking of sidewalks instead of the road. Since we are Uniquely Singapore (tm), we must of course, create a stupid acronym for this campaign. I suggest Walk NORMAL (Walk Not On Roads, Men And Ladies!) Perhaps someone could come up with a radio jingle or TV ad to accompany my slogan, something similar to the highly acclaimed "Sars is the virus, that I just want to minus!" advertisements of 2001. With I.T. and various other technologies, using the different forms of media, it is very possible for us to succeed in our task of teaching the multi-cultural and multi-racial peoples of Singapore the importance of not walking on the roads!

Walk NORMAL.

More pointless pictures.

Oh, I feel the spirit of creativity and artistic expression flowing through the very core of my soul! These pictures that I've taken do seem very artistic, do they not? The first one conveys a sense of gracefulness and smooth flowing movement. Either that, or lightsabres. The second one seems like some sort of design created by a professional. Oh, I am so proud of myself.

How did I create these works of art? I can teach you. First you take your mobile phone. Find a smooth surface, such as the top of a stack of paper. Take a picture, then quickly spin your phone. The lousier your camera, the better the effect.

This is what students do when boredom has set in.

I am really long-winded, am I not? Back on topic!

Campaigning Week

Two weeks ago, campaigning for Student Councilors began. Meaning, all the hopeful nominees try and become as well known as they possibly can, so that they can fulfill their hopes and dreams. All of them put up posters, but some went to even greater lengths, with varying levels of success, from zero to none.

I recall several Council hopefuls sticking plastic boxes to the sides of our void deck tables, with little stars printed with their names stapled onto straws. I have no idea why they thought anyone would be compelled to take the stars, unless of course, they dream of become fairies or Harry Potter. Here are the things that I'm talking about.

As you can see, the heartless students of ACJC have come up with another use for their boxes. Convenient trash cans. Now we don't even have to walk the 8 steps necessary to get to the nearest bin. Our spirit of inventiveness is astounding.

Other people came up with more practical solutions.

I tried to blur out the numbers, (hey, no free publicity here) but I now realize that one can still read the names and numbers to a certain extent. I must admit, the tissue boxes were a success. However, they only succeeded in killing more trees and providing us with free tissue paper in our times of need. Here is an action shot, modeled by my friend.

No one particularly cared who provided the boxes of tissue. No one thought, "Hey, xxx was so courteous, providing me with free tissue papers, hence I shall vote for him/her!". Most people probably went "Alright! Free stuff!". I recall one of my friends taking and entire tissue box, putting it in his bag, and using it for himself and our class. After all, it's good to share.

Those weren't the only tactics that the wannabe-Councilors resorted to. Stickers with their personal information were stuck everywhere, from bags to shirts, and, on rare occasions, near the zippers of pants. Little ice cream sticks were scattered about the grounds of the Campaign zone. Some even stuck stickers on the tops of bottles of drinks sold by the canteen vendors, or on the plastic wrappers of sandwiches and other tidbits.

Towards the end of the week, all of the nominees started handing out free candy, in a final attempt to garner attention. Once again, this didn't really have the impact they had imagined. After all, all of them were handing out free candy, so they weren't really outstanding. If a group of them didn't even give any away, people probably wouldn't even notice.

Once again, the effect of the sudden generosity of the 50-odd Council hopefuls wasn't really to expectation. I think they expected people to take the candy, see who had given out the candy, and vote for them to become councilors. However, I just don't see how giving away free candy can really lead to people thinking you deserve to be a Student Councilor, but that's just my personal opinion. The situation that usual occurred was that a person would take the candy, ignore the little sticker pasted on it, open it up, eat it, and throw the wrapper into the nearest bin, or little fairy wand box.

So ends part one of my post. I will talk about the actual elections and my opinion on them some other time. I was going to talk about it in this post, but this post is already quite lengthy.

Laziness Is A Virtue

2007-05-06T22:08:00.000+08:00

Oh dear. I've realized that I haven't posted an update in 2 weeks. I cannot allow that to happen. So here I am, preventing the occurrence of a travesty of such epic proportions.

I'm not dead. I've not become a vegetable. My body has not been shattered to a million indiscernible pieces. I'm alive and well.

Anyway, I do still have opinions to force down other people's throats, and ideas that I believe everyone deserves to hear about, so watch this space.

Meanwhile, if you're interested in what goes on in my life, you can go visit Javier's blog. He should have a writeup/photoshoot-with-N95-camera-which-he-wants-to-show-off-to-the-entire-world regarding our activities this pass weekend so, go take a look. If it's not up yet, scold him.

Scientific Methods on That Which is Unscientific

2007-04-21T20:18:00.000+08:00

For those of you who are in ACJC, you would know that the entire J1 cohort of about 1000 students were required to take the MBTI, which stands for Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, a very fancy and posh sounding word for personality test. You would also know that we were asked to participate in this activity quite a while ago. Perhaps a month or so ago? Sorry, I have a terrible memory for these sort of things.

Anyway, the MBTI is surprisingly complex, much more so than the unrefined and vague personality test which you find on the internet, that only classifies people into 4 personality types. (How fascinating! After two hundred thousand years of evolution, there are only 4 general types of people in the world.) It seems as though the people behind the MBTI actually did proper research to come up with the system. There are 16 basic personality types in the MBTI. The MBTI test was carried out in strict circumstances. (No, they didn't patrol the hall silently, their keen eyes darting across the room, punishing people for looking at each others' scripts.) However, we weren't allowed to keep the question paper or the answer sheet, which I assume was to prevent other people who haven't taken the test to gain possession of any material that could influence their outcome should they make the decision to take the test. We were also not allowed to tell anyone the specific details of the test. Secretive stuff. Anyway, my personality type is ENTP. What that stands for, I can't remember.

Here is the description given to people of my personality type. (Lifted directly from some website, of course.)

"Clever" is the word that perhaps describes ENTPs best. The professor who juggles half a dozen ideas for research papers and grant proposals in his mind while giving a highly entertaining lecture on an abstruse subject is a classic example of the type. So is the stand-up comedian whose lampoons are not only funny, but incisively accurate.

ENTPs are usually verbally as well as cerebrally quick, and generally love to argue--both for its own sake, and to show off their often-impressive skills. They tend to have a perverse sense of humor as well, and enjoy playing devil's advocate. They sometimes confuse, even inadvertently hurt, those who don't understand or accept the concept of argument as a sport.

ENTPs are as innovative and ingenious at problem-solving as they are at verbal gymnastics; on occasion, however, they manage to outsmart themselves. This can take the form of getting found out at "sharp practice"--ENTPs have been known to cut corners without regard to the rules if it's expedient -- or simply in the collapse of an over-ambitious juggling act. Both at work and at home, ENTPs are very fond of "toys"--physical or intellectual, the more sophisticated the better. They tend to tire of these quickly, however, and move on to new ones.

ENTPs are basically optimists, but in spite of this (perhaps because of it?), they tend to become extremely petulant about small setbacks and inconveniences. (Major setbacks they tend to regard as challenges, and tackle with determination.) ENTPs have little patience with those they consider wrongheaded or unintelligent, and show little restraint in demonstrating this. However, they do tend to be extremely genial, if not charming, when not being harassed by life in general.

In terms of their relationships with others, ENTPs are capable of bonding very closely and, initially, suddenly, with their loved ones. Some appear to be deceptively offhand with their nearest and dearest; others are so demonstrative that they succeed in shocking co-workers who've only seen their professional side. ENTPs are also good at acquiring friends who are as clever and entertaining as they are. Aside from those two areas, ENTPs tend to be oblivious of the rest of humanity, except as an audience -- good, bad, or potential.

This summary begs the question, am I really like that? Is it an accurate and concise description of my character? I think it does describe me somewhat accurately, however, I don't think I'm the best person to be the judge of my own character, odd as that may seem. It's difficult to have an objective view and to see one's own flaws, no matter how obvious they may be to those around. Then again, maybe I am not at all like what I was told I'm supposed to be like. How can I be classified into a certain type after a 10 minute written test? Perhaps I just accepted what was told of me at face value. I chose not to question the results because I was told it was correct.

Another possibility is that the the test results are accurate, but only for those who answered the questions truthfully. While doing the test, I became vaguely aware of how the questions were structured, what the questions were trying to find out, and how they were ordered. So basically, I could manipulate the answers to be what I wanted them to be. Did I make a subconscious attempt to "choose" my personality type? I remember answering this certain type of question in the same way. I chose to do so. It is possible I tried to choose who I am, but I think it's highly unlikely. I don't think I would choose to be the same kind of person that Javier is. Then again, maybe the test is designed in a way such that these situations are taken into consideration. Does the MBTI know that I know how their test is carried out? That would be devious. I feel violated.
There is one more possibility. I know today's post is full of unanswered questions and things that may or may not be true. Bear with me. The MBTI is utter nonsense. How dare they try to define me? I am unique, there is no one else like me on this planet. Who are they to stick a label on my forehead, and classify me as they see fit? How can anyone even have the bravery to proclaim that they fully understand human thought and emotion? There are so many things that we don't fully comprehend about our physical bodies, let alone our spiritual and mental capacities.

I feel so drained. Asking myself such thought-provoking queries have left me more unsure with myself than when I started. Such abstract ideas have a way of causing me to start questioning everything around me. Pondering these complex issues will leave me curled up on my bed tonight with eyes wide open, heart racing, and concepts rushing through my head.

Now if you will excuse me, it's time for me to watch Pokemon.

Let Us Delve Into The Unknown

2007-04-10T19:59:00.000+08:00

"This sucks badly."

An oft-repeated phrase that can be heard being uttered as one traverses the many hallways of the various institutions of education and knowledge across our proud country. It can refer to a variety of things. I would rather not say, lest I be persecuted for my opinions.

However, let us take a closer examination at the phrase, and analyze its intended meaning. Be warned, the truth will set you free.

I have come up with two interpretations.

1. To begin with, "sucks badly" can be considered one phrase. Thus "sucks badly" is the description of "this". It would mean that the magnitude of suckage would be considered to be very high. That would give the phrase the meaning of "I am in a terrible situation" or something else similar.

2. The "badly" refers to "sucks". Hence it can be interpreted as "this" is very bad at sucking, which would inadvertently mean that "this" doesn't suck in the least bit, and perhaps could even be said to, might I say, rule. This would give a completely opposite meaning from the one derived in my first interpretation. The second meaning of the phrase would be similar to "My current circumstances are enviable."

It would seem, that with my inconclusive conclusion, I haven't really done anything of considerable significance. However, there is one lesson to be learned today. You would do well to commit it to memory, for it may have an impact on your existence. This fact will change your life.

Today, we have learned, that I have too much free time on my hands.

Desperation

2007-04-06T14:09:00.000+08:00

Sweet merciful God. Look what Wayne has brought upon me.

He's forced me to do this.

These are the rules: Each player of this game starts out by giving 6 weird things about themselves. People who get tagged need to write in a blog of their own 6 weird things as well as state the rules clearly. In the end, you need to choose 6 people to be tagged and list their names. After you do that, leave them each a comment letting them know you tagged them and to read your blog!

I'm losing the will to live.

It pains me to think how far I've fallen. Is this a bottomless pit into which I've been thrust unwillingly, doomed to forever sink lower and lower into the depths of mediocrity, and eventually, into that which is (gasp!) below average?!

