My sister writes:
"Tabea [my cat] recently had a bout of conjunctivitis. She was given a bottle of eye drops, and was a v good girl about it,unresistingly allowed [my husband] to apply the eye drops for her.
Last week I also had a spot of eye trouble and was given eye cream by the GP. Unlike the conjunctivitis eye drops I have used before, this was a sticky viscous cream that does not 'drip' from the bottle. In fact it wasn't even a bottle but a tube, and the cream was the consistency of cake icing.
I asked [my husband] to apply my eye cream for me.
I was wondering why it was so fluid as I was expecting something sticky.
He realized he had used [the cat]'s eye drops on me.
Thankfully it appears no major harm was done, which is good, because [my husband] is rubbish as a seeing eye dog."
L'origine de Bert
Showing posts with label contributions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label contributions. Show all posts
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Monday, May 09, 2011
Observations from a friend who was at Hougang Stadium on Saturday night (Workers' Party Election Assembly Point)
besides the usual "the crowd was crazy", several interesting things of note:
1. the WP candidate for Joo Chiat SMC gave a speech at the stadium after the narrow loss.
his final two sentences were "I HOPE JOO CHIAT WILL STILL BE AROUND NEXT ELECTIONS". and something about how he will come back stronger and fight harder to win it
CNA aired his speech after some delay, but those two lines were left out
2. the disgusting focus on the loser instead of the winner of aljunied, as you pointed out.
after the victory was announced, faisal (?) gave a short speech, and so did low thia khiang. and then almost immediately LTK announced that according to the rules, we have to clear the stadium within 30mins of the announcement of the final result (aljunied) so he asked us to clear out
we were quite confused/upset at this so we hung around and wanted to find out more (now i'm glad we hung around cos a few more interesting things happened)
well, there is this rule that says the stadium has to be cleared out 30mins after the release of the final GE result. but a few issues:
a) the aljunied result was known HOURS before (we spoke to some WP ppl and they admitted that) but they were not allowed to announce it until the media announces it. and the media decides the order in which they wish to announce the results. so... why did they choose to schedule the announcements this wya? why announce aljunied LAST and leave no time for victory speeches? this is a momentous and historic event and all we had was 10-15 minutes... the party chairperson didn't even get to speak and CNA in the background just kept airing george yeo and zainual abidin giving speeches!
[Addendum: @liangkaixin, a journalist, adds that "saw ur friend's observation. the media doesn't decide on the announcement of the result. returning officer announces and we broadcast"]
b) in fact, the potong pasir result was not yet announced, so technically it wasn't even the final GE result
c) but upon some reflectino, i think WP just wanted to play it safe and not run any small risk even of getting into trouble. which i think is fair. they need to be whiter than white.
3. now when we were hanging out near the barricades.. tv crew approached the small gathering (most of the crowd had dispersed) and it looked like they wnated to interview some people... and... this is what got me so riled up
the entire fucking crowd just... disappeared... as the tv crew approached, those previously rabid WP supporters just suddenly became.. no more
i was so upset. when you had the safety of numbers of anonymity, everybody was so willing to be shouting and screaming but when the camera approaches nobody dared to show their allegiance. i hate it you know, i really do
my personal motto is that the only real time you need to show allegiance is in times of trouble. so i make it a point to wear my liverpool jersey around after we lose.. after we win, i don't need to show support cos everybody else would
but anyway this is different. we had WON. and yet pppl were just.. i dunno, afraid? of being individually identified as WP supporters?
anyway i approached the camera, and they asked me several qns re whether today was signifcant for sg politics. what i think about the grc system and what i hope WP can do for us in parliament. i answered truthfully and, i hope, coherently.
after that, my friend asked where the tv ppl were from and they said they were from NHK
4. on the way back to the cars, i was alerted to the fact that a boy was being surrounded by what seemed to be policemen.. possibly ISD people.. my friends basically walked on... (i fucked them for that later) but i could not stand for it
so i went to the group of them... two of them were directly confronting the boy and some of them were idling around... they had their backs towards me. i walked up and placed my hand (reassuringly, i hope) on the boy's shoulder and said to him
"excuse me, i'm a law student. do you need help"
i figured quickly that they wanted to see the photos he had taken on his iphone. and looked him and the policemen in the eye, and said firmly, "you don't have to show them the photos if you don't wish to. are they arresting you? are they charging you with a seizable offence?" (regardless of what my prof had said in his email, i asked my police inspector friend about this before and he said that, in practice, they can't confiscate your stuff unless they are charging you with a seizable offence)
the guy looked at me and said "it's ok i have nothing to hide, i will let them see." and so he scrolled through his photos and openly let the two policemen take a look and went "if you think these photos are dangerous..."
they were just very innocent photos
i'm not bragging but i honestly felt like my intervention had put off the police people just a wee bit
but anyway in the end they agreed that there were no problems with the photos he took and they let him go
i just hate this.. FEAR thing you know. it's great the guy was not afraid at all and willing to be open about everything.. but still i think he had the right NOT to. simply if he did not wish to
5. then later we went to some place for supper, we sat down and waited 5 minutes and still nobody came to serve us
and now a group of PAP people in their white uniforms and party logos arrived.. and the moment they sat down, someone went to serve them
i could not take it anymore
and so after some deliberation, i stood up and said very loudly "we have been here for 5 minutes and nobody came to serve us, but these PAP ppl just arrived, and you serve them first. may i know why?"
but i said it with a lot of emotion... that's the problem with me. when i get passionate, i become a bit like CSJ. i wish i could always be as moderate as vincent... his style is totally different
and it's a better style than CSJ's emotional and frustrated style
i need to change that. i'm not necessarily angry or out of control but i was just... emotional, you know
one lone guy clapped at my little outburst and then we left and went to another shop
1. the WP candidate for Joo Chiat SMC gave a speech at the stadium after the narrow loss.
his final two sentences were "I HOPE JOO CHIAT WILL STILL BE AROUND NEXT ELECTIONS". and something about how he will come back stronger and fight harder to win it
CNA aired his speech after some delay, but those two lines were left out
2. the disgusting focus on the loser instead of the winner of aljunied, as you pointed out.
after the victory was announced, faisal (?) gave a short speech, and so did low thia khiang. and then almost immediately LTK announced that according to the rules, we have to clear the stadium within 30mins of the announcement of the final result (aljunied) so he asked us to clear out
we were quite confused/upset at this so we hung around and wanted to find out more (now i'm glad we hung around cos a few more interesting things happened)
well, there is this rule that says the stadium has to be cleared out 30mins after the release of the final GE result. but a few issues:
a) the aljunied result was known HOURS before (we spoke to some WP ppl and they admitted that) but they were not allowed to announce it until the media announces it. and the media decides the order in which they wish to announce the results. so... why did they choose to schedule the announcements this wya? why announce aljunied LAST and leave no time for victory speeches? this is a momentous and historic event and all we had was 10-15 minutes... the party chairperson didn't even get to speak and CNA in the background just kept airing george yeo and zainual abidin giving speeches!
[Addendum: @liangkaixin, a journalist, adds that "saw ur friend's observation. the media doesn't decide on the announcement of the result. returning officer announces and we broadcast"]
b) in fact, the potong pasir result was not yet announced, so technically it wasn't even the final GE result
c) but upon some reflectino, i think WP just wanted to play it safe and not run any small risk even of getting into trouble. which i think is fair. they need to be whiter than white.
3. now when we were hanging out near the barricades.. tv crew approached the small gathering (most of the crowd had dispersed) and it looked like they wnated to interview some people... and... this is what got me so riled up
the entire fucking crowd just... disappeared... as the tv crew approached, those previously rabid WP supporters just suddenly became.. no more
i was so upset. when you had the safety of numbers of anonymity, everybody was so willing to be shouting and screaming but when the camera approaches nobody dared to show their allegiance. i hate it you know, i really do
my personal motto is that the only real time you need to show allegiance is in times of trouble. so i make it a point to wear my liverpool jersey around after we lose.. after we win, i don't need to show support cos everybody else would
but anyway this is different. we had WON. and yet pppl were just.. i dunno, afraid? of being individually identified as WP supporters?
anyway i approached the camera, and they asked me several qns re whether today was signifcant for sg politics. what i think about the grc system and what i hope WP can do for us in parliament. i answered truthfully and, i hope, coherently.
after that, my friend asked where the tv ppl were from and they said they were from NHK
4. on the way back to the cars, i was alerted to the fact that a boy was being surrounded by what seemed to be policemen.. possibly ISD people.. my friends basically walked on... (i fucked them for that later) but i could not stand for it
so i went to the group of them... two of them were directly confronting the boy and some of them were idling around... they had their backs towards me. i walked up and placed my hand (reassuringly, i hope) on the boy's shoulder and said to him
"excuse me, i'm a law student. do you need help"
i figured quickly that they wanted to see the photos he had taken on his iphone. and looked him and the policemen in the eye, and said firmly, "you don't have to show them the photos if you don't wish to. are they arresting you? are they charging you with a seizable offence?" (regardless of what my prof had said in his email, i asked my police inspector friend about this before and he said that, in practice, they can't confiscate your stuff unless they are charging you with a seizable offence)
the guy looked at me and said "it's ok i have nothing to hide, i will let them see." and so he scrolled through his photos and openly let the two policemen take a look and went "if you think these photos are dangerous..."
they were just very innocent photos
i'm not bragging but i honestly felt like my intervention had put off the police people just a wee bit
but anyway in the end they agreed that there were no problems with the photos he took and they let him go
i just hate this.. FEAR thing you know. it's great the guy was not afraid at all and willing to be open about everything.. but still i think he had the right NOT to. simply if he did not wish to
5. then later we went to some place for supper, we sat down and waited 5 minutes and still nobody came to serve us
and now a group of PAP people in their white uniforms and party logos arrived.. and the moment they sat down, someone went to serve them
i could not take it anymore
and so after some deliberation, i stood up and said very loudly "we have been here for 5 minutes and nobody came to serve us, but these PAP ppl just arrived, and you serve them first. may i know why?"
but i said it with a lot of emotion... that's the problem with me. when i get passionate, i become a bit like CSJ. i wish i could always be as moderate as vincent... his style is totally different
and it's a better style than CSJ's emotional and frustrated style
i need to change that. i'm not necessarily angry or out of control but i was just... emotional, you know
one lone guy clapped at my little outburst and then we left and went to another shop
Post ID: 3231525678402440623
Friday, August 15, 2008
Sent by "Temptation" Chris:
1) Teatime Love Bite
A woman almost bit off her husband's willy as he cooked pancakes for tea -- while she gave him oral sex.
In the heat of passion he lost his grip on the pan and spilt boiling oil down her naked back.
She clenched her teeth on his willy and in agony he bashed her on the head with the pan.
Both only admitted how they recieved their injuries after "intense questioning" by hospital docs in Carloca, Romania.
The man needed treatment to his willy while the wife had burns, two black eyes, and a broken cheek bone.
2) Vibrating panties make woman faint with pleasure
A woman collapsed in a supermarket when her vibrating panties made her faint with pleasure.
The kinky 33-year-old housewife was wearing a pair of battery-operated passion panties, bought from a sex shop, while she did her shopping, according to the British tabloid The Sun.
But she got so stimulated by the 6cm vibrating bullet in her panties that she lost consciousness.
She fell and hit her head in the crowded supermarket in Swansea, Wales.
When paramedics arrived, they found her black imitation leather knickers still buzzing.
They took them off before an ambulance took her to hospital.
The woman, whose identity has been kept private, suffered no long lasting ill-effects.
And as she left the hospital, a paramedic gave her back the passion panties in a plastic bag.
A spokesman for the Asda supermarket chain told The Sun: "We like to think shopping with us is exciting enough already".
3) Swimmer Trapped by Beach Balls
A man got a nasty surprise when he tried to get out of his deckchair and found that his testicles had become stuck between two slats of wood. Mario Visnjic had been swimming naked off Valalta Beach in Croatia and his testicles had shrunk in the cool sea. When he sat down the his testicles slipped between the slats of his deck chair and then as he layed in the sun they expanded back to normal size. He was freed after he called beach maintenance services on his mobile phone and they sent a member of the staff to cut the deck chair in half.
1) Teatime Love Bite
A woman almost bit off her husband's willy as he cooked pancakes for tea -- while she gave him oral sex.
In the heat of passion he lost his grip on the pan and spilt boiling oil down her naked back.
She clenched her teeth on his willy and in agony he bashed her on the head with the pan.
Both only admitted how they recieved their injuries after "intense questioning" by hospital docs in Carloca, Romania.
The man needed treatment to his willy while the wife had burns, two black eyes, and a broken cheek bone.
2) Vibrating panties make woman faint with pleasure
A woman collapsed in a supermarket when her vibrating panties made her faint with pleasure.
The kinky 33-year-old housewife was wearing a pair of battery-operated passion panties, bought from a sex shop, while she did her shopping, according to the British tabloid The Sun.
But she got so stimulated by the 6cm vibrating bullet in her panties that she lost consciousness.
She fell and hit her head in the crowded supermarket in Swansea, Wales.
When paramedics arrived, they found her black imitation leather knickers still buzzing.
They took them off before an ambulance took her to hospital.
The woman, whose identity has been kept private, suffered no long lasting ill-effects.
And as she left the hospital, a paramedic gave her back the passion panties in a plastic bag.
A spokesman for the Asda supermarket chain told The Sun: "We like to think shopping with us is exciting enough already".
3) Swimmer Trapped by Beach Balls
A man got a nasty surprise when he tried to get out of his deckchair and found that his testicles had become stuck between two slats of wood. Mario Visnjic had been swimming naked off Valalta Beach in Croatia and his testicles had shrunk in the cool sea. When he sat down the his testicles slipped between the slats of his deck chair and then as he layed in the sun they expanded back to normal size. He was freed after he called beach maintenance services on his mobile phone and they sent a member of the staff to cut the deck chair in half.
Post ID: 6904608408259141391
Monday, May 05, 2008
"It was beautiful and simple, as truly great swindles are." - O. Henry
***
An email I got. Comments are welcome:
Hello Gabriel,
You don't know me (other than for a comment Ileft on your guestbook about your NYPS article ages ago) but I've beenreading your blog for a number of months now. I am a fellow NUS FASSundergrad and I honestly don't really know why I am writing this emailand disturbing you, an utter stranger, when I ought to be preparing forthe upcoming exams.
Anyway, I'd best be as succinct aspossible. I suppose my main motivation for writing this letter isbecause your blog is one of the few I've read (amongst those blogs byNUS students that I've read) that is smart and witty and isn't justabout trivial gossip and such. From your posts it seems you often talkto similarly intelligent people. And this, I guess, is what I'm reallywriting to you about. Although I've been in FASS for a only relativelyshort time, it seems almost everyone I speak to is an idiot. Perhaps Idon't mean stupid per se, but most of them seem to be the sort ofclose-minded person who rushes home just to watch their favoritemediacorp drama. In order words, I can't help but feel a twinge ofjealousy and probably some despair when I read about the kind of stuffyou post about, because I've never been able to do the same with thekind of people I associate with on campus. It's as if, despite being inthe same faculty, you and I study in different schools altogether.
