Whee the archive has been fixed!
Unfortunately my site is still down.
"SYSTEM STATUS: We are currently migrating all sites to a more powerful raid array system. Some sites will be temporarily unavailable during this migration process. All sites should be up and running on the new system within 48 hours. All index pages should be up within a few hours. FTP and new site registration will be offline during this entire process."
When you can't live without bananas
Saturday, August 10, 2002
Restored Post
End of week post:
As expected, when I went into the bunk Wednesday night, the pictures of Asian Prince had been torn down :(
On Thursday morning, we had a National Day Observance Ceremony. They wanted us to sing the anthem and say the pledge, but I was muttering curses. There was supposed to be a talk, but the CO was very kind and let us gather and sit down before commencing his "Why NS is necessary and we must stay vigilant" National Day talk.
The CSM singled me out for having a "faded" uniform, so I went to get a new set of uniform for my "parade 4". Finally getting the chance to enquire about nametags, I found to my horror that they were $5 apiece, so I've scrapped the idea of getting new ones, or even one saying "Agagooga" for fun.
The things people get up to in camp. One driver came to the Medical Centre to have his ear flushed - the night before his friends had put Kiwi Shoe Polish outside his ear. Attempting to remove it, he shoved much of it in instead. Yuck.
Apparently at the last IQA the Armour Medical Centre was in the bottom 5. Aww.
Apparently some other units only got 1/2 a day off-in-lieus for burning their Saturdays, while we got 1 day. Yeh.
I am told I got off easy for my carelessness - one guy in 46SAR got 3 extras for the sin of transferring data from the computer to paper wrongly. Erk.
NDP Day
I was posted at the Indoor Stadium again, as with the last time I was there.
This time, I got the wonderful job of tending to the rubbish point. There were 3 big trash compactor containers and I was supposed to direct people to put rubbish in one and flattened cartons in the other. Whether because the person on the next shift didn't do the job properly, or because there was simply too much trash, by evening the containers had overflowed and all the extra trash had to be placed at the side. Coming by after the parade and seeing this, the CSM was not happy and having no extra trash compactors, he did what the SAF always does when a problem can't be solved - throw more men in. So 2 people stood on top of each compactor and arranged the rubbish, all the while stamping on it, while the rest of us braved throwing up torn trash bags leaking mysterious brown putrid liquids down our arm. In the end, all the rubbish did manage to fit on the compactors, but to no end - when the tow trucks come to lift the compactors 45 degrees to tow them off, the top layer of rubbish will topple into the bushes behind (or did topple, as it's probably been cleared by now). So the next time you past by the area look for a bare area of soil where the plants have all died thanks to loads of garbage falling on top of them. At the end of it all, I smelled of trash, but I wonder how much worse those *in* the compactor smelled.
Inhaling the aroma of rubbish, I got the chance to ponder and meditate on the questions of life, like why rubbish, no matter what its composition, smells the same.
When I was taking a break from dealing with trash, I was checking bags. Someone was mulling "division of labour", and I was to get to check those 14 years old and under. I sense a conspiracy.
Instead of looping "We Will Get There" for 45 minutes, they decided to spare our senses and added variety to the piped in music with "Shine" and "Moments of Music" as well.
One CHIJ girl was using the hem of her skirt to wipe her glasses. Now, I may be lacking in social mores but at least I know better than that. Not that I have a skirt to use, but that's besides the point. She has 5 years more anyhow. Oh and thanks to that incident, I am now confirmed in my fervent hope that they had something under their disgusting nightgowns. Also on the subject of CHIJ, the disparities in size are rather shocking - the tallest performer was at least 1 1/2 heads above the shortest. See what chemicals in our environment do to the development of children?
Having had all their food confiscated the last time, the Soka Association came prepared Friday. They had people taking care of the food, instead of the individual performers bringing in their own. On a cursory and perfunctory walk around the stadium (actually looking for the stairs, but observing the Soka people at the same time), I saw a station where they were serving savoury rice kuehs, a water point with many coloured plastic cups, and many performers with Bee Hoon in their KFC packets, eating it with chopsticks. Wonderful logistics.
Compulsive photo-taking disorder, not surprisingly, is not confined to JC girls. One of the motivators (whether Poly or ITE I couldn't tell), went to take a picture with one of the Marshallers. Though of course she went for Sergeant Frank, one of the better looking ones, and with spiked hair too.
Stefanie Sun looked terrible in her wedding gown. I wonder who she was going to marry.
We were played out - we'd been told that we would return to camp that night and book out late Saturday morning. However, at the last minute, we were played out and were switched to picking up props at the National Stadium. Having left some stuff in camp, I needed to retrieve it, so I was going to go back to camp and book out Saturday morning. However, my most kind brother in law offered to drive me home after I'd gotten my (and 3 other people's) stuff, and so I booked out at around 11:55pm (I'm not sure how strict they are about not letting people book out after 11:59pm. The guard commander said I wasn't too late - "no lah, just scared you guys don't have transport". I think few people care anyhow). Even more kind of him was his intention to give 2 people we'd seen at the bus stop a lift - but by the time we'd turned back, they'd both taken a cab. The stench was rather unbearable, but I don't think the car will smell permanently.
On Saturday morning we went back to steal props from the Stadium for the Chief of Armour Change of Command. I wonder why they didn't take the balloon ;)
We fell out very early - about 9:30am, and as a bonus, we found 2 unopened bottles of Newater too! It tastes. Rather normal. It's hard to describe the difference. Since I'm at a loss for words, I'll let our esteemed PM describe Newater for me: "Goh said local tap water, which is totally potable off the faucet, was a bit sweeter but drinking chilled Newater, he could not detect the difference."
NDP is over! No more KFC and Pizza Hut! Yesh. But on the downside it means we go back from being Slave Labour to being Slave Soldiers. Ugh.
Quotes:
"[On Kit Chan and Tanya Chua] I tell you, singers don't have long careers after singing National songs"
"[Me on CHIJ kiddies chattering: Doesn't it sound like a flock of birds?] No, sounds like a flock of bitches"
"[Me on adventures with rubbish at NDP 2002] I feel soiled. I'll never be clean again."
Whoever's in charge of the NDP website is fast! At about 1am, the NDP 2002 photos were already up.
I realise that Mr Kiasu looks uncannily like Weston Smithers from the Simpsons. Plagiarism?
My mother "cleaned up" my room again and as usual everything was hidden. I was looking for Blue Bear and found him... at the bottom of a bag, with a pile of books and papers on top of him. !@#$%^&*()
End of week post:
As expected, when I went into the bunk Wednesday night, the pictures of Asian Prince had been torn down :(
On Thursday morning, we had a National Day Observance Ceremony. They wanted us to sing the anthem and say the pledge, but I was muttering curses. There was supposed to be a talk, but the CO was very kind and let us gather and sit down before commencing his "Why NS is necessary and we must stay vigilant" National Day talk.
The CSM singled me out for having a "faded" uniform, so I went to get a new set of uniform for my "parade 4". Finally getting the chance to enquire about nametags, I found to my horror that they were $5 apiece, so I've scrapped the idea of getting new ones, or even one saying "Agagooga" for fun.
The things people get up to in camp. One driver came to the Medical Centre to have his ear flushed - the night before his friends had put Kiwi Shoe Polish outside his ear. Attempting to remove it, he shoved much of it in instead. Yuck.
Apparently at the last IQA the Armour Medical Centre was in the bottom 5. Aww.
Apparently some other units only got 1/2 a day off-in-lieus for burning their Saturdays, while we got 1 day. Yeh.
I am told I got off easy for my carelessness - one guy in 46SAR got 3 extras for the sin of transferring data from the computer to paper wrongly. Erk.
NDP Day
I was posted at the Indoor Stadium again, as with the last time I was there.
This time, I got the wonderful job of tending to the rubbish point. There were 3 big trash compactor containers and I was supposed to direct people to put rubbish in one and flattened cartons in the other. Whether because the person on the next shift didn't do the job properly, or because there was simply too much trash, by evening the containers had overflowed and all the extra trash had to be placed at the side. Coming by after the parade and seeing this, the CSM was not happy and having no extra trash compactors, he did what the SAF always does when a problem can't be solved - throw more men in. So 2 people stood on top of each compactor and arranged the rubbish, all the while stamping on it, while the rest of us braved throwing up torn trash bags leaking mysterious brown putrid liquids down our arm. In the end, all the rubbish did manage to fit on the compactors, but to no end - when the tow trucks come to lift the compactors 45 degrees to tow them off, the top layer of rubbish will topple into the bushes behind (or did topple, as it's probably been cleared by now). So the next time you past by the area look for a bare area of soil where the plants have all died thanks to loads of garbage falling on top of them. At the end of it all, I smelled of trash, but I wonder how much worse those *in* the compactor smelled.
Inhaling the aroma of rubbish, I got the chance to ponder and meditate on the questions of life, like why rubbish, no matter what its composition, smells the same.
When I was taking a break from dealing with trash, I was checking bags. Someone was mulling "division of labour", and I was to get to check those 14 years old and under. I sense a conspiracy.
Instead of looping "We Will Get There" for 45 minutes, they decided to spare our senses and added variety to the piped in music with "Shine" and "Moments of Music" as well.
One CHIJ girl was using the hem of her skirt to wipe her glasses. Now, I may be lacking in social mores but at least I know better than that. Not that I have a skirt to use, but that's besides the point. She has 5 years more anyhow. Oh and thanks to that incident, I am now confirmed in my fervent hope that they had something under their disgusting nightgowns. Also on the subject of CHIJ, the disparities in size are rather shocking - the tallest performer was at least 1 1/2 heads above the shortest. See what chemicals in our environment do to the development of children?
Having had all their food confiscated the last time, the Soka Association came prepared Friday. They had people taking care of the food, instead of the individual performers bringing in their own. On a cursory and perfunctory walk around the stadium (actually looking for the stairs, but observing the Soka people at the same time), I saw a station where they were serving savoury rice kuehs, a water point with many coloured plastic cups, and many performers with Bee Hoon in their KFC packets, eating it with chopsticks. Wonderful logistics.
Compulsive photo-taking disorder, not surprisingly, is not confined to JC girls. One of the motivators (whether Poly or ITE I couldn't tell), went to take a picture with one of the Marshallers. Though of course she went for Sergeant Frank, one of the better looking ones, and with spiked hair too.
Stefanie Sun looked terrible in her wedding gown. I wonder who she was going to marry.
We were played out - we'd been told that we would return to camp that night and book out late Saturday morning. However, at the last minute, we were played out and were switched to picking up props at the National Stadium. Having left some stuff in camp, I needed to retrieve it, so I was going to go back to camp and book out Saturday morning. However, my most kind brother in law offered to drive me home after I'd gotten my (and 3 other people's) stuff, and so I booked out at around 11:55pm (I'm not sure how strict they are about not letting people book out after 11:59pm. The guard commander said I wasn't too late - "no lah, just scared you guys don't have transport". I think few people care anyhow). Even more kind of him was his intention to give 2 people we'd seen at the bus stop a lift - but by the time we'd turned back, they'd both taken a cab. The stench was rather unbearable, but I don't think the car will smell permanently.