Anyway, I am certain that sometime in the past I foolishly stated that I would post updates every Thursday and Sunday. That was, on hindsight, a terrible mistake. First of all, I am not an everlasting fountain gushing forth with fantastical thoughts and ingenious ideas. I cannot come up with new material on a constant basis. I do suffer from mental blocks occasionally. Secondly, I am prone to have the occasional bout of tiredness or fatigue. Sometimes there's homework to be done. Other times, movies need to be watched. Everything has their own personal needs. I can't let those go unnoticed.

So, from now on, I'll update whenever I want to.

To be honest, this game that Wayne has dragged me into was a godsend. At least now I don't have to come up with anything else to write about for the next few days. Thank you Wayne, this pointless exercise that you have bestowed upon me. You have my gratefulness.

Now, without more time wasting, I present to you,

The 6 Weird Things About Me.

1. I don't tell lies.

2. I spend too much money on headphones. (way too much)

3. I am in a sports-based CCA, but I don't particularly enjoy physical activities.

4. I have no PSLE certificate.

5. I read TIME magazine. From back to front. Every Issue.

6. I am an SJI boy.

So there you have it. It was quite a struggle to come up with all that. I guess I'm pretty normal. Or am I? Perhaps normal people think of themselves as being unique or special, so the belief that I am normal is a deviation from normalcy. Now I'm supposed to tell get 6 other friends to play this inane game, but I'm not going to do that. Why? Because I want to be special.

Take that, Wayne Teo.

What Is Your Impression?

2007-03-29T20:49:00.000+08:00

Why is it some people like to consistently quote great thinkers, philosophers, intellectuals or whoever else in their conversations?

Is it because they find it necessary to demonstrate to the entire world how well-read they are?

Or is it because they can't come up with anything of their own with any sort of substance or value and are thus forced to borrow from others whom are far cleverer than themselves?

Tears Of Joyful Exuberance and Sad Remembrance

2007-03-25T21:47:00.000+08:00

Oh dear me. It appears my descent into the common and uninspiring has not reached it's climax yet. Previously I gave you a recount of my day, which I must admit, even shocked myself. Yet today, I sink even lower. Will this never end? The next time you see me, I may even write for "Today" or (let it not be so!) The New Paper.

So today, I bring to you yet even more inconsequential (but hopefully) interesting tripe.

With that tone, let's begin today's memorial service.

I forgot to mention, today's post marks another milestone for me. (Yes, I appear to have many milestones.) Anyway, it's the first time I'm going to show pictures that I've taken myself. Not those taken off the internet. Please excuse the grainy images and untrained photography.

(Notice the extremely classy and expensive Oakley pouch.)

Today, we are gathered across cyberspace, in a memorial for our dear sweet friend, whom has been an important part of my life, for several years. We are here for you, Sony Ericsson T630.

Cliche as it may be, it seemed like only yesterday when we first met. Me, a mere child, innocent and curious, who had yet to explore the world and understand the truths of the universe. You,
were sent to me, like an angel, at first we were strangers, and since then, we've spent many days constantly by each other's side.

When you were first presented to me, I thought nothing of you. I was brash, and self-assured. I could do everything on my own. I didn't need the help of anyone. In my mind, the world was my oyster. But it was you, your wisdom and your quiet reserve showed me I was utterly wrong. You were the window into my soul. I could see that I had much to learn, and that I would need help along the way, in my journey of life.

As the days trickled past, like a meandering stream through a green meadow under a cloudless brilliant blue sky, you helped me immensely. You showed me the importance of keeping in touch with valued friends. You kept me entertained in times of boredom, with your wide array of games. You were the one that camwhored with me, when no one was willing to do so, condemning me "freak".

However, as the days wore on, like the passage of time, through the seasons of Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter, you reached the winter years of your life as well. You bore many scars across your body, the etchings of wind and weather. And some were, I ashamed to say, the effects of my carelessness, as well as my wrongdoings. Yet you wore your scars with pride, as if they made your life more worth living. The scratches on your face, the worn and faded markings of your family name, the pockmarked surfaces of your body. To you, they were meant to be showed off, reminders of the challenges of life.

Yet, even you couldn't withstand the ravages of time. Your arm became weak and unresponsive, your stamina low, your hearing a fraction of what it used to be. When you no longer responded to my touch, I knew that your time was almost at an end. I didn't want to let you go, but I knew it was for the best, and was the better alternative, as compared to watching your body waste away even further, turning you into a shadow of your once proud self.

Farewell, my dear T630, your life has enriched mine beyond compare, my memories of you will remain forever, in the sweet remembrance of our friendship.

Farewell.

T630, perhaps the greatest gift to me, is the constant reminder of you, through the image of your son, K610im.

The resemblance is uncanny. And he's just like you, follows all your patterns, responds the same way that you do, the only difference is the energy that comes with youth. He is most definitely your son. I look forward to telling him grand stories of our exploits.

Parting can be such sweet sorrow. The wounds will probably never heal, but yet, there is hope. The hope of a better future, and that hope lies, simply, in the children of the world.

A Voyage Into Familiar Territory (Part Two)

2007-03-20T21:50:00.000+08:00

I continue my cookie-cutter post describing my life. However, I'm the mold of my cookie-cutter is somewhat unique. I'm writing about what happened on a Friday. Today is a Tuesday. Chances are, I may have forgotten what happened and just make something up. You wouldn't know the difference anyway. I also happen to have a point at the end of this post. Really.

So anyway, after my OG Outing, I went to play pool with my secondary 4 classmates. When I got to the pool hall, I was greeted with a sight to behold. We had 4 tables, and about 15 people came. Our most successful class outing was held only after we had disbanded. It was interesting to meet up with them after they had adjusted to JC life, and seeing how they had changed, and remained the same. Sean Poh, with his chemically enhanced bosom that could rival even the most well endowed female. His chest seemed to be even bigger than before (if that's possible), no doubt due to his strict regime of workouts, and diet of pure protein. Jared Dass, whose massive ego made him self-delusional, seemed to have an even higher opinion of himself. He told me that he got into RJC through "Sex Appeal" as well as "Handsomeness". Zachary Tay, whom I've sparred with previously in many a lightsabre fight, and had too many conversations with regarding Pokemon, seemed to have lost some of the essence (lameness) of that made him Zachary. However, I believe this is just a temporary lull in his Force Powers, and he will make a quick recovery to power and awesomeness. From what I hear, he's also quite the lady's man in NJC.

What can I say, I've got interesting friends. Oh yea. Albert, Zac, and Sean Poh. You guys owe me money. $5.

So anyway, pool was fun and full of nostalgia. It turned out I wasn't as bad as I thought. Or maybe it's just that my friends suck more than me. What happened next surprised me. I was also supposed to meet a group of Sec2 classmates on the very same day as well. I hadn't planned on actually doing it, but they appeared at the same pool hall that day. The events that next transpired can actually be found on Javier's blog. So if you're interested, go visit his blog and make him feel happy by increasing the counter. It will make him all warm inside.

Don't you dare accuse me of being lazy. He did a satisfactory job, with even photos and videos, so why should I bother to repeat the same things he said? This is called 'Making Good Use Of Your Friends". Come back when you're done. So once the event in Javier's blog unfolded, it was already far too late for me to go home. And I couldn't bear to part with the money required to take a taxi. So I had only one choice left. Stay at my friend's house. He lives in Orchard. Rich kid.

At his house, considering the fact that we were SJI boys, you know what we did. We did gay things. Because we're all gay. Every single one. I can't stress this enough. Because it's true. Go tell all your friends.

I woke up the next morning, finding the friend whom actually lived at the house curled up on the floor, clutching a blanket with shivering fingers, his face close to someone's pair of dirty socks, and myself sharing a bed with one of my friends. It was astounding that both of us could fit on a single bed. I'm round, and he's like 8 feet tall. We can, apparently, bend the laws of physics. One of our secret SJI techniques, I suppose.

I left the company of my friends only in the afternoon.

Friends are an important part of my life. They are an important part of everyone's life. We laugh, we cry, we smile. We enjoy each other's company. We cheer each other on in times of hardship and struggles. We shed tears for each other's losses and downfalls. However, you can't expect to be best friends with everyone. It takes time to develop the bond between friends. Intimacy takes time. I've known my Sec2 classmates for slightly over 4 years, Sec4 classmates for slightly over 2, and OG friends for only a few months. I'm sure you can guess which people I'm closest to in general. There's nothing wrong with any of my friends. They are all good people, with their own quirks that make them special. I'm thankful for all of them.

There are friends with whom you have to organize outings and less than half of them turn up, then there are friends with whom you can just walk up to without saying "hi" or giving any sort of acknowledgment, and just get on with things. Finally, there are friends with whom you can sit with chatting till the buses are no longer running, stay overnight together having no prior arrangements, and share a bed without any awkwardness or hesitation.

A Voyage Into Familiar Territory. (Part One)

2007-03-17T21:01:00.000+08:00

Today marks a milestone in my "career" as a writer. No, I haven't signed any contracts, neither have I sold my soul to corporate investors, nor have I shouted out to the whole world my shallowness and materialism by publicly gloating that I received a free nose job.

I'm not that stupid.

Anyway, I vaguely remember in the past I stated that I wouldn't, to a large extent, talk about my life, because I'm boring. But today is different. I must talk about how I spent Friday 16th March 2007. I simply must. It was exceptional. It was astounding. It was spectacular. Hearing about it will change your life.

Please don't be angry if today's post sucks. I just hate being criticized. I hate it so bad. It makes me hurt inside.

Anyway, I had training in the morning. It started at 830. I reached school at 900. Training was pretty uneventful, except for two things. The first thing was that I learned how to spin and throw the discus. Like the way the pros do it at the Olympics. Except without the obscene shouting and groaning and other noises. And without the distance. It's quite difficult. (I guess I'll talk about this another time. I realize I'm quite long winded.) The second interesting that happened was that we had a "Throwers' Meeting". Our coach is from China, and hence he can only converse fluently in his first language. Unfortunately, his first language isn't my first language. You see, SJI and AC have made me into a person who loves English with an undying and everlasting passion.

I'm the type of person who goes: "HuaYuCool? What does FlowerFishCool mean? Are you high?"

Hence, with my pathetic inability to communicate in my native tongue, combined with the coach's thick Chinese accent, I was rendered utterly clueless. But I do know he wasn't happy. I can see people's faces. I can interpret people's expressions. Later I found out from (I swear this is true. I don't make the stereotypes. I just see them.) my friend who was from RV, that he wasn't scolding us, and that he didn't say anything that we couldn't observe on our own, or didn't already find out for ourselves.

After training, I rushed to Vivocity for my OG outing. It was interesting, to say the least. When I first arrived, there were 5 people, including me. Four of them were girls. I was not. Am not. Will not be. I had to admit, it was somewhat awkward. They would girltalk, I would walk a few paces behind. Trying hard to think about something else. Anything else. They negotiated about where we would have lunch. I stared into space impassively. Contrary to Javier's belief, I'm not fussy.