To be fair, not everyone I meet in school is like this. I'm merely referring to the people I've had the (mis)fortune of associating with to date.
No,this isn't a letter of intent for stalking you or whatever. What Iguess all this boils down to is my wish for the people I interact withto be more intelligent and more critical rather than the rote-learningglorified photocopiers (I'm talking about people who think the lines of'OMG I have no personal opinion but I know how to regurgitate other people's and I have 20 references I'm gonna getan A LOL' [and sadly they really do]) that pass off for undergraduatesaround here.
Thanks for your patience if you've made it thisfar. Sorry for my poor letter writing skills and verbosity. I realizethis will probably get eaten by your spam filter and even if you do getto read it, you'd probably think I'm some weird jackass who likesemailing strangers for fun. That's fine; I'm only writing this becauseit seems, at this point in time, that you're the only fellowundergraduate I know (if only through your blog) who could understandthese sentiments.
Best Regards,
Annoyed in NUS.
Disclaimer:I am assiduously non-elitist. I am not discriminating against lessintelligent people nor am I implying that such people have any lessintrinsic worth.
Hi Gabriel,
Thanks for the reply. Hotmail fubar'ed after I clicked "send" and ate all the spaces for some reason (probably the same general reason why my laptop boots even slower after Vista SP1).
In response to your question - I am a Year * *** undergrad.
You're right, of course. I shouldn't expect much from the bulk of my peers; and in fact, I don't. One would naturally expect even the most intellectually slovenly person to at least make some kind of minor change to their lifestyle after being exposed to modules like even SC1101E. But no, they still go home and get willingly indoctrinated by the ideological tripe on our glorious state channels. They still stand mutely like little school kids when confronted by authority, even if that authority amounts to nothing more than an incompetent taxi driver (a true story). I've tried encouraging them to at least speak up for themselves (IMO the least anyone could do) but it was an exercise in frustration. It's all quite mind-boggling, really, considering the objective of a social science education.
(On a tangential note, I think SC1101E is a really crappy module. I didn't to see such arbitrary marking standards in any FASS discipline, least of all Sociology. In fact I've been totally put off Sociology after taking this module.)
I obviously have not met the right people, but thats where the root of my concerns lie. Social relations here seem rather clique'ish (as they are elsewhere, I suppose) and I've already wasted a year in bad company while these relations get more and more embedded. I'm afraid I won't be able to "penetrate" these cliques and have to stick with the very people I keep complaining about.
I'm probably being too pessimistic here I suppose. I'll have to wait till next semester and see.
Annoyed in NUS.
***
An email I got. Comments are welcome:
Hello Gabriel,
You don't know me (other than for a comment Ileft on your guestbook about your NYPS article ages ago) but I've beenreading your blog for a number of months now. I am a fellow NUS FASSundergrad and I honestly don't really know why I am writing this emailand disturbing you, an utter stranger, when I ought to be preparing forthe upcoming exams.
Anyway, I'd best be as succinct aspossible. I suppose my main motivation for writing this letter isbecause your blog is one of the few I've read (amongst those blogs byNUS students that I've read) that is smart and witty and isn't justabout trivial gossip and such. From your posts it seems you often talkto similarly intelligent people. And this, I guess, is what I'm reallywriting to you about. Although I've been in FASS for a only relativelyshort time, it seems almost everyone I speak to is an idiot. Perhaps Idon't mean stupid per se, but most of them seem to be the sort ofclose-minded person who rushes home just to watch their favoritemediacorp drama. In order words, I can't help but feel a twinge ofjealousy and probably some despair when I read about the kind of stuffyou post about, because I've never been able to do the same with thekind of people I associate with on campus. It's as if, despite being inthe same faculty, you and I study in different schools altogether.
To be fair, not everyone I meet in school is like this. I'm merely referring to the people I've had the (mis)fortune of associating with to date.
No,this isn't a letter of intent for stalking you or whatever. What Iguess all this boils down to is my wish for the people I interact withto be more intelligent and more critical rather than the rote-learningglorified photocopiers (I'm talking about people who think the lines of'OMG I have no personal opinion but I know how to regurgitate other people's and I have 20 references I'm gonna getan A LOL' [and sadly they really do]) that pass off for undergraduatesaround here.
Thanks for your patience if you've made it thisfar. Sorry for my poor letter writing skills and verbosity. I realizethis will probably get eaten by your spam filter and even if you do getto read it, you'd probably think I'm some weird jackass who likesemailing strangers for fun. That's fine; I'm only writing this becauseit seems, at this point in time, that you're the only fellowundergraduate I know (if only through your blog) who could understandthese sentiments.
Best Regards,
Annoyed in NUS.
Disclaimer:I am assiduously non-elitist. I am not discriminating against lessintelligent people nor am I implying that such people have any lessintrinsic worth.
Hi Gabriel,
Thanks for the reply. Hotmail fubar'ed after I clicked "send" and ate all the spaces for some reason (probably the same general reason why my laptop boots even slower after Vista SP1).
In response to your question - I am a Year * *** undergrad.
You're right, of course. I shouldn't expect much from the bulk of my peers; and in fact, I don't. One would naturally expect even the most intellectually slovenly person to at least make some kind of minor change to their lifestyle after being exposed to modules like even SC1101E. But no, they still go home and get willingly indoctrinated by the ideological tripe on our glorious state channels. They still stand mutely like little school kids when confronted by authority, even if that authority amounts to nothing more than an incompetent taxi driver (a true story). I've tried encouraging them to at least speak up for themselves (IMO the least anyone could do) but it was an exercise in frustration. It's all quite mind-boggling, really, considering the objective of a social science education.
(On a tangential note, I think SC1101E is a really crappy module. I didn't to see such arbitrary marking standards in any FASS discipline, least of all Sociology. In fact I've been totally put off Sociology after taking this module.)
I obviously have not met the right people, but thats where the root of my concerns lie. Social relations here seem rather clique'ish (as they are elsewhere, I suppose) and I've already wasted a year in bad company while these relations get more and more embedded. I'm afraid I won't be able to "penetrate" these cliques and have to stick with the very people I keep complaining about.
I'm probably being too pessimistic here I suppose. I'll have to wait till next semester and see.
Annoyed in NUS.
Post ID: 7755851450424194141
Saturday, October 13, 2007
"Originality is the fine art of remembering what you hear but forgetting where you heard it." - Laurence J. Peter
***
Comments on the anti-evolution nonsense talk from Law VCF:
A: Fairly big science community came down. Man it was such a lousy presentation. Full of quote mines and non sequitor. And massively evasive to boot. Wow...
He was so evasive that those who were rooting for him will be assured that nothing happened. Heh, he was expecting a friendly crowd but oh well...
Who else [but Law people] would come down when it's raining? Some from lky school though. Not sure about that [Cock's claim that half of NUS Law is fundie] but more evangelical than fundy i think. Anyway, in the endthe presentation was the argument from design using intelligent design.
I wouldn't have been so pissed off if he weren't so deceitful. Saying darwin wasn't religious. And then when I caught him out quotemining darwin, he dismissed it as a small matter. But yeah, part of it was the vcf's fault for portraying it as why evolution is wrong while id is right.
B: oh I went to the talk today. A was apoplectic throughout
thankfully there were some nus profs who took the guy apart more calmly
there were about 3-4 rows of ang mohs from the lky sch
well in the end I didn't ask any questions, mostly out of laziness, since there were so many other people who wanted to tear him apart anyway
certainly the VCF people seemed quite fundie
K. P. Mohanan: I was present at the talk yesterday. The problem, as I see it, is that neither Geisler nor his supporters understand -- let alone practice -- the norms of academic inquiry (with regard to what constitutes reliable evidence, what constitutes good reasoning, etc.). I am not a biologist, but I have an understanding of academic inquiry in relations to other traditions of knowledge, so I have been wondering if it would be useful for me give a talk in the Christian Law Society of NUS on this topic, with specific reference to intelligent design. Would you happen to know who to contact in the society? Please send me an email.
Mohanan (ellkpmoh@nus.edu.sg)
If anyone knows anyone in the Christian Law Society of NUS, please email KP Mohanan at the above email address.
***
Comments on the anti-evolution nonsense talk from Law VCF:
A: Fairly big science community came down. Man it was such a lousy presentation. Full of quote mines and non sequitor. And massively evasive to boot. Wow...
He was so evasive that those who were rooting for him will be assured that nothing happened. Heh, he was expecting a friendly crowd but oh well...
Who else [but Law people] would come down when it's raining? Some from lky school though. Not sure about that [Cock's claim that half of NUS Law is fundie] but more evangelical than fundy i think. Anyway, in the endthe presentation was the argument from design using intelligent design.
I wouldn't have been so pissed off if he weren't so deceitful. Saying darwin wasn't religious. And then when I caught him out quotemining darwin, he dismissed it as a small matter. But yeah, part of it was the vcf's fault for portraying it as why evolution is wrong while id is right.
B: oh I went to the talk today. A was apoplectic throughout
thankfully there were some nus profs who took the guy apart more calmly
there were about 3-4 rows of ang mohs from the lky sch
well in the end I didn't ask any questions, mostly out of laziness, since there were so many other people who wanted to tear him apart anyway
certainly the VCF people seemed quite fundie
K. P. Mohanan: I was present at the talk yesterday. The problem, as I see it, is that neither Geisler nor his supporters understand -- let alone practice -- the norms of academic inquiry (with regard to what constitutes reliable evidence, what constitutes good reasoning, etc.). I am not a biologist, but I have an understanding of academic inquiry in relations to other traditions of knowledge, so I have been wondering if it would be useful for me give a talk in the Christian Law Society of NUS on this topic, with specific reference to intelligent design. Would you happen to know who to contact in the society? Please send me an email.
Mohanan (ellkpmoh@nus.edu.sg)
If anyone knows anyone in the Christian Law Society of NUS, please email KP Mohanan at the above email address.
Post ID: 4109897464256512927
Sunday, September 09, 2007
"War is a cowardly escape from the problems of peace." - Thomas Mann
***
One of my takeaways from "Wear a hot and hideous dress to school Day" was that it was very hard and annoying to constantly not zaogeng. I asked some friends about how they coped with the sense of vulnerability, with some interesting responses:
A: I learnt to enjoy it [Ed: being vulnerable]
and wear pretty underwear
B: by meshing it with the power it gives
C: wear reasonably longer ones.
D: there isn't any
E: my skirts are usually long enough, my thighs are fat enough, and i walk very carefully
F: constant reminder to act demure in a skirt
[those wearing shorter ones are] trying very hard to be feminine
wat's wrong with zaogenging
the girl wanna show and the guys wanna watch
[Me: the feminists will kill you]
u mean feminists dun wanna show?
wat do feminists wear anyway?
G: the only time i can remember you seeing me in a skirt was when i wore one that almost dragged on the floor.
[those with shorter ones] want to be upskirted. why else would victoria's secret be so popular?
either that or the reverse: they know they're going to be upskirted, so you may as well buy nice underwear.
if you're serious about not being upskirted, wear granny panties.
it'll turn any guy's stomach.
Addendum: LDPVTP: of those listed, i would go with "there isn't any" the most
unless u wear longer skirts lor, or pants
although i've never heard any girl complaining abt tt
[girls in short skirts who get upskirted shouldn't complain] unless they're doing some sort of weird Ch 8 interpretation of demure bimbo.
***
One of my takeaways from "Wear a hot and hideous dress to school Day" was that it was very hard and annoying to constantly not zaogeng. I asked some friends about how they coped with the sense of vulnerability, with some interesting responses:
A: I learnt to enjoy it [Ed: being vulnerable]
and wear pretty underwear
B: by meshing it with the power it gives
C: wear reasonably longer ones.
D: there isn't any
E: my skirts are usually long enough, my thighs are fat enough, and i walk very carefully
F: constant reminder to act demure in a skirt
[those wearing shorter ones are] trying very hard to be feminine
wat's wrong with zaogenging
the girl wanna show and the guys wanna watch
[Me: the feminists will kill you]
u mean feminists dun wanna show?
wat do feminists wear anyway?
G: the only time i can remember you seeing me in a skirt was when i wore one that almost dragged on the floor.
[those with shorter ones] want to be upskirted. why else would victoria's secret be so popular?
either that or the reverse: they know they're going to be upskirted, so you may as well buy nice underwear.
if you're serious about not being upskirted, wear granny panties.
it'll turn any guy's stomach.
Addendum: LDPVTP: of those listed, i would go with "there isn't any" the most
unless u wear longer skirts lor, or pants
although i've never heard any girl complaining abt tt
[girls in short skirts who get upskirted shouldn't complain] unless they're doing some sort of weird Ch 8 interpretation of demure bimbo.
Post ID: 3230682258469186359
Monday, July 30, 2007
"History is indeed little more than the register of the crimes, follies and misfortunes of mankind." - Edward Gibbon
***
someone:
- Extracts from The Great Big Glorious Book for Girls, by Rosemary Davidson and Sarah Vine, published by Penguin.
HOW TO DEAL WITH BOYS
The main difference between boys and girls is that boys like doing things - driving cars, playing football, throwing stuff, eating, farting, etc - and girls like feeling things - love, friendship, happiness, excitement, etc. Boys are physical; girls are emotional. Of course this is a gross generalisation, but when you ask a boy "how are you feeling?" he will probably answer "hungry" or "cold" and not "deliriously happy because I'm with you". This can be disappointing but it can't really be helped, as expressing emotion comes as naturally to a boy as ballet does to an elephant.
If you are friends with a boy, bear in mind the following: boys worry a great deal about what other boys think of them. Therefore, even if a boy really likes you, he will be weird about showing this in front of other boys. If he is very immature, he may ignore you completely when he's with his friends. This means that he is probably too much of a baby to bother with, although you may wish to give him a second chance if he apologises and promises never to do it again. If he is actively rude to you in front of his mates, forget about him. He is not just immature, he is an idiot.
Boys are often spoilt by their mothers so they have a tendency to think that girls should do all the boring things in life, like cleaning, cooking and ironing their favourite T-shirt, while they get to do all the exciting things, like jet-skiing, playing in rock bands and being spies. Don't indulge this belief; the sooner they get reeducated the better.
Boys don't always say what they mean and often they don't mean what they say. Communication is not their strong point. They're not terribly sensitive to other people's moods, either, so if you are upset about something you will have to spell it out: it's unlikely that he'll work it out for himself, no matter how much sulking you do or moody hints you drop. Just tell him what's bothering you and he'll probably be genuinely surprised and sorry that he has upset you.
Although boys go to great pains to show the world a confident front, underneath they are as insecure as us. Sometimes, when it's obvious that they are feeling sad (you will know this through your superior intuition), a bit of encouragement or a compliment can help them to feel better. One of the nicest things you can say to a boy is that he is good at something, eg, skateboarding, building a tree house, solving quadratic equations.
If you remember these few basic rules, boys can be among the best friends you'll ever have. And they will carry your books for you, too.
***
I should have a tag called 'misandry', but 'sexism' will do.
***
someone:
- Extracts from The Great Big Glorious Book for Girls, by Rosemary Davidson and Sarah Vine, published by Penguin.