On Saturday morning we went back to steal props from the Stadium for the Chief of Armour Change of Command. I wonder why they didn't take the balloon ;)
We fell out very early - about 9:30am, and as a bonus, we found 2 unopened bottles of Newater too! It tastes. Rather normal. It's hard to describe the difference. Since I'm at a loss for words, I'll let our esteemed PM describe Newater for me: "Goh said local tap water, which is totally potable off the faucet, was a bit sweeter but drinking chilled Newater, he could not detect the difference."
NDP is over! No more KFC and Pizza Hut! Yesh. But on the downside it means we go back from being Slave Labour to being Slave Soldiers. Ugh.
Quotes:
"[On Kit Chan and Tanya Chua] I tell you, singers don't have long careers after singing National songs"
"[Me on CHIJ kiddies chattering: Doesn't it sound like a flock of birds?] No, sounds like a flock of bitches"
"[Me on adventures with rubbish at NDP 2002] I feel soiled. I'll never be clean again."
Whoever's in charge of the NDP website is fast! At about 1am, the NDP 2002 photos were already up.
I realise that Mr Kiasu looks uncannily like Weston Smithers from the Simpsons. Plagiarism?
My mother "cleaned up" my room again and as usual everything was hidden. I was looking for Blue Bear and found him... at the bottom of a bag, with a pile of books and papers on top of him. !@#$%^&*()
Post ID: 80066095
More tales from the log:
"chee soon juan's sister" - Has she been sued too?
"jaime teo" - Miss Singapore 2001 is popular
"malays in bikinis" - There seems to be some guy who has a fetish for Malays
"lightspeed+rescue+music+videos" - I want to find these myself.
"chao keng in singapore army" - I'm very guai. No tips forthcoming from me.
"Anakin's sexual life with Padme" - Erm. Perhaps this site, higher in the search hits listing, would be more relevant.
All concerti follow the Italian convention of three movements (fast, slow, fast) and No 3 is scored in ten parts, three each of violins, violas, and celli, and basso continuo. Bach did not write a slow movement for the work, notating only a final cadence of two chords in the movement. He would probably have expected the continuo player to improvise here, or may have himself inserted a movement from a solo keyboard work.
Now I know why my 2 versions of movement 2 sound rather different, and why 2 versions of the full concerto had just 2 chords punctuating the sprightly first and last movements.
I never knew the Six degrees of separation could have so many implications.
"This had been known for years by movie buffs who play the so-called Kevin Bacon Game. The aim of the game is to link the eponymous American actor to any other via the fewest number of intermediaries"
"chee soon juan's sister" - Has she been sued too?
"jaime teo" - Miss Singapore 2001 is popular
"malays in bikinis" - There seems to be some guy who has a fetish for Malays
"lightspeed+rescue+music+videos" - I want to find these myself.
"chao keng in singapore army" - I'm very guai. No tips forthcoming from me.
"Anakin's sexual life with Padme" - Erm. Perhaps this site, higher in the search hits listing, would be more relevant.
All concerti follow the Italian convention of three movements (fast, slow, fast) and No 3 is scored in ten parts, three each of violins, violas, and celli, and basso continuo. Bach did not write a slow movement for the work, notating only a final cadence of two chords in the movement. He would probably have expected the continuo player to improvise here, or may have himself inserted a movement from a solo keyboard work.
Now I know why my 2 versions of movement 2 sound rather different, and why 2 versions of the full concerto had just 2 chords punctuating the sprightly first and last movements.
I never knew the Six degrees of separation could have so many implications.
"This had been known for years by movie buffs who play the so-called Kevin Bacon Game. The aim of the game is to link the eponymous American actor to any other via the fewest number of intermediaries"
Post ID: 80061942
Sleazy chinese songs:
(These are approximately the lyrics of the song sung by Jamie Teo yesterday)
歌词名称：我要你的爱
歌手：周蕙
专辑：我要你的爱
歌词： # 我 我 我要你 我要你的 我要你的爱 你为什么不走过来 我 我要 我要你 我要你的 我要你的爱 你为什么不说出来
Listen to your mama and you never will regret it
And if anybody wonders you can tell them that I said it
The only thing I know is that I never can forget you
I've been longing for you baby ever since the day I met you
I got you where I want you and I'm never gonna let you get away from me
Do what I tell you
* I'm the girl for you and so you better start to face it
If you ever lose my love you know you never can replace it
I think it's time for you to start to give me some loving Carrying a touch for you that's hotter than an oven
It's time for you and me to do a little turtle loving
Baby hold me tight and do what I tell you
Repeat # * 我爱你我爱你
我 我要 我要你 我要你说 只要说声爱 你为什么不 为什么不 为什么不敢说爱
Apparently it's a Chinese version of a 1961 song:
I WANT YOU TO BE MY BABY
(A. Silver - Alfred)
LILLIAN BRIGGS
Or is it the other way around?
(These are approximately the lyrics of the song sung by Jamie Teo yesterday)
歌词名称：我要你的爱
歌手：周蕙
专辑：我要你的爱
歌词： # 我 我 我要你 我要你的 我要你的爱 你为什么不走过来 我 我要 我要你 我要你的 我要你的爱 你为什么不说出来
Listen to your mama and you never will regret it
And if anybody wonders you can tell them that I said it
The only thing I know is that I never can forget you
I've been longing for you baby ever since the day I met you
I got you where I want you and I'm never gonna let you get away from me
Do what I tell you
* I'm the girl for you and so you better start to face it
If you ever lose my love you know you never can replace it
I think it's time for you to start to give me some loving Carrying a touch for you that's hotter than an oven
It's time for you and me to do a little turtle loving
Baby hold me tight and do what I tell you
Repeat # * 我爱你我爱你
我 我要 我要你 我要你说 只要说声爱 你为什么不 为什么不 为什么不敢说爱
Apparently it's a Chinese version of a 1961 song:
I WANT YOU TO BE MY BABY
(A. Silver - Alfred)
LILLIAN BRIGGS
Or is it the other way around?
Post ID: 80061404
Having come back not long ago smelling of rubbish thanks to some adventures in the National Stadium, I wasn't going to post, but I noticed that my dissing on sparky: v 1.0 magnetic has been extended from:
"Balderdash
Balderdash - a monumental waste of some pretty sharp intellect."
to
"[blog - the scourge of the 21st century]
Balderdash
Balderdash - a monumental waste of some pretty sharp intellect. One year old, and still kicking and screaming (and griping, and whingeing). Blog on, baby!
"A generation of cyber-whiners," was the term applied to something else, but I think it's fairly accurate about lots of these personal webpages, blogs and group blogs. Is this the best our generation can come up with? Cyberwhining about the minute details of their days? Who really cares, anyway? And by the way, the poetry still sucks.
I hope the irony that I am writing this on a blog isn't lost on people...or do I have to point it out?
For relief from the inanity of it all, try this for size. The Dartmouth Observer contributors actually have things to say."
Being the owner of this humble abode, I suppose the onerous duty of fumbling some manner of response rests squarely on my weary shoulders.
Well, I'm glad to say that all manner of services are offered, from meaningless and trivial details noted down because the writer had nothing to do either when noting the details down or when typing them out, to trivia on what manner of strange objects can fit in anal cavities, to adolescent angst (relatively tastefully done, and not the sole content of the page). There is also nerdy and geeky material, and pompous social commentary if you're lucky. Indeed, we offer something for the whole family, for people of all genders (males, females, hermaphrodites and neuters), races (human, elf, dwarf, half-ogre, halfling [Ed: Just what are they half of anyway?] and even the odd lizardman) and ages!
Loath as I am to do so, I have to use, in some measure, the most commonly used defence used by those who publish not under commission, but for recreation - "if you don't like it, don't read it". I can just imagine the hordes of rabid, frothing anti-fans collapsing in apoplexy whenever they read each new entry, yet who come again and again for more. And more.
If I don't whine here, where can I whine? :) Not that I whine all the time, or even most of the time.
Someone was intimating that I should post a vehement, vituperative response, or at least a return salvo, but that wouldn't really be in character, nor would it really accomplish anything, so I offer this half-parry.
Oh and I don't recall writing any poetry :)
And now, to bed.
"Balderdash
Balderdash - a monumental waste of some pretty sharp intellect."
to
"[blog - the scourge of the 21st century]
Balderdash
Balderdash - a monumental waste of some pretty sharp intellect. One year old, and still kicking and screaming (and griping, and whingeing). Blog on, baby!
"A generation of cyber-whiners," was the term applied to something else, but I think it's fairly accurate about lots of these personal webpages, blogs and group blogs. Is this the best our generation can come up with? Cyberwhining about the minute details of their days? Who really cares, anyway? And by the way, the poetry still sucks.
I hope the irony that I am writing this on a blog isn't lost on people...or do I have to point it out?
For relief from the inanity of it all, try this for size. The Dartmouth Observer contributors actually have things to say."
Being the owner of this humble abode, I suppose the onerous duty of fumbling some manner of response rests squarely on my weary shoulders.
Well, I'm glad to say that all manner of services are offered, from meaningless and trivial details noted down because the writer had nothing to do either when noting the details down or when typing them out, to trivia on what manner of strange objects can fit in anal cavities, to adolescent angst (relatively tastefully done, and not the sole content of the page). There is also nerdy and geeky material, and pompous social commentary if you're lucky. Indeed, we offer something for the whole family, for people of all genders (males, females, hermaphrodites and neuters), races (human, elf, dwarf, half-ogre, halfling [Ed: Just what are they half of anyway?] and even the odd lizardman) and ages!
Loath as I am to do so, I have to use, in some measure, the most commonly used defence used by those who publish not under commission, but for recreation - "if you don't like it, don't read it". I can just imagine the hordes of rabid, frothing anti-fans collapsing in apoplexy whenever they read each new entry, yet who come again and again for more. And more.
If I don't whine here, where can I whine? :) Not that I whine all the time, or even most of the time.
Someone was intimating that I should post a vehement, vituperative response, or at least a return salvo, but that wouldn't really be in character, nor would it really accomplish anything, so I offer this half-parry.
Oh and I don't recall writing any poetry :)
And now, to bed.
Post ID: 80034253
Thursday, August 08, 2002
All Things Bright and Beautiful
Words based on Genesis 1:31 by Cecil Frances Alexander (1818-1895)
This version of the tune is from a 17th Century English melody.
Refrain:
All things bright and beautiful,
All creatures great and small,
All things wise and wonderful:
The Lord God made them all.
Each little flower that opens,
Each little bird that sings,
God made their glowing colors,
And made their tiny wings.
(Refrain)
The purple-headed mountains,
The river running by,
The sunset and the morning
That brightens up the sky.
(Refrain) The cold wind in the winter,
The pleasant summer sun,
The ripe fruits in the garden:
God made them every one.
(Refrain)
God gave us eyes to see them,
And lips that we might tell
How great is God Almighty,
Who has made all things well.
(Refrain)
Some Australian Waiters:
Words based on Genesis 1:31 by Cecil Frances Alexander (1818-1895)
This version of the tune is from a 17th Century English melody.