Fortunately, a guy soon came. Unfortunately, that guy was Elson. For those of you who don't know Elson, he's the stickman in ACJC. He's from SJI as well. So he's weird. And gay. We all are. Because you see, SJI injects every new boy with their special SJI serum. (Don't tell anyone. It's classified information.) It makes us weird. And gay. This is all in our plan for world dominations. We shall be the founding fathers of a magnificent new society. We will topple the oppressive tyrants who dare proclaim themselves defenders of democracy. Onward! For Glory! SJI! SJI! SJI!

It was a sight to behold. Two boys. One was bony and angular, the other, fleshy and curvy.

After that, I'm horrified to admit, we went shopping. It was a harrowing ordeal. 2 guys, following 6 girls around a shopping mall. I did learn several things though. Girls are weird. Some like to hang M&Ms on their ears. Others prefer to have mismatched biscuits dangling from their earlobes, completely unaware of the danger of hungry hobos just running up to them and biting their ears in a desperate quest for stray morsels of food. Some like to wear shoes with belts on them. Don't ask me why. Then there are those who, in their desire to look good, have taken to slaughtering countless mermaids and mermen, for their shiny and reflective scales, to make shoes stained with blood. The blood of fictitious mythical creatures.

I didn't know this, but guys and girls shop differently. For a guy, like a normal guy, not Javier, he will go shopping when he needs to. He goes into a shop, sees something he likes, tries it on, and pays money for it. Simple as that. There are certain variations, including buying things without trying them on, (I'm guilty) or maybe even heading straight for the discount racks.

Girls on the other hand, shop for fun. I cannot comprehend that. They walk around, rifle through the hangers, touch everything, feel the materials, look at the price tag, make comments, and then, walk out.

To stave off the fast approaching insanity that would engulf our minds and turn us into zucchinis, Elson and I came up with ingenious idea. In order to keep the retard sickness at bay, we would act like retards so the retard molecules would think we were already retards and not try and inject us with their retard seedlings which would spawn and multiply and make us into retard drones that are retarded.

Ya. We doed that.

Polka dotted dressed were just old and moldy. Tops became dresses for really short girls. Dresses became singlets for really tall girls, and they needed to be tucked in. Purses turned into pencil cases. Skirts transformed into curtains. And necklaces and bracelets were candy.

Though it may seem unlikely at this time, I do have a point. However, that is for the second part of this post. I remember someone said my posts were too long. This is my solution to it. Cut the essay into half.

Orientation. Wait, Didn't I Do This Before?

2007-03-13T21:15:00.000+08:00

I know I haven't posted an update in a while. I prostrate myself before your shining glory in my futile and pointless attempt to grovel for mercy. You are good and beautiful and wonderful and righteous. I am not worthy.

Yea. I'm sorry. It's just that I have been pretty busy during the past week. JC life is tough and all that. I love being a pity whore.

So, on the 8th and 9th of March ACJC held the second orientation, during which the second intake students would familiarize themselves with their new school, meet new people, and master their "AC Rich Bastard" attitude and look, that apparently, we all possess. The first intake students, (myself included) were also invited back to have a good time, and hence, not have to go for lessons to learn new things and do the things we were supposed to do.

All in all, a pretty decent deal for us.

For those of you who don't know, I did post my thoughts regarding the first orientation previously. If you would like to see it, go look for it yourself. Don't be lazy. When you're done, come back.

Now I think it's pretty obvious what this post is going to be about.

Compared to the first one, second orientation was, I'm sorry to say, a dismal failure. However, I must state that the blame cannot be placed soley on the council or the OGLs. (Orientation Group Leaders. Duh.) Neither can it be placed on me. I'm not evil. I don't go about destroying people's lives. The blame, I have to say, is to be placed upon everyone's shoulders. Everyone, from principal lady that drives a blue BMW to canteen uncle that sells bottled iced milo at $1 each, and new student who was rejected from NJC and sent to ACJC instead.

Second orientation is neither here nor there. For the first intake students, it was just a chance to slack off. Many of us already were already content with the first experience, it was wonderful, something to be remembered forever. Being forced to go through it again was quite pointless, really. As a result of our mandatory participation, we weren't as enthusiastic as we could have been. You know how it is with kids right? Tell them to do something, and they won't. Forbid them to do something, and they freaking hell will do it. What can I say? We're complicated.

For the second intake students, orientation is an incredibly awkward experience. They are thrown into a situation where they are alone, surrounded by a group of people who are relatively close. They are forced to make friends and integrate within a few hours. Many of them have preconceived notions of ACJC, and are desperate to head for, what they believe to be, greener pastures. In my OG, I remember this RV guy with transition lenses, who had a look of absolute glee when his appeal to RJC was successful. Congratulations to him.

The leader people had to do a lot of work for the first Orientation. I could see it in their faces. It must have been really tiring. Having to do the same things for the second one, must have been a struggle. I'm sure they spent hours interrogating themselves.

"Why the hell are you doing this? Stop wasting your time. Don't waste your time caring for these J1 morons. You've got exams coming soon. Flee! Flee like the wind!"

Yes. That's what they would have done.

As a result of all the contributing factors, we ended up with a half-hearted attempt. For example, on the first day, my OG, about 20 people, turned up, but we were more interested in lunchtime. On the second day, about 3 people didn't come. By the middle of the second day, 10 people were left participating in the games. Hooray for our passion.

However, there was a silver lining to this massive cloud. Those who did participate did have fun. Not because of the games, mind you. But because we acted like idiots. And whenever people act like idiots, a good time is guaranteed. We also had a really good time during our dinner break. I don't know why. Maybe it was because it didn't have the feel of an official event. Perhaps the reason was that we were out of school. I have no idea. Don't expect me to know everything.

This second intake business has left me emotionally drained. As you may know, I'm not the most involved person in the world. Angelina Jolie adopting another child from Antarctica isn't really on my priority. It's wonderful that there's a new Nokia phone coming out, go tell your mother. There are some things in this world I just really can't be bothered with. However, there are some things that I do care about, and one of those things are friends. And it's very painful to have them taken away from you. About 8 people, a third of my class, couldn't make it back to ACJC. It's such a shame. I got to know those people, laughed, played, shared, and now I won't get the same chance anymore. Even as things are now, I barely have enough time for myself. Though this may sound cold and abnormal, I would rather have not met them, than to have this happen.

I know this post isn't particularly funny. Give me a break. I'm tired. You can't expect me to be a joker all the time. There are times when I'm boring. But you can expect the next post to be more humorous. I promise.

Oh, Da'yl stone.

$$$

2007-03-04T16:03:00.000+08:00

I was originally going to write a descriptive essay, until I read, in my favorite paper, a wonderful piece of news, that I absolutely must comment on.

However, let me first reiterate the basic points of the article.

"Ministerial, civil service salaries expected to go up"

According to Defense Minister Teo Chee Hean, increase will depend on how far civil servants' pay has lagged behind the private sector, and that salaries will be linked more closely to performance.

There are certain things about this information, and the article itself, that annoy me. Greatly.

First of all, let me say that there definitely people who deserve the pay rise. The first people who come to mind are teachers. (Yes, I'm serious. I'm not sucking up. I highly doubt that any teachers will stumble onto my blog anyway.) Why do I say this? Because teachers have to deal with kids, and sad to say, many kids are pricks. I should know. The students can be very, very, mean. Back in SJI, many of our teachers had been dubbed with nicknames. Unfortunately, the nicknames were more slanted towards being insults and put-downs. I was not mean enough to come up with the names, but I was mean enough to laugh along. Right now, in ACJC, few of our teachers have been christened with new names yet, but I'm sure their time will come. In SJI, we also exploited every single physical and emotional trait of our teachers, and an endless flow of jokes came forth.

So, give them the money. They deserve it. It may offer them solace from the knowledge of their pitiful excuse of an existence.

However, there are civil servants who, I feel, don't really deserve the raise. Those would be ministers and other high-ranking officials. According to the article, services lagging behind the public sector would get a greater pay rise, and one of the services that will get a big raise is the Administrative Service. And it goes without saying, ministries are part of the Administration Service.

Singaporean ministers are one of the highest paid in the world. Really. For example, George Bush gets paid about $400,000 USD per year. While a Singaporean minister is about $800,000 USD per year. That figure, is of course, for lower ranked ministers, one would expect the prime minister to be paid more. What this tells me, is that Singaporeans think that our ministers have a job that's at least twice as important as that of George Bush. Hmm.

One reason for this, given to us unworthy peasants, is that the civil service must be competitive, so as to attract those who are "talented" and "elite" to come work for them. Nonsense. A civil servant should have the passion to work for the people, and for the good of his country. He shouldn't be focused on how he himself will benefit from his line of work. There are people, whom are able to work for charities, doing noble work for free, and not consider their compensation. That's what our minister's should be like. Willing and able to work. There aren't many people out there like that, but hey, there aren't that many openings for ministers as well. I'm not saying the ministers should work for free, just for an amount suitable for the importance and skill required for the job.

Another reason given is that they need to be given a high pay to prevent corruption. It removes the temptation of stealing people's money and doing other bad bad things. You can see how well that works, with TT Durai and the rest of the NKF crew. That I understand completely, but do they really need to be paid such disproportionate amount? SGD$1,200,000 is a lot of money. That's about $100,000 a month. That's about $3,000 a day. I don't even know how one can spend that much money. I honestly don't. It must be nice having to think of creative ways to spend your own money.

"Oh dear! I've got a spare grand lying around. Anyone up to buying bottles of wine and throwing them in the ocean?"

If I was at their age, and earned one-fifth of their salary, I wouldn't be very disappointed.

Yet, our ministers see it fit to raise their salary further.

That's not the only problem I have. The way information is conveyed to the general public infuriates me. The government has done it numerous times. They release information in stages, depending on the situation and timing. For example, they told us about the progress package, which was, to be fair, giving our own money back to us, just a few days before Election Day 2006. Nothing unscrupulous or conscienceless, of course. They did it again, when they told us about the GST Hike only after the elections, and claimed that they only thought about it from the day after elections, and they had absolutely no intention of doing it beforehand. The most recent time they did it was regarding this issue, when they told us that civil servants would get a pay rise, only after the big hoo-hah over the GST issue had died down.

But fortunately, there are people like me, the purveyors of truth, seekers of justice, and champions of all that is sweet and juicy, who like to criticize others. Tremble in the shadow of my self-righteousness! Gaze with awe upon my cape of ego! Worship the soles of my sandals of tranquility!

So anyway, GST is collected from the people right? And the money goes to the government right? And civil servants work for the government right? And civil servants are getting a pay raise right? And ministers are civil servants right?

So, basically, we're paying more GST so that our various ministers can buy that 2nd or 3rd chauffeur-driven BMW that they so desperately need.

I'm not done yet. It also really irritates me that we, the people of Singapore, aren't given any say in this issue. None at all. Let's be clear, people who work for the government are civil servants. Since we (okay, my parents) pay taxes, I can come to the conclusion that Lee Hsien Loong works for me. So, in that case, since I'm the employer, I should be in charge right?
However, Singapore's servants aren't really treated like servants, in fact, it's more like the other way around. I mean, honestly, don't the citizens get a say at all? The way things are right now, its like having your maid telling you how much you're gonna pay her.

