"The happiest place on earth"

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Thursday, September 11, 2003

YAILR (Yet Another Incoherent Long Rant):

As if I needed any further pressure, they are now threatening me with withdrawal of my nights off and long weekends (though I haven't had any of the latter for a long time) if I don't lose their 10kg in 5 weeks. Now, BMT's target was 1kg/week and with some effort, I hit 1.5kg/week. So that is why I do not believe 2kg/week is feasible (and neither does everyone else, most of whom suggested I try Marie France for those results). Not unless I go on a hunger strike.

Many know that negative motivation is much less likely to succeed than positive motivation, and brings a whole raft of unintended consequences too. You can lead a horse to water, but if you force it to drink it will drown. Since they persist in giving me 2kg to work towards, I shall not work especially hard towards it, and if they're going to whack me no matter what I do, I might as well not do anything for them - even the threat of death cannot make people achieve the impossible. Also, with the time they want me to spend exercising, I wonder where I will find energy and time to do my work. Perhaps I should relinquish my appointment and revocate.

Someone formulated a theory which might give an insight into why I am feeling so distressed. Others don't mind physical exertions much, and can just "go and train". Thus, they don't see why it upsets me so much, and can tell me to "just train lah, what's so difficult". However, I have an intense, pathological aversion to it. Indeed, on reflection, I realise that after physical exertion, I always feel like I've been raped. I'm supposed to, and have been advised to learn to enjoy exercise and work towards the goals set out for me. However, if I can condition myself to accept what every grain in my body rebels against (though some may say the same of my and Neverending Slavery), what else can I force myself to accept by morphing my personality? High treason towards "my" country (even though currently I have no great love for it)? Wanton killing, rape and looting? Religious fundamentalism? Heartless terrorism? Megalomania?

They won't let me go even for 6 months, after hounding me for 14. If 42 loves me so much, and wants me to do exactly the same thing their men do, and enjoy the same "privileges", maybe I should try to get attached back there and laugh as I sting them, before I am promptly murdered by all the regulars.

Their enthusiasm scares me. Driven relentlessly, I feel like a pack animal. I wonder where from comes their almost-religious zeal, and why they find such glee in tormenting me. No quarter is being given me, and the mental barrier I have erected to keep myself sane gets chipped ever so slightly with each day. Instead of becoming stronger and more confident, I feel I'm becoming weaker, more insecure, and breaking down more. I can but hope that the curse of my gender will be mostly lifted soon, and that the 13 years after that will speed by before I am fully free.

Someone advised me not to do anything to get blacklisted for university or when I go out and work, since supposedly confidential SAF records are available for all and sundry to flip through (though I have doubts about that - maybe it's just an urban legend spread by the SAF to stop people faking depression). But then, it's better to be blacklisted than end up broken, crazy or dead.

Some advise me to change my mindset - since I'm already stuck in hell, I should try to be as happy as I can be, since I can't change it. If everyone had that sort of thinking, though, women still would not have the vote, apartheid would still be practised in South Africa and most colonies would not be independent. If this sort of thinking is so laudable then, POWs should all betray their countries and spill the beans to make their lives easier, since they are stuck in the enemy's jails already and should make the best of it. Child prostitutes should try to enjoy their work, as should child soldiers.

In the middle of the week, I was unfortunate enough to have to go for a 16km route march, albeit without a BCS bag or a fieldpack. Before the route march, all the senior officers came to talk to me. I think by now, I've heard so many motivational talks that I'm semi-immune to them already, not that they ever had much effect on me due to my unwillingness to engage in self-deception. Of course, there was some sense in their words, but there is more than one way to look at the world, and much of it was rhetoric. The first 4km of the march was done at an unearthly pace - brisk walking, I swear. Thus, near the 8km mark, after I'd been pulled and dragged along for a great distance, I fell. After recovery, when I finally reached the 8km mark, my CO promised that if I completed the next 4km I wouldn't need to do the last 4km: otherwise, I'd have to march again on Friday. So in the end, I managed to complete 12km by the skin of my teeth (the RT we had that morning did not help) - proof that positive motivation works much better than negative (see above). Except that at the end I was shouted at, collapsed again and this time broke down in front of 100-200 people. It was probably the longest, most severe breakdown so far (including BMT). I think if this goes on, my screws are going to be loosened. I just want to go somewhere where all the bad people can't hurt me anymore.

