When you can't live without bananas
Wednesday, January 07, 2004
Sunday, January 04, 2004
Back to work tomorrow. Why can't I be a mainland chinese girl doing hospitality at KDU who hooked up with some rich old man??
I think I'd be a pretty good tai tai. I have most of the basic tai tai skills down pat already:
a) Abusing the domestic help
b) Organising mahjong sessions
c) Going for tai chi / line dance / meditation / yoga classes at a community center
d) Spending money
This morning, after spending a few minutes listening to the engine of destruction was Gabriel's snoring, I flogged his bulk into consciousness and after our ablutions, his parents were kind enough to ferry us to Tiong Bahru for breakfast. It dawned upon me that after virtually every drinking session during these banzai trips down south, I *always* have mee pok the following morning. Strange how habits can form without you noticing.
Bought several tubes of grape-flavoured Mentos. Always wondered why we don't have those in KL. I shall show these treasures from afar to all and sundry at work tomorrow. Their expressions of wonderment shall brighten my day.
As I crossed the border into JB, the effluent smells and the teeming chaos of Malaysia overwhelmed me at the checkpoint; and it dawned on me that that was the feeling of home - you could feel it at the border, crossing from the Realm of Order to the Realm of Chaos; from the polished marble floors of the Singapore-side checkpoint, to the stained cermaic tiling on the JB side - in the stagnant drains and taxi drivers harrassing passersby for business; watching as the crowd seemed to break from ordered, steady lines into a morass of people flooding the passport counters - and I felt a memory I need to hold on to - the memory of how good it is to be back here, despite having lost everything, amidst the crowds and noises and corners, and smells, and alleys and angles; all of that chaos singing clarion to me.
The drive from Dim's place back to KL was surprisingly crowded, as he was ferrying a couple of other people from JB. One of them had the unfortunate name of Keng Dik (sp?); the other was a junior of mine from Melbourne who did IT as well. On the trip back, I learnt much about the intricacies of Nata di Coco (a conversation that largely revolved around the miraculous properties of coconut husk), as well as taking home, once again, an awareness that these days too many people know too many other people.
Ate KFC at Ayer Keroh. First time eating in one of those "bridge-over-the-highway restaurants".
And now, as the sounds of my parents watching yet *another* Anita Mui tribute concert on TV filter into my room despite my best efforts to soundproof the door, I think I'll get some sleep, because tomorrow is going to be hellish with the double whammy of the NKVE being closed while Samy Vellu carts away rock, and the school holidays ending. It will be a long slog, full of mind-convuluting planning, and reflex-testing trials. And that's just the journey to work.
Ours not to reason why.
Friend (at party): "What's it like working in Malaysia?"
Me: "One word defines it. Traffic."
(on being stuck in a jam once, in sight of a turn-off into a carpark, less than 50m away, that took me an hour to get to through the congestion on the main road) "Reject the concept of distance. Embrace the concept of traffic."
I think I'd be a pretty good tai tai. I have most of the basic tai tai skills down pat already:
a) Abusing the domestic help
b) Organising mahjong sessions
c) Going for tai chi / line dance / meditation / yoga classes at a community center
d) Spending money
This morning, after spending a few minutes listening to the engine of destruction was Gabriel's snoring, I flogged his bulk into consciousness and after our ablutions, his parents were kind enough to ferry us to Tiong Bahru for breakfast. It dawned upon me that after virtually every drinking session during these banzai trips down south, I *always* have mee pok the following morning. Strange how habits can form without you noticing.
Bought several tubes of grape-flavoured Mentos. Always wondered why we don't have those in KL. I shall show these treasures from afar to all and sundry at work tomorrow. Their expressions of wonderment shall brighten my day.
As I crossed the border into JB, the effluent smells and the teeming chaos of Malaysia overwhelmed me at the checkpoint; and it dawned on me that that was the feeling of home - you could feel it at the border, crossing from the Realm of Order to the Realm of Chaos; from the polished marble floors of the Singapore-side checkpoint, to the stained cermaic tiling on the JB side - in the stagnant drains and taxi drivers harrassing passersby for business; watching as the crowd seemed to break from ordered, steady lines into a morass of people flooding the passport counters - and I felt a memory I need to hold on to - the memory of how good it is to be back here, despite having lost everything, amidst the crowds and noises and corners, and smells, and alleys and angles; all of that chaos singing clarion to me.
The drive from Dim's place back to KL was surprisingly crowded, as he was ferrying a couple of other people from JB. One of them had the unfortunate name of Keng Dik (sp?); the other was a junior of mine from Melbourne who did IT as well. On the trip back, I learnt much about the intricacies of Nata di Coco (a conversation that largely revolved around the miraculous properties of coconut husk), as well as taking home, once again, an awareness that these days too many people know too many other people.
Ate KFC at Ayer Keroh. First time eating in one of those "bridge-over-the-highway restaurants".
And now, as the sounds of my parents watching yet *another* Anita Mui tribute concert on TV filter into my room despite my best efforts to soundproof the door, I think I'll get some sleep, because tomorrow is going to be hellish with the double whammy of the NKVE being closed while Samy Vellu carts away rock, and the school holidays ending. It will be a long slog, full of mind-convuluting planning, and reflex-testing trials. And that's just the journey to work.
Ours not to reason why.
Friend (at party): "What's it like working in Malaysia?"
Me: "One word defines it. Traffic."
(on being stuck in a jam once, in sight of a turn-off into a carpark, less than 50m away, that took me an hour to get to through the congestion on the main road) "Reject the concept of distance. Embrace the concept of traffic."
Post ID: 107322599168360768
Medieval Pole Arms - I found this page clear, well written and interesting.
I never knew weapons such as the Spetum, Voulge or Guisarme existed. More probably, I'd seen pictures of them but didn't know what to call them beyond the generic "pole arm". I also finally know what a glaive looks like, and what I always thought to be a morning star is actually a specialised form of flail.
Also, contrary to what I was led to believe, "Swiss pikemen did not ground the pike butt to accept a cavalry charge, but rather held the rear part of the shaft higher than the front, so the points which glanced off armor would not go uselessly into the air but would be forced downward into rider or mount - at worst, into the ground to form a barrier."
Interestingly, 5 of out of 6 of the sources listed in his bibliography were published in the first 25 years of the 20th century, and the last in 1934.
I was boggled by the Principia Discordia until someone explained it to me thus: "It's basically a deliberate mindfuck, set out into the world to see how far the madness spreads."
Trivia bits:
'Cocksucker Blues' was a 1976 film about The Rolling Stones.
The movie 'Cleopatra', starring Elizabeth Taylor, was banned from Egypt in 1963 because she was a Jewish convert.
The Marx Brothers (Chico, Harpo, Groucho, and Zeppo) were actually named respectively Leonard, Adolph, Julius, and Hebert.
When young and impoverished, Pablo Picasso kept warm by burning his own paintings.
Charles Baudelaire, preferred to Wagners music, the sounds ' of a cat hung up by its tail outside a window and trying to stick to the panes of glass with its claws'.
One of Britain's most famous composers, Sir Michael Tippett, composed pieces notoriously difficult to play, At the premiere of his 'Symphony No. 2', the orchestra got lost in the middle of the piece and the conductor had to start again.
The French equivalent of 'the quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog', a sentence which contains every letter of the alphabet (useful when learning to type), is 'Allez porter ce vieux whisky au juge blond qui fume un Havane', which translates to 'Go and take this old whisky to the fair-haired judge smoking the Havana cigar'.
In the story of Cinderella, her slippers were originally fur, but they became glass because of an error in translation.
Nineteenth-century artist, Cesar Ducornet, drew with his feet - he had no arms.
Mickey mouse's Latin name is Michael Musculus.
About half the pianos in England are thought to be out of tune.
The phrase ' The 3 R's ' ( standing for 'reading, writing and arithmetic' ) was created by Sir William Curtis, who was illiterate.
Monaco's national orchestra is bigger than its army.
Richard Strauss wrote a 'gay Viennese ballet' on the subject of Whipped Cream.
During World War II, W.C. Fields kept US $50 000 in Germany 'in case the little bastard wins'.
The French composer J.B. Lully, while conducting a concert, pierced his foot with a pointed baton, and died from the resulting gangrene.
The Stone's album 'Sticky Finger's has a zip on its sleeve.
The most commonly sung song in the world - Happy birthday to you - is under copyright, the copyright runs out in 2010.
On the same day as he completed his masterpiece "The Divine Comedy", the Italian poet Dante died.
Bob Dylan turned The Beatles on to marijuana.
Actress Sarah Bernhardt played the part of Juliet (13 years old) when she was 70 years old.
The original title for the best seller 'Gone with the wind' was 'Ba! Ba! Black sheep'.
The Guinness Book of Records holds the record for being the book most often stolen from British Public Libraries.
Irving Berlin, who was born on 11 May 1888 and who composed three thousand songs in his lifetime, couldn't read music.
The Green Hornet is the Lone Ranger's grandnephew.
Some hotels in Las Vegas have gambling tables floating in their swimming pools.
The French critic, Saint-Beuve, was born on 23 December 1804. On one occasion in his life he was unfortunate enough to get involved in a duel. When asked to choose his weapons, he replied " I choose spelling, You're dead".
