Over the last 2 weeks, I have hardly slept.
Work, Reservist and sheer need for mental stimulation have conspired to keep my sleep to less than 3-4 hours every single day. To add to that, I have decided to buy myself another notebook. This one has absolutely no lines. This is good. I am not big on lines in my notebooks, and this one lets it all hang out. If i get truly inspired, I might even start drawing something.
Night shift on exercise means long long hours in the wargame room with nothing going on, except attempts by near strangers to make time to pass by faster. This means talking about everything. In the time where I have space to think, on shift and I can't sleep, and I cannot read cos the commanders are around. I think, and I write.
Here's a voyeuristic peek at what goes on in this twisted brain when it goes on overdrive...
When one gets older, one starts seeking comfort. Being comfortable starts increasing in importance.
Maybe it's the amount of disappointments that happened over the last week. Can I proceed despite of all that's happened? I'm not sure. I'm feeling tired, uninspired.
Sunday I felt good to be in the office clearing work. Memory's getting short and thoughts disjointed.
It feels as if I have been disregarding people.
"Never waste an opportunity to shut up" Maybe I should start taking that advice.
What's truly important to me? So important that I'll push forward, despite of all the oppositions?
As time goes by, it does seem as if people are pushing me into a mould. Trying to make me confirm to "that which is right". Is it my rebellion an instinctive desire to lash out, rather than a conscious decision to forge my own path? The line between the 2 is thin. Distinguishable but thin.
I was talking to my church mate the other day and I gave him the condensed version of what he can do to figure what he really wants. Feels a little empty, cos I don't do it to myself. Or it's been too long since I did it.
What IS really important to me in the long run? What do I really want to achieve? How am I going to do it? Let's see if I can get a list.
There are a lot of characteristics that I see in people that I'd like to emulate. Don't know how to do do that, unless I understand the motivation behind which these characteristics develop.
How do I make consistency and discipline exciting and deeply satisfying? What do I need to tweak in my mind and others? How am I going to work that one out?
Often life is a balance of contradictions. The tension of trying to find the centre point between two apparent mutually exclusive qualities. Like dance. Techniques vs passion and expression. Get the technical details out of the way. Get the techniques internalized, so that expression can truly flow.
Yet the techniques must change, if expressions cannot be fully displayed... (Is that the right word? Fulfilled? Released? Visualised, come to being... I am lost for words...) by the current techniques, then do they then have to change, and new ways found? Then how would one describe discipline? If things can be changed on a whim?
Is life the same? What are the techniques, the technical details on life then? What does it take for us then to really and truly LIVE?
What does it take to get us to the next level? For every dream to be realized?
Are we then afraid of fulfilling out dreams?
Because by fulfilling them it sets us apart, gets us out of our comfort zones, comfort zones and boundaries dictated by the people around us.
Because when dreams come true, and we have reached the end of our journey, and we have nowhere to go? And we are truly terrified of that emptiness and lack of direction??
Cos we don't really know what's that one thing, we cannot explicitly state that one thing that we'll strive for for the rest of our lives?
If we had the power to fulfil all our dreams, would we take it? But we do, don't we? Dare we reach out and take that power into our hands?
What is at the end of imagination? Are we afraid that we might be inadequate, that we are not WORTHY of being the truly glorious beings we can be?
The higher we go, the more effort we need to expend to reach out to those around us, and possibly under us, to remain in touch with them, to connect with them. And though we resign to the fact that those folks may fail us often, and not live up to the mark they set for themselves, and we set for them, it is for a hope, the hope that we fight, that dream that one day they'll raise themselves to their full potential and realize their own glory.
If we lose that hope born of love, we'll have nothing to fight for any more.
A little something that I have on my computer desktop,
"Our greatest fear is not that we are inadequate, but that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that frightens us.
We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, handsome and fabulous? Actually, who are you NOT to be? You are a child of God.
Your playing small does not serve the world.
There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you.
We are born to make manifest the glory of God within us. It is not just in some, it is in EVERYONE. And as we let our own light shine, we consciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our fear, our presence automatically liberates others. "
- Marianne Williamson (A Return to Love) Quoted by Nelson Mandela, then again in the movie "Coach Carter".
The devil's advocate in me suddenly things, but not everyone wants to be liberated. Some might find the darkness comforting, even desirable. Then how?