Refrain:
All things bright and beautiful,
All creatures great and small,
All things wise and wonderful:
The Lord God made them all.
Each little flower that opens,
Each little bird that sings,
God made their glowing colors,
And made their tiny wings.
(Refrain)
The purple-headed mountains,
The river running by,
The sunset and the morning
That brightens up the sky.
(Refrain) The cold wind in the winter,
The pleasant summer sun,
The ripe fruits in the garden:
God made them every one.
(Refrain)
God gave us eyes to see them,
And lips that we might tell
How great is God Almighty,
Who has made all things well.
(Refrain)
Some Australian Waiters:
Post ID: 79983928
The romance novel
True love returns
Jul 25th 2002 | DENVER
From The Economist print edition
America rediscovers its heartland
FOR a few days in mid-July, there really was a place where women who �smelled of wildflowers and smoke� and had �a long tumble of flaming curls around a face of rose and cream� could glance hopefully at men with �eyes of clear and calm blue that could harden to steel�. It was Denver, Colorado, where life recaptured something of its old innocence at the annual conference of the Romance Writers of America. This is a body founded in 1980 by three dozen authors who, oppressed by the gritty greyness of the realist school of novel-writing, set out determinedly to recreate the world of P.G. Wodehouse's �Honeysuckle Cottage�.
How well they have succeeded�up to a point. The Romance Writers today have more than 8,000 members. More than 1,500 people turned up at this year's assembly. Sales of romantic books�now a third of all the fiction sold in America�topped $1.5 billion last year, and the figure is rising.
There is, of course, a price. These days the bestseller lists are studded with titles such as �One Night of Passion�, �Fast Women� and �Sins of Summer�. The definition of romance has evolved along with the expectations of the (almost entirely female) readership of these books. So have their covers. A picture of a muscled hunk embracing a knee-buckling waif is embarrassing to hold up to other people's gaze in an airliner or your firm's office. Covers nowadays are more likely to be a swirl of pastel colours around a burst of flowers. The lust advertised by those titles is for the reader's eye only.
Characters have changed too. The typical hero is no longer a brooding English aristocrat with a large estate who, on a chance visit to a sick aunt, meets a lovely, lonely, virginal 17-year-old, says Charis Calhoon of the Romance Writers. �Cops, firemen and blue-collar workers are incredibly hot.� Women have aged a decade or two, even three; not a few of them are curvaceous moguls. There may even be a divorcee with a child.
Some traditions endure. There has to be a relationship. Generally, the heroine and the hero remain monogamous after they meet, regardless of whether it is in Chapter Three or Chapter Ten, however chequered their past, and no matter whether they hate each other at first sight. And there has to be a happy ending. �The conflict,� says Ms Calhoon, �is the struggle to make your love work,� which means, she adds, the struggle to maintain �commitment, monogamy and��well, there has to be some concession��a sense of fashion.�
The reigning queen of this world is Nora Roberts, author of such classics as �Tears of the Moon�, �Jewels of the Sun�, �Born in Fire�, �Born in Ice� and �Born in Shame�. She has written 145 books under her own name, almost all of them following the same pattern: a flawed couple meet, have explicit sex (�hot blood and violent lust he knew he could only chain down for so long�), painfully break up (�Love, she thought, could be such a lie�), and then reunite.
Recently, in her spare time, Ms Roberts has begun writing books under the name of J.D. Robb (�Reunion in Death�, �Betrayal in Death�, �Purity in Death�) in which the chief theme is a mystery, not love (though love is not left out). This year she has published two mysteries, three romances and four reprints. As fast as she produces them, readers inhale them. Every minute another 34 are sold. At the Denver conference the queue waiting for her autograph extended the length of a vast ballroom. When she put her pen down, there was not a copy left to sign. Unsated admirers were left panting for more. And more.
True love returns
Jul 25th 2002 | DENVER
From The Economist print edition
America rediscovers its heartland
FOR a few days in mid-July, there really was a place where women who �smelled of wildflowers and smoke� and had �a long tumble of flaming curls around a face of rose and cream� could glance hopefully at men with �eyes of clear and calm blue that could harden to steel�. It was Denver, Colorado, where life recaptured something of its old innocence at the annual conference of the Romance Writers of America. This is a body founded in 1980 by three dozen authors who, oppressed by the gritty greyness of the realist school of novel-writing, set out determinedly to recreate the world of P.G. Wodehouse's �Honeysuckle Cottage�.
How well they have succeeded�up to a point. The Romance Writers today have more than 8,000 members. More than 1,500 people turned up at this year's assembly. Sales of romantic books�now a third of all the fiction sold in America�topped $1.5 billion last year, and the figure is rising.
There is, of course, a price. These days the bestseller lists are studded with titles such as �One Night of Passion�, �Fast Women� and �Sins of Summer�. The definition of romance has evolved along with the expectations of the (almost entirely female) readership of these books. So have their covers. A picture of a muscled hunk embracing a knee-buckling waif is embarrassing to hold up to other people's gaze in an airliner or your firm's office. Covers nowadays are more likely to be a swirl of pastel colours around a burst of flowers. The lust advertised by those titles is for the reader's eye only.
Characters have changed too. The typical hero is no longer a brooding English aristocrat with a large estate who, on a chance visit to a sick aunt, meets a lovely, lonely, virginal 17-year-old, says Charis Calhoon of the Romance Writers. �Cops, firemen and blue-collar workers are incredibly hot.� Women have aged a decade or two, even three; not a few of them are curvaceous moguls. There may even be a divorcee with a child.
Some traditions endure. There has to be a relationship. Generally, the heroine and the hero remain monogamous after they meet, regardless of whether it is in Chapter Three or Chapter Ten, however chequered their past, and no matter whether they hate each other at first sight. And there has to be a happy ending. �The conflict,� says Ms Calhoon, �is the struggle to make your love work,� which means, she adds, the struggle to maintain �commitment, monogamy and��well, there has to be some concession��a sense of fashion.�
The reigning queen of this world is Nora Roberts, author of such classics as �Tears of the Moon�, �Jewels of the Sun�, �Born in Fire�, �Born in Ice� and �Born in Shame�. She has written 145 books under her own name, almost all of them following the same pattern: a flawed couple meet, have explicit sex (�hot blood and violent lust he knew he could only chain down for so long�), painfully break up (�Love, she thought, could be such a lie�), and then reunite.
Recently, in her spare time, Ms Roberts has begun writing books under the name of J.D. Robb (�Reunion in Death�, �Betrayal in Death�, �Purity in Death�) in which the chief theme is a mystery, not love (though love is not left out). This year she has published two mysteries, three romances and four reprints. As fast as she produces them, readers inhale them. Every minute another 34 are sold. At the Denver conference the queue waiting for her autograph extended the length of a vast ballroom. When she put her pen down, there was not a copy left to sign. Unsated admirers were left panting for more. And more.
Post ID: 79980831
Somehow this page has appeared on http://zouk.blogspot.com/ former hangout of many CAPpers around J1 age. They like to move around a lot. They used to be at http://meadows.blogspot.com/ before that. And now they rant on http://jugs.blogspot.com/.
Post ID: 79980659
And in another disturbing trend, my father emailed me an invitation to join a yahoogroup. An interesting thought at first blus;I haven't actively posted anything online in a long time - well, anything relevant; there is this blog.
However, the thought of actually posting stuff online - which for me is the only traditional outlet for expressing my real opinions - in a forum which one's parents actually read chills the soul.
Andrew: Is the thing you were humming the Benedicamus Domino?
However, the thought of actually posting stuff online - which for me is the only traditional outlet for expressing my real opinions - in a forum which one's parents actually read chills the soul.
Andrew: Is the thing you were humming the Benedicamus Domino?
Post ID: 79971251
Word of the day: "grouting."
And here's a page for all you budding people wondering if those Young Astronomer/Biologist/Entomologist/Proctologist badges in primary school were worth it in the end.
(I did Young Astronomer; purely because it required the least points.)
And here's a page for all you budding people wondering if those Young Astronomer/Biologist/Entomologist/Proctologist badges in primary school were worth it in the end.
(I did Young Astronomer; purely because it required the least points.)
Post ID: 79970803
Wednesday, August 07, 2002
Mmm..... just sang a wonderful Domino Canto thing in choir prac (as you might guess it *Is* contemporary classical)... just *chills* your soul.... still humming brent's wonderful T1 solo part... i wish i had his voice. Brent's voice is so good so good so good!!!
When we were practising it there's this 2 pages with syncopated "quie- recivit- something- atu- vi-tas, vi-tas tu-am" that is tricky but nice if done well and crisply. Ross and steve were competing to see who could squeeze in more "shit"s during the onbeat rests.
When we were practising it there's this 2 pages with syncopated "quie- recivit- something- atu- vi-tas, vi-tas tu-am" that is tricky but nice if done well and crisply. Ross and steve were competing to see who could squeeze in more "shit"s during the onbeat rests.
Post ID: 79934977
On Julian's recommendation, I watched F3. So far I've done Episodes 1 and 2, and part of 3.
He claims that it's meant to be funny and yes, many parts of Part 1 and 2 are. However, I agree with much of what the F3 review featured here some time ago said about the ridiculousness of F3 :) Though the author purposely ignored some parts F3 poked fun at itself.
Part 3, however, is another story. It's rather disturbing.
In a futile attempt to console myself, here's some Advantages of signing extra:
You help people by saving their weekends
You can spend time reading
You can work on your GP by practicing essays (Yeah right)
Hmm.
He claims that it's meant to be funny and yes, many parts of Part 1 and 2 are. However, I agree with much of what the F3 review featured here some time ago said about the ridiculousness of F3 :) Though the author purposely ignored some parts F3 poked fun at itself.
Part 3, however, is another story. It's rather disturbing.
In a futile attempt to console myself, here's some Advantages of signing extra:
You help people by saving their weekends
You can spend time reading
You can work on your GP by practicing essays (Yeah right)
Hmm.
Post ID: 79933204
List from the medical journals of the condition known as "insertion of foreign bodies into the rectum."
A bottle of Mrs. Butterworth's syrup, an ax handle, a nine-inch zucchini, countless dildoes and vibrators including one 14-inch model complete with two D-cell batteries, a plastic spatula, a 9-1/2-inch water bottle, a deodorant bottle, a Coke bottle, a large bottle cap, numerous other bottles, a 3-1/2-inch Japanese glass float ball, an 11-inch carrot, an antenna rod, a 150-watt light bulb, a 100-watt frosted bulb, a cucumber, a screwdriver, four rubber balls, 72-1/2 jeweler's saws (all from one patient, but not all at the same time, although 29 were discovered on one occasion), a paperweight, an apple, an onion, a plastic toothbrush package, two bananas, a frozen pig's tail (it got stuck when it thawed), a ten-inch length of broomstick, an 18-inch umbrella handle and central rod, a plantain encased in a condom, two Vaseline jars, a whiskey bottle with a cord attached, a teacup, an oil can, a six-by-five-inch tool box weighing 22 ounces, a six-inch stone weighing two pounds (in the latter two cases the patients died due to intestinal obstruction), a baby powder can, a test tube, a ball-point pen, a peanut butter jar, candles, baseballs, a sand-filled bicycle inner tube, sewing needles, a flashlight, a half-filled tobacco pouch, a turnip, a pair of eyeglasses, a hard-boiled egg, a carborundum grindstone (with handle), a suitcase key, a syringe, a file, tumblers and glasses, a polyethylene waste trap from the U-bend of a sink, and much, much more. ...In 1955 one man who was "feeling depressed" reportedly inserted a six-inch paper tube into his rectum, dropped in a lighted firecracker, and blew a hole in his anterior rectal wall.