HOW TO DEAL WITH BOYS
The main difference between boys and girls is that boys like doing things - driving cars, playing football, throwing stuff, eating, farting, etc - and girls like feeling things - love, friendship, happiness, excitement, etc. Boys are physical; girls are emotional. Of course this is a gross generalisation, but when you ask a boy "how are you feeling?" he will probably answer "hungry" or "cold" and not "deliriously happy because I'm with you". This can be disappointing but it can't really be helped, as expressing emotion comes as naturally to a boy as ballet does to an elephant.
If you are friends with a boy, bear in mind the following: boys worry a great deal about what other boys think of them. Therefore, even if a boy really likes you, he will be weird about showing this in front of other boys. If he is very immature, he may ignore you completely when he's with his friends. This means that he is probably too much of a baby to bother with, although you may wish to give him a second chance if he apologises and promises never to do it again. If he is actively rude to you in front of his mates, forget about him. He is not just immature, he is an idiot.
Boys are often spoilt by their mothers so they have a tendency to think that girls should do all the boring things in life, like cleaning, cooking and ironing their favourite T-shirt, while they get to do all the exciting things, like jet-skiing, playing in rock bands and being spies. Don't indulge this belief; the sooner they get reeducated the better.
Boys don't always say what they mean and often they don't mean what they say. Communication is not their strong point. They're not terribly sensitive to other people's moods, either, so if you are upset about something you will have to spell it out: it's unlikely that he'll work it out for himself, no matter how much sulking you do or moody hints you drop. Just tell him what's bothering you and he'll probably be genuinely surprised and sorry that he has upset you.
Although boys go to great pains to show the world a confident front, underneath they are as insecure as us. Sometimes, when it's obvious that they are feeling sad (you will know this through your superior intuition), a bit of encouragement or a compliment can help them to feel better. One of the nicest things you can say to a boy is that he is good at something, eg, skateboarding, building a tree house, solving quadratic equations.
If you remember these few basic rules, boys can be among the best friends you'll ever have. And they will carry your books for you, too.
***
I should have a tag called 'misandry', but 'sexism' will do.
Post ID: 3860803547543025963
Sunday, June 10, 2007
someone (sent last week):
Subject: race and class
Message: just reading your latest blog entry and want to tell you what happened when i brought *** to chapel at king's college on wednesday.
after the service, instead of exiting the college, i wanted to go to the toilet so we made a detour into the college. as i was heading towards the college bar (with toilets), one of the fellows of the college (he was walking towards us on the grass) came up to me and barricaded my way with his umbrella. he then rudely asked me 'are you a member of kings'. i said no, but i am a member of the university (ie 2nd class but still with more privileges than a member of the public, 3rd class). he then asked me 'where are you going', at that point i should have asked him, 'why,where are YOU going' but i was so shocked at his rudeness that i just told him i was going to the bar. whereupon he let me proceed.
i can tell you with 100% certainty that this only happened because it was 2 yellow people. if i had been with a white person, a black person, a green or purple person, it would not have happened.
so race does matter. in this case, i was of the right class (ie a member of the university) but all this man could see was race and that superseded everything else.
i should add that kings probably suffers the most from tourists, out of which, yellow (predominantly PRC) tourists are the most irritating and badly behaved. i go to king's for chapel quite often and am only treated with courtesy and respect by the chapel staff but it's a different matter for some of the other staff in the college. in a way you cannot blame them because a high percentage of the tourists who misbehave are yellow (PRC) so all yellow people get tarred by association.
another reason to hate and despise PRCs
Subject: race and class
Message: just reading your latest blog entry and want to tell you what happened when i brought *** to chapel at king's college on wednesday.
after the service, instead of exiting the college, i wanted to go to the toilet so we made a detour into the college. as i was heading towards the college bar (with toilets), one of the fellows of the college (he was walking towards us on the grass) came up to me and barricaded my way with his umbrella. he then rudely asked me 'are you a member of kings'. i said no, but i am a member of the university (ie 2nd class but still with more privileges than a member of the public, 3rd class). he then asked me 'where are you going', at that point i should have asked him, 'why,where are YOU going' but i was so shocked at his rudeness that i just told him i was going to the bar. whereupon he let me proceed.
i can tell you with 100% certainty that this only happened because it was 2 yellow people. if i had been with a white person, a black person, a green or purple person, it would not have happened.
so race does matter. in this case, i was of the right class (ie a member of the university) but all this man could see was race and that superseded everything else.
i should add that kings probably suffers the most from tourists, out of which, yellow (predominantly PRC) tourists are the most irritating and badly behaved. i go to king's for chapel quite often and am only treated with courtesy and respect by the chapel staff but it's a different matter for some of the other staff in the college. in a way you cannot blame them because a high percentage of the tourists who misbehave are yellow (PRC) so all yellow people get tarred by association.
another reason to hate and despise PRCs
Post ID: 5668867589135250613
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
On PM Lee's statement that he would donate his S$600,000 pay increase to charity for the next 5 years -
With effect from 1 January 2005, Double tax deduction will be allowed for:
1. donations to name IPCs, IPC facilities, events or programmes,
2. donations to name facilities of approved beneficiaries (including artefacts and public sculptures) under any of the other approved donation programmes,
3. donations under any of the approved donation programme where the IPC or approved beneficiary acknowledgesthe donation by including the donor's name or logo in the IPC'scollaterals (e.g. banners, publications, advertisements).
(source: http://www.iras.gov.sg/ESVPortal/others/charities/charities_g1.4.1a_which+donations+are+tax-deductible.asp)
Calculations:
Current salary: S$3.1 mil (Taxable income: S$3.1 mil)
Increase by: S$600,000
Donation to charity: S$600,000
Double tax deduction allocated: S$1.2 mil
Previous Salary: S$2.5 mil (Taxable income: S$2.5 mil)
New Taxable Income: S$3.1 mil - S$1.2 mil = S$1.9 mil
Using a gross personal income tax at a 20% rate (for the income bracket of S$320,000 and above)
Gross income after tax previously, taxable income @ S$2.5 mil:
Total amt after tax: S$2 mil
With donation:
Gross income after tax, taxable income @ S$1.9 mil:
Gross income: S$3.1 mil
Donation to charity: S$0.6 mil
Tax to be paid: S$0.38 mil
Total amt after tax: S$2.12 mil
Without donation:
Gross income after tax, taxable income @$3.1 mil: S$2.48 mil
Gross income: S$3.1mil
Donation to charity: S$0
Tax to be paid: S$0.62mil
Total amt after tax: S$2.48mil
Net Difference with/without donation: S$360,000
Anyway.
[begin feed: Apr 2007]
Counter: MR4
Previous support level set at $1.2 mil.
Positive breakout on 9 April, with a gap up to $1.6 mil. Likely to remain at $1.6 mil for a few years before trending even higher in 2012, following positive electorate news.
Exponential uptrend in the 2000-day Moving Average.
Heavy divergence in the 1000d/2500d MACD from signal line.
Initiate Strong Buy on this counter.
[end feed]
(if you're still in the dark, go look up "MR4" on Google Singapore)
With effect from 1 January 2005, Double tax deduction will be allowed for:
1. donations to name IPCs, IPC facilities, events or programmes,
2. donations to name facilities of approved beneficiaries (including artefacts and public sculptures) under any of the other approved donation programmes,
3. donations under any of the approved donation programme where the IPC or approved beneficiary acknowledgesthe donation by including the donor's name or logo in the IPC'scollaterals (e.g. banners, publications, advertisements).
(source: http://www.iras.gov.sg/ESVPortal/others/charities/charities_g1.4.1a_which+donations+are+tax-deductible.asp)
Calculations:
Current salary: S$3.1 mil (Taxable income: S$3.1 mil)
Increase by: S$600,000
Donation to charity: S$600,000
Double tax deduction allocated: S$1.2 mil
Previous Salary: S$2.5 mil (Taxable income: S$2.5 mil)
New Taxable Income: S$3.1 mil - S$1.2 mil = S$1.9 mil
Using a gross personal income tax at a 20% rate (for the income bracket of S$320,000 and above)
Gross income after tax previously, taxable income @ S$2.5 mil:
Total amt after tax: S$2 mil
With donation:
Gross income after tax, taxable income @ S$1.9 mil:
Gross income: S$3.1 mil
Donation to charity: S$0.6 mil
Tax to be paid: S$0.38 mil
Total amt after tax: S$2.12 mil
Without donation:
Gross income after tax, taxable income @$3.1 mil: S$2.48 mil
Gross income: S$3.1mil
Donation to charity: S$0
Tax to be paid: S$0.62mil
Total amt after tax: S$2.48mil
Net Difference with/without donation: S$360,000
Anyway.
[begin feed: Apr 2007]
Counter: MR4
Previous support level set at $1.2 mil.
Positive breakout on 9 April, with a gap up to $1.6 mil. Likely to remain at $1.6 mil for a few years before trending even higher in 2012, following positive electorate news.
Exponential uptrend in the 2000-day Moving Average.
Heavy divergence in the 1000d/2500d MACD from signal line.
Initiate Strong Buy on this counter.
[end feed]
(if you're still in the dark, go look up "MR4" on Google Singapore)
Post ID: 3389447364097076394
Sunday, May 07, 2006
Here follows part 2 of rae Ume's story of his experience as a Slave.
rey is in a state of delirium yet reserved excitement over the potential outcome of his Canadian asylum hearing and its implications for his self n his future agenda which possibly involves the evisceration of conscription from the tradition of singapore. if anyone who reads this is in vancouver he'll treat them to coffee
Part 1 of the tale of woe and despair
I probably could have endured NS normally like the average conscript. The physical aspect of it would probably be just slightly higher than mentally-detached tolerable, meaning that at least some mental acceptance and support are needed to survive. If one is sincere in participating in the activities of the SAF, it is very improbable that physical mishap can befall the common conscript and render death upon him, because that is extremely abhorred and unintended of by the SAF. Thus, the basic near-infallible survival mantra of NS would be to blindly follow, have basic belief and support for the system and not to use any intellect or human sense at all for the entire existence in NS. It is a cheap way to live, cheating one of his principles and beliefs. To think and question would be extremely strenuous and dangerous for the mind, as it would result in doubt and discontent, as well as notions of individualism. With regard to me, all this in a nutshell is that I did not manage to believe in NS at all, as I have been so incontrovertibly corrupted by my previous life experiences as a free intellectual that I could not possibly adapt to the oppressive mental state as demanded of me by the SAF. It does not even serve a purpose which I believe in, thus rendering any romantic sincerity on my part impossible to attain. In this way, it meant that to survive one must adopt the SAF mental regime; and since most will do just about anything to survive, it meant that this mental conversion and bondage will be a very big reality among conscripts. I would also perform remarkable feats to survive, and I performed an unorthodox one for myself, probably never expected of by the SAF.
In my reserved rebellion to the SAF I have turned from one of the fit to one of the least fit in my BMT company in 3 short weeks. I also fell sick with a bacterial infection of the throat, due to stress doubtless. I have reported sick and I have obtained medicine, but I never recovered because I had no rest. In fact, my sickness worsened because I had to participate in almost all of the activities of the platoon. I spent many nights awake, struggling within for the mastery between physical preservation and the matter of principles. At the end of third week field camp was scheduled to arrive. I was extremely frail on the night before and already had many nights of sleeplessness. The next day I went to report sick. I told my sergeant that I had a throat infection. He replied cynically that I should not report sick if it was not life-threatening. By that time I have pretty much gotten used to such attitudes and remarks, and my technique of handling them was to just act stupid and pitiful or remorseful. Anyway whatever the case I made sure I had my way. I managed to report sick and when I was interviewed by the MO, I told him that I actually was suffering from depression and that I could not tolerate the rigours of BMT anymore, and I told him that field camp was the main reason for it. I also broke down forcedly to make my case. With a threatening hand, as if to slap me, he ordered me to stop crying in a raised voice. Then he gave me a form for the suspension of BMT, and he dismissed me. I filled in the form in the toilet, with such a feeling of ecstasy within me! I had never been so excited. I was basically struggling from bursting out in hysterics. I was finally suspended from training! I returned to my company and filed my form to the clerk with relish. There is a space to be filled in by the MO for the reason of suspension, and for mine it read “Undisclosed”. I basically told everyone that I did not know why the doctor wrote it that, but my back was really hurting me! I must have appeared quite genuine because I was in such awesome spirits, it was quite difficult to imagine me being depressed. For the next few days, I did area cleaning and ad hoc duties around the company block. It was a good time for physical recuperation and refuge from mental and principle harassment. I had a routine interview with my platoon commander and there was not an ounce of sincere information he got from me. Even by then, the conscripts were asked to fill in many forms, and I had the good habit of misinforming in many of them. Giving false contact numbers and false educational backgrounds was a very normal routine. My contempt and disregard for the system were ever present.
My feelings at this time were quite relieved. I did not have to worry about suffering unrestrained indignity from my superiors, or adapting our minds to the subliminal programmes of our superiors or the SAF in general. I was rather much spared from the insidious influence of the social-reforming characteristic of NS. One time, the OOT conscripts were together at the water area filling up jerry cans. A sergeant walked in and stared at us. He told us that he had found a critique letter in the company office. The letter is yet unsigned and he wanted to know who wrote it! At that point he was hurling insults and threats at us with such rapidity and ferocity even I felt a little threatened, conditioned as I was to such abuse. He finally found out who the author was through his abuse. As he stood there condemning the poor conscript to hell, the rest of us, roughly 3 persons, stood there solemnly and observed the spectacle. As it was slowly revealed, it appeared that the conscript in question had written a letter to be sent to someone high up, and that the letter mentioned of abuse by the instructors by ignoring the conscript’s physical ailments, which was some sort of knee problem I presume. Anyway the sergeant was abusing him roundly with insults and knuckle-shaking, and as it that were not enough, he had to involve the conscript’s parents too in his abuse. Many times I wanted to step in, knowing that the sergeant had no authority over me and my opinions, but I was afraid that I might jeopardise my position as there are many creative and shady ways that he can make life hell for me. Since I was not really a pet among the instructors, I thought it unwise to butt in as I had no leverage in case of anything.
By then, I had already experienced myself changing, unconsciously being affected by the environment of “listen, obey, unquestioningly”. It was a feeling of fear, worry and wariness. Prior, I would normally spend a second or two thinking before committing an action, be it speech or movement. I was not a person who was bothered with appearing rude, even if I were aware of myself. I was not exceedingly polite too, unless if I wanted to. I was not rude, just not being over-polite. However, I began to change, and I had to be aware of my behaviour. I felt an obligation to be over-polite, as if acting the contrary might welcome some form of unhappiness. I began to behave in a reflexive, humiliating, servile and solicitous manner towards all forms of authority. Behaving like this made me feel “safe”, and such a feeling was very welcome in that minatory atmosphere. I would answer every command and question authority posed with enthusiasm and a smile, acting willing but incompetent. It was undignified but comforting, comforting to know that I might not be offending anyone with my seemingly “impertinent” attitude. It was perhaps controllable behaviour on my part, but I was too exhausted and wary to attempt anything that might appear offensive.