Enough... There's one more night on shift work. And sleep beckons, even if it's overwhelming desire is quinscient for the moment.
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Saturday, March 18, 2006
Reservist
For the first time ever, I have been called back to serve my country after I have ORDed so long ago.
I went for my first In-Camp Training 7 years after I took off the green and brown.
Other than the usual scramble before to wondering where I put my stuff such that I don't see it for more than half a decade, I was actually looking forward to the break in routine. Even if it mean rushing to make sure everything is done and handed over, AND that means not very much sleep at all.
Why?
In a way, it would be good to see how the rest of my camp mates have gotton along over so many years. It'll be interesting to see other new people. AND it is good to take some time off to actually think about the things that I have to think through. And I have several on my mind.
When I was down at the camp, watching the new batch of botak boys preparing to run the Standard Obstacle Course, a thought struck me. Why is it that all the Singaporean men have this love-hate relationship with the this 2-and-a-half years of national service?
We hate the time we spend inside with a passion. Yet we can't stop talking about it. What's the one main gripe of Singaporean women about the men here?
That we can't stop talking about NS. That no matter how much we dislike it, when two or three males are gathered, the topic will pop up. It's only a matter of time. It is so much a phenomenon, and so persistent, that the ladies start to hate NS with a passion as well.
So why do we do that?
There are a few reasons I reckon. The greatest of which is this. Common Ground.
It is a common reference point for nearly every Singapore male can relate to. Your so-called lowest common denominator, the one thing that every Singapore male, or ex-male (case in point, Kumar, our national drag queen) can talk about. Like travellers sharing tales of faraway lands, or fishermen comparing their catch, or even women discussing make-up. It is the one thing that every man in Singapore can relate to.
It really is the time where everyone is created equal. Go back to reservist and it really is an interesting experience. In my platoon alone, there are 2 or 3 IT specialists, one hedge fund manager, one struggling entrepreneur (ME), folks in wireless communication, one chap in operations in Citibank. In the whole company there are people who have kids, people who have NO kids, people who are still studying and people who have worked so long school is another story lost in the mists of time. There are hokkien types who can barely speak English, and lawyers who can speak English and are starting to remember their hokkien. CEOs and corporate slaves. Everyone put their lives on hold and get called back to face a common "enemy".
And at the same time, what binds people together faster, than a common enemy and a common dream? An us-against-them mentality, too much free time, and plotting of a million and one ways to spend the time outside of camp or to "keng".
Put any bunch of people through these same circumstance, and see if they'll come out with a certain bond, a common identity, at least as far as that part of their lives is concerned.
Consider, if you had a link like that, if you'll unconsciously use it to invoke an instant connection and a surge of "inner-circle" camaraderie. Come on ladies, even you. Be fair. Make up, clothing, pedicures, manicures and hair stylists takes the place of NS in your lives as well, right? ;)
I went for my first In-Camp Training 7 years after I took off the green and brown.
Other than the usual scramble before to wondering where I put my stuff such that I don't see it for more than half a decade, I was actually looking forward to the break in routine. Even if it mean rushing to make sure everything is done and handed over, AND that means not very much sleep at all.
Why?
In a way, it would be good to see how the rest of my camp mates have gotton along over so many years. It'll be interesting to see other new people. AND it is good to take some time off to actually think about the things that I have to think through. And I have several on my mind.
When I was down at the camp, watching the new batch of botak boys preparing to run the Standard Obstacle Course, a thought struck me. Why is it that all the Singaporean men have this love-hate relationship with the this 2-and-a-half years of national service?
We hate the time we spend inside with a passion. Yet we can't stop talking about it. What's the one main gripe of Singaporean women about the men here?
That we can't stop talking about NS. That no matter how much we dislike it, when two or three males are gathered, the topic will pop up. It's only a matter of time. It is so much a phenomenon, and so persistent, that the ladies start to hate NS with a passion as well.
So why do we do that?
There are a few reasons I reckon. The greatest of which is this. Common Ground.
It is a common reference point for nearly every Singapore male can relate to. Your so-called lowest common denominator, the one thing that every Singapore male, or ex-male (case in point, Kumar, our national drag queen) can talk about. Like travellers sharing tales of faraway lands, or fishermen comparing their catch, or even women discussing make-up. It is the one thing that every man in Singapore can relate to.