And what the hell happened to democracy? I don't know, but having someone tell you how things are going to be, and that you WILL accept it and be joyful and frolic in the meadow doesn't sound all that democratic to me. In fact, I would say it sounds, I don't know, more like fascism or a dictatorship.

If tomorrow, you read in the newspaper, that an ACJC student was run over by a brand new BMW, you will know why.

Farewell.

ACS Founder's Day and The Straits Times

2007-03-01T21:09:00.000+08:00

Two seemingly unrelated topics.

Yet, an exhilarating tale involving these two intertwined entities is about to unfold before your very eyes!

Not really. It's just that I have two topics today.

First of all, Founder's Day. It is an unspoken rule that These sort of events are meant to be borings. (Might I add, ACJC demonstrated its excellence in this discipline.) They aren't meant to be fun or interesting. They are mere formalities. Nobody wants to be there. Nobody. Not the Principal Kelvyna Chan. Not the ACS OBA GUY. (I wonder. Assuming that OBA stands for Old Boy's Association, then what do the girls join? SJI also had an OBA, but they did not have this problem.) Not even the Guest-of-Honour, Dr. Vivian Balamynameiswaytoolong. Minister of Something-Or-Other, and Second Minister Of Something-Else-Or-Other.

Founder's Day is, in a word, demoralizing. It serves the sole purpose of making me feel like a failure. The image of people much better than me in any conceivable way is branded onto my retinas, charred reminders of my inadequacies. People with 9 distinctions for A levels. People who's lives were spent doing noble, thankless work. Ministers who earn much more money than I ever will. I, however, can find solace in one fact. Many of these overachieves will die alone. Really. They will be surrounded by immeasurable wealth, fancy cars, luxurious mansions, diamond-studded watches. But they will still die alone. Nobody wants to be with someone who is so damn good.

How do I know no one enjoys things like Founder's Day? For one thing, quite a large percentage of the college population was nowhere to be seen today. On the way to school today, while past the entrance of the school,I heard a snippet of a girl's conversation with a friend on her cellphone. It went something like this.

"Let's skip Founder's Day."

I could only hear one side of the conversation.

Said girl then proceeded to walk back out of the gate, embracing the freedom and reveling in the joy known as not going to school. What puzzles me is why said girl decided to wake up early in the morning at 6 a.m, put on the school uniform, travel from home to school, and only after all that's said and done, decide not to go to school.

Perhaps you are wondering now, why is it that with my visible dislike of Founder's Day, that I decided to go to school on this day. I have a very good reason. After Founder's Day, I had to be at a meeting in school. Of course, the meeting only lasted about five minutes.

However, I did learn a lesson from this ordeal.

Next year I'm going to fall ill on the 1st of March.

The Straits Times.

Indulge me, once again, if you will. Take today's copy of The Straits Times. Flip to page 3. Look at the article. Laugh.

It appears that The Straits Times is full of comedians. The article states that ST has won several prestigious awards for their newspaper. After having gained your respect, they then proceed to lose all of it when you go on to read and find out that the awards were given by Singapore Press Holdings. For those of you who don't know, SPH prints the ST.

SPH giving the ST an award is like having me say: This year's prestigious Tan Deyong Foundation award for best Tan Deyong goes to... Tan Deyong!

Utter nonsense.

However, fret not, for the other SPH papers also won awards. New Paper, Chinese Morning Paper, Chinese Evening Paper, Tamil Paper, and Malay Paper. They all got something.

So, it's all good.

The Straits Times. Trash or Treasure?

2007-02-25T21:21:00.000+08:00

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.

Chinese New Year?

2007-02-20T14:15:00.000+08:00

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.

My Deepest Apologies

2007-02-15T20:42:00.000+08:00

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.

Deprivation!

2007-02-08T20:49:00.000+08:00

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.

Have You No Shame?

2007-02-04T22:05:00.000+08:00

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.

Pointless Panicking Puts People in Potentially Precarious Positions.

2007-02-01T19:52:00.000+08:00

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.

I Feel So... Not Good.

2007-01-28T18:32:00.000+08:00

I don't know whether I can keep blogging at the rate I'm going. JC level education is quite a bit tougher than Secondary school education. It's true that we're given more freedom, which I really enjoy, but we are also given more work, which I don't enjoy.

One thing that really gets me is the subject matter. PCME, in the right hands, can be very interesting, unfortunately for me, it isn't. Few, if any, of my teachers make the subjects they teach intriguing or exciting. They seem to lack passion for their work. I'm not saying teaching is an easy job, and it's definitely not easy to be passionate about teenagers who have no thirst for knowledge or desire to learn.

Furthermore, I really dislike the way lessons are conducted. For those of you who don't know, lessons are conducted in a Lecture/Tutorial fashion, meaning the teachers will give a lecture, and bore 100s of students at a time, and when the lecture is over, and no one has learned anything, the students will then have tutorials, this time they get bored by another teacher repeating the topic, only in groups of 20, where they don't learn anything. AGAIN. Lectures are a horrible way to teach. Imagine this. Large, cool, air-conditioned room with comfortable chairs. Unmotivated, sleepy, lazy students. Teacher, monotonous voice, dull subject, talking, 80 MINUTES. ( Oh God, just kill me. Stab me in the eye with a rusty screwdriver.) Do you think the students will learn well?

I thought not.

So anyway, because of that, students go home everyday feeling incredibly drained. They don't want to think, to write, or to work anymore. They just want to swallow some food, get cleaned up, and flop onto their beds. That's how they feel. That's how I feel. However, instead of getting to do that, I'm forced to write some mathematical crap that has nothing to do with my life. I don't see how binomial theorems will have any significant impact on my future as a young man. I just feel so mentally drained. That's why these days, I'm finding it quite difficult to think, write, or express my opinions. I just don't feel like doing it anymore. Should I escape from it all?

Right now I'm having a severe case of writer's block. I just can't think straight. I don't have the inspiration to talk about current affairs, my ideas, music or anything else. Notice how this post has a major lack of focus, poor language, not to mention having absolutely no point? I don't even know what I'm writing. These are just the rants and raves of an insane 16 year old. I'm not even going to bother to check the grammar and spellings.

Sometimes I wish I was stupid. I know that sounds stupid, but hear me out. Stupidity will set your mind free. I mean, consider this for a moment. Ignorance is bliss. Ever hear that statement? I believe it. Let's just say I have the mental capacity to live, and just do some menial job. I won't be able to have deep thought. I wouldn't be rich, I would live alone. Everyday I would go to work, survive on my meager income, and just pass the days by. Yes, the bliss may be built on a foundation of lies and self-deception, but if you're stupid, you wouldn't be aware of it right?

I know I should consider myself to be really lucky, and I truly and honestly do. I live in a nice house, with a nice family. I don't have to worry about my next meal or surviving the night. I have many friends, people who care about me. I suffer from no illnesses. I have much to live for. I guess everyone will just have moments of weakness.

Today's post is total crap.

Sorry for being so emo.

I don't know what's wrong with me.

Hopefully this is just a passing phase.

#2. Ancient History

2007-01-25T20:15:00.000+08:00

Okay. I admit it. I'm an attention whore. I need to be the main attraction. I crave the adoration of screaming fans and the hysterical cheers of overly enthusiastic supporters. That's why it is such a torturous feeling, not knowing how many people read my blog. I need to know whether 5 or 500 people pay attention to me. I would rather than know the cold hard truth than fill my mind with delusions of grandeur.

So, read my blog. Cause my counter to count. Make me feel warm and happy inside.

Anyway, here's today's completely and utterly pointless piece of trivia.

Native Americans aren't actually native to their land. If you take a look at any world map, you would realize that Europe, Africa, Asia, and even Australia are somewhat interconnected. (You could island hop from say, Indonesia to Australia.) So, if a primitive caveman was feeling rather bored, he could, theoretically, walk from France to China. So, my point is, there wasn't any real means for which caveman could go to the Americas.

There weren't exactly many Trans-Atlantic ships about 20,000 years ago. Neither was there an over-abundance of airplanes back then. So the Americas were unpopulated by humans. Then, came the ice age hit. So everything became really cold. The coldness made water turn to ice, so many of the world's water bodies froze. The Bering Strait was one such feature that froze. The Bering Strait is basically a narrow body of water that links two land masses. It connects the easternmost point of Asia to the westernmost of America. So with the Bering Strait frozen, it had essentially created a massive ice bridge from Asia to America. Alright! So, some really really REALLY bored primitive men and women decided they had nothing better to do that to walk across the Bering Strait in freezing cold weather with nothing but dead animal skins to protect themselves. Hence, the first Native Americans came to be.

This may come as a shock, but I actually have a point in this post. You know how Chinese people (alright, basically all Asian people in general) have this thing where they like to migrate to other countries in search of better living conditions? Asian people are EVERYWHERE! So, what I'm trying to say is, this tendency could have been passed down through thousands of years from the cavemen, who were our ancestors. Maybe the primitive caveman was being badly treated, maybe he was always hungry, or he didn't have anyone to pleasure him. As a result, he decided to run away to a new land were food scarcity was not an issue, a place where he could have many sex partners.

Don't believe me? Have you seen any Native Americans recently? Don't they look Asian to you?

Did I just blow your mind?

A Time and Place For Apathy.

2007-01-21T16:55:00.000+08:00

I know this may seem like an ironic statement, coming from me. [Sidetrack! (wow, getting sidetracked after the first sentence, how sad.) Anyway, did you notice how I used my wit and cleverness to work a pun into my blog title address thingy? I am the Apathetic Avenger, however, you would know, someone who doesn't care about things wouldn't be a very good avenger. Hence, Apathetic Avenger can also be read as A Pathetic Avenger! Woohoo! My intelligence brings so much happiness. Yay for me! Alright, I'm done.] But this is how I really feel. I'm not saying that you should give everything in this world your fullest attention. I'm urging everyone to care about things that are important, not about things like what your friend did on Friday at 11pm while at her hot boyfriend's house. Pay attention things that affect your lives, things that are of actual significance.

It's amazing how seemingly minor events that occur halfway across the planet can have such major effects on us. Don't believe me? Allow me to illustrate. Let's say oil supplies decrease worldwide. Because supply decreases, while demand goes up, prices go up. (Oh yea, I rock at Economics!) Hence, in order for your Dad to continue driving to work so that he can make enough money to provide you with shelter and food, he has to scrimp and save for petrol, and is now unable to buy you that overpriced Crumpler bag (which is basically less than $10 worth of fabric, plastic, and velcro) that you so desperately desire. Now your life is incomplete as the Crumpler bag was your only means of upgrading your social status en route to becoming popular and cool, and you're now forced to hang out with losers and freaks.

How about a little something closer to home? Nicoll Highway collapsed in late 2004, due to some happenings that were hidden from public view. It results in the tragic deaths of four people. Those who were responsible for the collapse were given a light slap on the wrist, a small fine. So, because of that, now the completion of the Circle Line Mrt service has been pushed back to 2010. This affects you greatly, since you study at ACJC, and need to go to Ang Mo Kio to take a bus home, you are now forced to travel in one massive circle, instead of having a direct train from Buona Vista to AMK. You take one and a half hours to travel home from school everyday. When you reach home, you're too tired to do any work. You cry yourself to sleep at night, cursing the heavens for you ill-fated existence.