Life had begun to treat me better. I was beginning to settle down into my lifestyle, forgetting about my scruples and dissent. It was a laid-back country life, albeit a slave life. My company was still in field camp, and the OOTs had the whole company block to themselves. My normal routine would be to wake up, bring food from the cookhouse to the company block, and fill up the jerry cans with water whenever the trucks come back from field camp. There were many other ad hoc duties, but I do not remember anything now. The whole military experience was one that I loathed and tried hard to forget, and it would be impossible to recall complete, or even accurate, memories of what transpired. I was later posted to become a storeman in Murai Camp. The posting came a few days after my company came back from field camp. It will be from that moment on that I gradually and inexorably transformed into a lethargic, depressed, defeated individual, with no more motivation left for life. I wanted to defeat conscription with a professional and clinical attitude, one that I could adopt quite easily with my personality and previous expertise in family and social backgrounds. I have completed putting on my false front. This mask will unknowingly become so ingrained with my life that one day I will forget my goals and original self.
I turned into the veritable Kengster/slacker. I did what I could to master and exploit the system in my new surroundings. Murai Camp was a slack camp, a small establishment with the accompanying easy atmosphere. It was a stay-out camp and my department would come late by 10-15 minutes everyday. A department detachment in the neighbouring Tengah Airbase has no supervision, and those who were assigned there probably came late by half an hour each day. And the duties they performed were basically nothing but man the unused stores. They slept their time away there. My duties were slightly different. Since I was considered the most highly educated in the department, the only one who had gone through JC, I was supposed to take over the cookhouse record duties of the department. It was a job that required a lot of Excel and minute number sifting. I could have learned it and done it, but I did not. I was a good actor, I pretended to be a complete klutz with computers, and they bought it all. The person teaching me was a LCP conscript who had been there for some time. He was an interesting character, but basically almost everyone in the department had a story to tell, provided they wanted to tell it. There was Simon, the one I believed was the most pitiful, and who received my greatest sympathy, and Kumar, the married youngster who was really affable and interesting in his own way. There were many others too, but these two were the main ones that stood out in my memories. I proved (or pretended) to be the earnest but luckless dimwit who could not achieve in any endeavour, the pitiful complaisant little bastard who got on well with everyone, or mostly anyone with authority. The others I simply pitied, because they were conscripts like me, unwilling slaves, or perhaps who had become uninformed converts to the system through the grindstone of the military tradition. Those who got on my wrong side would be treated with frustration, but I did no more, and I could not do more, because it would be incorrect of me. Our lives never should have crossed, and never should have offended each other, if not for the monstrous effect of the military. We, as humans, should have and would have complemented each other. I was confident of my beliefs. Unfortunately, the brute brunt might of coercive power will crush everything in its path. Such was power.
I could provide irrelevant but interesting anecdotes in this account, but for the sake of consistency to the theme, which was the depressing and unmitigated transformation of an individual and his thinking into something very pitiful, corrupt and malevolent, I will reserve my camp stories for another time. During my time in camp, I socialised a lot with the RPs and the clerks from HQ. I would spread my dissident and subversive ideas to them, the condemnation of the system, the dirt of the system, the injustice and incorrectness of the system. Everyday is cursed for me. I would wake up in the morning to find myself deprived of sleep because I could not sleep the night before, or because I was ruminating on the system. I would spit so often, mostly because of the disgust and anger at some sudden thought on the system. I would swear so often, even at hapless and innocent people, like the old lady who stank or the volunteer worker doing a fund drive. I had lost my ability to rationalise or be sensible. It was a sad time to be alive. I was an angry man. A sad and angry man. There were many times when I curse my impotency and question why I did not perish on that fateful day. There were many times when I wonder why I am even still alive, why I have to continue serving. I wonder why I serve, whom I serve, and why I do not have the courage to stop doing such an infernal thing! Perhaps that would be my real self manifesting. My mask would normally not ask such questions but invest and enjoy the clinical yield from tactical manoeuvring and system exploitation and abuse. I would not involve more with the system, and I enjoyed my status as the useless storeman who knew nothing and did nothing. However, I was to be sent for the storeman course. I would not learn and participate, but falling short of an outright rebellion, my mask sprang into action. I went for the course. A few days into it, I went to TTSH to declare depression. It was actually quite true, because I was seemingly at my wits’ end as to how to end this complicity with the system. Ironically, the answer was to be honest, something which totally escaped my mask, but still ultimately got to my attention. The doctor at TTSH was quite bewildered and cynical, but who was I to bother? I was the one who have learned to curse at tottering old ladies. He wondered what depression a storeman could have. I could have explained it to him, but it would have required 5 cups of coffee and a lot of logical work from his mind, not to mention an inordinate amount of time. Since I had none of those, the truth is best kept with me. Anyways, who can determine depression truly? Only the depressed knows. Only he, has the benefit of the doubt. He, he, and he alone. That is why the system is ineffective and wrong. I was to be dropped from my course, but I passed the theory and practical test on the last day. I even managed to fulfil the minimum attendance requirement. I had quite a lot of days of absence. I had the ability to judge which authority was exploitable and which would be better off avoiding.
Time really crawled in the military. In time, I was to be called for a FFI review. If I passed, I would head back to BMT. I did not wish to experience the same routine again, and my mind always panicked when there was an FFI. There was a real incentive to beat the system, and I was sure this incentive applied to everyone. It was a competition, with real advantages, without any immorality, but utter rationality. I had luck. I suffered an acute back pain, without really knowing the cause. I went to a TCM practitioner. She gave me 2 weeks of MC. I knew it would have been an invalid MC, but I used it anyway. It was bold of me, but I knew I had everything going for me as I had never been told of such an impropriety of visiting a TCMP, and I had a genuine problem, which could probably have been verified by the western practice. After my hiatus was up, I went to validate my MC at the MO. The MO was an extremely nice reservist who did not even look twice at it before stamping its validity. We even discussed a little about how silly conscription was. When I submitted my MC to the administration office, they informed me there was a problem, and possibly a gigantic problem. They told me that TCM MCs were not accepted. I knew then that I could play my way out of it, because I had it validated, and I did not know anything about such a policy. Furthermore, the admin staff were all good friends of mine. In the end, they accepted it, but in an underhand sort of way. That problem would ultimately cause a referral from the MO to the SAFTI physiotherapist, starting a long term relationship with colossal camp-cutting. I would normally schedule my appointments in the afternoon, picking prime Fridays, and other assorted days, and definitely afternoon. If the appointment was at 3, I would leave camp at 1, arrive there at 2:30ish, get some food, go in for probably 20 minutes, come out and go home, and to be free from authority. Initially, it would be as frequently as 3 appointments a week, but it slowly slowed to once a week, and it was good too because my officers were already watching my back because I was probably the most notorious slacker in camp, even if I did not openly reveal my exploits in exploitation. If I were given any task, I would take 2-3 times the time for other people to do it, and I had no qualms with staying back. My method would be to 1st, expend as little energy as possible in the task and 2nd, build on my earnest but luckless dimwit image. I had to be extremely professional in all my hidden agendas, and my extensive early training in school on professionalism and perfection proved really useful to me. However, I proved to be extremely competent in tasks which I find advantageous in doing, like despatch which the QM department had many of, and other out-of-camp businesses. Ultimately, my working method won me abstinence from delegation for onerous hard labour, and assignment of many despatch tasks, of most which I was allowed to exploit the system and earn many benefits, like going straight home after business, or spending an inordinate period out of camp. Thinking back now, life was really cheap and pathetic then. I am ashamed that I harboured such attitudes and committed such actions. I am such an asshole. Such feelings manifest itself often, especially now, after I am free from that evil institution, and I still do not know how to deal with them. But I am digressing, and the next chapter begins.
rey is in a state of delirium yet reserved excitement over the potential outcome of his Canadian asylum hearing and its implications for his self n his future agenda which possibly involves the evisceration of conscription from the tradition of singapore. if anyone who reads this is in vancouver he'll treat them to coffee
Part 1 of the tale of woe and despair
I probably could have endured NS normally like the average conscript. The physical aspect of it would probably be just slightly higher than mentally-detached tolerable, meaning that at least some mental acceptance and support are needed to survive. If one is sincere in participating in the activities of the SAF, it is very improbable that physical mishap can befall the common conscript and render death upon him, because that is extremely abhorred and unintended of by the SAF. Thus, the basic near-infallible survival mantra of NS would be to blindly follow, have basic belief and support for the system and not to use any intellect or human sense at all for the entire existence in NS. It is a cheap way to live, cheating one of his principles and beliefs. To think and question would be extremely strenuous and dangerous for the mind, as it would result in doubt and discontent, as well as notions of individualism. With regard to me, all this in a nutshell is that I did not manage to believe in NS at all, as I have been so incontrovertibly corrupted by my previous life experiences as a free intellectual that I could not possibly adapt to the oppressive mental state as demanded of me by the SAF. It does not even serve a purpose which I believe in, thus rendering any romantic sincerity on my part impossible to attain. In this way, it meant that to survive one must adopt the SAF mental regime; and since most will do just about anything to survive, it meant that this mental conversion and bondage will be a very big reality among conscripts. I would also perform remarkable feats to survive, and I performed an unorthodox one for myself, probably never expected of by the SAF.
In my reserved rebellion to the SAF I have turned from one of the fit to one of the least fit in my BMT company in 3 short weeks. I also fell sick with a bacterial infection of the throat, due to stress doubtless. I have reported sick and I have obtained medicine, but I never recovered because I had no rest. In fact, my sickness worsened because I had to participate in almost all of the activities of the platoon. I spent many nights awake, struggling within for the mastery between physical preservation and the matter of principles. At the end of third week field camp was scheduled to arrive. I was extremely frail on the night before and already had many nights of sleeplessness. The next day I went to report sick. I told my sergeant that I had a throat infection. He replied cynically that I should not report sick if it was not life-threatening. By that time I have pretty much gotten used to such attitudes and remarks, and my technique of handling them was to just act stupid and pitiful or remorseful. Anyway whatever the case I made sure I had my way. I managed to report sick and when I was interviewed by the MO, I told him that I actually was suffering from depression and that I could not tolerate the rigours of BMT anymore, and I told him that field camp was the main reason for it. I also broke down forcedly to make my case. With a threatening hand, as if to slap me, he ordered me to stop crying in a raised voice. Then he gave me a form for the suspension of BMT, and he dismissed me. I filled in the form in the toilet, with such a feeling of ecstasy within me! I had never been so excited. I was basically struggling from bursting out in hysterics. I was finally suspended from training! I returned to my company and filed my form to the clerk with relish. There is a space to be filled in by the MO for the reason of suspension, and for mine it read “Undisclosed”. I basically told everyone that I did not know why the doctor wrote it that, but my back was really hurting me! I must have appeared quite genuine because I was in such awesome spirits, it was quite difficult to imagine me being depressed. For the next few days, I did area cleaning and ad hoc duties around the company block. It was a good time for physical recuperation and refuge from mental and principle harassment. I had a routine interview with my platoon commander and there was not an ounce of sincere information he got from me. Even by then, the conscripts were asked to fill in many forms, and I had the good habit of misinforming in many of them. Giving false contact numbers and false educational backgrounds was a very normal routine. My contempt and disregard for the system were ever present.
My feelings at this time were quite relieved. I did not have to worry about suffering unrestrained indignity from my superiors, or adapting our minds to the subliminal programmes of our superiors or the SAF in general. I was rather much spared from the insidious influence of the social-reforming characteristic of NS. One time, the OOT conscripts were together at the water area filling up jerry cans. A sergeant walked in and stared at us. He told us that he had found a critique letter in the company office. The letter is yet unsigned and he wanted to know who wrote it! At that point he was hurling insults and threats at us with such rapidity and ferocity even I felt a little threatened, conditioned as I was to such abuse. He finally found out who the author was through his abuse. As he stood there condemning the poor conscript to hell, the rest of us, roughly 3 persons, stood there solemnly and observed the spectacle. As it was slowly revealed, it appeared that the conscript in question had written a letter to be sent to someone high up, and that the letter mentioned of abuse by the instructors by ignoring the conscript’s physical ailments, which was some sort of knee problem I presume. Anyway the sergeant was abusing him roundly with insults and knuckle-shaking, and as it that were not enough, he had to involve the conscript’s parents too in his abuse. Many times I wanted to step in, knowing that the sergeant had no authority over me and my opinions, but I was afraid that I might jeopardise my position as there are many creative and shady ways that he can make life hell for me. Since I was not really a pet among the instructors, I thought it unwise to butt in as I had no leverage in case of anything.
By then, I had already experienced myself changing, unconsciously being affected by the environment of “listen, obey, unquestioningly”. It was a feeling of fear, worry and wariness. Prior, I would normally spend a second or two thinking before committing an action, be it speech or movement. I was not a person who was bothered with appearing rude, even if I were aware of myself. I was not exceedingly polite too, unless if I wanted to. I was not rude, just not being over-polite. However, I began to change, and I had to be aware of my behaviour. I felt an obligation to be over-polite, as if acting the contrary might welcome some form of unhappiness. I began to behave in a reflexive, humiliating, servile and solicitous manner towards all forms of authority. Behaving like this made me feel “safe”, and such a feeling was very welcome in that minatory atmosphere. I would answer every command and question authority posed with enthusiasm and a smile, acting willing but incompetent. It was undignified but comforting, comforting to know that I might not be offending anyone with my seemingly “impertinent” attitude. It was perhaps controllable behaviour on my part, but I was too exhausted and wary to attempt anything that might appear offensive.
Life had begun to treat me better. I was beginning to settle down into my lifestyle, forgetting about my scruples and dissent. It was a laid-back country life, albeit a slave life. My company was still in field camp, and the OOTs had the whole company block to themselves. My normal routine would be to wake up, bring food from the cookhouse to the company block, and fill up the jerry cans with water whenever the trucks come back from field camp. There were many other ad hoc duties, but I do not remember anything now. The whole military experience was one that I loathed and tried hard to forget, and it would be impossible to recall complete, or even accurate, memories of what transpired. I was later posted to become a storeman in Murai Camp. The posting came a few days after my company came back from field camp. It will be from that moment on that I gradually and inexorably transformed into a lethargic, depressed, defeated individual, with no more motivation left for life. I wanted to defeat conscription with a professional and clinical attitude, one that I could adopt quite easily with my personality and previous expertise in family and social backgrounds. I have completed putting on my false front. This mask will unknowingly become so ingrained with my life that one day I will forget my goals and original self.