A bottle of Mrs. Butterworth's syrup, an ax handle, a nine-inch zucchini, countless dildoes and vibrators including one 14-inch model complete with two D-cell batteries, a plastic spatula, a 9-1/2-inch water bottle, a deodorant bottle, a Coke bottle, a large bottle cap, numerous other bottles, a 3-1/2-inch Japanese glass float ball, an 11-inch carrot, an antenna rod, a 150-watt light bulb, a 100-watt frosted bulb, a cucumber, a screwdriver, four rubber balls, 72-1/2 jeweler's saws (all from one patient, but not all at the same time, although 29 were discovered on one occasion), a paperweight, an apple, an onion, a plastic toothbrush package, two bananas, a frozen pig's tail (it got stuck when it thawed), a ten-inch length of broomstick, an 18-inch umbrella handle and central rod, a plantain encased in a condom, two Vaseline jars, a whiskey bottle with a cord attached, a teacup, an oil can, a six-by-five-inch tool box weighing 22 ounces, a six-inch stone weighing two pounds (in the latter two cases the patients died due to intestinal obstruction), a baby powder can, a test tube, a ball-point pen, a peanut butter jar, candles, baseballs, a sand-filled bicycle inner tube, sewing needles, a flashlight, a half-filled tobacco pouch, a turnip, a pair of eyeglasses, a hard-boiled egg, a carborundum grindstone (with handle), a suitcase key, a syringe, a file, tumblers and glasses, a polyethylene waste trap from the U-bend of a sink, and much, much more. ...In 1955 one man who was "feeling depressed" reportedly inserted a six-inch paper tube into his rectum, dropped in a lighted firecracker, and blew a hole in his anterior rectal wall.
Post ID: 79929683
Restored Post
Whee. On Tuesday I got 2 extras.
The first was because I booked out on Monday when I wasn't supposed to. In layman's terms, AWOL, I supposed. So maybe it wasn't such a good idea to stack Saturday duty and Sunday confinement, since I wouldn't have been entitled to book out on Monday's Off-In-Lieu. Thankfully, I got off rather lightly, with 1 extra.
The other extra was for 2 relatively minor mistakes. The Battalion was having Movie Night, so the Medics went to do work at the Medical Centre. Andrew decided to teach us the Emergency Drill, and we had a simulated casualty. After it all however, I forgot to keep the casualty's docket, and accidentally dumped the blood test register into the bin because it was on the same clipboard as a casualty log sheet that was to be thrown away.
I'm starting to cease being fazed by the extras. 3 in 8 days. Wah. If you count the confinement, 4 days burnt in 13 days. My favourite signaller thinks that I sounded absent minded, as if something was on my mind. Maybe. Maybe I should brood when I'm not on duty. Or find a way to infect myself with sleeping sickness and wake up on the 12th of June 2004, hopefully less incompetent than now. I envy Ooi, who has been on MC since his hand operation 3-4 weeks ago.
I am very confused by the whole system of applying to go overseas. I suspect that this is deliberate, done to discourage servicemen from travelling abroad. As it stands now, I think I could've stayed in Melbourne for 1 day more, but at this point I've accepted the fact that the SAF will try all means to drain the meagre 14 days that we are granted, and there's nothing we can do about it.
The words of one sergeant in BMT come to mind: "You can only take leave when the SAF wants you to".
As long as I get out of this prison called Singapore, even for a short 4 days, I'll be happy.
Now and then, I'm being affected by mood swings again. Oddly enough, the happiest I felt Tuesday was during Unarmed Combat, as I revelled in the sheer mindlessness of it all. Of course it didn't hurt that the stretching wasn't as painful as my first UC lesson - my muscles didn't hurt yesterday and aren't hurting now.
The rest of the day I was rather stressed. I think I'm over reacting, and jumping at shadows. I couldn't really put my finger on why I was so on edge. I wonder if anyone notices, or cares. The only one who notice my tension was James, who commented that I looked very stressed. Maybe I am proceeding towards the last of the three fates - Dead, Broken or Crazy - that I always thought would befall me during this time. Looking at the dogs frolicking outside the Medical Centre was quite uplifting, though.
Interestingly enough, my rash of bad luck and stress seemed to have come just as Folie departed for Lion Company. Hmm.
I am rather happy that I don't seem to be dispersing my stress towards others though, like my mother always does.
I suppose I should be happy for the little things - for one (valid) reason or another, of the 3 or 4 RT sessions I've been scheduled for, I've not gone for a single one yet.
As expected, my pictures of Asian Prince weren't very well received.
"[On my pasting of 3 Asian Prince photos on a cupboard] I am racist... You like men, put a picture of [a] Chinese man, I don't mind. You go and put an Indian... If you want you [should] put it on the ceiling... In the middle of the night, 'There's something looking at me'"
Some of them said I was er3 xin1 :)
Whee. On Tuesday I got 2 extras.
The first was because I booked out on Monday when I wasn't supposed to. In layman's terms, AWOL, I supposed. So maybe it wasn't such a good idea to stack Saturday duty and Sunday confinement, since I wouldn't have been entitled to book out on Monday's Off-In-Lieu. Thankfully, I got off rather lightly, with 1 extra.
The other extra was for 2 relatively minor mistakes. The Battalion was having Movie Night, so the Medics went to do work at the Medical Centre. Andrew decided to teach us the Emergency Drill, and we had a simulated casualty. After it all however, I forgot to keep the casualty's docket, and accidentally dumped the blood test register into the bin because it was on the same clipboard as a casualty log sheet that was to be thrown away.
I'm starting to cease being fazed by the extras. 3 in 8 days. Wah. If you count the confinement, 4 days burnt in 13 days. My favourite signaller thinks that I sounded absent minded, as if something was on my mind. Maybe. Maybe I should brood when I'm not on duty. Or find a way to infect myself with sleeping sickness and wake up on the 12th of June 2004, hopefully less incompetent than now. I envy Ooi, who has been on MC since his hand operation 3-4 weeks ago.
I am very confused by the whole system of applying to go overseas. I suspect that this is deliberate, done to discourage servicemen from travelling abroad. As it stands now, I think I could've stayed in Melbourne for 1 day more, but at this point I've accepted the fact that the SAF will try all means to drain the meagre 14 days that we are granted, and there's nothing we can do about it.
The words of one sergeant in BMT come to mind: "You can only take leave when the SAF wants you to".
As long as I get out of this prison called Singapore, even for a short 4 days, I'll be happy.
Now and then, I'm being affected by mood swings again. Oddly enough, the happiest I felt Tuesday was during Unarmed Combat, as I revelled in the sheer mindlessness of it all. Of course it didn't hurt that the stretching wasn't as painful as my first UC lesson - my muscles didn't hurt yesterday and aren't hurting now.
The rest of the day I was rather stressed. I think I'm over reacting, and jumping at shadows. I couldn't really put my finger on why I was so on edge. I wonder if anyone notices, or cares. The only one who notice my tension was James, who commented that I looked very stressed. Maybe I am proceeding towards the last of the three fates - Dead, Broken or Crazy - that I always thought would befall me during this time. Looking at the dogs frolicking outside the Medical Centre was quite uplifting, though.
Interestingly enough, my rash of bad luck and stress seemed to have come just as Folie departed for Lion Company. Hmm.
I am rather happy that I don't seem to be dispersing my stress towards others though, like my mother always does.
I suppose I should be happy for the little things - for one (valid) reason or another, of the 3 or 4 RT sessions I've been scheduled for, I've not gone for a single one yet.
As expected, my pictures of Asian Prince weren't very well received.
"[On my pasting of 3 Asian Prince photos on a cupboard] I am racist... You like men, put a picture of [a] Chinese man, I don't mind. You go and put an Indian... If you want you [should] put it on the ceiling... In the middle of the night, 'There's something looking at me'"
Some of them said I was er3 xin1 :)
Post ID: 79927988
Lots of people don't like shawn ban. Don't be like him.
I'm so angry!! Got mad with a lot of people so i was already going "bitch bitch Bitch Bitch Bitch" in my mind and when i went to check out the handphone deal i wanted- a free nokia 8210 iwth a 2 year $25 optus plan- the shop didn't know anything about it. And when i called up the helpline they said this offer (that i saw on the website) was only applicable for purchases over the phone using credit card. And since i don't currently have a credit card (and it takes 1 week to process) I can't do it. Hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate! *Now this blog will be the google hit for peopl looking for hate websites*
I'm going to go for a 2 year optus $33 plan with a free phone- nokia 3310, or ericsson A3618 or nokia 3350 or panasonic GD75 or motorola T191 or ericsson T65. I feel so angry i almost feel like forking out the $100 to upgrade to a nokia 5210!!
Can one of you help me buy handphone accessories from singapore and post to me (i'll pay for the postage! And treat u to lunch the next time i'm back) once i've decided what phone i'm getting?
I'm so angry!! Got mad with a lot of people so i was already going "bitch bitch Bitch Bitch Bitch" in my mind and when i went to check out the handphone deal i wanted- a free nokia 8210 iwth a 2 year $25 optus plan- the shop didn't know anything about it. And when i called up the helpline they said this offer (that i saw on the website) was only applicable for purchases over the phone using credit card. And since i don't currently have a credit card (and it takes 1 week to process) I can't do it. Hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate! *Now this blog will be the google hit for peopl looking for hate websites*
I'm going to go for a 2 year optus $33 plan with a free phone- nokia 3310, or ericsson A3618 or nokia 3350 or panasonic GD75 or motorola T191 or ericsson T65. I feel so angry i almost feel like forking out the $100 to upgrade to a nokia 5210!!
Can one of you help me buy handphone accessories from singapore and post to me (i'll pay for the postage! And treat u to lunch the next time i'm back) once i've decided what phone i'm getting?
Post ID: 79925858
I got 2 extras in one day so I don't feel particularly inspired. Perhaps during my half day of leave-clearing tomorrow (ahem).
More search engine hits:
"how to excuse pes E IPPT"
"how to write a virus"
"hokkien counterstrike sounds"
"how to be pretentious"
"Waffletown in Singapore"
"Pork knuckle + Singapore+holland"
More stuff seen on "Just Eat Me"
"I'm happy Peggy and Kevin Siew got the President's scholarships, cos they're decent people. And I'm happy Jianlong got his SAFOS scholarship too, cos he needs it. But Shiyi! Teo Shiyi! I mean, the guy's just pure evil. He's Hitler incarnate! Oh wait, I'm breaking a promise I made a while back.
Santha, Bitch From Hell: "I don't want any of you calling my prefects Hitler again."