So, I hope that would convince you to take notice about Current Affairs. I guess it's good in a way that JC students are forced to take GP. So it's pretty much, "CARE! Or you fail!". Better to force someone to do something unwillingly than to let the rot their lives away. A most effective way of convincing others, I must say, especially, considering we are in kiasu Singapore, where kids put grades first, and learning the very last. Anyway, I think it's important to read our beloved Straits Times, but it's also important to take everything with a pinch of salt. Read between the lines. (Not literally, I'm not saying stare at the blank white space between the words.) Understand the facts, come up with your own thought process, and make your own inferences. Don't take everything at face value. For example. I will tell you that The Straits Times is a state-controlled newspaper, and that it is the only English language newspaper in Singapore. (I don't consider The New Paper or Today to be newspapers, more like... shit.) What does my statement tell you?

I also think we should embrace other non-traditional forms of media, such as the internet. Forums, personal websites, and even blogs can contain lots of information that is worth reading. However these jewels are hidden amongst vast quantities of absolute rubbish. There is this forum, which I regularly visit. It is concerned mostly with local issues. There are a fair number of clones and trolls and idiots that post there, but a lot of the content is rather deep and quite interesting. I don't post much there, I go there mostly to read, and to get opinions from the other side of Singapore's fence. I would post the link in my blog, except I don't want to be put on the PAP's blacklist at the tender age of 16. Contact me if you want the link. (It's not a pornographic website, mind you. Perverts.) Another website that I do visit is this one. This writer is, I'm sad to admit, much more mature and deep than I am. Fortunately, he's not as funny. His articles are insightful, his arguments clear, his language concise. He is also homosexual, as he stated in his biography. So I do find his articles do offer a fresh point of view, something that I'm not so familiar with. I should also state, that his website contains issues about homosexuality, so if you're closed-minded, keep away.

Remember that first movie in that trilogy with the rotating special effects? Remember what the bald black guy who wore shiny leather clothes said to the hero guy? There is the red pill, and the blue pill. Would you prefer to be blissfully unaware of what goes on behind your back, or would you rather embrace the truth, and get the full picture?

Which would you choose?

#1

2007-01-18T21:21:00.000+08:00

Now that I've begun school once again, I once again have little free time. As a result, this blog, which was created during the holidays to do away with my boredom won't be updated quite as often. So I've decided, henceforth, to begin posting mini updates, such as this, possibly every Thursday. They will contain anything, thoughts, facts, jokes. Basically anything that I won't be able to develop into a 900 word essay, story or rant. I won't bother posting updates on my MSN Messenger, because I don't consider it an update if it takes 2 minutes to read.

So, without further ado.

In the years leading to World War II, Nazi Germany was planning to seek revenge on the Allied Nations. Being the mature, responsible, level-headed Nazis they were, they decided the way to do that was to beat the crap out of the Allied forces. To do that, they needed to increase the size of their army. As a result, the Nazi's decided to start training boys from a really young age to become soldiers in the future, which they decided to do by creating an organization where boys get to do manly stuff. In other words, NCC for Aryans.

The name of the organization was Pimpf.

The Various And Wonderfully Dissimilar Forms Of Deyong

2007-01-14T11:56:00.000+08:00

I'm sure at some point in your life, you would've uttered the phrase "That guy, he's quite a character!" at least once. Now, if you have indeed made that statement before, then I would have to assume that you made the assumption that people's characteristics are fairly constant. Meaning, that the way someone acts in general has been decided the day he or she was conceived, and that the nature of the person can be easily predicted based on past behavior. So an annoying prick will always be an annoying prick. However, I would tell you that this assumption is not at all correct, and in having thought it to be correct, you have made an ASS of U and ME.

It may be true that a person's basic character will always be the same, as in, an honest person will usually be honest. However, there are many factors, such as surroundings, time, mood, weather, and situation, that can drastically alter the way a person may speak or act. For example, a generally congenial and friendly person may become irritable due to the weather.

I myself, know that my personality can vary greatly. It's a strange phenomenon, but it's pretty cool. Thus, I have come to the pointless point of this post. With this post, I hope to keep detailed observations and records of the various forms of Deyong that exist, all of course, for the greater good of humankind. I require no recognition for my noble work, my only desire is that it is not used for wrongdoings.

"Normal" Deyong

"Normal" Deyong is the Deyong that we all know and love. However, he is not at all normal, in fact, he is somewhat of a weirdo, after all, he did spend 4 years at SJI. He enjoys good jokes, and making fun of Javier. He is pretty much a nice guy. "Normal" Deyong is incredibly witty, smart, clever, intelligent, and mature. He is also very modest. At times, he is lazy, and likes to take his own sweet time.

Homosexual Deyong

This Deyong does not exist. He never did, and he never will.

Chao Ang Mor Deyong

Chao Ang Mor Deyong is a minor derivative of "Normal" Deyong. He is somewhat of an enigma, some say he exists, others say he is nothing but a myth. Rumors are, he was created, in all of the places, Japan. The story goes that "Normal" Deyong was studying at an international school in Tokyo, which was based on an American system. Everyone there spoke with an American accent, and being the Singaporean Chinese that he was, Deyong had a strong longing and desire to find acceptance. He did this through careful mimicry of tone and structure of their spoken language. Over time, Deyong was so fluent and natural with his American accent, that Chao Ang Mor Deyong was born. Chao Ang Mor Deyong has the same basic characteristics of "Normal" Deyong, only he speaks with a distinct cosmopolitan American accent.

Now that Deyong is back in Singapore, this form has gone back into hiding, waiting for its chance to spring back to life. It has been said that this form will only appear if the conditions are right, such as if a white guy is present, or if Deyong visits a foreign country. Sightings of this reclusive creature are highly irregular.

Shy Deyong

Shy Deyong is a very under utilized form. Appearances are rare, and when they do occur, they do not last long. Shy Deyong is a defense mechanism that was created in order for "Normal" Deyong to deal with the traumatic experience of meeting new people. Shy Deyong does not talk much, he basically just sits and listens. He is completely uninteresting and is never well received.

As of this moment, Deyong is in the phase of transforming from Shy to "Normal" form.

Lustful Deyong

This form was created shortly after Deyong began the process of becoming a man. Fortunately, "Normal" Deyong has the willpower to keep Lustful Deyong in check. As of now, Lustful Deyong is completely powerless and docile. This was done in order for Deyong to concentrate on his studies, so that next time he can get a good job and make tons and tons of cash. The next expected return of Lustful Deyong would be in 2011, shortly after "Normal" Deyong finishes NS.

Prone-to-Aggression Deyong

This is another trigger-based form. Deyong will only take this form should he be repeatedly provoked or distracted by some minor annoyance. Once in this form, Deyong will be consumed with his rage, and just beat the crap out of whatever the hell may be disturbing him. Common triggers include Zhao Loong, annoying pricks, and stupidity.

These are the current known researched and documented forms of Deyong. If there are any new sightings or discoveries, please inform the Society of Archiving Deyong's Life (SADLife) immediately. Thank you.

Of Cheesy Cheers and Disgraceful Dances

2007-01-07T13:41:00.000+08:00

Okay. By now, I'm sure those of you who have read the previous posts of my blog would have realized that it's somewhat different from the millions of other blogs managed by those intelligent enough to operate a mouse and keyboard. To a large extent, I don't talk about my life. The reason for this is simple. It's not because I want to be different and special, neither is it because I want to be a rebel, and it's most definitely not because I like to stir up trouble and piss people off. Simply, the reason is that, well, I think my life is boring. To be truthful, I find pretty much everyone's life to be uninteresting. Indeed. Let's be honest. Having to read about other people going to school, watching movies, and eating lunch is a tedious task. There are, of course, exceptions to this. George Bush would be one of them, but from what I hear of his intelligence, I would prefer a third-hand account.

So, today, in the spirit of spontaneity, I will try something different. I'm going to try to write about my boring life, and make seem interesting, so that even total strangers would start to care about my insignificant existence. Hidden somewhere in the midst my fluffy language and long long LONG introduction, my basic point is: I'm trying something new, it might suck. Don't be pissed.

Let's begin. On Wednesday I started a new term of school at a new school. Since I was/am a Josephian, one would expect me to go to CJC. However, for reasons unknown even to myself, I chose to go to ACJC. Thus begins a portion of my life, where there are many fascinating changes. I was formerly at the top of the totem pole in SJI, but now in ACJC, I've become the lowly piece of crap at the bottom. Furthermore, I don't know where anything is, I have only about 20 other SJI boys who followed in my path, and I'm surrounded by faces that I don't recognize.

Boring speeches began my Orientation. You know the kind. The kind where the more polite members of the audience will stare at the speaker, glassy-eyed, with only little snippets of information being remembered, others will shake their legs and give out sighs of exasperation. Those who just don't care take advantage of the air-con to get several valuable minutes of shut-eye, some with heads tilted slightly forward, with slow steady breathing, while others have their heads rolled back, snoring conspicuously. The events that followed were even more.. awkward. We were split up into smaller groups of 20. Relatively smaller, considering there were nearly 900 J1s. What followed was a lot of staring at feet, fidgeting, arms scratching, and other displays of general discomfort. Now, I know I'm not really great at making new friends instantly, so I keep kinda quiet until I get accustomed to my surroundings. However, I was further silenced by another fact. There were so many girls around. My SJI brain couldn't comprehend it. I was like, "Wow, I didn't know so many girls existed". It's sad, but four years at a boys school has made me into a n00b.

Okay, even I can tell this post is getting boring. Let's skip ahead to the juicy bits. So we feel shy, play games together, cheer together, suddenly we become more open and more like our usual selves. Yay. So anyway, one thing I found out about ACJC, is that they really enjoy cheering. I mean, they really do. During orientation, we play games. Before we play a game, we cheer. After the game is over, we cheer. After all that's done, we go for mass cheer.

I don't think I'll be able to speak properly ever again.

At first, I wasn't really all that into cheering. That is probably because I'm somewhat of a prick. But after a while, I just realized I should make the best of any situation. Throwing caution to the wind, with my newfound attitude, and the "When in Rome" mentality, I just began to cheer. At first, I felt like a moron. This was due, in part, no doubt, to some of the inane lyrics I was chanting with my fellow ACSian. (Sidetrack, it's pronounced ACK-xi-ian. Or something like that.) Here is an excerpt.

F-I-R-E! We're so hot we make you pee!

I told you.

Anyway, after a while, I came to the conclusion, that there are times when a person should act like a moron. And that, was exactly what I did. Shout. Leap in the air. Dance. What a sight it was. A sea of 900 young adults acting like high idiotic freaks. This has taught me that perhaps, just perhaps, you can get anyone to do just about anything, if you're able to get an apathetic avenger to scream random crap voluntarily.

Another part of the Orientation was the Mass Dance. Apparently, many JCs in Singapore have decided that they would like to further embarrass and make orientation even more awkward than it already was. Thus, they decided the best way to do so, would be to force all the JC1s to dance together in one mass. (Hence, mass dance) First, they would have to dance alone, and when they thought that the humiliation would end there, they would be in for the shock of their lives! They would then be made to dance in pairs, one guy, and one girl. (This is no longer SJI. Thank God.) Now, this experience has taught me another very important life lesson. The lesson is that I have zero ability in body movement. It is only by sheer luck and the grace of god that I'm able to walk without falling flat on my face. Most of you probably think I'm just exaggerating for effect, but, I'm not. Sure, I can remember the steps, I can memorize. But when I try to replicate the moves I've been taught, its like, pain. The souls of millions of dancers scream out in agony, their minds tortured by the sight of my grotesque moves.