I turned into the veritable Kengster/slacker. I did what I could to master and exploit the system in my new surroundings. Murai Camp was a slack camp, a small establishment with the accompanying easy atmosphere. It was a stay-out camp and my department would come late by 10-15 minutes everyday. A department detachment in the neighbouring Tengah Airbase has no supervision, and those who were assigned there probably came late by half an hour each day. And the duties they performed were basically nothing but man the unused stores. They slept their time away there. My duties were slightly different. Since I was considered the most highly educated in the department, the only one who had gone through JC, I was supposed to take over the cookhouse record duties of the department. It was a job that required a lot of Excel and minute number sifting. I could have learned it and done it, but I did not. I was a good actor, I pretended to be a complete klutz with computers, and they bought it all. The person teaching me was a LCP conscript who had been there for some time. He was an interesting character, but basically almost everyone in the department had a story to tell, provided they wanted to tell it. There was Simon, the one I believed was the most pitiful, and who received my greatest sympathy, and Kumar, the married youngster who was really affable and interesting in his own way. There were many others too, but these two were the main ones that stood out in my memories. I proved (or pretended) to be the earnest but luckless dimwit who could not achieve in any endeavour, the pitiful complaisant little bastard who got on well with everyone, or mostly anyone with authority. The others I simply pitied, because they were conscripts like me, unwilling slaves, or perhaps who had become uninformed converts to the system through the grindstone of the military tradition. Those who got on my wrong side would be treated with frustration, but I did no more, and I could not do more, because it would be incorrect of me. Our lives never should have crossed, and never should have offended each other, if not for the monstrous effect of the military. We, as humans, should have and would have complemented each other. I was confident of my beliefs. Unfortunately, the brute brunt might of coercive power will crush everything in its path. Such was power.
I could provide irrelevant but interesting anecdotes in this account, but for the sake of consistency to the theme, which was the depressing and unmitigated transformation of an individual and his thinking into something very pitiful, corrupt and malevolent, I will reserve my camp stories for another time. During my time in camp, I socialised a lot with the RPs and the clerks from HQ. I would spread my dissident and subversive ideas to them, the condemnation of the system, the dirt of the system, the injustice and incorrectness of the system. Everyday is cursed for me. I would wake up in the morning to find myself deprived of sleep because I could not sleep the night before, or because I was ruminating on the system. I would spit so often, mostly because of the disgust and anger at some sudden thought on the system. I would swear so often, even at hapless and innocent people, like the old lady who stank or the volunteer worker doing a fund drive. I had lost my ability to rationalise or be sensible. It was a sad time to be alive. I was an angry man. A sad and angry man. There were many times when I curse my impotency and question why I did not perish on that fateful day. There were many times when I wonder why I am even still alive, why I have to continue serving. I wonder why I serve, whom I serve, and why I do not have the courage to stop doing such an infernal thing! Perhaps that would be my real self manifesting. My mask would normally not ask such questions but invest and enjoy the clinical yield from tactical manoeuvring and system exploitation and abuse. I would not involve more with the system, and I enjoyed my status as the useless storeman who knew nothing and did nothing. However, I was to be sent for the storeman course. I would not learn and participate, but falling short of an outright rebellion, my mask sprang into action. I went for the course. A few days into it, I went to TTSH to declare depression. It was actually quite true, because I was seemingly at my wits’ end as to how to end this complicity with the system. Ironically, the answer was to be honest, something which totally escaped my mask, but still ultimately got to my attention. The doctor at TTSH was quite bewildered and cynical, but who was I to bother? I was the one who have learned to curse at tottering old ladies. He wondered what depression a storeman could have. I could have explained it to him, but it would have required 5 cups of coffee and a lot of logical work from his mind, not to mention an inordinate amount of time. Since I had none of those, the truth is best kept with me. Anyways, who can determine depression truly? Only the depressed knows. Only he, has the benefit of the doubt. He, he, and he alone. That is why the system is ineffective and wrong. I was to be dropped from my course, but I passed the theory and practical test on the last day. I even managed to fulfil the minimum attendance requirement. I had quite a lot of days of absence. I had the ability to judge which authority was exploitable and which would be better off avoiding.
Time really crawled in the military. In time, I was to be called for a FFI review. If I passed, I would head back to BMT. I did not wish to experience the same routine again, and my mind always panicked when there was an FFI. There was a real incentive to beat the system, and I was sure this incentive applied to everyone. It was a competition, with real advantages, without any immorality, but utter rationality. I had luck. I suffered an acute back pain, without really knowing the cause. I went to a TCM practitioner. She gave me 2 weeks of MC. I knew it would have been an invalid MC, but I used it anyway. It was bold of me, but I knew I had everything going for me as I had never been told of such an impropriety of visiting a TCMP, and I had a genuine problem, which could probably have been verified by the western practice. After my hiatus was up, I went to validate my MC at the MO. The MO was an extremely nice reservist who did not even look twice at it before stamping its validity. We even discussed a little about how silly conscription was. When I submitted my MC to the administration office, they informed me there was a problem, and possibly a gigantic problem. They told me that TCM MCs were not accepted. I knew then that I could play my way out of it, because I had it validated, and I did not know anything about such a policy. Furthermore, the admin staff were all good friends of mine. In the end, they accepted it, but in an underhand sort of way. That problem would ultimately cause a referral from the MO to the SAFTI physiotherapist, starting a long term relationship with colossal camp-cutting. I would normally schedule my appointments in the afternoon, picking prime Fridays, and other assorted days, and definitely afternoon. If the appointment was at 3, I would leave camp at 1, arrive there at 2:30ish, get some food, go in for probably 20 minutes, come out and go home, and to be free from authority. Initially, it would be as frequently as 3 appointments a week, but it slowly slowed to once a week, and it was good too because my officers were already watching my back because I was probably the most notorious slacker in camp, even if I did not openly reveal my exploits in exploitation. If I were given any task, I would take 2-3 times the time for other people to do it, and I had no qualms with staying back. My method would be to 1st, expend as little energy as possible in the task and 2nd, build on my earnest but luckless dimwit image. I had to be extremely professional in all my hidden agendas, and my extensive early training in school on professionalism and perfection proved really useful to me. However, I proved to be extremely competent in tasks which I find advantageous in doing, like despatch which the QM department had many of, and other out-of-camp businesses. Ultimately, my working method won me abstinence from delegation for onerous hard labour, and assignment of many despatch tasks, of most which I was allowed to exploit the system and earn many benefits, like going straight home after business, or spending an inordinate period out of camp. Thinking back now, life was really cheap and pathetic then. I am ashamed that I harboured such attitudes and committed such actions. I am such an asshole. Such feelings manifest itself often, especially now, after I am free from that evil institution, and I still do not know how to deal with them. But I am digressing, and the next chapter begins.
Post ID: 114699045595166093
Sunday, February 19, 2006
Something sent to me by rae Ume:
Part 2 of this tale of woe and despair has also been published!
I was enlisted on the 2nd of April. I was sent to Taurus Company in BMTC 2. It was a good sunny day. We had our heads shaved. We paid money for it! Paying money for something that we did not intend for sounds weird, but that is just the tip of the iceberg for what gives in this presumptuous State. The experience for me is rather routine for the conscript. Getting harassed and getting pushed around, getting the feel of submission and fear into familiarity. It was not novel for me, I have had such experience before; I coped well too then, because I wanted it and I embraced it. However now it was different for me, I was no longer impressionable and I simply cannot follow anything that someone wants me to. The concept of authority and the individual has developed in me, and when that has happened life's perceptions change a lot. The instrument of fear is highly effective in controlling a person, and how far can one person overcome fear? Especially not someone who has yet to see and experience much of life, and who has not the desired wisdom and resolve to handle fear, or life and death, like me. I did not really cope well with the system. In the beginning, I would question and grudge, but I did not actively pursue my opinions. That was for the first two weeks of BMT. Every night I would steel myself to resolutely and sincerely challenge affronts to my individuality, even though it would seemingly seem impossible to do so. And indeed, it would fail all the time, because I have to submit in the end for every action demanded of me. By the end of the 2nd week, I had decided to end this insincere lifestyle by coming clean with myself. I was not keen, nor brave enough for DB, and life then was exceedingly dishonourable and disappointing for me, so I decided to take the path of suicide.
It was just before going for swimming lesson. I had it all planned out actually almost a week before. I even had my suicide note in my drawer. I planned on jumping down from my block. My emotions then were quite uncontrolled. I was standing there motionless, and tears were streaming down my face, even though I did not want them to. Mostly when that happened I bent down on the ledge and covered my face with my forearms, to salvage my dignity. I suppose I was rather resolved on doing it, because I was thinking about so many things, and especially the people I love whom I was going to abandon. I kept questioning myself to see if there was no better path for me to take, and if this was indeed the best route, and the correct way to do it. Was there something missing? I had to be sure of my actions. When one consciously and soberly comes to the issue of death, one generally does not take it lightly. That so, I was hesitating, and waiting, contemplating of my action again and again, in this hurried circumstance, to betray no alternative that I could have taken. The hesitation was ineluctable, even though it would be better to have none of it. Someone reported to my superiors about this curious sight standing beside the ledge, and soon they were at my elbows. They were sympathetic and amiable, but they fail to see that this is already beyond them. My issue was with the system, not with these individuals, the executors of the system, men who are just like me, men who are victims in their capacity. What am I actually compared to them? They who never had the freedom of thought and the freedom, or courage and understanding, to pursue their beliefs in this period of physical and mental bondage? They have rallied in tough times, and I believe that deserves its own respect. My PC came to me and told me I could get out of this environment if I wanted to. That was the turning point for my impending suicide. I thought I could cheat the system somehow and still live the life that I believe, the life that I will die for. He led me to the counsellor's office and I was interviewed by this exceedingly detached man whom had not the slightest idea of my mentality. When he was asking me if I had trouble with the pull-up bar, I knew that confiding in him would be a very big error. It would be sedition! It seemed highly shallow to me that he was worrying if I could do pull-ups or not. I did not tell him anything in the end. I just told him I wanted to see the MO because I had a backache. Little did I know that the biggest screamer was going to come from the MO! Haha! I waited in the waiting room, staring at the wall in front of me and wondering if I should crack my head against it, as suddenly it seemed that my chances of cheating the system was evaporating. It seemed really real to me, the notion of cracking my head against the wall. I tested the sensation of it, by placing my head against it. It was really hard. But at that point I was not really bothered about pain. It was more about whether I should be doing it or not. The issue of pain scarcely factored for me at all. Mortifyingly, at that point of time the notion of splitting my head seemed delightfully gratifying for me. Anyway, I had already regained mastery of my faculties and I was very calm and like my usual self, which includes lots of cheeriness and sensitivity to my actions and my surroundings. I only found out later that being a master of oneself will penalise one during any medical examinations done for the purpose of the SAF. I was finally called to be interviewed by the MO, and I was nervous as to my demeanour, for I was still planning to examine the system somehow and I also wanted to do things in my usual way, which would involve mastery and professionalism of one's conduct and manner. In the end it was a compromise between the two. I acted depressed, which I was not, for I have been in full conscious knowledge of my person, and thus I did not act out depression so dramatically. I was quite alert and focused on the situation then. Having declared my suicidal tendencies, though not elaborately my reasons for doing so, I was sent outside again to wait. After waiting for about 2hrs, I finally saw my 3SG and he led me to the jetty! I was going to see some relief from this Tranquility Bay!
I was driven to IMH when we reached shore. I was assessed and the doctor gave me a choice: he asked if I wanted to be warded. I thought it would be a good idea, because I do not know what the alternative would be, and I thought it would give credibility to my perceived mental state. It was a bad choice. It was one of the worst experiences I have ever experienced. I felt like a fish, because my fellow crazies were empty in the head, and because I kept lapping the ward in circles, truly like a shark waiting for its repast. There were no books there to keep me company. There were lots of really insane people though, and I would never wish my worst enemy to be sentenced to the same place as I was. I walked barefeet. The floors were sticky and smelt of urine. I could not lie down on the floor if I was tired, though some of them were. The chairs were where I could find rest, but it was noisy, so I could not really rest at all. I saw the father of my friend there too, but that is another story. Anyway he told me he was the reincarnation of some biblical figure, which was mildly interesting, and that he may have Apocalypse all figured out. Probably soon, I do not really remember. We were not led out of the ward at all for the entire day. Our day starts and ends in the ward. It was around the size of 25-30 metres squared. The entrance to the ward was kept locked. The only sane people there were the nurses. I befriended one of them and he was a really nice Filipino. He seemed to realise that I was not mentally disturbed like the rest. All this while, I did not contact my parents. I thought I was not allowed to use the phone, and I also thought the SAF might have done it already. Anyway I borrowed the phone in the late afternoon, and my parents were shocked to find me there. The patients were all made to sleep at around 8pm. I requested to talk to the doctor on duty and want to be let out. He said that I was malingering. I felt like crying. Anyway I learned the nature of the game pretty well already by then. The only way for me to live is to surrender myself and submit entirely and sincerely. It was quite clear I was unwelcome alive if I persisted in my individualism.
I slept little in the night. I was extremely noisy. The nurse on duty was painfully frosty. The fan made it extremely chilly and the blanket and pillow was unconscionably smelly and disgusting. I did not use either of them and I was freezing basically. I did not sleep a wink. One guy kept walking past my bed and kneeling down at the end of the ward. I would have sworn he was possessed. He does not blink at all too. In the middle of the night some guy was led screaming from my ward to another ward, in a restraint bed. I borrowed paper from the nurse and began to write a note for the doctor. I stated that I was "sane and that I was foolish". "I believe in conscription wholeheartedly now. I was selfish and immature to begin with. I am totally reformed now." I completely sold myself out. The asylum does amazing things to the mind. I saw the doctor and he agreed to let me out. He also gave me a weeklong MC. When I went home I decided to use only 2 days of the MC and return to camp early. I wanted to live, and I realised there was only one way to live, and it was their way. When I was on the ferry terminal waiting for the ferry, I saw a SAF poster. I cannot remember now what it wrote, but I remember then that my heart broke and tears flowed from my eye, and I wonder whether I should have died after all on that fateful day.
Part 2 will come right up, but I have to sleep now because I have work tomorrow.
[Addendum:
seekok in the comments box: "THE ward has a lot of abuses due to the doctor there. There was a case where one of the medic molested a patient. The nurse briefed the medics on 'what actually happened' so that they can give a unified version of happenings to the investigators. The medics were told what to say line by line (e.g. the molester medic was at the computer, and the patient was in the room at certain time)
THe head doctor threatened to charge the accuser to make sure he 'spends the rest of NS in DB'.
FUrthermore, drugs are given and patients are not briefed on their right to refuse them or seek a second opinion. Drugs are often given out wrongly too. Someone was so drowsy he could not stay awake the entire morning. THe doctor threatened to punish him for not being able to stay awake which implied that the medicine he took was not suppose to be a sleeping pill. (and who gives sleeping pill in the morning anyway"
Part 2 of this tale of woe and despair has also been published!]
Part 2 of this tale of woe and despair has also been published!
I was enlisted on the 2nd of April. I was sent to Taurus Company in BMTC 2. It was a good sunny day. We had our heads shaved. We paid money for it! Paying money for something that we did not intend for sounds weird, but that is just the tip of the iceberg for what gives in this presumptuous State. The experience for me is rather routine for the conscript. Getting harassed and getting pushed around, getting the feel of submission and fear into familiarity. It was not novel for me, I have had such experience before; I coped well too then, because I wanted it and I embraced it. However now it was different for me, I was no longer impressionable and I simply cannot follow anything that someone wants me to. The concept of authority and the individual has developed in me, and when that has happened life's perceptions change a lot. The instrument of fear is highly effective in controlling a person, and how far can one person overcome fear? Especially not someone who has yet to see and experience much of life, and who has not the desired wisdom and resolve to handle fear, or life and death, like me. I did not really cope well with the system. In the beginning, I would question and grudge, but I did not actively pursue my opinions. That was for the first two weeks of BMT. Every night I would steel myself to resolutely and sincerely challenge affronts to my individuality, even though it would seemingly seem impossible to do so. And indeed, it would fail all the time, because I have to submit in the end for every action demanded of me. By the end of the 2nd week, I had decided to end this insincere lifestyle by coming clean with myself. I was not keen, nor brave enough for DB, and life then was exceedingly dishonourable and disappointing for me, so I decided to take the path of suicide.