The longest Hollywood kiss was from the 1941 film 'You're in the Army now', it lasted 3 minutes and 3 seconds.
The music hall entertainer Nosmo King derived his stage name from a 'No Smoking' sign.
Hmm.
"My mom and dad went to an ADULT BOOKSTORE and all I got was this lousy T-Shirt
Porn Star"
Seen on a T-Shirt
I never knew weapons such as the Spetum, Voulge or Guisarme existed. More probably, I'd seen pictures of them but didn't know what to call them beyond the generic "pole arm". I also finally know what a glaive looks like, and what I always thought to be a morning star is actually a specialised form of flail.
Also, contrary to what I was led to believe, "Swiss pikemen did not ground the pike butt to accept a cavalry charge, but rather held the rear part of the shaft higher than the front, so the points which glanced off armor would not go uselessly into the air but would be forced downward into rider or mount - at worst, into the ground to form a barrier."
Interestingly, 5 of out of 6 of the sources listed in his bibliography were published in the first 25 years of the 20th century, and the last in 1934.
I was boggled by the Principia Discordia until someone explained it to me thus: "It's basically a deliberate mindfuck, set out into the world to see how far the madness spreads."
Trivia bits:
'Cocksucker Blues' was a 1976 film about The Rolling Stones.
The movie 'Cleopatra', starring Elizabeth Taylor, was banned from Egypt in 1963 because she was a Jewish convert.
The Marx Brothers (Chico, Harpo, Groucho, and Zeppo) were actually named respectively Leonard, Adolph, Julius, and Hebert.
When young and impoverished, Pablo Picasso kept warm by burning his own paintings.
Charles Baudelaire, preferred to Wagners music, the sounds ' of a cat hung up by its tail outside a window and trying to stick to the panes of glass with its claws'.
One of Britain's most famous composers, Sir Michael Tippett, composed pieces notoriously difficult to play, At the premiere of his 'Symphony No. 2', the orchestra got lost in the middle of the piece and the conductor had to start again.
The French equivalent of 'the quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog', a sentence which contains every letter of the alphabet (useful when learning to type), is 'Allez porter ce vieux whisky au juge blond qui fume un Havane', which translates to 'Go and take this old whisky to the fair-haired judge smoking the Havana cigar'.
In the story of Cinderella, her slippers were originally fur, but they became glass because of an error in translation.
Nineteenth-century artist, Cesar Ducornet, drew with his feet - he had no arms.
Mickey mouse's Latin name is Michael Musculus.
About half the pianos in England are thought to be out of tune.
The phrase ' The 3 R's ' ( standing for 'reading, writing and arithmetic' ) was created by Sir William Curtis, who was illiterate.
Monaco's national orchestra is bigger than its army.
Richard Strauss wrote a 'gay Viennese ballet' on the subject of Whipped Cream.
During World War II, W.C. Fields kept US $50 000 in Germany 'in case the little bastard wins'.
The French composer J.B. Lully, while conducting a concert, pierced his foot with a pointed baton, and died from the resulting gangrene.
The Stone's album 'Sticky Finger's has a zip on its sleeve.
The most commonly sung song in the world - Happy birthday to you - is under copyright, the copyright runs out in 2010.
On the same day as he completed his masterpiece "The Divine Comedy", the Italian poet Dante died.
Bob Dylan turned The Beatles on to marijuana.
Actress Sarah Bernhardt played the part of Juliet (13 years old) when she was 70 years old.
The original title for the best seller 'Gone with the wind' was 'Ba! Ba! Black sheep'.
The Guinness Book of Records holds the record for being the book most often stolen from British Public Libraries.
Irving Berlin, who was born on 11 May 1888 and who composed three thousand songs in his lifetime, couldn't read music.
The Green Hornet is the Lone Ranger's grandnephew.
Some hotels in Las Vegas have gambling tables floating in their swimming pools.
The French critic, Saint-Beuve, was born on 23 December 1804. On one occasion in his life he was unfortunate enough to get involved in a duel. When asked to choose his weapons, he replied " I choose spelling, You're dead".
The longest Hollywood kiss was from the 1941 film 'You're in the Army now', it lasted 3 minutes and 3 seconds.
The music hall entertainer Nosmo King derived his stage name from a 'No Smoking' sign.
Hmm.
"My mom and dad went to an ADULT BOOKSTORE and all I got was this lousy T-Shirt
Porn Star"
Seen on a T-Shirt
Post ID: 107322080071282700
Am blogging from Agagooga's humble abode at present. He was kind enough to pick me up from the vicinity of Ardmore Park, where I had been reasonably inebriated as the host of the prior gathering I was at insisted on making all his guests down straight shots of Absolut Mandarin vodka.
A few candid observations I made while wandering around town prior to my degenerate state:
a) The whore motif still appears to be a popular one amongst women these days.
b) Listening to some Filipino maids talk in this bizzarely stilted conversation stream that resembles Vulcan translation -
"what are you thinking of Brittney?"
"I am thinking what you are thinking."
"The word is bitch right?"
"I feel I am in your mind at this moment."
(I swear, this was almost what I heard, verbatim, at Atria)
c) three guys in RJC PE t-shirts who resembled Asian hobbits (couldn't tell if they had hairy feet through their sneakers). Two of them were putting the One Ring (I could see the inscription) around the other's neck, in front of the Blind Accordion Man at the Orchard Road tunnel (a friend of mine tricked me by saying the Blind Accordion Man had started a Blind Accordion Institute where he teaches blind people how to play the accordion and sing badly in public spots while making millions)
d) Toe-socks are evil, creepy, and scary.
Was at Ardmore Park because my old friend YM was having a party. I haven't seen him in years, but to behold him with a glowing ring around his neck (one of those coloured plastic monstrosities with a little bulb in it), and the One Ring text tattooed around his forearm was a bit of a shock. As Mark said: "You know those irritating flickering blue lights on beng cars? You've just become one."
Eventually spent most of the function in a corner next to a koi pool, frenziedly smoking, downing lychee martinis, and feeding the fish with cigarette butts. Was mostly talking to Gil, Mark, YM and Zee - my generation Palmerston crowd. The problem with large gatherings is the inevitable breakdown into smaller cliques - and I've never gotten the hang of the flitter-around-and-network school of partygoing.
However, I must say Ardmore Park has the nicest apartment function room I've ever seen - equipped with microwave oven, huge freezer, and coffee-maker.
YM calls those hors d'ouevres with bread, a little bit of veg, meat and cheese "open-face sandwiches".
Also enjoyed the reaffirmation of my desire to garner vast material wealth (inspired by the 8 cars I saw in the parking lot all with the same licence plate number - "3538").
Noticed with some amusement that more than a few people I knew had signed on with the SAF. I suppose all that advertising about the virtues of an army career has finally paid off. One of them was a junior of mine who did microbiology at uni (I always thought he'd end up working for Yakult) who now says he can't tell me what he's doing. Probably developing the next generation of anthrax.
At one point Mark & Zee were in a corner discussing business. Who wud've thunk it?
Eventually, after the celebrations, and watching YM retch into his swimming pool, I decided it was time to exeunt. Nevermind that I had no money, nowhere to stay, and had to stagger to Kranji at 9:00am tomorrow morning so that I could make it to JB for my friend to give me a ride home. I like living on the edge. Forward planning is for losers.
Gabriel met me in front of Borders after I had called him one million times. I was able to make it to Wheelock Place on foot only because some drunken Indonesians were staggering to Shaw Center and I sort of trailed along like a remora, direction-wise, with my fellow convoy of the inebriated. When I hit Borders, Gabriel's reassuring bulk loomed in front of me, and he was kind enough to help me stagger to a nearby mamak store where I recuperated with some cheese prata.
After a cab to his place, I am now in a slightly more lucid state, which is not very pleasant, but the Wolf Blass wine Gabriel has provided me is helping rectify that error in my condition. Tomorrow morning, I have to somehow haul ass to JB where an Dim is waiting to spirit me home in his Proton Waja. For free.
In the meantime, I shall smoke out the window in Gabriel's house, enjoy the good company , soft drinks, and general support of my incapacitated state (at one point Gabriel permitted me to ride piggyback for 50m down River Valley Road when my alcohol-impaired motor skills got too onerous), and I still don't understand why he lets me blog here when most of my entries are spent abusing him for his hypocrisy and moral self-righteousness.
A few candid observations I made while wandering around town prior to my degenerate state:
a) The whore motif still appears to be a popular one amongst women these days.
b) Listening to some Filipino maids talk in this bizzarely stilted conversation stream that resembles Vulcan translation -
"what are you thinking of Brittney?"
"I am thinking what you are thinking."
"The word is bitch right?"
"I feel I am in your mind at this moment."
(I swear, this was almost what I heard, verbatim, at Atria)
c) three guys in RJC PE t-shirts who resembled Asian hobbits (couldn't tell if they had hairy feet through their sneakers). Two of them were putting the One Ring (I could see the inscription) around the other's neck, in front of the Blind Accordion Man at the Orchard Road tunnel (a friend of mine tricked me by saying the Blind Accordion Man had started a Blind Accordion Institute where he teaches blind people how to play the accordion and sing badly in public spots while making millions)
d) Toe-socks are evil, creepy, and scary.