Ravi (fighting back laughter): "Um."
Andrew (fighting back laughter): "Um."
Me (fighting back laughter and losing): "Yes, ma'am. We will not call any prefect Hitler again."
Asshole."
My dissing people skill is not as finely refined. He seems to be able to do it with fewer of the negative side effects :)
I never understood the Hitler thing, but I remember he did book me once for eating in class. He didn't actually see me eating, but he claimed that he saw crumbs on my lips. Actually I was eating in class, but that's a separate issue - one shouldn't book others on assumptions!
Balderdash's anniversary is coming in 1 week! Maybe I can start a feature - "this week on Balderdash..."
Behold the very first, the virgin post.
"Online journals are evil. So I've said before.
So I will post all the weird things I always tell people here!
Muahaha."
Looks like I didn't quite live up to my mission statement.
More search engine hits:
"how to excuse pes E IPPT"
"how to write a virus"
"hokkien counterstrike sounds"
"how to be pretentious"
"Waffletown in Singapore"
"Pork knuckle + Singapore+holland"
More stuff seen on "Just Eat Me"
"I'm happy Peggy and Kevin Siew got the President's scholarships, cos they're decent people. And I'm happy Jianlong got his SAFOS scholarship too, cos he needs it. But Shiyi! Teo Shiyi! I mean, the guy's just pure evil. He's Hitler incarnate! Oh wait, I'm breaking a promise I made a while back.
Santha, Bitch From Hell: "I don't want any of you calling my prefects Hitler again."
Ravi (fighting back laughter): "Um."
Andrew (fighting back laughter): "Um."
Me (fighting back laughter and losing): "Yes, ma'am. We will not call any prefect Hitler again."
Asshole."
My dissing people skill is not as finely refined. He seems to be able to do it with fewer of the negative side effects :)
I never understood the Hitler thing, but I remember he did book me once for eating in class. He didn't actually see me eating, but he claimed that he saw crumbs on my lips. Actually I was eating in class, but that's a separate issue - one shouldn't book others on assumptions!
Balderdash's anniversary is coming in 1 week! Maybe I can start a feature - "this week on Balderdash..."
Behold the very first, the virgin post.
"Online journals are evil. So I've said before.
So I will post all the weird things I always tell people here!
Muahaha."
Looks like I didn't quite live up to my mission statement.
Post ID: 79895533
Tuesday, August 06, 2002
THE 27 TOP THINGS YOU WISH YOU COULD SAY AT WORK
1. I can see your point, but I still think you're full of shit.
2. I have plenty of talent and vision. I just don't give a fuck.
3. How about "never"? Is "never" good for you?
4. It sounds like English, but I can't understand a word you're
saying.
5. I see you've set aside this special time to humiliate yourself
in public.
6. Ahhh, I see the fuck-up fairy has visited us again.
7. You are validating my inherent mistrust of strangers.
8. I'm already visualising the duct tape over your mouth.
9. The fact that no one understands you doesn't mean you're an
artist.
10. Someday, we'll look back on this, laugh nervously and change the
subject.
11. I will always cherish the initial misconceptions I had about
you.
12. I don't know what your problem is, but I'll bet it's hard to
pronounce.
13. Any connection between your reality and mine is purely
coincidental.
14. I like you. You remind me of when I was young and stupid.
15. What am I? Flypaper for freaks!?
16. I'm not being rude. You're just insignificant.
17. Thank you. We're all refreshed and challenged by your unique
point of view.
18. It's a thankless job, but I've got a lot of Karma to burn off.
19. Yes, I am an agent of Satan, but my duties are largely ceremonial.
20. No, my powers can only be used for good.
21. I'm really easy to get along with once people learn to worship me.
22. You sound reasonable......time to up my medication.
23. I'll try being nicer if you'll try being smarter.
24. I'm out of my mind, but feel free to leave a message.
25. I don't work here. I'm a consultant.
26. Who me? I just wander from room to room.
27. My toys! My toys! I can't do this job without my toys!:
For those HIGH STRESS days
1. Well, aren't we just a ray of fucking sunshine?
2. Not the brightest crayon in the box now, are we?
3. Do I look like a fucking people person?
4. This isn't an office. It's Hell with fluorescent lighting.
5. I pretend to work. They pretend to pay me.
6. You! Off my planet!!
7. Practice random acts of intelligence & senseless acts of
self-control.
8. I like cats too. Let's exchange recipes.
9. Did the aliens forget to remove your anal probe?
10. And your crybaby whiny-assed opinion would be...?
11. How many times do I have to flush before you go away?
12. Aw, did I step on your poor little bitty ego?
13. How do I set a laser printer to stun?
14. I'm not tense, just terribly, terribly alert.
15. When I want your opinion, I'll give it to you.
16. Earth is full, Go home.
1. I can see your point, but I still think you're full of shit.
2. I have plenty of talent and vision. I just don't give a fuck.
3. How about "never"? Is "never" good for you?
4. It sounds like English, but I can't understand a word you're
saying.
5. I see you've set aside this special time to humiliate yourself
in public.
6. Ahhh, I see the fuck-up fairy has visited us again.
7. You are validating my inherent mistrust of strangers.
8. I'm already visualising the duct tape over your mouth.
9. The fact that no one understands you doesn't mean you're an
artist.
10. Someday, we'll look back on this, laugh nervously and change the
subject.
11. I will always cherish the initial misconceptions I had about
you.
12. I don't know what your problem is, but I'll bet it's hard to
pronounce.
13. Any connection between your reality and mine is purely
coincidental.
14. I like you. You remind me of when I was young and stupid.
15. What am I? Flypaper for freaks!?
16. I'm not being rude. You're just insignificant.
17. Thank you. We're all refreshed and challenged by your unique
point of view.
18. It's a thankless job, but I've got a lot of Karma to burn off.
19. Yes, I am an agent of Satan, but my duties are largely ceremonial.
20. No, my powers can only be used for good.
21. I'm really easy to get along with once people learn to worship me.
22. You sound reasonable......time to up my medication.
23. I'll try being nicer if you'll try being smarter.
24. I'm out of my mind, but feel free to leave a message.
25. I don't work here. I'm a consultant.
26. Who me? I just wander from room to room.
27. My toys! My toys! I can't do this job without my toys!:
For those HIGH STRESS days
1. Well, aren't we just a ray of fucking sunshine?
2. Not the brightest crayon in the box now, are we?
3. Do I look like a fucking people person?
4. This isn't an office. It's Hell with fluorescent lighting.
5. I pretend to work. They pretend to pay me.
6. You! Off my planet!!
7. Practice random acts of intelligence & senseless acts of
self-control.
8. I like cats too. Let's exchange recipes.
9. Did the aliens forget to remove your anal probe?
10. And your crybaby whiny-assed opinion would be...?
11. How many times do I have to flush before you go away?
12. Aw, did I step on your poor little bitty ego?
13. How do I set a laser printer to stun?
14. I'm not tense, just terribly, terribly alert.
15. When I want your opinion, I'll give it to you.
16. Earth is full, Go home.
Post ID: 79881518
As far as I know there's no generic name for Nazi parades, (although I have to add that my German is on par with my ability to deal with reality). But the grande dame of Nazi parade footage comes from "Triumph des Willens" - Leni Riefenstahl's masterpiece documentary/propaganda film of the sixth Nazi Party Congress.
The Nazis didn't have those open-close flag-book things that the crowd flips to make giant patterns though. Now we know why they lost the war.
The Nazis didn't have those open-close flag-book things that the crowd flips to make giant patterns though. Now we know why they lost the war.
Post ID: 79879204
Forgot to add that Peggy and the other president scholars came back during assembly to give us " inspirational talks " this morning....Arggghh....
I've got to say that hers was way better than the rest. The first one sounded like some med fac guy who speaks politically correct boring, cliched speaches and he sounded like the PAP. The second was Peggy who was quite OK since she spoke sincerely. And the third was some engine guy (i think) judging from his not so good quality of English, and his speech was about slacking your whole JC life away and having fun but that we should thank the marvellous teachers we have in RJ to help pull us through. Har Har Har. Confessions of a slacker who got the oh-so-prestigious-scholarship anyway.
Then we met Peggy while my IPW grp was discussing stuff at the vandalised table.
She needed directions to the geography room which just happened to be next door...that's when I realised that she was from AO1 and not AO3. Bah.
I've got to say that hers was way better than the rest. The first one sounded like some med fac guy who speaks politically correct boring, cliched speaches and he sounded like the PAP. The second was Peggy who was quite OK since she spoke sincerely. And the third was some engine guy (i think) judging from his not so good quality of English, and his speech was about slacking your whole JC life away and having fun but that we should thank the marvellous teachers we have in RJ to help pull us through. Har Har Har. Confessions of a slacker who got the oh-so-prestigious-scholarship anyway.
Then we met Peggy while my IPW grp was discussing stuff at the vandalised table.
She needed directions to the geography room which just happened to be next door...that's when I realised that she was from AO1 and not AO3. Bah.
Post ID: 79878030
I absolutely abhor NKF personnel. They always have to get all the ah lian looking girls to come give us the talks and yechao says that it's prob because noone else would want that sorta job.
Then they start giving you doomsday messages about how you should eat this and that or else die and have yakult straws poked into you for kidney dialysis...
That's not all. They also play the stupid same old Darryl David video again and again and again, year after year! Tell the government to please change the darn corny thing! It's not even sincere! Except for the accounts of the many Malays who suffer from kidney failure. ( Why are they always malays ah? Diet?) I've watched the bloody video 4 times already in my entire school life. From primary to secondary to JC. Can't they show us something new? You would think that they'd have enough money to invest in a new video, watching all they waste on a silly national day parade.
Yechao thinks that the NDP is like some hitler thingey...he drew parallels to the kind of parades that hitler advocated. What were the parades called hm? Can't remember.
The video, if you can remember, is really darn stupid, with this nerdy looking guy pretending to exercise and lead a healthy lifestyle! *perky voice*
ugh.
Why do they waste their time coming to RJ to get bombarded by people who're way smarter than them in their knowledge of these things anyway??? Really don't get it.
Then they start giving you doomsday messages about how you should eat this and that or else die and have yakult straws poked into you for kidney dialysis...
That's not all. They also play the stupid same old Darryl David video again and again and again, year after year! Tell the government to please change the darn corny thing! It's not even sincere! Except for the accounts of the many Malays who suffer from kidney failure. ( Why are they always malays ah? Diet?) I've watched the bloody video 4 times already in my entire school life. From primary to secondary to JC. Can't they show us something new? You would think that they'd have enough money to invest in a new video, watching all they waste on a silly national day parade.
Yechao thinks that the NDP is like some hitler thingey...he drew parallels to the kind of parades that hitler advocated. What were the parades called hm? Can't remember.
The video, if you can remember, is really darn stupid, with this nerdy looking guy pretending to exercise and lead a healthy lifestyle! *perky voice*
ugh.
Why do they waste their time coming to RJ to get bombarded by people who're way smarter than them in their knowledge of these things anyway??? Really don't get it.
Post ID: 79877870
"Cujus est solum, ejus est usque ad coelum et ad inferos."