It was just before going for swimming lesson. I had it all planned out actually almost a week before. I even had my suicide note in my drawer. I planned on jumping down from my block. My emotions then were quite uncontrolled. I was standing there motionless, and tears were streaming down my face, even though I did not want them to. Mostly when that happened I bent down on the ledge and covered my face with my forearms, to salvage my dignity. I suppose I was rather resolved on doing it, because I was thinking about so many things, and especially the people I love whom I was going to abandon. I kept questioning myself to see if there was no better path for me to take, and if this was indeed the best route, and the correct way to do it. Was there something missing? I had to be sure of my actions. When one consciously and soberly comes to the issue of death, one generally does not take it lightly. That so, I was hesitating, and waiting, contemplating of my action again and again, in this hurried circumstance, to betray no alternative that I could have taken. The hesitation was ineluctable, even though it would be better to have none of it. Someone reported to my superiors about this curious sight standing beside the ledge, and soon they were at my elbows. They were sympathetic and amiable, but they fail to see that this is already beyond them. My issue was with the system, not with these individuals, the executors of the system, men who are just like me, men who are victims in their capacity. What am I actually compared to them? They who never had the freedom of thought and the freedom, or courage and understanding, to pursue their beliefs in this period of physical and mental bondage? They have rallied in tough times, and I believe that deserves its own respect. My PC came to me and told me I could get out of this environment if I wanted to. That was the turning point for my impending suicide. I thought I could cheat the system somehow and still live the life that I believe, the life that I will die for. He led me to the counsellor's office and I was interviewed by this exceedingly detached man whom had not the slightest idea of my mentality. When he was asking me if I had trouble with the pull-up bar, I knew that confiding in him would be a very big error. It would be sedition! It seemed highly shallow to me that he was worrying if I could do pull-ups or not. I did not tell him anything in the end. I just told him I wanted to see the MO because I had a backache. Little did I know that the biggest screamer was going to come from the MO! Haha! I waited in the waiting room, staring at the wall in front of me and wondering if I should crack my head against it, as suddenly it seemed that my chances of cheating the system was evaporating. It seemed really real to me, the notion of cracking my head against the wall. I tested the sensation of it, by placing my head against it. It was really hard. But at that point I was not really bothered about pain. It was more about whether I should be doing it or not. The issue of pain scarcely factored for me at all. Mortifyingly, at that point of time the notion of splitting my head seemed delightfully gratifying for me. Anyway, I had already regained mastery of my faculties and I was very calm and like my usual self, which includes lots of cheeriness and sensitivity to my actions and my surroundings. I only found out later that being a master of oneself will penalise one during any medical examinations done for the purpose of the SAF. I was finally called to be interviewed by the MO, and I was nervous as to my demeanour, for I was still planning to examine the system somehow and I also wanted to do things in my usual way, which would involve mastery and professionalism of one's conduct and manner. In the end it was a compromise between the two. I acted depressed, which I was not, for I have been in full conscious knowledge of my person, and thus I did not act out depression so dramatically. I was quite alert and focused on the situation then. Having declared my suicidal tendencies, though not elaborately my reasons for doing so, I was sent outside again to wait. After waiting for about 2hrs, I finally saw my 3SG and he led me to the jetty! I was going to see some relief from this Tranquility Bay!
I was driven to IMH when we reached shore. I was assessed and the doctor gave me a choice: he asked if I wanted to be warded. I thought it would be a good idea, because I do not know what the alternative would be, and I thought it would give credibility to my perceived mental state. It was a bad choice. It was one of the worst experiences I have ever experienced. I felt like a fish, because my fellow crazies were empty in the head, and because I kept lapping the ward in circles, truly like a shark waiting for its repast. There were no books there to keep me company. There were lots of really insane people though, and I would never wish my worst enemy to be sentenced to the same place as I was. I walked barefeet. The floors were sticky and smelt of urine. I could not lie down on the floor if I was tired, though some of them were. The chairs were where I could find rest, but it was noisy, so I could not really rest at all. I saw the father of my friend there too, but that is another story. Anyway he told me he was the reincarnation of some biblical figure, which was mildly interesting, and that he may have Apocalypse all figured out. Probably soon, I do not really remember. We were not led out of the ward at all for the entire day. Our day starts and ends in the ward. It was around the size of 25-30 metres squared. The entrance to the ward was kept locked. The only sane people there were the nurses. I befriended one of them and he was a really nice Filipino. He seemed to realise that I was not mentally disturbed like the rest. All this while, I did not contact my parents. I thought I was not allowed to use the phone, and I also thought the SAF might have done it already. Anyway I borrowed the phone in the late afternoon, and my parents were shocked to find me there. The patients were all made to sleep at around 8pm. I requested to talk to the doctor on duty and want to be let out. He said that I was malingering. I felt like crying. Anyway I learned the nature of the game pretty well already by then. The only way for me to live is to surrender myself and submit entirely and sincerely. It was quite clear I was unwelcome alive if I persisted in my individualism.
I slept little in the night. I was extremely noisy. The nurse on duty was painfully frosty. The fan made it extremely chilly and the blanket and pillow was unconscionably smelly and disgusting. I did not use either of them and I was freezing basically. I did not sleep a wink. One guy kept walking past my bed and kneeling down at the end of the ward. I would have sworn he was possessed. He does not blink at all too. In the middle of the night some guy was led screaming from my ward to another ward, in a restraint bed. I borrowed paper from the nurse and began to write a note for the doctor. I stated that I was "sane and that I was foolish". "I believe in conscription wholeheartedly now. I was selfish and immature to begin with. I am totally reformed now." I completely sold myself out. The asylum does amazing things to the mind. I saw the doctor and he agreed to let me out. He also gave me a weeklong MC. When I went home I decided to use only 2 days of the MC and return to camp early. I wanted to live, and I realised there was only one way to live, and it was their way. When I was on the ferry terminal waiting for the ferry, I saw a SAF poster. I cannot remember now what it wrote, but I remember then that my heart broke and tears flowed from my eye, and I wonder whether I should have died after all on that fateful day.
Part 2 will come right up, but I have to sleep now because I have work tomorrow.
[Addendum:
seekok in the comments box: "THE ward has a lot of abuses due to the doctor there. There was a case where one of the medic molested a patient. The nurse briefed the medics on 'what actually happened' so that they can give a unified version of happenings to the investigators. The medics were told what to say line by line (e.g. the molester medic was at the computer, and the patient was in the room at certain time)
THe head doctor threatened to charge the accuser to make sure he 'spends the rest of NS in DB'.
FUrthermore, drugs are given and patients are not briefed on their right to refuse them or seek a second opinion. Drugs are often given out wrongly too. Someone was so drowsy he could not stay awake the entire morning. THe doctor threatened to punish him for not being able to stay awake which implied that the medicine he took was not suppose to be a sleeping pill. (and who gives sleeping pill in the morning anyway"
Part 2 of this tale of woe and despair has also been published!]
Post ID: 114034405882484300
Friday, November 18, 2005
I really really didn't want to post any more about this topic; flame me for it if you want - I would love to come out to play with everyone, but I still have unfinished affairs with the twin IS and LM curves, Robinson Crusoe and his coconuts, Eliade and his drug-induced eerie green glow, Buss and his numerous examples of inter-gender interaction and last but not least, Time fixed-effects models, but someone took a great deal of time to write a thoughtful and heartfelt 3,807 word open letter to her which I felt touched on the crux of the issue (including some aspects ignored or merely alluded to by most). The fact that I'm publishing a letter in which religion figures prominently, despite my known and evident distaste of it, should tell you something.
Besides which, the New Paper followup was really sucky.
(I must add, though, that if anyone else feels to urge to write another thoughtful, heartfelt letter to her, PLEASE do not send it to me. Thank you!)
And in yet another vainglorious attempt to forestall silly comments which address points already made/answered in the body of the post: my posting of this open letter does not constitute an endorsement of all the points of view put forward in it.
With that, I wish everyone happy hunting (of me, of course - someone else has had more than her fair share of it):
Let's be *special* together. *Spicy games* are always fun.
Dear Dawn,
I understand that you are going through an extremely rough period right now and I feel very sorry for you. To speak the truth, I do pray for your spirits to be lifted as my heart goes out to you. I know you must be feeling very upset right now. However, I can't help but feel that you do somehow deserve your situation right now, and should bear the responsibility of the outcome today. This is because you have committed 5 sins that most of us find it extremely hard to forgive, even for a nice christian lady like me.
1) You threw away the identity God and your parents have given you.
Everyone is special and unique in their own ways. The set of features you are born with is God's gift to you (I expect you know this since you are such a devoted Christian). However, we have to admit that plastic surgery has become a part of the 21st century with the advancement in science and technology. There is no fault in undergoing plastic surgery, in fact, plastic surgery has done a lot of good to people who are born with defects (cleft lip) or who met with unfortunate accidents (caught in a fire). It has also served its purpose of enhancing one's appearance so as to boost one's confidence in life. However, what you did was far more than that. In fact, it is too much to be acceptable. Why do I say so?
What you did was not a simple double eye lid surgery nor a minor nose job. You changed your entire face, and what we absolutely cannot accept - your heritage, as well. Many korean stars have had surgery done but why do we still love and support them? But remember Dawn, you are different. What you did was more than just plastic surgery. Let me raise two analogies. Look at Michael Jackson. Yes, he did plastic surgery. And he turned from a black man, to a white man. He changed his race. Look at Harisu. Yes, she did plastic surgery. And she turned from a man, to a woman. She changed her gender. This is the extent of your surgery. Look at Dawn Yeo. Yes, she did plastic surgery. And she turned from a pure chinese girl, to a whole new different Dutch - Thai girl. To a girl with an entire different face and ethnicity, that her friends from the past couldn't even recognise the least bit!
Dawn, you abandoned your heritage and your ethnicity. This, we cannot accept. You may be disatisfied with the looks the "Big Guy up in the heavens" has blessed you with. But how can you turn away the ethnicity and identity God has given you? You speak like a devoted Christian woman, but you actually did such a hurtful thing to betray your beliefs. This we cannot forgive. You not only changed your face, you changed your roots. The difference here is enhancing one's feature and changing one's identity. You did the latter.
At the very least, Michael Jackson and Harisu are at peace with their decision transform God's gift and are able to come to terms with it by not hiding it. They are able to face the world bravely and are responsible for their decision. Another example would be our very own local celebrity, Quan Yifeng. People were discussing about her having had a nose bridge surgery recently (small surgery compared to yours). But did she deny it? No. Go buy a copy of this week's 8 days and you would know. She not only admitted to it but even told everyone that she had lots of botox done and even revealed that she had it done in taiwan and have since reversed the surgery. She even allowed the press to take photos of her without make up on. And the result of it? She gained, not negative responses (like you did), but instead, people applauded her for her honesty and candidness. She did not treat it as a disgraceful act and admitted it graciously. Naturally, people wouldn't see it as a disgraceful act too. Instead, they admire her for her honesty.
But you? Not only are you too cowardly to face up to it, you accused people of defaming you, denied it and refused to be responsible for your decision. Why do you not dare to admit it? Is it because, deep down inside, you know that it was wrong of you to do so? If you see no wrong in what you did, why not have the courage to come out and proclaim, "Yes, I, Dawn Yeo has had plastic surgery done."
2) You exploited the sympathy of the public
You wrote such a admirable and touching entry on how people have accused you of being a rich spoilt brat. You said you came from a "SINGLE INCOME FAMILY". But we came to realise from the Newpaper that Lo and Behold, that's only because your father "RETIRED", not RETRENCHED. There's a huge difference between the two you realised? Being able to retire is a cause for joy because one can finally enjoy the later part of his life after working so hard. However, being retrenched is not a choice and leads to one's financial problems. Do you know the troubles and problems that comes with being retrenched? Do you know how many people out there are being retrenched and have trouble even making ends meet? And there you are, blessed with such a wealthy family and your father having the priviledge to RETIRE because even without his source of income, your family have enough money to spend for the rest of your lives. Do you know that your family is so rich that even without you father working, your family is able to live so comfortably? Do you know how blessed you are? Yet, you make yourself sound so pitiful by calling your family a SINGLE INCOME FAMILY. yes, technically speaking, you are not wrong. Your family is indeed a single income one. And like you said, and quoted from you yourself. It's all about WORD PLAY. You are the master of the art of WORD PLAY. You twisted the words such that a priviledge becomes such a cause for sympathy.
You said, once again, quoted from you yourself, "I don't even live in a detached house." Once again, your outright lie is exposed in the Newpaper. Not only do you live in a DETACHED HOUSE, you live in a BUKIT TIMAH SEMI DETACHED HOUSE. tell me, how is that a symbol of being just a upper MIDDLE-CLASS? I admit to feeling a bout of anger towards you right now simply because, you do not know how to appreciate the gifts God has bestowed upon you. If living in a BUKIT TIMAH SEMI DETACHED HOUSE is considered middle-class, are you calling all those people who live in HDBs, the LOWER CLASS? then what about those who are unable to even pay their monthly rent for a 3-room flat? what do you call this people? How could you not see and treasure the wealth God has blessed you with? Dawn, I am extremely disappointed with your inability to appreciate, treasure, or even recognise the blessings you have received. Must you experience poverty before you realise that the BUKIT TIMAH DETACHED HOUSE you live so comfortably in, is something that not half the population can afford? how can you call it MIDDLE-CLASS? I fail to forgive you for your unappreciation and decadence towards God's gifts.
Next, you portrayed yourself as such a fillial daughter who cares for the purse strings of your parents so much. At that point of time, when I read that you said, "Do you know how EXPENSIVE it is to study abroad? I feel guilty just even thinking about the sums." and "I hate asking for more money from my parents." I felt such strong admiration for you. But having known that you did such extensive surgery, I can't help feeling that you are such a hypocrite. Do you know how much rhinoplasty cost? At the very least $10,000 (nose tip and bridge). Double eyelid surgery, at the very least $6000. All the other surgeries you did to enlarge your eyes, change your face shape, even your body assets, lips, all those would have amounted well over $50,000. Dawn, didn't you feel "guilty" when your parents paid that hefty sum for you? Did you really "hated" yourself when you ask for those money from your parents? If you really hate to spend your parents money so much, why let them spend such a huge amount of money to change the face and body they have given to you? Is that what the fillial daughter you have portrayed yourself to be, supposed to do? I don't think so.
3) You lied.