Orientation ends in smoke and flames. LITERALLY! We have a campfire. (It's a joke, a sad one, but still a joke.) The campfire is a pretty standard, where we sing songs and do more cheering. It was pretty fun, except for one unfortunate part. One of the events, was an imitation of the popular TV show "Whose Line Is It Anyway?", but only, not funny. You can't expect comedy from non-comedians. Students were picked at random, and expected to come up with some hilarious skit right then and there. You can't teach this sort of thing. Some have it, some don't. It's a skill. Like dancing.

The final event of the campfire, was of course, the mass dance. As we were about to begin, I cringed. I just wanted to get it over with. The music starts. After a few moments, I came upon a wonderful sight. Many other people were just as bad, if not worse, than I was. Alright! I don't suck that much! After that, I began to actually enjoy the dance. After the song ended, it was repeated again. I smiled.

Alright. That's the end. It may seem rather long, but remember, it contains 4 days worth of information squeezed into a 10minute essay. This isnt't my best work, but considering the material I had to work with, I would like to think I did a pretty good job.

Go ACJC.

New Year's Day.

2006-12-31T22:47:00.000+08:00

As I write this, its not quite New Year's Day yet. One would expect me to be wearing some stupid party hat, half-empty bottle of vodka in my hand, writhing around in some primitive form of dance, amongst a gyrating mass of sweaty fragrant young people, as we play in foam, counting down the minutes. However, I do not feel any sense of elation or joyousness. On the contrary, I feel a sense of indifference. Put rather crudely, I don't give a damn. I am, after all, the apathetic avenger. This lack of interest is a vast contrast to the state of mind others may be in as of this moment.

People dance around. Sing. Count drunkenly. Yay. Dance some more. Sing badly off-key. Drink more. Count backwards. 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... Woo. Loud noises. Annoying piercing screams. Frenzied jumping. Stare at the sky. See fireworks. Keep dancing. Become tired. Go home. Sleep.

One is expected to be at least somewhat interested in the coming of a New Year. But no matter how hard I try, I can't help but feel there is no reason to celebrate. Interesting sidetrack, did you know that New Year's Day wasn't always celebrated on the 1st of January? In like, medieval Europe, the 1st of April was New Year's Day. Essentially, it was the Old New Year's Day. Laugh. But then in like mid 1500s, the French wanted to screw with everyone, and changed New Year's Day to the one that we use today. As a result April Fool's Day was also born. This is how it started. On the 1st of April, mid 1500s + 1 year, this peasant, who forget that the French King wanted to screw with everyone, said to his fellow peasant, "Happy New Year!". The fellow French peasant, being the prick that he was, proceeded to point, and laugh, at his ignorant peasant friend, and said, "Haha! New Year's Day was 4 months ago! You suck! n0013!!!11!!!!11!!!eleven! You're such a fool!". Yes, that was how it began.

Anyway, back on topic. I find celebrating New Year's Day to be... ludicrous. It's a new year. Big deal. It doesn't have any special meaning. If I wanted to be especially calculating, I would say "Years were created as a method to simplify the telling of time. After all, the only thing a year signifies is the time it takes the Earth to revolve around the Sun, 365.25 days. So, we say, the first time I tried smoking was about 4 years ago, instead of, the first time I tried smoking was about 1461 days ago. Much simpler, isn't it?" Yes, that was what I would say if I wanted to be especially calculating. But I'm not, so I won't.

Now, I don't mind at all if someone told me that they thought of the New Year as just another excuse to party, to have a good time, to be surrounded by friends and family, to be happy, I wouldn't mind. If fact, I would think they were making a good decision. But it's when people tell me things, foolish things, like the New Year represents "whole new possibilities", "turning over a new leaf", "new beginnings" or some other hocus pocus mumbo jumbo, I get annoyed. Very annoyed. That's bullshit. A new year doesn't signify anything. It's just another day. Some people will be very annoyed with what I say. "New Year is a time when you make resolutions and make yourself a better person! Stupid!

I would reply, once again, with "That's bullshit.". Yes. Why must you make new year resolutions? Why can't you make June 23rd resolutions? Why not September 14th resolutions? Are you only allowed to think of improvements to yourself once in 365 days? If you can think of things to improve, must you wait until 1st of January to start? Don't make excuses for laziness. If you want to do something, do it.

See the true meaning of New Year's Day. An inane reason, but a reason nonetheless, to have a public holiday. As I finish this post, a new year has begun. Crap, now I must remember to write 2007 instead of 2006 for dates. I always forget.

Merry Christmas... I guess...

2006-12-25T12:08:00.000+08:00

I'm not particularly excited about today being Christmas. To me, it just seems that people have forgotten about the true meaning of this holiday. This seems especially sad, given that I'm not even Christian. Perhaps I should begin by describing the way I celebrate Christmas. Up until the eve of Christmas, my family does nothing. Absolutely nothing. If you came to my house on the 23rd of December, and again on, say, the 6th of April, you wouldn't be able to find any differences between the two. Then on the eve of Christmas, the magic begins. My entire family is dragged into this frenzied whirlwind of preparations, where we are forced to do cleaning that we had put off for many weeks, set up tables and chairs, and prepare lots and lots of food. The stress of having a party for forty over people has various strange and wonderful effects on the members of my family. It's rather interesting to watch, but that's a story for another time. Anyway, so we have the party. Eat, socialize, eat some more. Clean up, go to sleep. The next day, on Christmas day itself, our lives go on normally.

So, in short, my Christmas celebration can be summed up simply. It's all about food. Honestly. Christmas, for us, is just an excuse (a very good one) to have very good food. The birth of Christ is great, it is. But I think there are more than enough people celebrating it for him around the world. So, what is my point in telling you about my Christmas? I'm not really sure.

(Oh yes! Now I remember. It is meant to get a reaction from all my clever witty cool handsome pretty beautiful readers. Now you are meant to condemn me for my lack of Christmas spirit. You now list all the things that I should do, like setting up a tree, buying presents, santa claus, because after all, is it not Christmas?)

But, I must tell you, many of these Christmas "traditions" actually have nothing to do with Christmas. Christmas is celebrating the birth of Christ, so how did pine trees, reindeer, and buying presents, get involved? The involvement of trees with Christmas is actually a Christian adaptation of pagan tradition and ritual surrounding the Winter Solstice and pagan tree worship. Modern use of trees began in 18th century Germany, then spread around Europe to France, Belgium, England. It then spread to the USA. Since the USA is the center of the world, this tradition is now continued by billions of people around the world, who learn from the great and wise America.

Santa Claus was based on St. Nicholas, however, his amazing reindeer that can fly and pull a massive sled filled with billions of toys were created in the poem "A Visit From St. Nicholas". The poem is the one responsible for forming the general conception of Santa Claus and his relations to Christmas and all the good stuff. However, the most famous reindeer of all, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, was CREATED by the American department store Montgomery Ward in 1939.

Gift giving was originally related to St. Nicholas, but had very little to do with Christmas, until "A Visit From St. Nicholas". But commercialism, greed, and capitalism has caused what was once a meaningful gesture to metamorphose into a retailers eyes alight with glee rubbing theirs together in delight while calculating their earnings, pushing and shoving in crowded malls buying crap for people you don't even like, wrapping up heaps of presents with colorful paper and tying little bow ties while trying to write some forced message of love and joy in a small card kind of event.

So what have I done with this post? Destroyed Christmas forever? Caused little children to weep with despair? Made enemies with every single retailer in the world? Perhaps none, perhaps all three. But, I would just like to say, that Christmas shouldn't be about materialistic things. You don't have to spend money buying trees or presents to enjoy it. Christmas can be about family, friends, food, kind gestures, charity, togetherness. All the good stuff. It's what you make of it.

Merry Christmas.

The Beatles: Love

2006-12-21T13:31:00.000+08:00

I recently bought Love, the new album by The Beatles.

Okay, that was a lie. It's not that I downloaded it. I paid $20 for it, and I would say it was money well spent. But Love is not the new album by The Beatles, because they haven't made a new album in over 30 years. Why? Well, thats probably because two of them are dead. Instead this album is a compilation of their old songs, produced by George Martin, who did work on pretty much all of the Beatles' albums, and his son, Giles.

I would like to assume that everyone knows The Beatles. I mean, they are only the most the most commercially successful band in history. Everyone must've heard "Yesterday" or "I Want To Hold Your Hand" at least once in their life. For those of you who delve into the lives of celebrities, you would have read about Paul McCartney's divorce from his wife, Heather, and the big hoo-hah over their private affairs.

Anyway, the album has been done so that it sounds as though its one long massive track. Many of the songs have been remixed, they take one part of a song as insert it into another song, creating something different, yet familiar, to the millions of fans around the world. The album contains songs that span the entire decade long career of The Beatles, and as such, it is a good introduction to those who have never heard them before. This album was created to be listened to from start to finish, and it is an exceedingly good experience. Some may feel that since The Beatles were from the previous generation, and the fact that our parents listened to their music, to be off-putting. But, take a chance, just give them a listen, and I'm sure you will find yourself pleasantly surprised.

SM Goh : Rename Our Streets.

2006-12-18T22:59:00.000+08:00

For those of you who are bored out of your minds, you would have probably read in our local papers about SM Goh Chok Tong suggestion to have several roads named after minor colonial officials changed to honour Singapore's pioneers instead. "Those names really had not much significance for future Singaporeans. For another generation of Singaporeans or two generations from here, I think those names would have very little meaning," said Mr Goh.

Okayyy, but, what makes him think that future generations of Singaporeans will find meaning in Singapore's pioneers? Maybe he's out of touch with the youth of our nation, being like old and all. I guess he doesn't know this, but teenagers, the future of our nation, the ones who will raise Singapore to greater glory, the pride and joy of our hardworking parents, don't really care about anything, other than ourselves. To us, life is just a potpourri of Crumpler bags, movies, overpriced cellphones, bitching about others, and billabong (interesting sidetrack. Billabong actually refers to a part of a river, where it leads to a dead-end channel. It is not some word made up by pot-smoking beer-drinking Aussie surfer dudes after a night of putting shrimp on the barbi, while wrestling crocs and calling each other "mate".) Sad, but very true. How do I know about the degree of our apathy? Just ask your average teenager, "What are your thoughts on Temasek's takeover of ShinCorp?". Be prepared for a stunned look, with perhaps slack jaws or wide eyes for added effect. So, my point is, that teenagers, to put in bluntly (and in our crude language), don't give a shit about our road names.

The thing is, I feel that none of our street names have any meaning or significance at all. To me they are just places, however, it's the memories that took place at the specific locations that conjure up feelings. Like "Oh that's Changi Village, where I had my first, of many, sexual encounters with men. (not true)", or "******* Road, where I go to buy Ecstacy (also not true)". In the past road names had meanings. Orchard Road was called Orchard Road because it was full of orchards. (Surprising, isn't it?) Beach Road was next to the beach, and Dhoby Gaut was where people went to do laundry. What about now? Orchard Road and Dhoby Gaut are big shopping centres, and Beach Road is the centre for buying army crap.