I wonder if this applies to apartments?
In any event, one of my alternate residences is landed property, and it's time to break out the bloody Sdkfz 7 flak guns!
I wonder if this applies to apartments?
In any event, one of my alternate residences is landed property, and it's time to break out the bloody Sdkfz 7 flak guns!
Post ID: 79869019
Monday, August 05, 2002
Hi guys! and one gal...rite? If I'm not wrong?
I'm still rather blur as to who's on the team.
Heh heh. Guess what! I'm here to join all of ya!! ~wooohooo~
Won't blog much today. Just decided to drop a note so that you all will know of my existance and not think that some weirdo ghost came flittering onto this plain boring ole thing of a blog. *oops, I didn't say that*
You may see some strange going-ons from now on...
Heh
heh
heh.
Adios amigos
I'm still rather blur as to who's on the team.
Heh heh. Guess what! I'm here to join all of ya!! ~wooohooo~
Won't blog much today. Just decided to drop a note so that you all will know of my existance and not think that some weirdo ghost came flittering onto this plain boring ole thing of a blog. *oops, I didn't say that*
You may see some strange going-ons from now on...
Heh
heh
heh.
Adios amigos
Post ID: 79846547
To act as a foil to all the pinups of Japanese girls in bikinis in my bunk, I have just printed out 3 pictures of none other than Wo-Hen Nankan!
Intriguingly, both Xephyris and Geraldine knew just whose visage I was going to print out when I mooted the idea to them. They know me so well.
In other news, the packet of Balsamic Vinegar and Sea Salt Kettle Chips has reappeared, together with some other food that went missing from my room, hanging on the back gate of my house! So my sister didn't devour it after all.
Actually I *could* pay Andrew to ship Kettle over but... Ah.
Intriguingly, both Xephyris and Geraldine knew just whose visage I was going to print out when I mooted the idea to them. They know me so well.
In other news, the packet of Balsamic Vinegar and Sea Salt Kettle Chips has reappeared, together with some other food that went missing from my room, hanging on the back gate of my house! So my sister didn't devour it after all.
Actually I *could* pay Andrew to ship Kettle over but... Ah.
Post ID: 79843124
Restored Post
I have somewhat of a headache after confinement, so I'll trim the following a bit.
After the 8KM (woah) run cum Games Day on Thursday, we were taught "Connect Part 2". Now, rabid readers will remember that the original Connect involves the CO laying his hand out, and people touching it, and everyone else touching each other, such that if a bolt of lightning were to hit any of us, we'd all be fried to a crisp. Now, some bright guy came up with "Part 2". This incredibly inane act involves everyone holding hands - yes, holding hands. So much for macho-ism!. Everyone stands and points their right palms down and left palms up. Then they all link hands and stand in a giant circle facing inwards. When given the go ahead, they all turn to their right, such that everyone is facing outwards and their hands are in awkward positions. Then, they turn back to the left. Everyone then runs towards the centre of the circle and shouts "The Cutting Edge". Sheesh.
CDAC came down to give our unit a talk, and I was left wondering why it was compulsory for all of us to go. For one, only Chinese qualified for CDAC programmes, and looking around, I saw quite a few Indians seated in the auditorium. Also, the subsidies they offered were available for those with O level qualifications and below only, so all us medics were there just to enjoy the air-conditioning. The speaker was not atrociously bad - just bad, and irritatingly, she tried to act cute - she'd squeak at the end of every few sentences.
I was reading the Computer Times, and there was a guest article from a 10 year old NYPS Student in Primary 4. I was rather amused to find that the NYPS boy actually wrote better, both in style and in content, than most of the writers that the Computer Times employs (which explains why I don't usually read the Computer Times even when both of us are available).
At the last minute, I was asked to take over duty on Saturday, which suited me just fine - I exchanged my duty on the 12th for it, so I can now go to Melbourne (unless the SAF plays me out, which it'd better not).
Compared to my hellish Tuesday duty, when I was bedevilled by all manner of problems, Saturday duty was positively relaxing. The first half of the morning was spent half-slumbering, with Symphony 92.4 on in the background, and I was interrupted only when, mid-way through the Sleigh Ride from Prokofiev's Troika, I was brought back to consciousness to attend to someone from my unit who was reporting sick, as the other 42SAR medics had all gone to do dirty work at the NDp rehearsal.
When I flipped through the sick bay records, I saw that one guy'd saw a rat one day. At the time, I was rather amused by the entry, but I had no fewer than 3 sightings in my tour of duty! The first was when I opened the pantry's dustbin to throw away the remnants of lunch, and saw 2 smallish, slightly cute rats perched on the rim. Later, a large, unbelievably fast rat ran across my path when I entered the pantry, and later ran across the counter, up a pipe and disappeared into a hole in the ceiling. And the final sighting was of the same big rat the next morning - when I opened the door, the rat emerged from the styrofoam box where the food was kept and ran up the same hole in the ceiling. On examination, I found that the box'd been nibbled through, and a styrofoam packet containing the previous day's dinner had been nibbled through. I hope that the rat dies a horrible death from styrofoam poisoning!
Saturday's lunch was rather spectacular for SAF food - half a fried spring chicken, some wedges, a butter roll, a tomato and peas. It's probably the first pseudo-Western SAF meal I've eaten that doesn't include rice in some form or other, and I think this is what Iskandar was talking about when he described the Western food in SISPEC that the trainees actually looked forward to eating - "You wouldn't think SAF could cook good Western food". It was a touch soggy, but much better than the fare we usually get. And some people didn't want their shares (I think the duty ambulance drivers had all run back to their bunks or booked out even), so I ate another share. And I was lucky I did, for dinner was HOT, and I touched not a grain of rice, nor a sliver of otar, nor a shred of Chicken Rendang (at least I think it was Chicken Rendang) nor a single long bean.
The 46SAR Senior Medic asked me to stay in the Senior Medics' Room to make sure that the foreign workers painting the room wouldn't abscond with any documents (I can just imagine it - Bangladeshi workers who can't read English want to get the duty list so they know when to raid the pantry), and it was tolerable, though less comfortable than the sickbay where there was a radio and it was cooler. After a while, the workers turned off the air-conditioning so they could do their work, so I sweltered in the room for a length of time. After they turned it on again, I thought that would be the last of the discomfort, but just before they ran off for the day, they turned it off again, so the Standby Medic and I had to go turn on the Compressors on the roof, and search for the master air-con power panel. Evil Banglas!
I was lounging on the sickbay bed at night when the Duty Medic opened the door and said, "Send Patient". I scurried to change, only to have him coming in half a minute later and admitting that he'd tricked me. Grr.
Learning about my confinement, the Standby Medic remarked that my CSM was very "fucked up", and that he always gave people confinements. Looking at the reasons some people got confined, I am flabbergasted. Perhaps the most outrageous so far is - "Lack of effort during Battalion Run x 1 confinement". Apparently these people were walking during the Life run, and so warrant a burnt day off.
After I'd handed over my duty, I went for my confinement. At first I'd thought that the 3 of us confined Medics would get to spend the whole day sleeping, but we were presented with a seemingly endless list of chores to accomplish - cleaning the vehicle sheds, vehicle washing points, the multi-purpose hall (MPH), the canteen area... However, in the end, the Company Orderly Sergeant (COS) supervising us was quite lenient, so at about 10 we went back to the bunk and slept until almost 2, when we went to do more work. This ended at around 4pm, and we went back to sleep. In the end, I was so full of sleep that I got a headache whenever I closed my eyes.
I was reading the NDP programme, and there was this maze:
"Jo'an needs help!
Jo'an needs to make her way home to where the heart is. Can you help her get there?"
And the cartoon of her was very. Unrecognisable.
I wonder what she thinks of being made into a cartoon character for a maze. And also of her name appearing in every post I pen that has to do with NDP (Hey, she's the star, so naturally her name'll appear a lot).
There was some charity show showing on Channel 8 (I am one of the few in the bunk who watches English-language television, so usually I am relegated to watching, if I please, badly dubbed Japanese/Korean/Hong Kong dramas which thankfully are subbed so I can comprehend what is going on), with people skipping. At first, they were skipping to the most recognisable part of "Les Toreadors" from Carmen - a 15 second clip looped for 5 minutes. Needless to say, I was ready to tear my hair out. Later in their act, as they started to progress to stunts of increasing complexity, their greenness became evident as they kept fouling up - getting tangled in the ropes, stepping on the ropes and such. This incompetence only elicited ever more frequent and ever more enthusiastic cries of encouragement from both the hosts and the audience. So much for achieving a requisite standard for for National Television.
At the Staff Parade at night, where all the confinees and duty personnel from my unit were required to report, 3 people were awarded yet another confinement (on top of the one they were currently serving) because they were "late" - but then the official time for the Staff Parade was 9:45pm, and the Duty Officer (DO) decided to hold it at 9:30pm. Ahh, the injustice of our meagre existences.
Monday morning, I was never so happy to see my 11B (Singapore Armed Forces Identity Card).
Things to do: Get the boring gray T-shirt which says "ARMY" in bold, stark letters at the back, and write "SUCKS" with a marker at the bottom. I've ~$179 of credit left for the year, mayhap I shall try this!
Fain, soon shall I up the ante and bring more intelligent reading material than Raymond E Feist and Janny Wurt's "Servant of the Empire" (which is a good book, at any rate) to my not-so-gilded. Perchance Thucydides' The History of the Peloponnesian War, or Plutarch's Lives of the Ancients, both of which currently gather dust on my bookshelf. All the stuff on my "to read" list - now is the time to cut it down to size. If I find the time.
Quotes:
"[On Yiliang's numerous printouts of Japanese girls in bikinis, tacked all around the bunk] You better get a girlfriend, understand? This is fucking dangerous."
"[On discharging the ammunition given for guard duty] I think a flag will come out"
"Orgy with 20 RGS girls. All of them have [nick]names... You have a large frame, so it's possible... They all go back and wear their RGS outfits" - Tim The Great" (!@#$%^&*())
"You'll make a good priest, you have a very bad sense of humour"
"ATC celebrates Sinagapore 37th birthday (Singapore's)" - Sign. You'd think they'd be able to get at least the spelling of our country's name correct, but NOOOO.
I have somewhat of a headache after confinement, so I'll trim the following a bit.
After the 8KM (woah) run cum Games Day on Thursday, we were taught "Connect Part 2". Now, rabid readers will remember that the original Connect involves the CO laying his hand out, and people touching it, and everyone else touching each other, such that if a bolt of lightning were to hit any of us, we'd all be fried to a crisp. Now, some bright guy came up with "Part 2". This incredibly inane act involves everyone holding hands - yes, holding hands. So much for macho-ism!. Everyone stands and points their right palms down and left palms up. Then they all link hands and stand in a giant circle facing inwards. When given the go ahead, they all turn to their right, such that everyone is facing outwards and their hands are in awkward positions. Then, they turn back to the left. Everyone then runs towards the centre of the circle and shouts "The Cutting Edge". Sheesh.