Was at Ardmore Park because my old friend YM was having a party. I haven't seen him in years, but to behold him with a glowing ring around his neck (one of those coloured plastic monstrosities with a little bulb in it), and the One Ring text tattooed around his forearm was a bit of a shock. As Mark said: "You know those irritating flickering blue lights on beng cars? You've just become one."
Eventually spent most of the function in a corner next to a koi pool, frenziedly smoking, downing lychee martinis, and feeding the fish with cigarette butts. Was mostly talking to Gil, Mark, YM and Zee - my generation Palmerston crowd. The problem with large gatherings is the inevitable breakdown into smaller cliques - and I've never gotten the hang of the flitter-around-and-network school of partygoing.
However, I must say Ardmore Park has the nicest apartment function room I've ever seen - equipped with microwave oven, huge freezer, and coffee-maker.
YM calls those hors d'ouevres with bread, a little bit of veg, meat and cheese "open-face sandwiches".
Also enjoyed the reaffirmation of my desire to garner vast material wealth (inspired by the 8 cars I saw in the parking lot all with the same licence plate number - "3538").
Noticed with some amusement that more than a few people I knew had signed on with the SAF. I suppose all that advertising about the virtues of an army career has finally paid off. One of them was a junior of mine who did microbiology at uni (I always thought he'd end up working for Yakult) who now says he can't tell me what he's doing. Probably developing the next generation of anthrax.
At one point Mark & Zee were in a corner discussing business. Who wud've thunk it?
Eventually, after the celebrations, and watching YM retch into his swimming pool, I decided it was time to exeunt. Nevermind that I had no money, nowhere to stay, and had to stagger to Kranji at 9:00am tomorrow morning so that I could make it to JB for my friend to give me a ride home. I like living on the edge. Forward planning is for losers.
Gabriel met me in front of Borders after I had called him one million times. I was able to make it to Wheelock Place on foot only because some drunken Indonesians were staggering to Shaw Center and I sort of trailed along like a remora, direction-wise, with my fellow convoy of the inebriated. When I hit Borders, Gabriel's reassuring bulk loomed in front of me, and he was kind enough to help me stagger to a nearby mamak store where I recuperated with some cheese prata.
After a cab to his place, I am now in a slightly more lucid state, which is not very pleasant, but the Wolf Blass wine Gabriel has provided me is helping rectify that error in my condition. Tomorrow morning, I have to somehow haul ass to JB where an Dim is waiting to spirit me home in his Proton Waja. For free.
In the meantime, I shall smoke out the window in Gabriel's house, enjoy the good company , soft drinks, and general support of my incapacitated state (at one point Gabriel permitted me to ride piggyback for 50m down River Valley Road when my alcohol-impaired motor skills got too onerous), and I still don't understand why he lets me blog here when most of my entries are spent abusing him for his hypocrisy and moral self-righteousness.
Post ID: 107315142548193824
Saturday, January 03, 2004
Just got back from late night drinks with JN, Gumballs, my cousin, and Des. We were slumming it in a hotel bar, all of us incongrously wearing khakis and polo shirts (one of the weirder instances of spontaneous coincidence - talk about yuppie aspirations). Thankfully none of us wore golf caps.
Gumballs is doing his thesis - which has been overdue for a year. Apparently this extension is like his fourth extension, and his uni is still letting him drag it out. Talk about slack scholastic standards - he's come back to apply for a PR in Australia from offshore, but he can't start until he graduates, and he hasn't graduated until he gets his degree. He was supposed to spend the whole of last year doing his degree - but I guess when you're living overseas, it just.. drags itself out.
I wish I had the balls (and the slack lecturers) who would let me spend a *year* doing nothing but working on one assignment.
Although he was kind enough to buy me a bottle '99 De Bortoli Noble One - a full 750ml size! Was totally touched by the sudden gesture, and the nicety of awareness that I really like dessert wines. It's not a Sauternes, but what the hell, I figure. Either way, this is the first non-family, non-birthday present I've received in... a year. Yeah, since - well. Since. Little victories; often the best are the ones you don't plan for.
Good to get together with my fellow geeks. Spent the whole night raving about Exalted, MTG, various computer games and George R.R Martin books. Just what I need, a social revert to my ethnic type.
Absent thought of the day: Traffic dictates culture. When Gilbert visited last week, he noted that no one seems to honk or care if you ride the shoulder on the highway. The traffic - and the way people drive/park/bribe the police here tells you everything you need to know about Malaysian culture - that going on the straight, prescribed, rule-driven approach gets you nowhere. The only way to get anywhere is to cut corners, bend rules, make illegal U-turns, bribe traffic police.
Off down to Singapore tomorrow morning for reunion party at ym's place - a bunch of the old crowd are gathering from ye parts distant. Pot luck - damn it, what am I going to bring during the bus ride? And I don't think the sheer radiance of my presence is going to make up for appearing empty handed.
On top of that, I'm down to my last 100 dollars for the next two weeks until payday, which I'm going to use up faster than a Jalan Petaling transvestite uses mascara. Funny how that I'm earning more money than ever, I seem to have less to spend at any given time.
Gumballs is doing his thesis - which has been overdue for a year. Apparently this extension is like his fourth extension, and his uni is still letting him drag it out. Talk about slack scholastic standards - he's come back to apply for a PR in Australia from offshore, but he can't start until he graduates, and he hasn't graduated until he gets his degree. He was supposed to spend the whole of last year doing his degree - but I guess when you're living overseas, it just.. drags itself out.
I wish I had the balls (and the slack lecturers) who would let me spend a *year* doing nothing but working on one assignment.
Although he was kind enough to buy me a bottle '99 De Bortoli Noble One - a full 750ml size! Was totally touched by the sudden gesture, and the nicety of awareness that I really like dessert wines. It's not a Sauternes, but what the hell, I figure. Either way, this is the first non-family, non-birthday present I've received in... a year. Yeah, since - well. Since. Little victories; often the best are the ones you don't plan for.
Good to get together with my fellow geeks. Spent the whole night raving about Exalted, MTG, various computer games and George R.R Martin books. Just what I need, a social revert to my ethnic type.
Absent thought of the day: Traffic dictates culture. When Gilbert visited last week, he noted that no one seems to honk or care if you ride the shoulder on the highway. The traffic - and the way people drive/park/bribe the police here tells you everything you need to know about Malaysian culture - that going on the straight, prescribed, rule-driven approach gets you nowhere. The only way to get anywhere is to cut corners, bend rules, make illegal U-turns, bribe traffic police.
Off down to Singapore tomorrow morning for reunion party at ym's place - a bunch of the old crowd are gathering from ye parts distant. Pot luck - damn it, what am I going to bring during the bus ride? And I don't think the sheer radiance of my presence is going to make up for appearing empty handed.
On top of that, I'm down to my last 100 dollars for the next two weeks until payday, which I'm going to use up faster than a Jalan Petaling transvestite uses mascara. Funny how that I'm earning more money than ever, I seem to have less to spend at any given time.
Post ID: 107306475642049717
Friday, January 02, 2004
Today's burst of self-pitying whimsy:
"Jesus walked with lepers. I do not pretend that it makes me blessed, but it is something to consider. Perhaps it means nothing - but let me have my hopes."
Skipped capoeira classes today, because I was too zoned out from work. How the hell do you price an illiquid bond when no one on this planet, not even Bloomberg, has any quotes, and the last price you had was like six months ago when corporate yields hadn't gone through the roof? While I appreciate my boss' confidence in going on leave so that I could tackle it alone, I fear on Monday he will be inundated by my panicked requests for support and supervision. So much for wanting to hire "candidates who have initiative, drive and can work independently"
There is a pleasing irony in knowing that what I am doing is, in many ways, collusion tantamount to illegal misrepresentation. Without going into details, I had to create several million dollars out of nothing. And all in a totally legal fashion, of course. And it may not even be an illusion; by saying it is so, getting the auditors to sign off on it (although the imprimatur of auditors has been seriously debased of late), poof - it becomes reality; a number conjured by the interplay of some legal sophistry, pure guesswork, and "market feel" (aka. The Force lah) - and next thing you know, whoosh, we're reporting increased earnings, the share price rises, I hopefully get a marginally higher bonus, and all's hunky dory and my three nights of panicked work are rewarded by the warm glow of bamboozling the shareholders and analysts.
Only two things separate what I do from the Enrons and the Worldcoms - scale (everyone does it. Just that some get more greedy, and thus get caught) and sophistication (with auditors who don't even know price-yield relationships, how hard can they be to smoke?).
Was talking to an old friend today; am meeting up with them for a reunion in Singapore this weekend. To show Fate's twisted sense of humour, my recent travails have been punctuated by tidings of good news for my friends; better jobs, promotions, opportunities, etc. Although this tide of good fortune while I'm stuck in my dead-end job pisses me off (again, the ugly side of human nature rears itself), it seems to be confined only to the material aspect of life - like an idiot I knew in uni who made a million dollars buying and selling a refurbished piece of industrial land (when I say idiot I mean idiot - he once saw me running 3dMark benchmarks on my PC and commented on the wonderful "graphs")
However, I have also heard of quite a few break-ups this December. Hallmark must have poured some mood depressant in their Christmas card ink this year; at least four people I know broke up with their significant others.