Changing road names is an impractical idea. A few of you will remember when our pragmatic government hired some FT (Foreign Talent) to rename Marina Bay. In the end, at the fair price of $400,000, they renamed Marina Bay... Marina Bay. Now, imagine if they had actually renamed it something else, it would have been SO much more trouble! (Not to mention cost our pragmatic government much more money) Not only that, it would wreak havoc among taxi drivers and travel guides and tour agencies. Imagine the chaos. Taxi drivers driving around in circles, foaming at the mouth, lost in Toa Payoh, which has been renamed LKY Road. Construction workers furiously knocking down those thingies that say Yio Chu Kang Gardens, and putting up Zubir Said Gardens. Tour agencies becoming bankrupt from having to reprint all their brochures. Babies crying, women weeping, men screaming. Oh the humanity!

You know what I think Singapore should do, instead of renaming our streets? Calculate the supposed amount of money needed to rename all our streets, including replacement of signs, payment of workers, and other miscellaneous fees. When they arrive at a lump sum, write a check, and give it to me. That way, at least one person will be happy.

Land Of Four Million Smiles? (Part Two)

2006-12-15T00:06:00.000+08:00

I have a theory. A radical new theory that arose out of weeks of sleepless nights and pot after pot of coffee. I believe this theory is essential if we are to discover why Singaporeans aren't as courteous as we could be. The reason is that the majority of Singaporeans are Chinese.

Yes. Chinese people aren't really recognized for their compassion. We are known to be a hardy, crafy, hardworking people. That is the reason why Chinese people can be found everywhere. Singapore, Australia, USA, Canada, England. We're EVERYWHERE. You see, we realized that in order to survive, we had to get out of that massive communist country, and that was why we all ran away. This would explain out rude manner perfectly. Our lack of manners simply rose out of our lack of compassion. You see, to us, our personal wellbeing is of utmost importance. We don't really give a damn about you. Though now we are not quite as ruthless, this mindset has been passed on from generation to generation, which now becomes something like this. "So what if it makes it more convenient for you? I don't care. I'm not gonna waste my effort, and move 50 cm! Get out of my elite uncaring face."

Some of you may think I'm completely wrong, that I observed Chinese people are less courteous because the Chinese are the majority in Singapore, so that greatly increases the chance of meeting one that is inconsiderate. HAH! WOOHOO! Maybe that's true, but I doubt so. Maybe its because all of us are descendants of peasants and laborers. Or perhaps it could be due to the fact I see Chinese people can be at times rather disgusting. Just recently, I saw this elderly Chinese lady, who was dressed well enough, on the bus. Halfway on the journey, I saw her take out a pair of nail clippers... and cut her fingernails. Honestly. I had to dodge the flying shrapnel of sharp old lady splinters. I was lucky to escape unharmed. Recently as well, I saw a white collared worker, who was wearing a blue collared shirt, sitting on the bus, contentedly picking his nose. The fact that I was staring (which was rude, I'm sorry) didn't seem to bother him in the slightest bit.

So just how do we begin to transform our society? I think we all have a part to play. We can't rely on some stupid mascot, neither can we depend on any catchy slogan or inane commercials to do it. It's easy. I think it all begins with the "aura" and mood people perceive around them. Whenever I'm on a bus or train, except for the group of annoying teenagers chatting too loudy, all I see are sad sad faces. Why the hell does everyone look so damn sad? SMILE! I don't mean those forced grimaces that you show to your distant relatives whom you see once a year, while you endure their unwanted comments about your looks and intelligence. It doesn't have to be a wide toothy smile that blinds everyone in a 4 foot radius as well. It doesn't even really have to be a smile. Just don't look sad. Don't look as if you want to fight with anyone. Show a little bit of teeth. Look upbeat.

You know sometimes when you are on a bus, and there's no TVMobile to entertain you, you start to look around, and accidentally catch someone's eye? Then both of you will look away immediately, and keep your eyes on the floor awkwardly. You know what I'm gonna do the next time that happens? I'm gonna blow peoples' minds. I'm gonna smile at the other person. Perhaps I'll get beaten up, accused of being a pervert or a homosexual, even shunned and pointed at like some freak. I don't care. I honestly believe that if everyone just a little more positive, it will change the mood of your dreary commute, and everyone will have a better day. That's the complexity of the human mind. Even the smallest actions will have the greatest effects.

Another thing that is essential in a courteous society is, well, having people being courteous. Say "excuse me" instead of "SIAM". Resist the urge to give "the glare" or do "the tsk". You know what it means to be courteous. I don't have to tell you. Now all that remains is to actually do it. Don't be afraid to act first. And if you see, on a train or a bus, a fat chinese boy smiling at you look some deranged mutant, smile back and return a cheery wave.

Land Of Four Million Smiles? (Part One)

2006-12-12T17:06:00.000+08:00

Face it. Singaporeans aren't the most courteous bunch. You know it. Step out, anywhere, and you will witness countless incidences of our anti-social behaviour. Nowhere is this more apparant than in our MRT stations. At the train stations, teenagers loiter, hang around, sit on the floor. Some sit ON THE FLOOR, blocking people's path, others choose to relax at the staircase steps, sitting, ironically, next to signs with stern warnings of "DO NOT SIT ON THE STAIRS", printed in bold letters, of course.

It isn't much better on the trains and at the train platforms. Whenever a train arrives, people rush frantically to the train doors, elbowing, kicking, punching all the other people who are doing EXACTLY the same thing to everyone else. Those unfortunate saps who chose to alight are faced with the battle of their lives. The doors slide open, try as they might, they are unable to surpass the awesome force of those rushing into the train, and are overwhelmed within moments, and soon trampled under the feel of heels boots and sneakers, their arms thrown up in desperation, clinging to any metal pole in a last-ditch effort to live. To Live!!!

After the train begins moving, a natural phenomenon presents itself. People crowd and squeeze at the entrances of the train, but the middle is completely empty, save for occupied seats. Scientists have been studying this phenomenon, which the have named "Dumbass Singaporean Syndrome" DSS, for short. Top graduates from Harvard Oxford Stamford MIT have been doing research for decades, but are still unable to come up with any theories. One thing the scientists have noticed is that those few who try to move to the center are always met with growls and "tsks" of annoyance, often with a glare for good measure.

The ecosystem of the MRT train is a delicate balance. Scientists have discovered that there are several organisms that are always present on each and every train. First of all, there is the loudtalker. Either male or female, shabbily or well dressed. These annoying pricks will be screaming into their mobile phones, forcing everyone in the vicinity to be unwilling eavesdroppers. They even have the nerve to give people the "glare" and the "tsk" when told politely to keep it down. Next, there are the teenagers. When solitary, these creatures are harmless, choosing to keep to themselves, content with listening to their MP3 players, silently bobbing their heads to the unheard music, unaware that they look like utter morons. However, when these shy mammals come together in groups, ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE. These creatures metamorphose into loud, unreasonable assfaces, chatting with each other, swinging from pole to pole, like the primitive primates they are. Last but not least, there will be the mother, traveling with her young. Her maternal instincts command her to bring her children wherever she goes, and these dear sweet children, more often than not, piss people off with their childish games.

Now, what exactly causes Singaporeans to be such annoying pricks? Is it nature or nurture? Is this some modern day equivalent to Darwinism? Survival of the fittest? And just how can we turn Singaporeans into rational, friendly, normal human beings? We need to solve this problem, so that the next time foreigners come to Singapore, we will truly welcome them with four million smiles, so that they will be impressed with this little red dot, and in the future, come and spend all their money at our casinos.

Asian Games. Go Team Chin... I mean Singapore!!!

2006-12-10T22:33:00.000+08:00

I'm certain that everyone in Singapore is aware of the Asian Games at Doha, which is under way right now. I am also certain that some of you are as excited as me, glued to your TV screens every night, wearing your Team Singapore headbands, with your right fist clenched tightly over your chest, proudly waving your Singapore flats in your living rooms, with fertile tears of nationalistic joy rolling down your cheeks.

As a vital and integral member of Team Singapore (4 million strong!) you would undoubtedly know that Singapore is doing pretty well. You would also surely know that one of the greatest achievements of Team Singapore would be winning a gold medal in swimming, something we haven't done in many years. The winner of the 50m butterfly would of course be Tao Li. Take a look at today's newspaper and you would a massive shot of her grinning face, splashed right on the front page. I'm not saying that I don't respect her as an athlete. She can do many things that I cannot do, that I admit. She won, good for her. However, I just don't really think it's that appropriate that our media places such a great emphasis on her victory, and how it has brought pride to our dear nation, simply for the fact that I do not consider her to be a Singaporean.

Perhaps she has already converted to becoming a Singapore citizen, I am not certain of this. But the fact remains that she was born in China. For that reason, and for that reason alone, I do not consider her to be Singaporean. The same goes for all the other athletes that Singapore imports from China, Indonesia, or other nearby countries. Li Jia Wei, Ronald Susilo, or whoever else they may be. Singaporeans are expected to have a sense of loyalty and pride for our country, but how can we do that, if the role models of our nation, the athletes who have achieved glory for Singapore, weren't even loyal to THEIR OWN countries in the first place, and instead decided to represent Team Singapore, no doubt because of certain incentives.

Some people may be thinking that perhaps I am suffering from jealousy, a bad case of sour grapes, due to Tao Li being so popular and famous at the moment, and the sizable amount of money she receives from our government for her victory, but this is not the case. I'm just disappointed that so much is being given to a foreigner. I have nothing but respect for real Singaporean athletes, like those teenage girls, girls of my age, who managed to win a silver in the shooting competition. Unfortunately, I am unable to recall their names at this moment, due to the fact that there wasn't much hype and focus on their medal winning performance. I am also unable to recall the name of the gold medal winning body builder, or the pair of bowlers who also accomplished the same feat.

I honestly would prefer if Singapore did not import any foreign athletes, and not win any medals, than if Singapore brought over hundreds of athletes and won many medals. I mean, seriously, so what if we don't win any medals? It's not as if Singaporean have no other talents. Some people are good at running, some are good at thinking, and some are good at writing nonsensical crap on the internet.

I Buy CDs

2006-12-08T20:47:00.000+08:00

Yes, its true. I do buy CDs. No, I am not a complete and utter moron. I know how to work P2P programs, Limewire, Bittorent or what have you. I know it's free and I know that the chances of getting caught are slim, but I just don't like to do it. There are a few simple reasons for my apparant stupidity. First of all, I believe that if you like a singer's music, you should show your support, and buy the CD. Simple as that.

That is the only noble/honourable/righteous/self-praising reason. My other reasons for buying CDs are totally selfish. Second reason. Most of the music that I enjoy, is not really what you would call popular and mainstream music. In fact, I despise most types of "in" and "hot" music. Rap? Hip-Hop? Pop? Hate, Hate, Hate. (Javier, I guess this is the one and only way in which you could call me a snob.)