It really is the time where everyone is created equal. Go back to reservist and it really is an interesting experience. In my platoon alone, there are 2 or 3 IT specialists, one hedge fund manager, one struggling entrepreneur (ME), folks in wireless communication, one chap in operations in Citibank. In the whole company there are people who have kids, people who have NO kids, people who are still studying and people who have worked so long school is another story lost in the mists of time. There are hokkien types who can barely speak English, and lawyers who can speak English and are starting to remember their hokkien. CEOs and corporate slaves. Everyone put their lives on hold and get called back to face a common "enemy".
And at the same time, what binds people together faster, than a common enemy and a common dream? An us-against-them mentality, too much free time, and plotting of a million and one ways to spend the time outside of camp or to "keng".
Put any bunch of people through these same circumstance, and see if they'll come out with a certain bond, a common identity, at least as far as that part of their lives is concerned.
Consider, if you had a link like that, if you'll unconsciously use it to invoke an instant connection and a surge of "inner-circle" camaraderie. Come on ladies, even you. Be fair. Make up, clothing, pedicures, manicures and hair stylists takes the place of NS in your lives as well, right? ;)
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
Dream Car
What's your dream car?
Me, it's not any of those fancy sports cars that go too fast, and won't go pass Gear II in Singapore.
Call it the effects of an all-too-practical mind. Call it the residue effects of the cartoon "Mask". Call it too-long-inna-country-with-a-90kmh-speed-limit syndrome.
Call it a guilt trip from crashing my dad's Honda City.
But my dream car, would be a souped-up Honda Civic.
You heard it right.
Something non-flashy, non-ostentatious on the outside, with the potential for AMAZING performance. Moderately zhng the engine, change the wheels, just to make sure I can go up that damn slip road from Rocher to ECP without overly straining the engine.
The rest, will go into aesthetics. The front doors are on hydraulics and SLIDE forward instead of just opening sideways. Oh, no butterfly doors. They're silly. The rear doors slide back, almost like a van's back door, but wayyy cooler.
And I don't care if it's possible, but I WILL make the roof a hard-top convertible. You heard me. Cut up the entire roof and make it retract into the boot like that new Peugeot convertible. A little body kit, and then maybe, just MAYBE let one of those chaps from MTV Pimp Your Ride have a go at the painting.
Sweet.
Me, it's not any of those fancy sports cars that go too fast, and won't go pass Gear II in Singapore.
Call it the effects of an all-too-practical mind. Call it the residue effects of the cartoon "Mask". Call it too-long-inna-country-with-a-90kmh-speed-limit syndrome.
Call it a guilt trip from crashing my dad's Honda City.
But my dream car, would be a souped-up Honda Civic.
You heard it right.
Something non-flashy, non-ostentatious on the outside, with the potential for AMAZING performance. Moderately zhng the engine, change the wheels, just to make sure I can go up that damn slip road from Rocher to ECP without overly straining the engine.
The rest, will go into aesthetics. The front doors are on hydraulics and SLIDE forward instead of just opening sideways. Oh, no butterfly doors. They're silly. The rear doors slide back, almost like a van's back door, but wayyy cooler.
And I don't care if it's possible, but I WILL make the roof a hard-top convertible. You heard me. Cut up the entire roof and make it retract into the boot like that new Peugeot convertible. A little body kit, and then maybe, just MAYBE let one of those chaps from MTV Pimp Your Ride have a go at the painting.
Sweet.
The Singapore Elections
Welcome Ladies and Gentlemen,
to a farce that all know and love. Nothing can be said outright, and nothing can be done. The effects of this farce, of course, keeps a moderately effective subtly dictatorial dynasty in place.
No complaints there.
The only thing I have, is for the ruling party to stop treating the rest of the people like idiots and push to see how far they can get away with bashing the opposition party, acting like children playing "He started it" AND expect us to be happy drones.
It's one thing to subjugate the public and turn them into sheep. It's another to rub it in their faces.
to a farce that all know and love. Nothing can be said outright, and nothing can be done. The effects of this farce, of course, keeps a moderately effective subtly dictatorial dynasty in place.
No complaints there.
The only thing I have, is for the ruling party to stop treating the rest of the people like idiots and push to see how far they can get away with bashing the opposition party, acting like children playing "He started it" AND expect us to be happy drones.