Am in the midst of playing Legacy of Kain: Defiance. Perhaps I shouldn't have downloaded the entire Dark Chronicle storyline from gamefaqs.com; knowing the exact story kind of detracts from the effort from playing it. And while the graphics are impressive (Raziel's transition from spiritual to material is particularly cool), the third person camera seems to be located at the worst possible location and it changes perspective in the middle of leaps! While a person with an analogue controller (well, LoK is a primarily PS2 title) may be able to live with it, us poor mouse-and-keyboard enthusiasts are left in the cold.
Was having a conversation with a friend last night, on the nature of temperance. (sort of) A cute chick had actually called him out for a date; brazenly saying that she wanted to see more of him because she had glimpsed him at camp and thought he was cute. (Women these days are so degenerate. Society is going to perdition. Gone are the days of chastity and moral rectitude. Yes, I'm jealous)
Anyway, they went out for a movie, and she actually invited him over to his house (reading between the lines, I gather he wasn't being invited home to play Scrabble). Now, my friend possesses a pretty hedonistic mindset, but yet is in straitened circumstances as well.
So faced with such a prospect what did he do? He said he was busy.
Now, I find this intriguing, because I don't think he refrained out of physical infirmity, moral inhibition, or some other genuinely pressing circumstance. So I asked him, why?
In his words: "i don't like girls who are bad on the surface. i want those rgs types whom i can make bad. although i've not done it yet, but i want to try."
I'm still mulling over that one.
Someone also pointed out to me on the topic of picking up strange women: "Paradoxically, when this kind of thing means absolutely nothing to you it's easier."
"the problem with above average women in clubs is that they've been hit on too many times and are jaded. you need to be something different
according to this player. he suggests the "negative hit" theory. meaning you hit them with some negativity and get them to wonder "hey this guy is more special he isn't kissing my ass like the rest of them losers""
Me: "but what if the girls who go to clubs WANT to be hit on in the normal way? I mean, isn't that why they're there?"
And, after some thought: "I think the empty, sleazy, brutally honest feeling you get from a hooker is in some ways preferable to conning some girl with your "hard-to-get" pretensions of superiority."
Friend: "That's your problem lah. Dogs can smell fear, girls can smell desperation. Oh well. the type of girls we want need to be initially attracted to us, but if they are going to be attracted to us the way we really are they would have to be fucking dysfunctional to begin with."
Me: "What would be the point otherwise?"
"Jesus walked with lepers. I do not pretend that it makes me blessed, but it is something to consider. Perhaps it means nothing - but let me have my hopes."
Skipped capoeira classes today, because I was too zoned out from work. How the hell do you price an illiquid bond when no one on this planet, not even Bloomberg, has any quotes, and the last price you had was like six months ago when corporate yields hadn't gone through the roof? While I appreciate my boss' confidence in going on leave so that I could tackle it alone, I fear on Monday he will be inundated by my panicked requests for support and supervision. So much for wanting to hire "candidates who have initiative, drive and can work independently"
There is a pleasing irony in knowing that what I am doing is, in many ways, collusion tantamount to illegal misrepresentation. Without going into details, I had to create several million dollars out of nothing. And all in a totally legal fashion, of course. And it may not even be an illusion; by saying it is so, getting the auditors to sign off on it (although the imprimatur of auditors has been seriously debased of late), poof - it becomes reality; a number conjured by the interplay of some legal sophistry, pure guesswork, and "market feel" (aka. The Force lah) - and next thing you know, whoosh, we're reporting increased earnings, the share price rises, I hopefully get a marginally higher bonus, and all's hunky dory and my three nights of panicked work are rewarded by the warm glow of bamboozling the shareholders and analysts.
Only two things separate what I do from the Enrons and the Worldcoms - scale (everyone does it. Just that some get more greedy, and thus get caught) and sophistication (with auditors who don't even know price-yield relationships, how hard can they be to smoke?).
Was talking to an old friend today; am meeting up with them for a reunion in Singapore this weekend. To show Fate's twisted sense of humour, my recent travails have been punctuated by tidings of good news for my friends; better jobs, promotions, opportunities, etc. Although this tide of good fortune while I'm stuck in my dead-end job pisses me off (again, the ugly side of human nature rears itself), it seems to be confined only to the material aspect of life - like an idiot I knew in uni who made a million dollars buying and selling a refurbished piece of industrial land (when I say idiot I mean idiot - he once saw me running 3dMark benchmarks on my PC and commented on the wonderful "graphs")
However, I have also heard of quite a few break-ups this December. Hallmark must have poured some mood depressant in their Christmas card ink this year; at least four people I know broke up with their significant others.
Am in the midst of playing Legacy of Kain: Defiance. Perhaps I shouldn't have downloaded the entire Dark Chronicle storyline from gamefaqs.com; knowing the exact story kind of detracts from the effort from playing it. And while the graphics are impressive (Raziel's transition from spiritual to material is particularly cool), the third person camera seems to be located at the worst possible location and it changes perspective in the middle of leaps! While a person with an analogue controller (well, LoK is a primarily PS2 title) may be able to live with it, us poor mouse-and-keyboard enthusiasts are left in the cold.
Was having a conversation with a friend last night, on the nature of temperance. (sort of) A cute chick had actually called him out for a date; brazenly saying that she wanted to see more of him because she had glimpsed him at camp and thought he was cute. (Women these days are so degenerate. Society is going to perdition. Gone are the days of chastity and moral rectitude. Yes, I'm jealous)
Anyway, they went out for a movie, and she actually invited him over to his house (reading between the lines, I gather he wasn't being invited home to play Scrabble). Now, my friend possesses a pretty hedonistic mindset, but yet is in straitened circumstances as well.
So faced with such a prospect what did he do? He said he was busy.
Now, I find this intriguing, because I don't think he refrained out of physical infirmity, moral inhibition, or some other genuinely pressing circumstance. So I asked him, why?
In his words: "i don't like girls who are bad on the surface. i want those rgs types whom i can make bad. although i've not done it yet, but i want to try."
I'm still mulling over that one.
Someone also pointed out to me on the topic of picking up strange women: "Paradoxically, when this kind of thing means absolutely nothing to you it's easier."
"the problem with above average women in clubs is that they've been hit on too many times and are jaded. you need to be something different
according to this player. he suggests the "negative hit" theory. meaning you hit them with some negativity and get them to wonder "hey this guy is more special he isn't kissing my ass like the rest of them losers""
Me: "but what if the girls who go to clubs WANT to be hit on in the normal way? I mean, isn't that why they're there?"
And, after some thought: "I think the empty, sleazy, brutally honest feeling you get from a hooker is in some ways preferable to conning some girl with your "hard-to-get" pretensions of superiority."
Friend: "That's your problem lah. Dogs can smell fear, girls can smell desperation. Oh well. the type of girls we want need to be initially attracted to us, but if they are going to be attracted to us the way we really are they would have to be fucking dysfunctional to begin with."
Me: "What would be the point otherwise?"
Post ID: 107305258832416706
Quote on Eat Me. Just Eat Me.
Vivian: "Hey, Shawn, you know Gabriel, right?"
Me: "Let me think. You mean Gabriel from NJ?"
Vivian: "No, Gabriel, the weird guy who links to your site."
Me: "Oh yeah, Gabriel Seah. Haha, yeah. What about?"
Vivian: "He was my primary school classmate."
Me: "Oh, so you heard him take the BCG jab. Did you hear him scream?
It was like, stuck pig in an abbatoir. Did you hear that scream? That
was some scream. It was maybe 40 seconds long. All the girls in my class
burst out crying. It was so long, it had three parts. Pre-scream, real
scream, post-scream."
Ahh, the glory days. And to think I'm a medic now.
Vivian: "Hey, Shawn, you know Gabriel, right?"
Me: "Let me think. You mean Gabriel from NJ?"
Vivian: "No, Gabriel, the weird guy who links to your site."
Me: "Oh yeah, Gabriel Seah. Haha, yeah. What about?"
Vivian: "He was my primary school classmate."
Me: "Oh, so you heard him take the BCG jab. Did you hear him scream?
It was like, stuck pig in an abbatoir. Did you hear that scream? That
was some scream. It was maybe 40 seconds long. All the girls in my class
burst out crying. It was so long, it had three parts. Pre-scream, real
scream, post-scream."
Everyone loves Gabriel
Ahh, the glory days. And to think I'm a medic now.
Post ID: 107304790617436282
2nd day of the year, and I think I have carpal tunnel syndrome. Unfortunately my company's sterling health plan doesn't cover it (however, they did let me take sick leave when I went for laser-assisted in situ keratomileusis so they're not *that* bad). My forearm feels like cold needles are running down the inside of my blood vessels whenever I move my mouse, and half a bottle of medicated linoleum doesn't seem to make squat difference.
To take my mind off the discomfort, I shall answer some more of Gabriel's posts
(Someone was asking: "Why do all your posts seem to be snipes at Gabriel or debates with him? A third person watching would think he's having a dissociative personality disorder argument with himself." I replied: "My life is too surreally banal to make good writing, and Gabriel's the only person I know of who would let a co-blogger incessantly abuse him. It keeps him honest, anyway.")
Firstly, *you're* the one over-generalizing shamelessly with regards to lotteries and life. When I say a national lottery for NS won't work because of the ugliness of human nature, I mean it in the context of a Singaporean society with institutional inertia of an existing, and arguably functional (albeit not at Pareto efficiency) conscription. And studies have shown that people would accept a lower income if it was at an average level, as opposed to an higher income that was below average, everything else ceteris paribus.
