The first order of business for the day is to thrash myself soundly with a big stick.

I was looking at my digital camera, and I suddenly noticed that, due to a design feature of the knob, what I'd thought was playback mode was actually camera mode, and vice versa. With a sinking feeling in the gut of my stomach, I tried connecting the camera to the laptop. And the Twain window popped up.

So that's $23 or so for the hub, $30 for the hardware repair fee and $180 for the new AMD Athlon XP 2000 CPU spent so far on this fiasco. Hallelujah. My wits had deserted me. Mayhap it was a hex.

Anyhow, trying to solve my dilemma, I resolved to try to think like a Rational Consumer and apply Cost-Benefit analysis. Now, we assume that all costs incurred till now are sunk costs. So getting a new CPU will cost $180. A new computer would cost at least $1000, and that's already an impossibly low quote, doubtless with many corners cut. Assuming it lasts for an unrealistic 36 months, a new CPU would be good value if it lasts for more than 6.48 months. Since the hardware warranty is 1 year, rational analysis leads me to conclude that I should get the CPU. Voila. The dismal science does have its uses.

Now that that is done, here follows a retelling of my misadventures for the night.


Today was RJ Evil Cult's (Chorale) concert, Vocal Exploits XV/XVI (I forget). For a myriad of reasons, some conventional, others less so, I had some measure of desire to go down, and less than a week ago, Screwed Up Girl assured me that she'd gotten tickets for all of us. Having the wonderful luck that she has, however, her tickets got sold off, so those of us trusting in her means were screwed. However, it was widely known that The Evil One (TBS), being generous and benevolent, did not mind crashers, so I decided to attempt a crashing for perhaps the first time in my life (which tells you how much of a guai kia I am in many areas). I wouldn't have minded paying $6 for the "Raffles Junior College Building Fund", you understand, but there were simply no tickets left.

Striding into the Concourse, I was met with a barricade, manned by faithful students (probably Councillors, but I didn't look at their badges). Filling up a SARS declaration form, I honestly (if stupidly) ticked yes under "Do you have a cough etc" - since I lie badly and my coughs would have attracted attention anyhow - and was thus turned away by David Liew and friends, as the school somehow did not have any thermometers on hand. Dammit, I am supposed to take my temperature twice daily in camp anyway. I should have brought my own. Anyhow, I was asked to leave, and offered a refund of my ticket, but not having paid anything, I felt compelled to turn down this offer (as I did again later, when I was offered a refund yet again).

Exiting the school and mulling over my options, David, Adela and a certain person who shall remain unnamed (and whose pimples have considerably decreased since the last time I saw him/her - good for him/her!) appeared from some vehicles and egged me on, pointing out that I'd gone all the way there already. And so, refusing to slink away ignominiously, my tail hanging between my legs, I drew upon the intimate knowledge of the RJC school compound I have, which only alumni possess, and secreted myself into the complex by means of a secret entrance (through the science labs), a dilapidated looking area which they'd neglected to barricade.

Skulking around in the shadows by the back gate, waiting for the concert to start and the wakeful vigilance of the ushers to lapse, I was accosted by this girl in beach wear, who called, "Mr Liew!" after me. Oh, the horror! Anyhow, after she realised I was not the person she thought I was, she and her friend stood at one end of the covered walkway and asked, "How is it?". Having no idea what in blazers they were referring to, I wagered a guess that they were waiting for people and wanted to make an impression, albeit the back gate was locked. I was wrong, and was enlightened that she was referring to the posters they'd affixed to the pillars. She then asked me what I thought they were for. Looking at the posters, I saw a vague representation of something, in modern art. I'd only an inkling of what the posters were for, so I cheated and peered closely at them, and saw "Raffles Players" at the top of them. I then replied, "Pretentious plays... Post-modernist pretentious plays" and walked off. I hope she wasn't too disheartened :)

After the concert started I tried, numerous times, to peek into LT1 and gauge the vigilance of the ushers. Amazingly, they remained watchful after the first few songs, and one even popped his head out and asked, "Do you have a ticket?", to which I replied, "No". Others loitered around the doors at various times, and were shouted at by David Liew - 'crashers not allowed' (directly contradicting the instructions of TBS himself!). I'm sure some did get in though, despite his proclamations of having checked all suspected gatecrashers and finding everything to be in order, which is a testament to my abyssal and teething crashing skills (as I said, this is the first time I have tried such a stunt) Hanging around the doors, I heard only snatches of music, so Huijun and Huimei will have to be disappointed (I am flattered that the former thinks that I am better than her in this field because I am more 'musically inclined'). I did see the new costumes, designed by the Boss himself, though. The female costume looks like Malay dress gone hideously wrong, and I will not torture my senses trying to recall its look. The male costume looks a smidgen better - mainly the green cravat has become maroon.

When the small groups came up with their items, I loitered around the LT1 area, and suddenly Shun Loong (in the Combat Medic course now!) and Zher Ee (with a nice mane now!) came running by to greet their juniors. Soon, though, the security force descended upon us three. The other two went up to talk to the choir teacher, and were accused of trying to use her to get in. We then fled to the canteen. We had nary a moment's peace, though, before David Liew came up to chase us three out. The other two proceeded to try to talk with Mr Liew, while I just smiled beatifically, if resignedly. In essence, though we were alumni, we were not even permitted to sit in the canteen, on pain of the calling of the police (even though none of us had a fever), to await the concert's end because we had 'no reason' to be in the school. In the end, we were quite disgusted. Rules are rules, but dumb rules are dumb rules, bureaucrats make a lot of silly ones, and nobody ever follows them. If David Liew wants to go by the book (as usual) though, i suppose that's his prerogative. Maybe it's just me, but RJC has become a lot more strict these days.

I was delayed a little by David Liew, who talked to me surprisingly jovially about various matters, and so lost sight of Zher Ee and Shun Loong. However, they were found, as I predicted, at the McDonalds-Soya Bean outlet in Ghim Moh - a favourite haunt of RJ students, where the former was complaining merrily away to his mother and where the soya bean I drank gave me tummy pain later. I wonder what will come of all this.

With the last hope of doing some of what I'd set out to do, I waited outside the gates. And saw Mengchuan, who proclaimed the concert to be "the best free concert ever" (Grr), and Kelvin, who had both a tulip and a rose ("I'm both a guy and a girl. Guys get tulips, girls get roses. So I'm both!")


I've been advised, on more than one occasion, that the reach of the SAF is far, and so it is not good or 'worth it' to do anything to offend it. Nonetheless, I proceed, with some measure of circumspection and level-headedness. I suppose that's the idealism of youth. Best to get things done before I get too serious-cynical and practical.