It's one thing to subjugate the public and turn them into sheep. It's another to rub it in their faces.
A Spot of Narcissism
I went to the library the Sunday before last. It feels good to read again. I have been starved for intellectual stimulation and my imagination has been kept at a standstill for too long.
I realized that I am a visual person. Very visual. It is a good thing that I have a vivid imagination.
I am reminded that I can sleep any time, any where, any how, any way. My camp mates know. I nearly drowned in a bowl of mee soto after a 9km run after breakfast.
Work is busy. It feels good to move ahead, and it feels good to rest.
I am a compulsive entrepreneur. Now if only I'll get my butt moving, I'll be a loaded compulsive entrepreneur.
I come up with ideas. I need someone else to plan and kick my butt. Once the plan is established, I can run with it.
In the book "Tactics of Mistake" by Gordon R. Dickson, the military unit is under the control of 2 people. One, the planner, or the tactics specialist. He plans. Two, the executor, or the field general. It is a good arrangement. Both roles requires virtually mutually exclusive qualities in the person, and both extremes are required for any successful plan/execution/outfit.
How shall I implement this where I am right now?
I realized that I am a visual person. Very visual. It is a good thing that I have a vivid imagination.
I am reminded that I can sleep any time, any where, any how, any way. My camp mates know. I nearly drowned in a bowl of mee soto after a 9km run after breakfast.
Work is busy. It feels good to move ahead, and it feels good to rest.
I am a compulsive entrepreneur. Now if only I'll get my butt moving, I'll be a loaded compulsive entrepreneur.
I come up with ideas. I need someone else to plan and kick my butt. Once the plan is established, I can run with it.
In the book "Tactics of Mistake" by Gordon R. Dickson, the military unit is under the control of 2 people. One, the planner, or the tactics specialist. He plans. Two, the executor, or the field general. It is a good arrangement. Both roles requires virtually mutually exclusive qualities in the person, and both extremes are required for any successful plan/execution/outfit.
How shall I implement this where I am right now?
Friday, March 10, 2006
Thought of the Month
I have been thinking about communication and the transfer of knowledge and understanding for a long time.
I reckon I'll be spending a lot of time thinking about this when I'm FINALLY going for my reservice this coming Wednesday. It's been 7 years. Can I still strip a rifle? I'm about to find out.
But I digress.
When I speak to people, there will always be a part of me thinking, "Am I getting through?" Human communication is a precarious and an inexact thing, with so many FUBAR* factors that at times I wonder how any of us manage to get ourselves understood enough to order a bowl of noodles at the hawker stall.
Consider for a moment. Human thought is constantly moving. In communicating, we attempt to crystalize a small portion of that, take it out of the context of our constantly moving stream of consciousness, codify them into a semblance of what we ourselves deem to be coherence and then project that outwards through actions and words.
The other party has to recieve these images and sound, hopefully in its entirety. They will then match these actions and words to an internal template, hopefully similar to ours, and try to make sense of the message, through the filters that they have in their minds, and attempt a fit into their own understanding and consciousness.
Wow.
Add ethics, censorship, human emotion, morals, subconscious projection through body language, intonation and context, I wonder to myself how the hell do we even manage to make ourselves understood to the next human being, much less live together and not kill each other from sheer frustration.
Some have said that 70% of human communication is non-verbal to begin with. 23% is the way we say something and only 7 frigging percent is what we actually say. Fuck.
Despite all this difficulty in communication, we still try our very best to make ourselves understood to our fellow man/woman/others. And in doing so, attempt to provoke a reaction we deem to be satisfactory to ourselves in the recepient of our attempt.
Double wow. We suppposedly evolved monkeys really do aim for the stars don't we?
Enough ranting. Back to topic. Shite. As if communication isn't back enough, I gotta have a brain that jumps around like a bunny in heat, on a steady diet of mexican jumping beans and coffee for 6 months.
Back to communication. Why have I been thinking about this?
I'll be addressing my 3rd batch of course participants come tomorrow. There will be almost 30 people at this seminar. Almost 30 individuals. With their own unique experiences, and their own lives, and each individual level of knowledge. I have 60 minutes exactly to take everything they have heard, imagined, felt or concluded about trading and futures, and throw that out the window.