That doesn't mean lotteries *can't* work in other societies with other factors at play, simply that this above factor, alongside all others, would be the primary reason why it's not politically viable in Singapore today.
Secondly, the Scouring of the Shire is a seminal part of Tolkien's book. I think it makes a great allegorical point (Tolkien's distaste for allegory granted) that not all the battles against evil involve grandiose epics and saga-level conflicts. Sometimes it can be evil in a small, mean way, in your backyard, corrupting the people around you. Of course, Lord of the Rings as a movie is meant to focus more on the bigger picture, so I can see why for theatrical release such a part would slow down the pacing and add an unncessary denouement in the conclusion - but that doesn't detract from the chapter's role and message in the original text.
The US dollar has been falling vis-a-vis the European/Japanese/Australian currencies, but the ASEAN pairs are being kept low by a combination of aggressive Treasury purchasing, hard currency buffering and mondo loose monetary policy. ASEAN is a primarily mercantilist mentality; they don't want to see their currencies over-appreciate esp with China's flood of cheapo exports around the corner. These factors make us a ready market for the US' deficit spending for a while to come.
To take my mind off the discomfort, I shall answer some more of Gabriel's posts
(Someone was asking: "Why do all your posts seem to be snipes at Gabriel or debates with him? A third person watching would think he's having a dissociative personality disorder argument with himself." I replied: "My life is too surreally banal to make good writing, and Gabriel's the only person I know of who would let a co-blogger incessantly abuse him. It keeps him honest, anyway.")
Firstly, *you're* the one over-generalizing shamelessly with regards to lotteries and life. When I say a national lottery for NS won't work because of the ugliness of human nature, I mean it in the context of a Singaporean society with institutional inertia of an existing, and arguably functional (albeit not at Pareto efficiency) conscription. And studies have shown that people would accept a lower income if it was at an average level, as opposed to an higher income that was below average, everything else ceteris paribus.
That doesn't mean lotteries *can't* work in other societies with other factors at play, simply that this above factor, alongside all others, would be the primary reason why it's not politically viable in Singapore today.
Secondly, the Scouring of the Shire is a seminal part of Tolkien's book. I think it makes a great allegorical point (Tolkien's distaste for allegory granted) that not all the battles against evil involve grandiose epics and saga-level conflicts. Sometimes it can be evil in a small, mean way, in your backyard, corrupting the people around you. Of course, Lord of the Rings as a movie is meant to focus more on the bigger picture, so I can see why for theatrical release such a part would slow down the pacing and add an unncessary denouement in the conclusion - but that doesn't detract from the chapter's role and message in the original text.
The US dollar has been falling vis-a-vis the European/Japanese/Australian currencies, but the ASEAN pairs are being kept low by a combination of aggressive Treasury purchasing, hard currency buffering and mondo loose monetary policy. ASEAN is a primarily mercantilist mentality; they don't want to see their currencies over-appreciate esp with China's flood of cheapo exports around the corner. These factors make us a ready market for the US' deficit spending for a while to come.
Post ID: 107302182417093616
I have nothing against racist jokes; hell, once I was driving an Indian colleague & a Malay colleague to lunch. The Malay guy was sitting in the backseat. He suddenly said: "Now this is rare - a Chinese driving a Malay around." It is a sign of true multi-cultural integration when all of us can tell racist jokes in front of each other.
However, when I got your email, I confess I totally did not get any humour value out of it.
Me:
??????
i don't really get it but i'll laugh because it has malays
hahahaha
(I'm a Malaysian. Racism is part of my national heritage. Most people I know here, when it comes down to it, like individuals and despise races. Too bad if you can't see the distinction.)
You:
wth
Haha
You see there's this joint in Spore called "Canadian 2 for 1 Pizza". I call it "Malay 2 for 1 Pizza" because everyone who works there is Malay.
So I gather the humour comes because something called a "Canadian" pizza joint is run entirely by Malays. While I'm not entirely rolling on the floor with levity here, I can see why some individuals with a low common denominator of humour might find it laugh-worthy.
The question is, if the picture had been of entirely Chinese or Indian or even Iraqi people, would you have sent out an email to all and sundry calling it "Chinese 2 for 1 Pizza" or "Iraqi 2 for 1 Pizza"?
However, when I got your email, I confess I totally did not get any humour value out of it.
Me:
??????
i don't really get it but i'll laugh because it has malays
hahahaha
(I'm a Malaysian. Racism is part of my national heritage. Most people I know here, when it comes down to it, like individuals and despise races. Too bad if you can't see the distinction.)
You:
wth
Haha
You see there's this joint in Spore called "Canadian 2 for 1 Pizza". I call it "Malay 2 for 1 Pizza" because everyone who works there is Malay.
So I gather the humour comes because something called a "Canadian" pizza joint is run entirely by Malays. While I'm not entirely rolling on the floor with levity here, I can see why some individuals with a low common denominator of humour might find it laugh-worthy.
The question is, if the picture had been of entirely Chinese or Indian or even Iraqi people, would you have sent out an email to all and sundry calling it "Chinese 2 for 1 Pizza" or "Iraqi 2 for 1 Pizza"?
Post ID: 107302020321933465
To clarify my position on Canadian 2 for 1 Pizza:
Fie, it seems to be the case that whenever I talk about that company, I am accused of racism.
Perhaps it is because we, in Singapore, have been over-sensitised to the point that any mention of race is automatically suspect, and any mention of it beyond a socially/governmentally approved context - meaning in an unambiguously positive way - gets one labelled as racist. This is especially the case with minorities which are traditionally discriminated against by the majority.
Please note that in the picture attached, *all* of the staff are Malay. This I have not altered. In all transactions I've had with this company, further, all but two of the people I've interacted with - the people answering the phone, delivering the goods and even manning the outlets - are Malay, and even then one of the two was what I took to be the owner of a particular branch, since he came in his private car to deliver the pizza.
Thus, "Malay" is a purely descriptive term, and any negative connotations are purely in the mind of the offended. I'm sure if there was a joint I termed "Long Haired Blondes 2 for 1 Pizza", or advertised a place as having food cooked by my "Italian chef, flown in from Italy", no one would be offended. Perhaps the outbursts this matter always triggers is but a manifestation of Freudian Projection (Ed: "A defense mechanism in which the individual attributes to other people impulses and traits that he himself has but cannot accept. It is especially likely to occur when the person lacks insight into his own impulses and traits.") on the part of the naysayers.
In conclusion, I leave you with these words of wisdom from King Edward the Third (1312-1377), who adopted them as the Motto of the order of the Garter: Honi Soit Qui Mal Pense (Evil to him who evil thinks).
Fie, it seems to be the case that whenever I talk about that company, I am accused of racism.
Perhaps it is because we, in Singapore, have been over-sensitised to the point that any mention of race is automatically suspect, and any mention of it beyond a socially/governmentally approved context - meaning in an unambiguously positive way - gets one labelled as racist. This is especially the case with minorities which are traditionally discriminated against by the majority.
Please note that in the picture attached, *all* of the staff are Malay. This I have not altered. In all transactions I've had with this company, further, all but two of the people I've interacted with - the people answering the phone, delivering the goods and even manning the outlets - are Malay, and even then one of the two was what I took to be the owner of a particular branch, since he came in his private car to deliver the pizza.
Thus, "Malay" is a purely descriptive term, and any negative connotations are purely in the mind of the offended. I'm sure if there was a joint I termed "Long Haired Blondes 2 for 1 Pizza", or advertised a place as having food cooked by my "Italian chef, flown in from Italy", no one would be offended. Perhaps the outbursts this matter always triggers is but a manifestation of Freudian Projection (Ed: "A defense mechanism in which the individual attributes to other people impulses and traits that he himself has but cannot accept. It is especially likely to occur when the person lacks insight into his own impulses and traits.") on the part of the naysayers.
In conclusion, I leave you with these words of wisdom from King Edward the Third (1312-1377), who adopted them as the Motto of the order of the Garter: Honi Soit Qui Mal Pense (Evil to him who evil thinks).
Post ID: 107301131653998514
Thursday, January 01, 2004
It's very, very easy not to be offended by a book. You just have to shut it. - Salman Rushdie
The Charity of King Wenceslas - If you think about it, really, both the poor man and the "Good" King's behaviors are very suspicious. I totally agree with the writer.
Minas Morgul - Ignore the title. It's an interesting page with little gems on a wide variety of topics. Most rare these days.
Brothers 'United' after unusual pact - A Manchester United soccer fan donated cells so his brother could have a life-saving transplant -- on condition his sibling switched his support from arch rivals Manchester City.
Ben told me the last time that to get film-quality 4R prints with digital images, you need them about 1MB in size. Bah. The 1024 x 768 on fine (medium) quality images that my mother took in Vietnam came out indistinguishable from those printed from analog film.
A certain aspect of American politics puzzles me - namely the thing about the South shifting its allegiance from the Democrats to the Republicans about a half century ago. In fact, I'm led to believe that the two parties swapped characters and agenda around that time.
Some people accuse me of being racist when I call it "Malay 2 for 1 Pizza". I beg to differ, for the term is purely descriptive. Look closely and you will see that -all- of the people in this picture are Malay.