Once again, it is all about word play. Yes, to be fair to you, you never once said outright, "NO I DID NOT HAVE PLASTIC SURGERY DONE." But dawn, remember you posted about those grievances that you suffered when people "ACCUSED" you of going surgery? using the word 'accused', and making yourself sound so wronged is as good as saying that it is untrue. when the reporter questioned you about people talking about you doing plastic surgery, you didn't deny it because you knew that you did. so you did the next best thing. in your very own words, you said that "and yea true...people also accuse me of having surgery...." (quoted from your blog) and said, "what can i do about it?", indirectly but effectively meaning that those are just untrue gossips and you are the wronged victim being 'accused'. Please Dawn, stop making yourself sound victimised because not once were you wronged at all. Everything that was said about you were facts and you wronged others for magligning you.
I guess you probably remember typing this in defense of someone pointing out that she saw the "cut lines" and "surgery scars" above your eyes. Your response was "another thing, sorry to burst your bubble but lemme be helpful n share a makeup secret: u can use brown eyeshadow to accentuate the crease of your eyelid making it look deeper. when u look down, it’ll obviously look like there’s a slight line. take a look at the angelina jolie pic i had, don’t her eyes look even more “cut”? haha cmon its just simple makeup sheesh!" this can be seen here - http://unionpost.org/?p=47. After which, the poor girl who was telling the truth all the while was scolded viciously by your supporters who believed your words and told her off for wrongly accusing you. Tell me, have you ever felt guilty when you see someone being scolded for magligning you when all she did was told the truth, while on the other hand, you LIED? can you touch your heart and tell me that calling those surgery scars a "makeup secret" does not count as DENYING that you had plastic surgery? you talk about WORD PLAY indeed, you know it so well because you have practised it so often.
4) You brought it upon yourself.
Dawn, you realised that 3 years after you had your surgery, not one of your friends or acquaintances came out to talk about it or expose you with words and pictures? Why is it happening now? that's because you thrust yourself into the limelight and knowing that you got it with underhand means (using money in exchange for fame), their integrity spured them to reveal the truth. If you argue that having done plastic surgery is your private life and no one should have any right in breaking into your privacy, then you should have jolly well kept your life PRIVATE! but no, you chose to make yourself a public figure. You gave the public the right to scrutinise your life, and your past. This was a choice that you chose to take, and now that it has brought upon the consequences, you only have yourself to blame.
Let me give you a real life example. I used to have a classmate who was extremely beautiful. She was so pretty that most people in school would notice her. However, she kept a low profile and never did anything to attract attention. She only hung out with her close friends and mixed with her classmates. She never tried seeking popularity and instead, avoided it. She was nominated as Prom Queen but she turned it down. She was approached by Carrie Models and Phantom Agency but she declined. She was asked to participate in Miss Singapore Universe but she refused. She never wanted to be under the limelight. Later, we realised that she has not always been pretty. Yes, you are right. She had plastic surgery done, thus, the beauty. But she only did minor surgeries, if i'm not wrong just a low double eyelid and a slight nose bridge enhancement. But when the secret was out, did anybody care? No. When people heard, they took a few seconds to remember who she was and only said "oh, is it?" in response and never talked much about it. Why? Because she was always a low profile, private figure. People hardly know about her so what was there to talk about?
By attracting so much attention to yourself, Dawn, you made the mistake of allowing people to expose you. As a public figure, you have to answer to the public. Let me cite an example. Recently, Jay Chou had to apologise to the public for sticking his middle finger at the papparazi. He might not have been in the wrong, but why did he have to apologise? He had to apologise to the public because as a public figure, he set the wrong example to the public, he was ANSWERABLE to the public. He wasn't apologising to the papparazi, but to members of the public. That's the responsibility of being an artiste, Dawn. You have to learn to accept that.
A piece of advice to you. If you wish for this to tide over, your best choice is to remove yourself from the limelight. If you stop attracting the attention of the public and live a private life, no one would have the access into your deepest secrets. People will eventually stop talking about you. However, if you continue on with this or venture further, there will only be more people discussing about your darkest secrets. It might not even be confined into just Singapore anymore. It will spread to Taiwan, Hong Kong, China, whatever country you go to. When you become a public figure in those countries, you may not only see your 'before' and 'after' pictures in singapore, those unglamorous pictures might even make its way onto the covers of Taiwan's entertainment tabloid or Hong Kong papparazi news.
Even minor surgeries are being made as headlines by the unfeeling papparazi in those countries, what more major extensive surgery like yours? you are considered sheltered in Singapore. At least you haven't appeared on the newspapers and magazines yet. If you do not want a day like that to happen, don't give the reporters the need to bother about your secrets. How? Don't make yourself a concern of theirs. Be a private figure, living a private life with loved ones who can accept you. The papparazi in Taiwan, Hong Kong and China would be going "Dawn who?" when people reveal your secret to them. Because you would just be a normal Singaporean and they wouldn't care less about whether you had surgery done. This is your only way to protect yourself. If you still choose to be a public figure, in Singapore and in other countries, then you choose to subject yourself to people knowing your secrets on your own accord.
5) You cheated the feelings of your supporters, Tinsel Management, admirers and fans.
All those people who looked up to you, admired you, supported you, signed you up and gave you opportunities for your looks. You cheated them. Tinsel Management looked at your photos, felt you were beyond beautiful, decided to groom you. You had no special talents nor even the outgoing personality that an artiste should have. They felt that you are a "INTROVERT", "ORDINARY" and needed alot of "HONING AND POLISHING". meaning, it wasn't your personality, character or talents that attracted them, it was your "EXTRAORDINARY" face. Is it fair to them? You bought the "EXTRAORDINARY" face with money. By signing you up, Tinsel Management is sending out a message that says, "If you want to be a star, BUY your dreams with money. Go and sell your body or hope that you have rich parents, so that you would have money to BUY yourself a beautiful face. Better still, make yourself look like a DUTCH and THAI. It doesn't matter if you can't sing, act, dance or have any talents. It doesn't even matter if you are shy and have no personality. As long as you have money, go and change the face God and your parents have given you. Then, we would make your dreams come true and groom you into a star!"
Tinsel Management, I do not think it is a morally correct message to be sending out to the young minds out there. As an established and reputable agency, this is not a stand that you should take. Please reconsider your decision.
And Dawn, not only did you cheat Tinsel Management, you cheated those people who supported you so strongly. Do you know I have a 15- year old cousin. She is one of the reason I decided to write this letter to you. She was once a avid supporter of yours. She idolised you. She stood up for you. She defended you. When people accused you of having done plastic surgery, she chose to believe you. She even posted defending messages such as "Do not accuse Dawn. You are all just jealous. She looks so gorgeous because she is mixed Dutch and Thai like she said! Stop magligning her!" I believe I can still find such messages left by her and your other supporters on the internet. How do you feel about deceiving those people who supported you and believed in you? How do you feel about making them go all the way defending you and now, people are telling them to go EAT THEIR WORDS. Do you know that my cousin defended you when her friends insisted that you definitely had surgery done and now that the secret is out, they are all MOCKING her and LAUGHING at her for being so gullible and STUPID? she is the center of jokes among her friends now and is teased constantly about it. But what hurts her the most is not having to eat her words, but it's because she feels cheated by you. She trusted you, she supported you, she defended you, she stood up for you, she believed you. But now? she is proven to be wrong and yet you do not even have the courage to admit your mistake and to apologise to those who supported you. You know what the 15 year old girl said that struck a chord in me? She said, "I'm not angry with Dawn, I'm just disappointed with her..."
Dawn, this issue is no longer about yourself. You have pulled others down into the water along with you. Many people have been implicated and they may be hurt too. This people are friends of yours and those you care about. People like your best friends, Grace and Candice. Because of you, their faces are being analysed and scrutinised too. Their secrets may be revealed and publicised too. All because of you. You implicated them and they may be hurt because of you. If you want to protect the secrets of your friends, if you truly care about them, please do something about it. Admit your mistake, apologise for it, pull yourself out from the public eye. This is the least you can do for them. And your poor sister, she does not even have a choice of doing even the least bit of enhancement to her features in future because everyone will be watching her transformation from now on. People will be talking about your dear mother having possibly done surgery too since she willingly and generously allowed you to do it. And even your boyfriend. They will laugh and mock him for having a man-made, manufactured, carefully carved-out girlfriend.
Now, when people hear the name DAWN YEO, they will no longer see the image of that beautiful, big-eyed, slim-faced, sharp nose, lovely Dawn. The image that comes into everyone's mind is those 'Before' pictures that is circulating around. And trust me, they aren't very flattering pictures, not a very pretty image in our mind at all. Please look into your conscience, Dawn. Imagine if you are a man, one day, your wife comes clean with you and tells you, "Dear, I was actually a male before I met you. Please forgive me for not telling you." Imagine how the man would feel. Cheated, most definitely. That's what you did to us. I don't know if your boyfriend knows about your surgery and how you looked before. If he didn't know about it before this, I think you have much apologising to do to him because his feelings are those that you exploited most.
I may be angry at you for the above 5 wrongs that you did, but a part of me feels sorry for you too and I sincerely hope you would change for the better. A first step would be to admit what you previously denied, then apologise, then live a private life. Hopefully, the public would grant you your wish for privacy then, if you show that you have shown remorse and treasure the many gifts you are blessed with. Respect your own privacy (stop thrusting yourself under the public eye), and people would respect your privacy too.
And one last thing that I am extremely displeased with you about. Please do not say this: "If people want to continue to crucify me go ahead and crucify me." (quoted from your blog). If you insist on saying that you are being 'CRUCIFIED', just remember, Jesus was crucified because he did great things, you are 'crucified' because you did wrong things.
Please stop accusing your 'fellow humans' of being 'frightful' and making yourself sound so victimised, because the above 5 sins that you did fully shows that you are the one who has wronged. Repent and seek for forgiveness is what you should do. I will pray for you. Hopefully, this will tide over soon. May God bless you.
Love,
a fellow human.
[Ed: In case it wasn't clear enough, this letter was not written by me.]
Besides which, the New Paper followup was really sucky.
(I must add, though, that if anyone else feels to urge to write another thoughtful, heartfelt letter to her, PLEASE do not send it to me. Thank you!)
And in yet another vainglorious attempt to forestall silly comments which address points already made/answered in the body of the post: my posting of this open letter does not constitute an endorsement of all the points of view put forward in it.
With that, I wish everyone happy hunting (of me, of course - someone else has had more than her fair share of it):
Let's be *special* together. *Spicy games* are always fun.
Dear Dawn,
I understand that you are going through an extremely rough period right now and I feel very sorry for you. To speak the truth, I do pray for your spirits to be lifted as my heart goes out to you. I know you must be feeling very upset right now. However, I can't help but feel that you do somehow deserve your situation right now, and should bear the responsibility of the outcome today. This is because you have committed 5 sins that most of us find it extremely hard to forgive, even for a nice christian lady like me.
1) You threw away the identity God and your parents have given you.
Everyone is special and unique in their own ways. The set of features you are born with is God's gift to you (I expect you know this since you are such a devoted Christian). However, we have to admit that plastic surgery has become a part of the 21st century with the advancement in science and technology. There is no fault in undergoing plastic surgery, in fact, plastic surgery has done a lot of good to people who are born with defects (cleft lip) or who met with unfortunate accidents (caught in a fire). It has also served its purpose of enhancing one's appearance so as to boost one's confidence in life. However, what you did was far more than that. In fact, it is too much to be acceptable. Why do I say so?
What you did was not a simple double eye lid surgery nor a minor nose job. You changed your entire face, and what we absolutely cannot accept - your heritage, as well. Many korean stars have had surgery done but why do we still love and support them? But remember Dawn, you are different. What you did was more than just plastic surgery. Let me raise two analogies. Look at Michael Jackson. Yes, he did plastic surgery. And he turned from a black man, to a white man. He changed his race. Look at Harisu. Yes, she did plastic surgery. And she turned from a man, to a woman. She changed her gender. This is the extent of your surgery. Look at Dawn Yeo. Yes, she did plastic surgery. And she turned from a pure chinese girl, to a whole new different Dutch - Thai girl. To a girl with an entire different face and ethnicity, that her friends from the past couldn't even recognise the least bit!
Dawn, you abandoned your heritage and your ethnicity. This, we cannot accept. You may be disatisfied with the looks the "Big Guy up in the heavens" has blessed you with. But how can you turn away the ethnicity and identity God has given you? You speak like a devoted Christian woman, but you actually did such a hurtful thing to betray your beliefs. This we cannot forgive. You not only changed your face, you changed your roots. The difference here is enhancing one's feature and changing one's identity. You did the latter.
At the very least, Michael Jackson and Harisu are at peace with their decision transform God's gift and are able to come to terms with it by not hiding it. They are able to face the world bravely and are responsible for their decision. Another example would be our very own local celebrity, Quan Yifeng. People were discussing about her having had a nose bridge surgery recently (small surgery compared to yours). But did she deny it? No. Go buy a copy of this week's 8 days and you would know. She not only admitted to it but even told everyone that she had lots of botox done and even revealed that she had it done in taiwan and have since reversed the surgery. She even allowed the press to take photos of her without make up on. And the result of it? She gained, not negative responses (like you did), but instead, people applauded her for her honesty and candidness. She did not treat it as a disgraceful act and admitted it graciously. Naturally, people wouldn't see it as a disgraceful act too. Instead, they admire her for her honesty.
But you? Not only are you too cowardly to face up to it, you accused people of defaming you, denied it and refused to be responsible for your decision. Why do you not dare to admit it? Is it because, deep down inside, you know that it was wrong of you to do so? If you see no wrong in what you did, why not have the courage to come out and proclaim, "Yes, I, Dawn Yeo has had plastic surgery done."
2) You exploited the sympathy of the public
You wrote such a admirable and touching entry on how people have accused you of being a rich spoilt brat. You said you came from a "SINGLE INCOME FAMILY". But we came to realise from the Newpaper that Lo and Behold, that's only because your father "RETIRED", not RETRENCHED. There's a huge difference between the two you realised? Being able to retire is a cause for joy because one can finally enjoy the later part of his life after working so hard. However, being retrenched is not a choice and leads to one's financial problems. Do you know the troubles and problems that comes with being retrenched? Do you know how many people out there are being retrenched and have trouble even making ends meet? And there you are, blessed with such a wealthy family and your father having the priviledge to RETIRE because even without his source of income, your family have enough money to spend for the rest of your lives. Do you know that your family is so rich that even without you father working, your family is able to live so comfortably? Do you know how blessed you are? Yet, you make yourself sound so pitiful by calling your family a SINGLE INCOME FAMILY. yes, technically speaking, you are not wrong. Your family is indeed a single income one. And like you said, and quoted from you yourself. It's all about WORD PLAY. You are the master of the art of WORD PLAY. You twisted the words such that a priviledge becomes such a cause for sympathy.