CDAC came down to give our unit a talk, and I was left wondering why it was compulsory for all of us to go. For one, only Chinese qualified for CDAC programmes, and looking around, I saw quite a few Indians seated in the auditorium. Also, the subsidies they offered were available for those with O level qualifications and below only, so all us medics were there just to enjoy the air-conditioning. The speaker was not atrociously bad - just bad, and irritatingly, she tried to act cute - she'd squeak at the end of every few sentences.
I was reading the Computer Times, and there was a guest article from a 10 year old NYPS Student in Primary 4. I was rather amused to find that the NYPS boy actually wrote better, both in style and in content, than most of the writers that the Computer Times employs (which explains why I don't usually read the Computer Times even when both of us are available).
At the last minute, I was asked to take over duty on Saturday, which suited me just fine - I exchanged my duty on the 12th for it, so I can now go to Melbourne (unless the SAF plays me out, which it'd better not).
Compared to my hellish Tuesday duty, when I was bedevilled by all manner of problems, Saturday duty was positively relaxing. The first half of the morning was spent half-slumbering, with Symphony 92.4 on in the background, and I was interrupted only when, mid-way through the Sleigh Ride from Prokofiev's Troika, I was brought back to consciousness to attend to someone from my unit who was reporting sick, as the other 42SAR medics had all gone to do dirty work at the NDp rehearsal.
When I flipped through the sick bay records, I saw that one guy'd saw a rat one day. At the time, I was rather amused by the entry, but I had no fewer than 3 sightings in my tour of duty! The first was when I opened the pantry's dustbin to throw away the remnants of lunch, and saw 2 smallish, slightly cute rats perched on the rim. Later, a large, unbelievably fast rat ran across my path when I entered the pantry, and later ran across the counter, up a pipe and disappeared into a hole in the ceiling. And the final sighting was of the same big rat the next morning - when I opened the door, the rat emerged from the styrofoam box where the food was kept and ran up the same hole in the ceiling. On examination, I found that the box'd been nibbled through, and a styrofoam packet containing the previous day's dinner had been nibbled through. I hope that the rat dies a horrible death from styrofoam poisoning!
Saturday's lunch was rather spectacular for SAF food - half a fried spring chicken, some wedges, a butter roll, a tomato and peas. It's probably the first pseudo-Western SAF meal I've eaten that doesn't include rice in some form or other, and I think this is what Iskandar was talking about when he described the Western food in SISPEC that the trainees actually looked forward to eating - "You wouldn't think SAF could cook good Western food". It was a touch soggy, but much better than the fare we usually get. And some people didn't want their shares (I think the duty ambulance drivers had all run back to their bunks or booked out even), so I ate another share. And I was lucky I did, for dinner was HOT, and I touched not a grain of rice, nor a sliver of otar, nor a shred of Chicken Rendang (at least I think it was Chicken Rendang) nor a single long bean.
The 46SAR Senior Medic asked me to stay in the Senior Medics' Room to make sure that the foreign workers painting the room wouldn't abscond with any documents (I can just imagine it - Bangladeshi workers who can't read English want to get the duty list so they know when to raid the pantry), and it was tolerable, though less comfortable than the sickbay where there was a radio and it was cooler. After a while, the workers turned off the air-conditioning so they could do their work, so I sweltered in the room for a length of time. After they turned it on again, I thought that would be the last of the discomfort, but just before they ran off for the day, they turned it off again, so the Standby Medic and I had to go turn on the Compressors on the roof, and search for the master air-con power panel. Evil Banglas!
I was lounging on the sickbay bed at night when the Duty Medic opened the door and said, "Send Patient". I scurried to change, only to have him coming in half a minute later and admitting that he'd tricked me. Grr.
Learning about my confinement, the Standby Medic remarked that my CSM was very "fucked up", and that he always gave people confinements. Looking at the reasons some people got confined, I am flabbergasted. Perhaps the most outrageous so far is - "Lack of effort during Battalion Run x 1 confinement". Apparently these people were walking during the Life run, and so warrant a burnt day off.
After I'd handed over my duty, I went for my confinement. At first I'd thought that the 3 of us confined Medics would get to spend the whole day sleeping, but we were presented with a seemingly endless list of chores to accomplish - cleaning the vehicle sheds, vehicle washing points, the multi-purpose hall (MPH), the canteen area... However, in the end, the Company Orderly Sergeant (COS) supervising us was quite lenient, so at about 10 we went back to the bunk and slept until almost 2, when we went to do more work. This ended at around 4pm, and we went back to sleep. In the end, I was so full of sleep that I got a headache whenever I closed my eyes.
I was reading the NDP programme, and there was this maze:
"Jo'an needs help!
Jo'an needs to make her way home to where the heart is. Can you help her get there?"
And the cartoon of her was very. Unrecognisable.
I wonder what she thinks of being made into a cartoon character for a maze. And also of her name appearing in every post I pen that has to do with NDP (Hey, she's the star, so naturally her name'll appear a lot).
There was some charity show showing on Channel 8 (I am one of the few in the bunk who watches English-language television, so usually I am relegated to watching, if I please, badly dubbed Japanese/Korean/Hong Kong dramas which thankfully are subbed so I can comprehend what is going on), with people skipping. At first, they were skipping to the most recognisable part of "Les Toreadors" from Carmen - a 15 second clip looped for 5 minutes. Needless to say, I was ready to tear my hair out. Later in their act, as they started to progress to stunts of increasing complexity, their greenness became evident as they kept fouling up - getting tangled in the ropes, stepping on the ropes and such. This incompetence only elicited ever more frequent and ever more enthusiastic cries of encouragement from both the hosts and the audience. So much for achieving a requisite standard for for National Television.
At the Staff Parade at night, where all the confinees and duty personnel from my unit were required to report, 3 people were awarded yet another confinement (on top of the one they were currently serving) because they were "late" - but then the official time for the Staff Parade was 9:45pm, and the Duty Officer (DO) decided to hold it at 9:30pm. Ahh, the injustice of our meagre existences.
Monday morning, I was never so happy to see my 11B (Singapore Armed Forces Identity Card).
Things to do: Get the boring gray T-shirt which says "ARMY" in bold, stark letters at the back, and write "SUCKS" with a marker at the bottom. I've ~$179 of credit left for the year, mayhap I shall try this!
Fain, soon shall I up the ante and bring more intelligent reading material than Raymond E Feist and Janny Wurt's "Servant of the Empire" (which is a good book, at any rate) to my not-so-gilded. Perchance Thucydides' The History of the Peloponnesian War, or Plutarch's Lives of the Ancients, both of which currently gather dust on my bookshelf. All the stuff on my "to read" list - now is the time to cut it down to size. If I find the time.
Quotes:
"[On Yiliang's numerous printouts of Japanese girls in bikinis, tacked all around the bunk] You better get a girlfriend, understand? This is fucking dangerous."
"[On discharging the ammunition given for guard duty] I think a flag will come out"
"Orgy with 20 RGS girls. All of them have [nick]names... You have a large frame, so it's possible... They all go back and wear their RGS outfits" - Tim The Great" (!@#$%^&*())
"You'll make a good priest, you have a very bad sense of humour"
"ATC celebrates Sinagapore 37th birthday (Singapore's)" - Sign. You'd think they'd be able to get at least the spelling of our country's name correct, but NOOOO.
Post ID: 79837673
The letters in the forum are always very amusing. I still remember one writer admonishing readers with an oddly phrased line, "Those who worship at the altar of materialism will say a resounding 'Yes', and the time some person suggested adding letters before and after bus numbers so you'd know which interchanges they started from and were bound to, and somehow divine where they'd stop along the way.
This time, someone wrote something so incomprehensible that I know not how to describe or deplore it:
"Plug-in problem at UOB site
I REFER to Mr Paul Chan Boon Cheow's letter, 'DBS website needed plug-ins, but unavailable' (ST, Aug 1).
I recently visited the UOB Group's website www.uobgroup.com to change my user name and password.
I, too, encountered a similar problem.
The website requested that I install the 'Java virtual machine' plug-in before I could proceed.
Users who have already installed the plug-in would not encounter the prompt, as I later found out when I visited the website using another computer.
I wonder how many banks still rely on this software, yet claim that their online facilities have high security.
CHONG KOK SENG"
Apparently this person is saying that those who install the JRE plugin will be able to bypass the security measures on the site or something. But supposedly letters "...based on incorrect information or spurious assumptions" will be rejected. Looks like a fish got through the net.
It's news commentary time! I was reading Friday's papers on Saturday and was so free that I decided to meditate briefly upon some points. So let me mount the bully pulpit for a few paragraphs (alternatively you can always switch the channel)
It seems that the Sportswomen we got from China are bringing us many Golds. Now, I do not dispute their Singaporean-ness, one of them having lived here since the early 1990s, as I recall. However, it is rather ludicrous for 3/4 of the Women's team to be China-born and bred. If this is taken to mean that Singapore is a melting pot which welcomes all manner of people, then what about the Vietnamese Boat People of yesteryear? To my knowledge, not content with merely deporting them, the government decided to give them a souvenir in the form of some strokes of the cane, before shipping them back to the totalitarian regime of Vietnam. And the same goes for all the other unwelcome ones. Of course other countries do the same - I caught a glimpse of the New Zealand vs Singapore Womens' Doubles match, and it turned out that it was a match between 4 China-borns. Most amusing.
There was also an article on proactive parenting. It was about how some parents take great interest in, and actively strive to improve, their childrens' academic performance. As examples, the article gave how one mother attends all her daughter's birthday parties, so she can keep in contact with the parents of children who do well in their studies, and ask them how they do so well. Another moved house three times within the same neighbourhood to keep ties with parents whose children could achieve good results academically. One spends $24,000 a year in tuition fees for her children, and sends the tender minds for endless classes and a battery of psychiatric and psychological tests to identify problems and improve their performance in school. And a last doesn't buy toys for her children. I'm sure many or most (not parents) would find this behaviour repugnant, but the article implied that this sort of behaviour was good and should be encouraged. A testament to how disgustingly warped and pathetic kiasuism has made Singaporean society.
Some time in the past, I was ranting that the SAT I's "Verbal" section was inexplicably named, for it was written. My apologies, for I have checked it up and found that "verbal" and "oral" do not necessarily mean the same thing.
Lyrics to the farting song!
Word of the day: "quodlibet"
This time, someone wrote something so incomprehensible that I know not how to describe or deplore it:
"Plug-in problem at UOB site
I REFER to Mr Paul Chan Boon Cheow's letter, 'DBS website needed plug-ins, but unavailable' (ST, Aug 1).
I recently visited the UOB Group's website www.uobgroup.com to change my user name and password.
I, too, encountered a similar problem.
The website requested that I install the 'Java virtual machine' plug-in before I could proceed.
Users who have already installed the plug-in would not encounter the prompt, as I later found out when I visited the website using another computer.
I wonder how many banks still rely on this software, yet claim that their online facilities have high security.
CHONG KOK SENG"
Apparently this person is saying that those who install the JRE plugin will be able to bypass the security measures on the site or something. But supposedly letters "...based on incorrect information or spurious assumptions" will be rejected. Looks like a fish got through the net.