For those of you celebrating your year-end bonuses:
The mystery of the 13th month bonus
When the British were in Singapore, they were being paid weekly & they argued that Singaporeans were actually being cheated into believing that the 13th month pay is a bonus.
Singaporeans are being paid monthly which is equivalent to 4 weeks pay coz there are 4 weeks in a month.
As the British were paid weekly, it worked out to the same. You see, there are 7 days in a week. 4 weeks in a month. 12 months in a year. Then 12 months should work out to 48 weeks only. But 1 year worked out to 52 weeks!!! Hence the 13th month is your own pay (not bonus??!!).
So, the British argued that there is in fact no bonus at all??? It is a very simple calculation that stunned many!!!! BONUS??? What bonus??? . #$%*@!!!
The Charity of King Wenceslas - If you think about it, really, both the poor man and the "Good" King's behaviors are very suspicious. I totally agree with the writer.
Minas Morgul - Ignore the title. It's an interesting page with little gems on a wide variety of topics. Most rare these days.
Brothers 'United' after unusual pact - A Manchester United soccer fan donated cells so his brother could have a life-saving transplant -- on condition his sibling switched his support from arch rivals Manchester City.
Ben told me the last time that to get film-quality 4R prints with digital images, you need them about 1MB in size. Bah. The 1024 x 768 on fine (medium) quality images that my mother took in Vietnam came out indistinguishable from those printed from analog film.
A certain aspect of American politics puzzles me - namely the thing about the South shifting its allegiance from the Democrats to the Republicans about a half century ago. In fact, I'm led to believe that the two parties swapped characters and agenda around that time.
Some people accuse me of being racist when I call it "Malay 2 for 1 Pizza". I beg to differ, for the term is purely descriptive. Look closely and you will see that -all- of the people in this picture are Malay.
For those of you celebrating your year-end bonuses:
The mystery of the 13th month bonus
When the British were in Singapore, they were being paid weekly & they argued that Singaporeans were actually being cheated into believing that the 13th month pay is a bonus.
Singaporeans are being paid monthly which is equivalent to 4 weeks pay coz there are 4 weeks in a month.
As the British were paid weekly, it worked out to the same. You see, there are 7 days in a week. 4 weeks in a month. 12 months in a year. Then 12 months should work out to 48 weeks only. But 1 year worked out to 52 weeks!!! Hence the 13th month is your own pay (not bonus??!!).
So, the British argued that there is in fact no bonus at all??? It is a very simple calculation that stunned many!!!! BONUS??? What bonus??? . #$%*@!!!
Post ID: 107294920902656676
Does anyone need more proof that the world is going straight to Hell?
Plastic Faith
ESHER, England -- The world's first inflatable church opened its Gothic arches to worshipers to reveal a blow-up organ, a polyvinyl pulpit, an air-filled altar and fake stained glass windows.
Out With a Bang
STOCKHOLM -- A Swedish church newspaper reported a growing number of explosions during cremations caused by overheated silicone breast implants in female corpses.
Bad Day
DAR ES SALAAM, Tanzania -- A man who thought his boss's bicycle had been stolen while in his care killed himself in despair by diving into a cesspit. A friend returned the bike a little later.
Family Hour
BEIJING -- China banned commercials for feminine hygiene products and hemorrhoid ointments during mealtimes, declaring them unappetizing.
Ancient Art
LONDON -- A leading British museum has paid $387,000 for a 16th-century Italian Renaissance dinner plate showing a male head made entirely of phalluses.
Athletic Endeavor?
TORONTO -- A quick-fisted man bested 320 competitors to win $3,825 and the World Rock, Paper, Scissors Championship at a local nightclub.
Dog Breath?
LONDON -- A survey by a toothpaste manufacturer indicated more than half of all Britons have breath that smells worse than their pet's.
Plastic Faith
ESHER, England -- The world's first inflatable church opened its Gothic arches to worshipers to reveal a blow-up organ, a polyvinyl pulpit, an air-filled altar and fake stained glass windows.
Out With a Bang
STOCKHOLM -- A Swedish church newspaper reported a growing number of explosions during cremations caused by overheated silicone breast implants in female corpses.
Bad Day
DAR ES SALAAM, Tanzania -- A man who thought his boss's bicycle had been stolen while in his care killed himself in despair by diving into a cesspit. A friend returned the bike a little later.
Family Hour
BEIJING -- China banned commercials for feminine hygiene products and hemorrhoid ointments during mealtimes, declaring them unappetizing.
Ancient Art
LONDON -- A leading British museum has paid $387,000 for a 16th-century Italian Renaissance dinner plate showing a male head made entirely of phalluses.
Athletic Endeavor?
TORONTO -- A quick-fisted man bested 320 competitors to win $3,825 and the World Rock, Paper, Scissors Championship at a local nightclub.
Dog Breath?
LONDON -- A survey by a toothpaste manufacturer indicated more than half of all Britons have breath that smells worse than their pet's.
Post ID: 107294010646747091
Word of the day (year, I hope): "agathism"
Well, it's a new year, and as cliched as the concept of "new year = renewal, turn of the cycle, rotation of the Wheel, etc" is, I find myself, like the rest of the human population, seduced by an arbitrarily chosen point in the Earth's rotation around the Sun. Still, I suppose it's human psychology to fix points in time by which we can milestone our personal, temporal progress through this mortal coil.
Okay, grandiosely pontificating preamble over (for now).
In keeping with the Adrian Mole tradition, here are my New Year's Resolutions for 2004:
a) Lift myself up from credit card penury and repaying all outstanding debts.
b) Break self out of current stoner come-home-play-computer-games-watch-DVDs-and-download-pornography drift and concentrate on the following remaining PULGs (Post-University Lifestyle Goals): get a better job, get my CFA, move out of house.
c) Reduce alcohol consumption to twice a month. (Wine doesn't count) (Neither does beer) (Or perry) (Ditto vodka) (And house pours) (Also cocktails)
d) Reduce cigarette consumpt... ah fuck it, who am I kidding.
e) Buy only computer games I plan to complete.
f) Ditto for VCDs, DVDs, books.
g) Moratorium on new online friendships, trysts, liaisons, etc. (Occasional interaction via mailing lists, forums, tagboards, newsgroups permissible but to be more stringently QC-ed)
h) Convert existing online acquaintances into meatspace acquaintances (only two to go)
i) Resume blogging as a means of psychological catharsis, verbal "gorilla-thumping-on-chest" egotism, tediously self-pitying bitching about daily events, and vocabulary-honing.
j) Stick with capoeira classes.
k) Make perfunctory gestures towards charity and altruism and goodwill towards fellow man (ie. putting more change in beggars' bowls, not abusing idiot students with cans and stickers, joining in squatters' protests, refraining from lengthy diatribes about the need for voluntary human extinction)
l) Research cryonics potential more thoroughly as part of renewed zest for life (albeit life in some other epoch where I can hopefully own an orbital space station with rail guns, a berthed Dreadnought-class starship, and a harem of vat-grown nano-constructed concubines)
m) Expect less from friends, family and people around me as part of disappointment-avoidance strategem.
n) Make efforts to go to some of the weird cultural events they occasionally advertise on the Hitz.fm Community Infoline.
I'm currently languishing at work, and am somewhat frustrated due to the failure on the part of another party to deliver the information I need to complete a report which absolutely *must* be completed by tomorrow morning. Although I have a legitimate excuse for tarrying, it still rankles that my progress is being held back by the incompetence of others. But thinking back on this sensation, I find myself surprised to discover something that I've developed resembling work ethic - a concept previously inimical to me other than as a necessary evil required to earn money to keep myself in a reasonably comfortable lifestyle.
As a result, I'm waiting at the office, by myself, staring out the window, and suddenly, *bing*, a flash of volition and here I am, typing furiously into the blog, despite my vow a year ago to stay off blogging. Gabriel has half-heartedly prodded me into making entries now and again, but here are a few better reasons why I've started again.
a) Friendster.com has lost what little appeal it initially had
b) No good games out on the horizon (except, arguably, Thief 3)
c) No money to upgrade computer to effectively play any new good games that might emerge anyway, so why not resort to an alternative low-tech hobby
d) Initially stopped blogging because of embarrassment at lack of anything to say beyond archetypical, cliched personal whining, and because I felt I should be better occupying my rare crumbs of leisure time by either looking for another job or playing more computer games or downloading more Ai Ijima clips, but recent personal events have stripped me of any vestige of motivation or dignity I might have had left.
e) Self-righteous need to critique Gabriel's moralizing for the hollow sham that it is.
f) I like lists a lot. Blogging lets me create lists ad infinitum. BWAHAHAHAHAHA.
As a matter of fact, Gabriel is presently sore wroth at me for telling him that, in Order of the Phoenix, Severus Snape is Harry Potter's real father, that Dudley has magical powers, and that McGonagall dies. He's in the midst of reading it at the moment.
(it's the little pleasures that keep one sane)
Gabriel and I have also had a recent, very long discussion on the institution of National Service, and various alternatives. He went on a long and lengthy rant about how he, as a pacifist, vociferously opposed NS on principle, and that there should be alternatives for conscientous objectors.