You said, once again, quoted from you yourself, "I don't even live in a detached house." Once again, your outright lie is exposed in the Newpaper. Not only do you live in a DETACHED HOUSE, you live in a BUKIT TIMAH SEMI DETACHED HOUSE. tell me, how is that a symbol of being just a upper MIDDLE-CLASS? I admit to feeling a bout of anger towards you right now simply because, you do not know how to appreciate the gifts God has bestowed upon you. If living in a BUKIT TIMAH SEMI DETACHED HOUSE is considered middle-class, are you calling all those people who live in HDBs, the LOWER CLASS? then what about those who are unable to even pay their monthly rent for a 3-room flat? what do you call this people? How could you not see and treasure the wealth God has blessed you with? Dawn, I am extremely disappointed with your inability to appreciate, treasure, or even recognise the blessings you have received. Must you experience poverty before you realise that the BUKIT TIMAH DETACHED HOUSE you live so comfortably in, is something that not half the population can afford? how can you call it MIDDLE-CLASS? I fail to forgive you for your unappreciation and decadence towards God's gifts.
Next, you portrayed yourself as such a fillial daughter who cares for the purse strings of your parents so much. At that point of time, when I read that you said, "Do you know how EXPENSIVE it is to study abroad? I feel guilty just even thinking about the sums." and "I hate asking for more money from my parents." I felt such strong admiration for you. But having known that you did such extensive surgery, I can't help feeling that you are such a hypocrite. Do you know how much rhinoplasty cost? At the very least $10,000 (nose tip and bridge). Double eyelid surgery, at the very least $6000. All the other surgeries you did to enlarge your eyes, change your face shape, even your body assets, lips, all those would have amounted well over $50,000. Dawn, didn't you feel "guilty" when your parents paid that hefty sum for you? Did you really "hated" yourself when you ask for those money from your parents? If you really hate to spend your parents money so much, why let them spend such a huge amount of money to change the face and body they have given to you? Is that what the fillial daughter you have portrayed yourself to be, supposed to do? I don't think so.
3) You lied.
Once again, it is all about word play. Yes, to be fair to you, you never once said outright, "NO I DID NOT HAVE PLASTIC SURGERY DONE." But dawn, remember you posted about those grievances that you suffered when people "ACCUSED" you of going surgery? using the word 'accused', and making yourself sound so wronged is as good as saying that it is untrue. when the reporter questioned you about people talking about you doing plastic surgery, you didn't deny it because you knew that you did. so you did the next best thing. in your very own words, you said that "and yea true...people also accuse me of having surgery...." (quoted from your blog) and said, "what can i do about it?", indirectly but effectively meaning that those are just untrue gossips and you are the wronged victim being 'accused'. Please Dawn, stop making yourself sound victimised because not once were you wronged at all. Everything that was said about you were facts and you wronged others for magligning you.
I guess you probably remember typing this in defense of someone pointing out that she saw the "cut lines" and "surgery scars" above your eyes. Your response was "another thing, sorry to burst your bubble but lemme be helpful n share a makeup secret: u can use brown eyeshadow to accentuate the crease of your eyelid making it look deeper. when u look down, it’ll obviously look like there’s a slight line. take a look at the angelina jolie pic i had, don’t her eyes look even more “cut”? haha cmon its just simple makeup sheesh!" this can be seen here - http://unionpost.org/?p=47. After which, the poor girl who was telling the truth all the while was scolded viciously by your supporters who believed your words and told her off for wrongly accusing you. Tell me, have you ever felt guilty when you see someone being scolded for magligning you when all she did was told the truth, while on the other hand, you LIED? can you touch your heart and tell me that calling those surgery scars a "makeup secret" does not count as DENYING that you had plastic surgery? you talk about WORD PLAY indeed, you know it so well because you have practised it so often.
4) You brought it upon yourself.
Dawn, you realised that 3 years after you had your surgery, not one of your friends or acquaintances came out to talk about it or expose you with words and pictures? Why is it happening now? that's because you thrust yourself into the limelight and knowing that you got it with underhand means (using money in exchange for fame), their integrity spured them to reveal the truth. If you argue that having done plastic surgery is your private life and no one should have any right in breaking into your privacy, then you should have jolly well kept your life PRIVATE! but no, you chose to make yourself a public figure. You gave the public the right to scrutinise your life, and your past. This was a choice that you chose to take, and now that it has brought upon the consequences, you only have yourself to blame.
Let me give you a real life example. I used to have a classmate who was extremely beautiful. She was so pretty that most people in school would notice her. However, she kept a low profile and never did anything to attract attention. She only hung out with her close friends and mixed with her classmates. She never tried seeking popularity and instead, avoided it. She was nominated as Prom Queen but she turned it down. She was approached by Carrie Models and Phantom Agency but she declined. She was asked to participate in Miss Singapore Universe but she refused. She never wanted to be under the limelight. Later, we realised that she has not always been pretty. Yes, you are right. She had plastic surgery done, thus, the beauty. But she only did minor surgeries, if i'm not wrong just a low double eyelid and a slight nose bridge enhancement. But when the secret was out, did anybody care? No. When people heard, they took a few seconds to remember who she was and only said "oh, is it?" in response and never talked much about it. Why? Because she was always a low profile, private figure. People hardly know about her so what was there to talk about?
By attracting so much attention to yourself, Dawn, you made the mistake of allowing people to expose you. As a public figure, you have to answer to the public. Let me cite an example. Recently, Jay Chou had to apologise to the public for sticking his middle finger at the papparazi. He might not have been in the wrong, but why did he have to apologise? He had to apologise to the public because as a public figure, he set the wrong example to the public, he was ANSWERABLE to the public. He wasn't apologising to the papparazi, but to members of the public. That's the responsibility of being an artiste, Dawn. You have to learn to accept that.
A piece of advice to you. If you wish for this to tide over, your best choice is to remove yourself from the limelight. If you stop attracting the attention of the public and live a private life, no one would have the access into your deepest secrets. People will eventually stop talking about you. However, if you continue on with this or venture further, there will only be more people discussing about your darkest secrets. It might not even be confined into just Singapore anymore. It will spread to Taiwan, Hong Kong, China, whatever country you go to. When you become a public figure in those countries, you may not only see your 'before' and 'after' pictures in singapore, those unglamorous pictures might even make its way onto the covers of Taiwan's entertainment tabloid or Hong Kong papparazi news.
Even minor surgeries are being made as headlines by the unfeeling papparazi in those countries, what more major extensive surgery like yours? you are considered sheltered in Singapore. At least you haven't appeared on the newspapers and magazines yet. If you do not want a day like that to happen, don't give the reporters the need to bother about your secrets. How? Don't make yourself a concern of theirs. Be a private figure, living a private life with loved ones who can accept you. The papparazi in Taiwan, Hong Kong and China would be going "Dawn who?" when people reveal your secret to them. Because you would just be a normal Singaporean and they wouldn't care less about whether you had surgery done. This is your only way to protect yourself. If you still choose to be a public figure, in Singapore and in other countries, then you choose to subject yourself to people knowing your secrets on your own accord.
5) You cheated the feelings of your supporters, Tinsel Management, admirers and fans.
All those people who looked up to you, admired you, supported you, signed you up and gave you opportunities for your looks. You cheated them. Tinsel Management looked at your photos, felt you were beyond beautiful, decided to groom you. You had no special talents nor even the outgoing personality that an artiste should have. They felt that you are a "INTROVERT", "ORDINARY" and needed alot of "HONING AND POLISHING". meaning, it wasn't your personality, character or talents that attracted them, it was your "EXTRAORDINARY" face. Is it fair to them? You bought the "EXTRAORDINARY" face with money. By signing you up, Tinsel Management is sending out a message that says, "If you want to be a star, BUY your dreams with money. Go and sell your body or hope that you have rich parents, so that you would have money to BUY yourself a beautiful face. Better still, make yourself look like a DUTCH and THAI. It doesn't matter if you can't sing, act, dance or have any talents. It doesn't even matter if you are shy and have no personality. As long as you have money, go and change the face God and your parents have given you. Then, we would make your dreams come true and groom you into a star!"
Tinsel Management, I do not think it is a morally correct message to be sending out to the young minds out there. As an established and reputable agency, this is not a stand that you should take. Please reconsider your decision.
And Dawn, not only did you cheat Tinsel Management, you cheated those people who supported you so strongly. Do you know I have a 15- year old cousin. She is one of the reason I decided to write this letter to you. She was once a avid supporter of yours. She idolised you. She stood up for you. She defended you. When people accused you of having done plastic surgery, she chose to believe you. She even posted defending messages such as "Do not accuse Dawn. You are all just jealous. She looks so gorgeous because she is mixed Dutch and Thai like she said! Stop magligning her!" I believe I can still find such messages left by her and your other supporters on the internet. How do you feel about deceiving those people who supported you and believed in you? How do you feel about making them go all the way defending you and now, people are telling them to go EAT THEIR WORDS. Do you know that my cousin defended you when her friends insisted that you definitely had surgery done and now that the secret is out, they are all MOCKING her and LAUGHING at her for being so gullible and STUPID? she is the center of jokes among her friends now and is teased constantly about it. But what hurts her the most is not having to eat her words, but it's because she feels cheated by you. She trusted you, she supported you, she defended you, she stood up for you, she believed you. But now? she is proven to be wrong and yet you do not even have the courage to admit your mistake and to apologise to those who supported you. You know what the 15 year old girl said that struck a chord in me? She said, "I'm not angry with Dawn, I'm just disappointed with her..."
Dawn, this issue is no longer about yourself. You have pulled others down into the water along with you. Many people have been implicated and they may be hurt too. This people are friends of yours and those you care about. People like your best friends, Grace and Candice. Because of you, their faces are being analysed and scrutinised too. Their secrets may be revealed and publicised too. All because of you. You implicated them and they may be hurt because of you. If you want to protect the secrets of your friends, if you truly care about them, please do something about it. Admit your mistake, apologise for it, pull yourself out from the public eye. This is the least you can do for them. And your poor sister, she does not even have a choice of doing even the least bit of enhancement to her features in future because everyone will be watching her transformation from now on. People will be talking about your dear mother having possibly done surgery too since she willingly and generously allowed you to do it. And even your boyfriend. They will laugh and mock him for having a man-made, manufactured, carefully carved-out girlfriend.
Now, when people hear the name DAWN YEO, they will no longer see the image of that beautiful, big-eyed, slim-faced, sharp nose, lovely Dawn. The image that comes into everyone's mind is those 'Before' pictures that is circulating around. And trust me, they aren't very flattering pictures, not a very pretty image in our mind at all. Please look into your conscience, Dawn. Imagine if you are a man, one day, your wife comes clean with you and tells you, "Dear, I was actually a male before I met you. Please forgive me for not telling you." Imagine how the man would feel. Cheated, most definitely. That's what you did to us. I don't know if your boyfriend knows about your surgery and how you looked before. If he didn't know about it before this, I think you have much apologising to do to him because his feelings are those that you exploited most.
I may be angry at you for the above 5 wrongs that you did, but a part of me feels sorry for you too and I sincerely hope you would change for the better. A first step would be to admit what you previously denied, then apologise, then live a private life. Hopefully, the public would grant you your wish for privacy then, if you show that you have shown remorse and treasure the many gifts you are blessed with. Respect your own privacy (stop thrusting yourself under the public eye), and people would respect your privacy too.
And one last thing that I am extremely displeased with you about. Please do not say this: "If people want to continue to crucify me go ahead and crucify me." (quoted from your blog). If you insist on saying that you are being 'CRUCIFIED', just remember, Jesus was crucified because he did great things, you are 'crucified' because you did wrong things.
Please stop accusing your 'fellow humans' of being 'frightful' and making yourself sound so victimised, because the above 5 sins that you did fully shows that you are the one who has wronged. Repent and seek for forgiveness is what you should do. I will pray for you. Hopefully, this will tide over soon. May God bless you.
Love,
a fellow human.
[Ed: In case it wasn't clear enough, this letter was not written by me.]
Post ID: 113224835508351339
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
A report from a representative I sent down to the VCF talk last Wednesday: "Is it true...? Debunking the myths of Christianity" (the title actually makes it sound like an anti-Christian talk):
Representative: Not as well as I had hoped, the guy that I was with thought that the speaker wanted to beat me up or something
I was terribly frustrated towards the end and I think it showed
Not much, standard arguments...very standard apologetics. Gosh, with the amount of interpretation that he did, the bible could prove anything you wanted
yeah...you should have been there. Would have been more useful. I just realise that I could make a fantastic fundamentalist =P The highlight of the entire thing was when I used Hebrew to demonstrate why the creation myth of Genesis 1 was meant to be read literally
why the 6 days of genesis is a literal 6 days.
Me: but were these the "the earth is <10,000 years old" type?
R: Oh no...which is really good. They belong firmly in the metaphor and apologetics camp
Apparently the word yom in genesis wasn't just that. It was followed by 3 other hebrew words which clearly meant night and day. Hence night and day, god created this etc. This is especially so when Hebrew has like 3 different characters for epoch.
Me: ah I dimly recall this
tell me more
R: But I don't think my conduct was entirely examplery...nor too convincing unfortunately
I've decided that attending suchs talks as those held by VCF are a necessary evil
Someone needs to keep them honest. I mean the crowd there was docile and eating up everything the speaker was saying
Me: hahahaha
were you the only one?
ok we shall notify each other of upcoming ones
R: yeah
small crowd with the president of VCF nodding away at everything...
Me: wah
when I went last year there were 2-3 other skeptics
R: Lunch time talk....the rational and logical person would be having lunch
Since skeptics = rational and logical, egro they wouold be having lunch. THUS they would not have been there
Me: hahahahhahahaha
wth
eh last year it was lunch time too
R: Then maybe they left it up to me...=P
*Shrugg*...either that or they were turned away at the door
I wonder if I can attend any of these talks anymore =P
Me: haha
let's find out next time :)
Representative: Not as well as I had hoped, the guy that I was with thought that the speaker wanted to beat me up or something
I was terribly frustrated towards the end and I think it showed
Not much, standard arguments...very standard apologetics. Gosh, with the amount of interpretation that he did, the bible could prove anything you wanted
yeah...you should have been there. Would have been more useful. I just realise that I could make a fantastic fundamentalist =P The highlight of the entire thing was when I used Hebrew to demonstrate why the creation myth of Genesis 1 was meant to be read literally
why the 6 days of genesis is a literal 6 days.
Me: but were these the "the earth is <10,000 years old" type?
R: Oh no...which is really good. They belong firmly in the metaphor and apologetics camp
Apparently the word yom in genesis wasn't just that. It was followed by 3 other hebrew words which clearly meant night and day. Hence night and day, god created this etc. This is especially so when Hebrew has like 3 different characters for epoch.
Me: ah I dimly recall this
tell me more
R: But I don't think my conduct was entirely examplery...nor too convincing unfortunately
I've decided that attending suchs talks as those held by VCF are a necessary evil
Someone needs to keep them honest. I mean the crowd there was docile and eating up everything the speaker was saying
Me: hahahaha
were you the only one?
ok we shall notify each other of upcoming ones
R: yeah
small crowd with the president of VCF nodding away at everything...
Me: wah
when I went last year there were 2-3 other skeptics
R: Lunch time talk....the rational and logical person would be having lunch
Since skeptics = rational and logical, egro they wouold be having lunch. THUS they would not have been there
Me: hahahahhahahaha
wth
eh last year it was lunch time too
R: Then maybe they left it up to me...=P
*Shrugg*...either that or they were turned away at the door
I wonder if I can attend any of these talks anymore =P
Me: haha
let's find out next time :)
Post ID: 112723277721592748
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