Third reason. In the incredibly slim chance that I do find free copies of music that I like, it is almost certainly of poor quality. Many people do not know this, but MP3s are compressed files. In fact, most uncompressed WAV files, (those that you find on CDs) are about 50mbs for roughly a 3 minute song. Most MP3s files are around 3mbs. That means that a lot of the music has been lost, which is why some MP3s that people listen to sound so hollow and empty.
You know sometimes when you are bored at home with nothing to do and you just start messing around with your computer and you click on an MP3 file and you go properties and you mess around some more and you see somewhere 128kbps? That means the song has been compressed to 128kilobits per second. For this reason, I prefer to buy my own CD, rip the files myself, in order to ensure that they sound good.

So what does my third reason for buying CDs tell you? One, that I am a loser who has way too much useless information stored in my brain. Two, that I am audiophile. You may ask, well, what is an audiophile? This word has the misfortune of ALWAYS being associated with the word pedophile. People's minds are wired in strange ways. Their train of thought usually goes something like this. Hmm, audiophile and pedophile share the "phile" part, since pedophile is a guy who likes having sex with children, then I can confidently conclude, without any doubt, that the word audiophile is most definitely a person who has sex with CDs! Woohoo! I rock!

No. An audiophile is basically a person who is especially interested in high-fidelity sound reproduction. What does that mean? It means I'm a big geeky nerd who enjoys music. A LOT. But I have to admit it, I do download music. Sometimes in order to demo a CD, I download it. If I like it, I go to the store and buy it. If I don't I delete it. I believe that there is a 24hour grace period in which people are allowed to be in possession of MP3s. However, once you do own the CD, you are allowed to own copies of the songs, meaning you can store them in MP3 format, as long as you don't sell them.

I am often labeled "freak" "weirdo" "assface" by my friends for my taste in music, and I feel that I have been misrepresented. For that reason, I would like to use this blog as an avenue to express my taste in music. Recently, I bought a new CD.

Jack Johnson
Sing-A-Longs and Lullabies for the Film Curious George

The name is weird. For those of you who do not know Jack Johnson, he's this former professional surfer who know writes music and sings songs, and is an active conservationist. He's kind of music is like the relaxing beach-side with a cold drink in your hand, lying in a hammock looking at the sunset kind of music. You know what I mean. His music is so laid-back and so relaxing, perfect for a lazy Sunday afternoon. Very easy listening. Most of the album is great, I particularly like "Upside Down" and " People Watching", but I find "The 3 R's" (reduce reuse...) not to my taste. Its the kind of song Barney the Purple Dinosaur from our imagination would sing. Overall, a decent album. I like.

Commercialism At It's Best!

2006-12-05T21:51:00.001+08:00

Oh and as Christmas season is nearly upon us, my greedy, capitalistic and entrepreneurial spirit leads me on to recommend you visiting Threadless. The link is on the left, but if you're too lazy to move your mouse 15cm across the screen, you can also use this link, http://www.threadless.com/?streetteam=themanster. Threadless is clothing website, where they sell clothing. T-shirts, Girl T-shirts, kids T-shirts, and well... hooded sweatshirts, a must for the tropical climate of lovely Singapore. I personally have bought several of their t-shirts. The quality is good, and the prints are done using silkscreen. I find their designs to be unique, something a little different from the sea of Billabongs and Quiksilvers that stretch as far as the eye can see, here in this little read dot I call home.

But wait! There's more! As of now, Threadless is having a sale, all their t-shirts are going for the LOW LOW LOW price of $10(USD). That comes to about $16 SGD, but with shipping, expect about $20, very affordable, I would say. The sale will end in about 7 days. SO ORDER NOW! Those of you who don't have credit cards, it's time to renew your relationship with your parents, in order to benefit from the sweet, sweet pleasure that comes from shopping in the comforts of your own home. Now I must admit, I am not doing this completely for free, I do get something out of it. For every order made with the link I supplied, I get about $5 SGD. However, it does not affect your order in any manner, except for you gaining my thanks and appreciation.

A New Look... and... other stuff...

2006-12-05T21:05:00.000+08:00

For the 5 or so people who have visited my humble site so far, you would notice a different look to the blog. Thanks to my very good friend Javier, also known by his internet persona as jetflame. The reasons for this choice of alter ego is still a mystery (at least to me). To me, the word jet signifies something that is speedy, agile, and quick, and let me assure you, he is none of these. Flame suggests something that is spiteful, with moments of intense emotion. I guess in this case, it would describe his personality aptly, his freaky laughter and quickness to put down others come to mind. Right now you may be thinking of me as a terrible friend, but I will have you know that Javier is MEANT to read this, and he will read it. His ego is just about as big as they come. For Javier, I know you too well, you are sick of self-love, and taste with a distempered appetite. Heh.

Anyway, I really like the blogskin that Javier has made for me. I remember Javier consulting me, asking me what I would like my blog to look like. I didn't really know what I wanted, so I asked him to "let the creativity flow through your soul. Harness its power, use it in your fingers, when you go clickity clickity your mouse and do the stuff on photoshop". However, after several moments, I reflected back on several designs Javier had made before, and I was quick to change my mind, and I said "I like clouds."

It's true. I like clouds. I also enjoy long moonlit walks on the beach, romantic dinners illuminated only by candlelight, old movies, and World Peace. But seriously, I do like clouds. There is just something that I find so soothing and calming about them. When I was still in SJI, during recess, I would hang around the third floor foyer, and just sit, and stare at the clouds. Perhaps this grew out of my dislike of the overcrowded and noisy canteen hall, but now this habit has stuck with me. Sometimes I find myself looking outside my room, or during a bus ride, at those beautiful billowing masses. I would marvel at the brilliant contrast between the stark white clouds and deep blue sky. The clouds are at times, thin and wispy, like the exhaust of an old car, other times like massive shapes that dominate the sky. The clouds travel across the sky, sometimes cascading, tumbling and rolling like water in a turbulent stream, other times floating peacefully. As I turn away, almost reluctantly, I feel as if all the problems in my life had turned into the clouds themselves, and sailed away. Everyone should try this at least once in their life.

Over-Generalisations Of Any Group Or Organisation Based On Unfounded Half Truths

2006-12-03T18:28:00.000+08:00

Also known as stereotypes.

In Singapore, most of the "name brand" schools all have their stereotypes. According to experts, each student that passes through the various gates of each proud institution will come out with uncanny similar characteristics to the thousands of others who have followed the same path. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about. RI boys are nerds, HCI boys are Communist nerds, with RGS and Nanyang being the respective female counterparts. ACS(I) boys are rich, while ACS(Barker) boys are rich and dumb. While all the CHIJ girls are... well, easy. Last and definitely not least, SJI boys, who are either, A) Gay, B) Indian, or C) Gay and Indian.

I don't know about the other schools, but maybe some of the stereotypes regarding SJI are somewhat based on observations, and may be true to a certain extent. SJI does have quite a few Indians, I would say the percentage is slightly above that of the national average. Now, the belief that all SJI boys are homosexual is not true at all. There may be a percentage of homosexuals in SJI, but I am quite certain that it has nothing to do with the school's influence or teachings. I have nothing agaisnt homosexuals, it is their choice of lifestyle, and it is absolutely none of my business. However, I, as does everyone else, enjoy making fun of others that are different from me, this does not only include gay people, it also encompasses tall, short, skinny, fat(or fatter than me), smart and dumb people. Don't judge me, you do it too. However this does NOT mean I dislike them, I do not hate people as a group, I dislike individuals.

Anyway, the issue at hand, is why do people think of Josephians as homosexual? I believe the answer lies in the things we are taught. One of SJI's teachings is to be Men Of Integrity, Men For Others. As such, we are taught to be sensitive to feelings, of other peoples' faith and cultures, suffering, humanity, love. Thus, we become sensitive boys. Hence, when teenagers of other schools observe us, we seem to them more compassionate, more receptive to feelings, more sensitive. This observation, coupled with their views of boys should be tough and strong, makes them feel as if we are all homosexuals.

I would like to once again state that I have nothing against people of any racial, religious or lifestyle group. I also love my alma mater, even though I did not sing the songs or cheer as loudly as I could have. The final message of this post is that stereotypes, are more often than not, untrue. It would be a shame to not get to know somebody, just because of his background, education, race or religion. Get to know someone well enough, before you even think of classifying him as friend or foe.

Singapore's Education System

2006-11-30T00:00:00.000+08:00

I have just come upon a chilling realization. As of this moment, my greatest academic achievement was graduating from the PAP kindergarten at Shunfu Road. I don't even have PSLE. (It's a long and completely uninteresting story.) Isn't that incredibly sad? Let me create a hypothetical situation. I fail my O Levels after a freak accident at the marking centre in England. Upon receiving my results, I being to suffer from depression, I spiral downward into the deep dark abyss of drugs, alcohol and violence. As a result, I do not further my studies. When I final shake of the depression, I'm already 25.

Out of necessity, I go looking for a job. Now, wouldn't that be a most interesting situation? A 25 year old man, who greatest recorded academic accomplishment was to beat 5 year old children. I think it would make a hilarious comedy.

Value. Added. To me, this phrase makes very little sense. Whenever I pass by a school, with banners hung on their walls or fences, proudly proclaiming "We are Value-Added... Again!!!", I can't help but laugh, roll my eyes, or pass remarks with disdain. Human beings are not numbers. People develop at different levels, some earlier, others later. You can't predict a person's ultimate level of intelligence from results obtained in primary school. I have some friends, who are were in the "Gifted" program, who are now, not doing as well as me, an "Express" student. I have other friends, whose results weren't as good as mine in secondary one, but now, unfortunately for me, have surpassed me. Singaporeans may not have much creativity, but we are not quite as predictable as some may make us out to be.

Yea... First Post

2006-11-27T21:30:00.001+08:00

So... yea. I started a blog. The thing is, that I have until this point, always been one to dislike blogs. I do not enjoy reading about some teenage girl's mundane day to day life, neither do I enjoy reading massive 1000 word paragraphs of "^_^LOLZ!!!111!! hahaz! omgomgomgomg! lyk dis iz so 2pid!!!111".

Yet here I am, working (if this can be considered work), somewhat slowly, in my lazy and carefree way, on my very first post. There are three main reasons for this. First of all, I am so very, completely, incredibly bored. I just finished my O Level exams, and after months of monotonous, if not constant, memorising of utterly useless facts, my current state of not having to do anything at all seems rather boring. Thus, this blog was formed to use up a sizable amount of my time that is not utilized in a meaningful manner.

The second reason, is of course, a desperate attempt to boost my ego by getting more people to care about my life. I would say most, if not all of you who have stumbled onto this blog would probably be familiar with a fellow Singaporean blogger, who has somehow or rather, eked out a living based on having complete strangers read about her uninteresting life. Yes, you know who I'm talking about. That little girl who touches up her face with photoshop in order to look more attractive. Now, my thinking is, if she, a talentless 20+++ woman can do it, why shouldn't I, a similarly talentless 16 year old boy be able to do so as well?

The third reason. I need a place where I can gather all my thoughts, organize them, so that in future I will be able to see my previous thoughts, whether I have changed in any way shape or form, and whether it is an improvement or not. A journey of self-observation, if you will.

So that's about it. I know I still have a lot of work to do, with the basic crappy layout and all, but I'm sure I can get help from my blogging friends. This blog is still a work in progress, and I'm not quite sure what I want to do about it. Who knows what possibilites are in store for me.