I wonder what will come of all this. I still have some way to go before I practice Satyagraha successfully.

"Eat well, keep fit, die anyway"


CCO does bunk cleaning a grand total of once a month (sometimes less). Still, their bunk is not noticeably dirtier than ours. Ditto for the toilets, staircases and all around the HQ Armour building's 4th and 5th storeys. Moral of the story: Daily meticulous area cleaning is useless and just another means of repression.

People keep asking me how to downgrade. My response: If I knew I wouldn't still be around!


NKF just gave out some donation cards. This time, in addition to flaunting their wealth with a nicely designed card, they have given out a VCD bemoaning the plight of kidney patients! That they actually have the money to cut a VCD should be an alarming sign. I wonder why they don't just direct their efforts to *helping* the kidney patients, rather than chasing donations in a never-ending cycle. Why, next year we'll probably see a TV show by the NKF to try to coerce people to part with even more money. Oh wait, we had that already. What's next? A feature film? A "Kidney Disease" monument, made of burnished gold?

I've little energy, desire and mood to do socio-political commentary nowadays. That's a bad portent.

It's odd, really. Some people complain I'm too cynical and negative, while others say I'm too idealistic.

Everyone likes my new phone cover, and they all say it's chio and "doesn't look like a Nokia" except Geraldine, who thinks it's "hideous". But then I think her tastes are the pits too, so :) The cover isn't that well made, though - the shiny metal at the back turned out to be a sticker which wasn't stuck on properly, so I removed it, and one part of the plastic in front popped out when I dropped it (though it was easily fixed). You get what you pay for, I guess.

Apparently the irritatig Jay Chou song with chanting in the background is called "yi3 fu4 zhi1 ming2" (the name of the father?).

The CDs I got at Jurong East could be read by my CDRW drive since, as Xephyris says, "DVD lenses are weaker". In the end, though, the only thing that could install was Europa Universalis: Crown of the North. Bloody pasar malam con artists. In the end I went somewhere where the discs were cheaper, and so far they all work!


Notes on Pirates of the Carribean:

Keira Knightley doesn't look 18. She's really, erm, grown a lot since Bend It Like Beckham, too. She seems to have some magical skills in the show - while she normally wears nighties, at some points where they'd be inconvenient, lo and behold, she's dressed in pajama bottoms (did those even exist for women at that time?)

Johnny Depp looks like a drug addict. And as all the reviews say, he's wonderful in his role.

A band played Arne's "Rule Britannia" at one point. This song was composed in 1740, and I'd imagine took a while to gain popularity. However, I'm not an expert at identifying the time periods Men-O-War and swords of forged steel come from just from their appearance. The phrase "Davy Jones' Locker" was also used at some points. Apparently the first literary reference to this phrase occured in 1751, in Tobias Smollet's The Adventures of Peregrine Pickle. So that further narrows down the time frame. My gut feeling, though, is that the movie is set before 1740, since by that time piracy in the Caribbean was on the decline (but then they *did* say Jack Sparrow was one of the last pirate captains. Or something).

It's not often that you see bullets whizzing through the air in films. At most you just hear them. So seeing them fly was quite interesting. As were the shade-moonlight skeleton-human transitions, which were very fluid.

Lastly, how the hell is this based on the Disney ride of the same name? Though it's been 9 years since I was on it (maybe even 16), so maybe I missed something.


Quotes:

[On everyone ganging up to gang bang me] Wah lau, Gabriel, you're like the number 1 enemy in our unit.

[On my troubles] You can go and kill yourself. We'll build a statue of you... Your arm outstretched, and an eagle on your hand. Before enlistment, people will go there and pray... "Don't let me go [to] NS, don't let me go [to] NS..." Then the eagle will shit on them.

Enciks usually have the opinion of wanting everyone to die. (attitude)

Then I shall tell them I'm sick (Sikh)
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