I pointed out that the Jehovah's Witnesses are consicentous objectors for whom an "alternative" is provided. Granted, DB for years may be excessive, but what the hell, if you want to provide an easy alternative, everyone's going to suddenly discover their inner hippie and argue for peace and love. At least under the current system, you have to put in some effort (and luck) to get that lobo job you want.
Then I told him that I felt his current objections to NS were driven more by his own self-interest and desire to avoid the discomfiture it causes him, as opposed to any genuinely heartfelt moral principle.
He denied it vehemently of course. And cited all his other various noble causes: feminism, freedom of speech, secular humanism.
So I asked him: "If right now, they gave you a 12-3pm job, 4 days a week, but you had to go to secondary schools and give lectures on how great NS is, would you?"
Of course, he fudged. And accused me of being so morally degenerate that I assume everyone has the same base motivations as I do.
I replied: "At least I have no illusions about what I am, and what I do - well, sometimes anyway"
We then considered a few alternatives to NS; such as having a lottery, "reform vs abolition", hiring mercenaries.
"Reform vs abolition" revolves around the principle that national conscription is a necessary evil, but that the current organizational structure, implementation and use of resources is inefficient, combat-ineffective (debatable), and causes unnecessary suffering. IMHO this is broadly true; but national conscription as it currently stands is the most cost-effective way of achieving the twin military and political goals of government hegemony. No doubt there are other methods, but I really can't think of any that so effectively serve to domesticate the male population AND provide a pool of cheap bodies for the use of military defenses.
A lot of people will say that army doesn't really domesticate males; it makes them more angry and pissed off at the government, but it seems to me that what it does is that it makes them complain more in private, and figure out how to work the system; but ultimately bend their heads and just slog it out within the rules instead of upsetting the apple cart. Gabriel's recent long diatribes and emails being a case in point. It ironically makes him more complaining, more whiny, and more verbally disaffected - but disempowers him from taking any radical action towards upsetting a reinforced power/political structure - (as can be seen from the occasional court-martial-fear-driven-self-censorship in this blog).
Perhaps a more effective use of resources would be to change the incentive structure of National service; not just in terms of allowances, but in terms of servitude alternatives. For instance, a longer stint in the civil service vs 2.5 years of military service? (this would have the pleasant side-effect of devaluing PSC scholars). Or other useful forms of national-related employment? If you structure the incentives and trade-offs correctly, you can still induce/coerce enough people to fill the defensive needs of the nation, while denying Mindef an endless supply of warm bodies to perform hole-filling tasks might make it rethink the way it does things (the surfeit of zombies every year, I think, has subtly impaired its organizational thinking in some ways). This is just a hypothethical, of course, and it would require a lot of thought and fine-tuning before it becomes a workable idee fixe.
Having a lottery seems great on the surface, but the sad truth of human nature is that we'd rather see everyone suffer, even if the aggregate suffering goes up, compared to a comparative few suffering. In other words, if the government could get past the institutional inertia and actually set up a lottery system, the ones who draw the short straw are going to bitch so much that it may potentially update a (currently relatively) stable social situation. What politician would want to risk it?
(NB: Malaysia is a pretty good example of this in action - thankfully the corruption here is so endemic that a lot of people who got in have managed to weasel their way out through judicious application of resources and contacts. As a matter of fact, the M'sian government has called on Chinese and Indian volunteers to fill in the blanks caused by all these "deferments" and "disruptions" to create the ideal "racial composition". Ironic.)
Mercenaries: the only argument I like in favour of this is that none of the parties likely to come into military confrontation with Singapore can pay more so that mitigates the treachery factor to some extent.
Tangential shift to a few thoughts occupying my head.
Watched Return of the King last weekend. While watching it, I had to keep reminding myself to appreciate it as a movie on its own merits, and not address it in terms of the book. That said, however, some of the scenes were so spot on with the way I've always pictured them from Tolkien's text that it was a joy to watch. These included the death of the Witch-King, the battle at Pelennor Fields, the final confrontation at Orodruin, Smeagol's murder of Deagol, Shelob's depiction, and the wondrous cityscapes of both Minas Morgul and Minas Tirith.
I'm sure I'm not the only one who, when watching the charge of the Mumakil, thought: "Fuck! AT-AT Walkers!" (Empire Strikes Back) I kept wondering when the snowspeeders and winch cables would show up:)
I do wish that they had kept some of the more seminal scenes from the book; for instance, bringing in some of the Gondor liege lords like Imrahil and using the actual text from the Last Debate chapter, the much-discussed scouring of Saruman from the final movie, and making Denethor a little more dignified and a little less like a tyrannical glutton. Maybe the extended version DVD will help allay these complaints.
Having played the Return of the King hack'n'slash though, I have to say that it and Two Towers are the best computer-game-movie tie-ins - in terms of visual look, storyline, concept, and of course, all those cool interviews and extras.
Elijah Wood (on playing the PS2 games): "At one point, I swear, I concentrated so hard the (PS2) controller was floating in the air. Serious."
Sometimes I can relate to people who want to kill all Westerners. They come to our countries, earn obscene US-denominated salaries (often tax-included), are given luxury apartments, have our women fling themselves at them, and are reportedly more well-endowed (having lost women to the Caucasian race more than once, penis envy is something I have no qualms in admitting:). I remember once when, sitting in a bus, I was listening to a bunch of American exchange students go on and on about how hard it was to find Mexican food in the town center. Contemplated going all al-Qaeda on their heathen asses, but then I reached my stop.
But it's hard to hate them for long, given that virtually all of the technological and cultural influences that make my life enjoyable originates from them. I'm told that the Philippines feels pretty much the same kind of hate-love ambivalence towards the Yanqui.
But speaking to Gabriel's lambasting of US foreign policy, the sad truth of the matter is that despite being driven more by self-interest and personal vendetta, the whole Iraqi debacle hasn't turned out to be a total nightmare - yet. For one thing, despite everything, no one can deny life in Iraq is currently better without Saddam at the top (until everything degenerates into sectarian chaos, the odds of which are slim but not impossible at present). Ignoring the motivation behind this, and the sheer administrative stupidity that's going on in the aftermath occupation, one has to be pragmatic about the results. I would definitely be irritated by those who cast the US' recent successes as part of the vanguard of righteousness bringing harmony and peace and goodwill, but the fact of the matter is that the US has done some good on the ground in Iraq and Afghanistan, however cynical the real political motives, and however economically damaging it could be to all of us in the long run.
The US' deficit-fuelled economy may be good for now as a pump-primer for global growth contagion, but when it inevitably collapses? Our Asian central banks can't keep buying Treasuries forever.
Ultimately, what irks me most about the US is not so much about whether or not their actions and largesse have had good for the rest of the world (by and large, it has, despite some sore spots - its unflagging support of Israel being one example), but by their current fashion of dressing it up behind an agenda of democratisation, universal rights, and doctrinal rectitude. Why can't they just happily stick to exporting the best parts of their complicated Weltanschuung; unfettered technological innovation, sophisticated financial markets, capitalistic shenanigans, glittery hedonism, Oreos, massive flows of FDI and overwhelming military intervention in the interests of securing global oil supplies? While reining in the moral banners, the pretensions to humanitarianism, the right-wing evangelism, and reality TV?
Hm. Back to work.
Well, it's a new year, and as cliched as the concept of "new year = renewal, turn of the cycle, rotation of the Wheel, etc" is, I find myself, like the rest of the human population, seduced by an arbitrarily chosen point in the Earth's rotation around the Sun. Still, I suppose it's human psychology to fix points in time by which we can milestone our personal, temporal progress through this mortal coil.
Okay, grandiosely pontificating preamble over (for now).
In keeping with the Adrian Mole tradition, here are my New Year's Resolutions for 2004:
a) Lift myself up from credit card penury and repaying all outstanding debts.
b) Break self out of current stoner come-home-play-computer-games-watch-DVDs-and-download-pornography drift and concentrate on the following remaining PULGs (Post-University Lifestyle Goals): get a better job, get my CFA, move out of house.
c) Reduce alcohol consumption to twice a month. (Wine doesn't count) (Neither does beer) (Or perry) (Ditto vodka) (And house pours) (Also cocktails)
d) Reduce cigarette consumpt... ah fuck it, who am I kidding.
e) Buy only computer games I plan to complete.
f) Ditto for VCDs, DVDs, books.
g) Moratorium on new online friendships, trysts, liaisons, etc. (Occasional interaction via mailing lists, forums, tagboards, newsgroups permissible but to be more stringently QC-ed)
h) Convert existing online acquaintances into meatspace acquaintances (only two to go)
i) Resume blogging as a means of psychological catharsis, verbal "gorilla-thumping-on-chest" egotism, tediously self-pitying bitching about daily events, and vocabulary-honing.
j) Stick with capoeira classes.
k) Make perfunctory gestures towards charity and altruism and goodwill towards fellow man (ie. putting more change in beggars' bowls, not abusing idiot students with cans and stickers, joining in squatters' protests, refraining from lengthy diatribes about the need for voluntary human extinction)
l) Research cryonics potential more thoroughly as part of renewed zest for life (albeit life in some other epoch where I can hopefully own an orbital space station with rail guns, a berthed Dreadnought-class starship, and a harem of vat-grown nano-constructed concubines)
m) Expect less from friends, family and people around me as part of disappointment-avoidance strategem.
n) Make efforts to go to some of the weird cultural events they occasionally advertise on the Hitz.fm Community Infoline.