It's news commentary time! I was reading Friday's papers on Saturday and was so free that I decided to meditate briefly upon some points. So let me mount the bully pulpit for a few paragraphs (alternatively you can always switch the channel)
It seems that the Sportswomen we got from China are bringing us many Golds. Now, I do not dispute their Singaporean-ness, one of them having lived here since the early 1990s, as I recall. However, it is rather ludicrous for 3/4 of the Women's team to be China-born and bred. If this is taken to mean that Singapore is a melting pot which welcomes all manner of people, then what about the Vietnamese Boat People of yesteryear? To my knowledge, not content with merely deporting them, the government decided to give them a souvenir in the form of some strokes of the cane, before shipping them back to the totalitarian regime of Vietnam. And the same goes for all the other unwelcome ones. Of course other countries do the same - I caught a glimpse of the New Zealand vs Singapore Womens' Doubles match, and it turned out that it was a match between 4 China-borns. Most amusing.
There was also an article on proactive parenting. It was about how some parents take great interest in, and actively strive to improve, their childrens' academic performance. As examples, the article gave how one mother attends all her daughter's birthday parties, so she can keep in contact with the parents of children who do well in their studies, and ask them how they do so well. Another moved house three times within the same neighbourhood to keep ties with parents whose children could achieve good results academically. One spends $24,000 a year in tuition fees for her children, and sends the tender minds for endless classes and a battery of psychiatric and psychological tests to identify problems and improve their performance in school. And a last doesn't buy toys for her children. I'm sure many or most (not parents) would find this behaviour repugnant, but the article implied that this sort of behaviour was good and should be encouraged. A testament to how disgustingly warped and pathetic kiasuism has made Singaporean society.
Some time in the past, I was ranting that the SAT I's "Verbal" section was inexplicably named, for it was written. My apologies, for I have checked it up and found that "verbal" and "oral" do not necessarily mean the same thing.
Lyrics to the farting song!
Word of the day: "quodlibet"
Post ID: 79836673
Quick search engine referral update:
"chij sex" - now which branch of the franchise school that is the Convent of the Holy Infant Jesus would this person be looking for? My sister disparages convent girls, but she's always been biased.
"who dares wins ringtone" - the theme song for the show is rather irritating, I must admit. And I've seen this query more than a few times. Mayhap I shall come up with something so these souls won't be disappointed!
"teo shiyi" - looks like people still want to find out more about the President's Scholars. Too bad they won't find any information on the rest here. I must admit I know nothing about Yeo Wenshan. My only interaction with Kevin Siew is during a Maths Lecture when he told me to go see Leong Yew Wah about my anti-purple posters :) And Peggy Pao Peiyu once asked me if I had "PalmSutra" on my Palm IIIc, probably thanks to Ravi Abraham Varghese (Indra) [NB: I never found out why he was always so upset when I appended 'Indra' to the end of his name, such that the first letters of each word spelt out 'RAVI', and I never accepted his claim that 'Indra' meant 'Idiot' in Malay/some Indian language] and Paul Wong's going around telling everyone that I did.
"primary schoolgirl sex pic" - I've no preteen porn! Really!
"chij sex" - now which branch of the franchise school that is the Convent of the Holy Infant Jesus would this person be looking for? My sister disparages convent girls, but she's always been biased.
"who dares wins ringtone" - the theme song for the show is rather irritating, I must admit. And I've seen this query more than a few times. Mayhap I shall come up with something so these souls won't be disappointed!
"teo shiyi" - looks like people still want to find out more about the President's Scholars. Too bad they won't find any information on the rest here. I must admit I know nothing about Yeo Wenshan. My only interaction with Kevin Siew is during a Maths Lecture when he told me to go see Leong Yew Wah about my anti-purple posters :) And Peggy Pao Peiyu once asked me if I had "PalmSutra" on my Palm IIIc, probably thanks to Ravi Abraham Varghese (Indra) [NB: I never found out why he was always so upset when I appended 'Indra' to the end of his name, such that the first letters of each word spelt out 'RAVI', and I never accepted his claim that 'Indra' meant 'Idiot' in Malay/some Indian language] and Paul Wong's going around telling everyone that I did.
"primary schoolgirl sex pic" - I've no preteen porn! Really!
Post ID: 79828293
The Straight Dope always
unearths all sorts of fun stuff
http://www.maximonline.com/entertainment/articles/article_3899.html
Copy Rats
Is plagiarism rampant in one Mickey Mouse organization?
Maxim, December 2000
by David Jacobson
In the most disturbing news since our presidential election, a jury
found the ultrahuggable Walt Disney Co. guilty of stealing ideas for
its Wide World of Sports complex from a former baseball umpire in
Buffalo and an architect from Canada. Though Disney reportedly will
appeal the $240 million verdict, the case is a reminder of the many
brilliant ideas that Disney has swiped from other sources over the
years:
The original concept for 101 Dalmatians was lifted from a low-budget
Italian horror flick, Notte dei Cani di Spotti (Night of the Spotted
Dogs), in which a crazy woman skins stray puppies to make a coat. In
a final act of revenge, the hyperactive hounds rise from the grave
and tear her apart like a rawhide chew toy.
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, the word supposedly coined by
Mary Poppins to make kids sound �precocious,� was actually invented
by turn-of-the-century Scottish coal miners. It was used to request
�the works� from prostitutes by men too shy to recite specific acts.
Lumi�re, the anthropomorphic candle in 1991�s Beauty and the Beast,
draws his inspiration from the Buddhist monks who set themselves
afire to protest America�s involvement in the Vietnam War. Ignoring
the advice of their legal counsel, the even-tempered Buddhists
elected not to sue Disney over the matter.
Flubber, the �flying rubber� in The Absent-minded Professor (and the
heartwarming Robin Williams remake), was in fact a real product
created by DuPont in the late 1950s. It was never marketed because
of problems with the shipping and shelving of levitating inventory.
Woody, the action-figure hero of Toy Story, is a rip-off of the
cowboy from The Village People. Check out the way he moves; it�s
pretty obvious.
Cinderella�s Castle at Disney�s Magic Kingdom is an exact copy of
one built by the Marquis de Sade in 18th-century France. Duplicating
the features of the sadomasochist�s lair was an inside joke among
park designers that wasn�t noticed until it was too late.
�It�s a Small World (After All),� the song chanted by hundreds of
mechanical dolls on the classic Disneyworld boat ride, was penned in
1948 and intended to be the United Nations anthem. But the
psychotically sweet refrain only inflamed international tensions and
caused the United Nations to quickly drop it.
From the Langalist:
"Investment strategy for today's market:"
If you had bought $1000.00 worth of Nortel stock one year ago, it would now be worth $49.00.
With Enron, you would have $16.50 of the original $1,000.00. With Worldcom, you would have less than $5.00 left.
If you had bought $1,000.00 worth of Budweiser (the beer, not the stock) one year ago, drank all the beer, then turned in the cans for the 10 cent deposit, you would have $214.00.
Based on the above, my current investment advice is to drink heavily and recycle.
Ooo, GPS Drawing!
I swear the E-learning centre somehow blocks Blogger. Or rather it blocks all ways of transferring data over the web - both adding attachments in Hotmail and Yahoo, and Geocities Easy Upload don't work either.
unearths all sorts of fun stuff
http://www.maximonline.com/entertainment/articles/article_3899.html
Copy Rats
Is plagiarism rampant in one Mickey Mouse organization?
Maxim, December 2000
by David Jacobson
In the most disturbing news since our presidential election, a jury
found the ultrahuggable Walt Disney Co. guilty of stealing ideas for
its Wide World of Sports complex from a former baseball umpire in
Buffalo and an architect from Canada. Though Disney reportedly will
appeal the $240 million verdict, the case is a reminder of the many
brilliant ideas that Disney has swiped from other sources over the
years:
The original concept for 101 Dalmatians was lifted from a low-budget
Italian horror flick, Notte dei Cani di Spotti (Night of the Spotted
Dogs), in which a crazy woman skins stray puppies to make a coat. In
a final act of revenge, the hyperactive hounds rise from the grave
and tear her apart like a rawhide chew toy.
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, the word supposedly coined by
Mary Poppins to make kids sound �precocious,� was actually invented
by turn-of-the-century Scottish coal miners. It was used to request
�the works� from prostitutes by men too shy to recite specific acts.
Lumi�re, the anthropomorphic candle in 1991�s Beauty and the Beast,
draws his inspiration from the Buddhist monks who set themselves
afire to protest America�s involvement in the Vietnam War. Ignoring
the advice of their legal counsel, the even-tempered Buddhists
elected not to sue Disney over the matter.
Flubber, the �flying rubber� in The Absent-minded Professor (and the
heartwarming Robin Williams remake), was in fact a real product
created by DuPont in the late 1950s. It was never marketed because
of problems with the shipping and shelving of levitating inventory.
Woody, the action-figure hero of Toy Story, is a rip-off of the
cowboy from The Village People. Check out the way he moves; it�s
pretty obvious.
Cinderella�s Castle at Disney�s Magic Kingdom is an exact copy of
one built by the Marquis de Sade in 18th-century France. Duplicating
the features of the sadomasochist�s lair was an inside joke among
park designers that wasn�t noticed until it was too late.
�It�s a Small World (After All),� the song chanted by hundreds of
mechanical dolls on the classic Disneyworld boat ride, was penned in
1948 and intended to be the United Nations anthem. But the
psychotically sweet refrain only inflamed international tensions and
caused the United Nations to quickly drop it.
From the Langalist:
"Investment strategy for today's market:"
If you had bought $1000.00 worth of Nortel stock one year ago, it would now be worth $49.00.
With Enron, you would have $16.50 of the original $1,000.00. With Worldcom, you would have less than $5.00 left.
If you had bought $1,000.00 worth of Budweiser (the beer, not the stock) one year ago, drank all the beer, then turned in the cans for the 10 cent deposit, you would have $214.00.
Based on the above, my current investment advice is to drink heavily and recycle.
Ooo, GPS Drawing!
I swear the E-learning centre somehow blocks Blogger. Or rather it blocks all ways of transferring data over the web - both adding attachments in Hotmail and Yahoo, and Geocities Easy Upload don't work either.
Post ID: 79826088
Sunday, August 04, 2002
"Landmark Books anthology on National Service
Landmark Books is producing a volume of prose and poetry on the theme of National Service (italicised because some people apparently took my national servitude Unix backspace joke at face value and sent in S&M poetry), to mark its 35th year. The editors will be Koh Buck Song and Umej Bhatia. While what I feel about the topic would probably not be publishable here, more publishable submissions for the anthology are invited, and should be sent to bookmark@pacific.net.sg by 3 August 2002. "
From QLRS
Landmark Books is producing a volume of prose and poetry on the theme of National Service (italicised because some people apparently took my national servitude Unix backspace joke at face value and sent in S&M poetry), to mark its 35th year. The editors will be Koh Buck Song and Umej Bhatia. While what I feel about the topic would probably not be publishable here, more publishable submissions for the anthology are invited, and should be sent to bookmark@pacific.net.sg by 3 August 2002. "
From QLRS
Post ID: 79805247
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