I'm currently languishing at work, and am somewhat frustrated due to the failure on the part of another party to deliver the information I need to complete a report which absolutely *must* be completed by tomorrow morning. Although I have a legitimate excuse for tarrying, it still rankles that my progress is being held back by the incompetence of others. But thinking back on this sensation, I find myself surprised to discover something that I've developed resembling work ethic - a concept previously inimical to me other than as a necessary evil required to earn money to keep myself in a reasonably comfortable lifestyle.
As a result, I'm waiting at the office, by myself, staring out the window, and suddenly, *bing*, a flash of volition and here I am, typing furiously into the blog, despite my vow a year ago to stay off blogging. Gabriel has half-heartedly prodded me into making entries now and again, but here are a few better reasons why I've started again.
a) Friendster.com has lost what little appeal it initially had
b) No good games out on the horizon (except, arguably, Thief 3)
c) No money to upgrade computer to effectively play any new good games that might emerge anyway, so why not resort to an alternative low-tech hobby
d) Initially stopped blogging because of embarrassment at lack of anything to say beyond archetypical, cliched personal whining, and because I felt I should be better occupying my rare crumbs of leisure time by either looking for another job or playing more computer games or downloading more Ai Ijima clips, but recent personal events have stripped me of any vestige of motivation or dignity I might have had left.
e) Self-righteous need to critique Gabriel's moralizing for the hollow sham that it is.
f) I like lists a lot. Blogging lets me create lists ad infinitum. BWAHAHAHAHAHA.
As a matter of fact, Gabriel is presently sore wroth at me for telling him that, in Order of the Phoenix, Severus Snape is Harry Potter's real father, that Dudley has magical powers, and that McGonagall dies. He's in the midst of reading it at the moment.
(it's the little pleasures that keep one sane)
Gabriel and I have also had a recent, very long discussion on the institution of National Service, and various alternatives. He went on a long and lengthy rant about how he, as a pacifist, vociferously opposed NS on principle, and that there should be alternatives for conscientous objectors.
I pointed out that the Jehovah's Witnesses are consicentous objectors for whom an "alternative" is provided. Granted, DB for years may be excessive, but what the hell, if you want to provide an easy alternative, everyone's going to suddenly discover their inner hippie and argue for peace and love. At least under the current system, you have to put in some effort (and luck) to get that lobo job you want.
Then I told him that I felt his current objections to NS were driven more by his own self-interest and desire to avoid the discomfiture it causes him, as opposed to any genuinely heartfelt moral principle.
He denied it vehemently of course. And cited all his other various noble causes: feminism, freedom of speech, secular humanism.
So I asked him: "If right now, they gave you a 12-3pm job, 4 days a week, but you had to go to secondary schools and give lectures on how great NS is, would you?"
Of course, he fudged. And accused me of being so morally degenerate that I assume everyone has the same base motivations as I do.
I replied: "At least I have no illusions about what I am, and what I do - well, sometimes anyway"
We then considered a few alternatives to NS; such as having a lottery, "reform vs abolition", hiring mercenaries.
"Reform vs abolition" revolves around the principle that national conscription is a necessary evil, but that the current organizational structure, implementation and use of resources is inefficient, combat-ineffective (debatable), and causes unnecessary suffering. IMHO this is broadly true; but national conscription as it currently stands is the most cost-effective way of achieving the twin military and political goals of government hegemony. No doubt there are other methods, but I really can't think of any that so effectively serve to domesticate the male population AND provide a pool of cheap bodies for the use of military defenses.
A lot of people will say that army doesn't really domesticate males; it makes them more angry and pissed off at the government, but it seems to me that what it does is that it makes them complain more in private, and figure out how to work the system; but ultimately bend their heads and just slog it out within the rules instead of upsetting the apple cart. Gabriel's recent long diatribes and emails being a case in point. It ironically makes him more complaining, more whiny, and more verbally disaffected - but disempowers him from taking any radical action towards upsetting a reinforced power/political structure - (as can be seen from the occasional court-martial-fear-driven-self-censorship in this blog).
Perhaps a more effective use of resources would be to change the incentive structure of National service; not just in terms of allowances, but in terms of servitude alternatives. For instance, a longer stint in the civil service vs 2.5 years of military service? (this would have the pleasant side-effect of devaluing PSC scholars). Or other useful forms of national-related employment? If you structure the incentives and trade-offs correctly, you can still induce/coerce enough people to fill the defensive needs of the nation, while denying Mindef an endless supply of warm bodies to perform hole-filling tasks might make it rethink the way it does things (the surfeit of zombies every year, I think, has subtly impaired its organizational thinking in some ways). This is just a hypothethical, of course, and it would require a lot of thought and fine-tuning before it becomes a workable idee fixe.
Having a lottery seems great on the surface, but the sad truth of human nature is that we'd rather see everyone suffer, even if the aggregate suffering goes up, compared to a comparative few suffering. In other words, if the government could get past the institutional inertia and actually set up a lottery system, the ones who draw the short straw are going to bitch so much that it may potentially update a (currently relatively) stable social situation. What politician would want to risk it?
(NB: Malaysia is a pretty good example of this in action - thankfully the corruption here is so endemic that a lot of people who got in have managed to weasel their way out through judicious application of resources and contacts. As a matter of fact, the M'sian government has called on Chinese and Indian volunteers to fill in the blanks caused by all these "deferments" and "disruptions" to create the ideal "racial composition". Ironic.)
Mercenaries: the only argument I like in favour of this is that none of the parties likely to come into military confrontation with Singapore can pay more so that mitigates the treachery factor to some extent.
Tangential shift to a few thoughts occupying my head.
Watched Return of the King last weekend. While watching it, I had to keep reminding myself to appreciate it as a movie on its own merits, and not address it in terms of the book. That said, however, some of the scenes were so spot on with the way I've always pictured them from Tolkien's text that it was a joy to watch. These included the death of the Witch-King, the battle at Pelennor Fields, the final confrontation at Orodruin, Smeagol's murder of Deagol, Shelob's depiction, and the wondrous cityscapes of both Minas Morgul and Minas Tirith.
I'm sure I'm not the only one who, when watching the charge of the Mumakil, thought: "Fuck! AT-AT Walkers!" (Empire Strikes Back) I kept wondering when the snowspeeders and winch cables would show up:)
I do wish that they had kept some of the more seminal scenes from the book; for instance, bringing in some of the Gondor liege lords like Imrahil and using the actual text from the Last Debate chapter, the much-discussed scouring of Saruman from the final movie, and making Denethor a little more dignified and a little less like a tyrannical glutton. Maybe the extended version DVD will help allay these complaints.
Having played the Return of the King hack'n'slash though, I have to say that it and Two Towers are the best computer-game-movie tie-ins - in terms of visual look, storyline, concept, and of course, all those cool interviews and extras.
Elijah Wood (on playing the PS2 games): "At one point, I swear, I concentrated so hard the (PS2) controller was floating in the air. Serious."
Sometimes I can relate to people who want to kill all Westerners. They come to our countries, earn obscene US-denominated salaries (often tax-included), are given luxury apartments, have our women fling themselves at them, and are reportedly more well-endowed (having lost women to the Caucasian race more than once, penis envy is something I have no qualms in admitting:). I remember once when, sitting in a bus, I was listening to a bunch of American exchange students go on and on about how hard it was to find Mexican food in the town center. Contemplated going all al-Qaeda on their heathen asses, but then I reached my stop.
But it's hard to hate them for long, given that virtually all of the technological and cultural influences that make my life enjoyable originates from them. I'm told that the Philippines feels pretty much the same kind of hate-love ambivalence towards the Yanqui.
But speaking to Gabriel's lambasting of US foreign policy, the sad truth of the matter is that despite being driven more by self-interest and personal vendetta, the whole Iraqi debacle hasn't turned out to be a total nightmare - yet. For one thing, despite everything, no one can deny life in Iraq is currently better without Saddam at the top (until everything degenerates into sectarian chaos, the odds of which are slim but not impossible at present). Ignoring the motivation behind this, and the sheer administrative stupidity that's going on in the aftermath occupation, one has to be pragmatic about the results. I would definitely be irritated by those who cast the US' recent successes as part of the vanguard of righteousness bringing harmony and peace and goodwill, but the fact of the matter is that the US has done some good on the ground in Iraq and Afghanistan, however cynical the real political motives, and however economically damaging it could be to all of us in the long run.
The US' deficit-fuelled economy may be good for now as a pump-primer for global growth contagion, but when it inevitably collapses? Our Asian central banks can't keep buying Treasuries forever.
Ultimately, what irks me most about the US is not so much about whether or not their actions and largesse have had good for the rest of the world (by and large, it has, despite some sore spots - its unflagging support of Israel being one example), but by their current fashion of dressing it up behind an agenda of democratisation, universal rights, and doctrinal rectitude. Why can't they just happily stick to exporting the best parts of their complicated Weltanschuung; unfettered technological innovation, sophisticated financial markets, capitalistic shenanigans, glittery hedonism, Oreos, massive flows of FDI and overwhelming military intervention in the interests of securing global oil supplies? While reining in the moral banners, the pretensions to humanitarianism, the right-wing evangelism, and reality TV?
Hm. Back to work.
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