In that same 60 minutes, I'll have to plant the seed of what we believe trading actually IS, and synchonize 30 people to at least have the same understanding and lingo that we would be using for the rest of the course.
And I have to keep their interest. AND I have to make sure they GET IT, not just hear it and keep as head knowledge.
That's just one of the reasons why I am currently obsessed with finding a better way of attempting to communicate.
I am, shall we say, blessed with friends that come from many walks of life. My own life is enriched by their presence, but there are times where I find it hard to convey ideas or opinions to the other person, and me, being the numbskull who don't know when to quit, will keep trying and trying, to a point of time where the person gets pissed at me, or it gets painful.
Oh I learnt slowly and painfully to communicate and to listen. But there will always be a situation where I face an apparently insurmountable wall. And this wall to communication is such that I care enough NOT to just ignore it and leave it.
Examples? Parents, people I care about. People that mean something to me, but try as I might not get through. Talking to them is frustration in the purest sense, yet, because of what they mean to me, I never stop trying.
Maybe one day, I'll get through to them. Oh they don't have to agree with me. They just have to get where I'm coming from, after that, agree to disagree. Can it be the emotions that cause this block? Baggage? Or a simple refusal to compromise? Or can it be just me, that the people that matter to me does not agree with the things that makes so much sense to me? And it is a failure on my part to recieve communication from them?
Good thing my Reservice is 3 weeks long. Maybe I'll actually come back with an answer to this question.
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
Location Location Location
Here are a few pictures of the places I have run around in my last 27 or so years. Courtesy of my not-so-newly ripped out hard disk.
Took this on my flight to Paris. It took me 11 tries to get this picture, and no, I wasn't using a digital camera.
Notre Dame. I checked, no Hunchback. There were a lot of gargoyles, and a huge ass staircase. Thank GOD I was fitter then. 
The craze is over, but this bloody picture costs me 200 Euros. Tell you the story another time. 
Read the town name on this train station. Hell is quite pretty isn't it? It's cold too, and I'm sure that it freezes over every winter in Norway. 
Can't really see the name, but it says St. Edmund's Cathedral. I'm a saint!
Ok, that's all for now. Later!
A Quick Update
It's been too long since I put anything of my own here.
Has life been a barren landscape such that there is nothing by which to update? No.
Have I been devoid of intellectual stimulation? Not as much as before.
There is a possibility that my mental development has pleateued.
I have rediscovered the joys of being barely alive after physical training.
In a very recent trip to the library, I have realized that I am starving for mental stimulation.
At the same time, work is taking up a huge amout of time, and with all the developments going on, I have again realized that there is a distinct need for better planning and increased focus in the way I do things. The need has never been so great.
Over the last few weeks, I have been coughing my ass off, and been feeling exhausted. I have a feeling it has got something to do with the lack of Vit C and healthy eating. I'm gonna go find some way of ingesting a ton more of that stuff, before I completely collapse.
I HAVE passed my IPPT for the new year. Barely. How the mighty have fallen. That is IT. I am definitely going to have to train up.
That's all for now. I'll sign back in again, when I'm done with today's work.
Many new exciting things to think and do in the office, so off I go to brainstorm of more interesting ideas of world domination. Muahaha!
Has life been a barren landscape such that there is nothing by which to update? No.
Have I been devoid of intellectual stimulation? Not as much as before.
There is a possibility that my mental development has pleateued.
I have rediscovered the joys of being barely alive after physical training.
In a very recent trip to the library, I have realized that I am starving for mental stimulation.
At the same time, work is taking up a huge amout of time, and with all the developments going on, I have again realized that there is a distinct need for better planning and increased focus in the way I do things. The need has never been so great.
Over the last few weeks, I have been coughing my ass off, and been feeling exhausted. I have a feeling it has got something to do with the lack of Vit C and healthy eating. I'm gonna go find some way of ingesting a ton more of that stuff, before I completely collapse.
I HAVE passed my IPPT for the new year. Barely. How the mighty have fallen. That is IT. I am definitely going to have to train up.
That's all for now. I'll sign back in again, when I'm done with today's work.
Many new exciting things to think and do in the office, so off I go to brainstorm of more interesting ideas of world domination. Muahaha!
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Strange notices
Take a look. Ladies, be glad you're not a guy or a plumber. Be very very glad.
Life doesn't get worse than this.
Life doesn't get worse than this.
Friday, February 24, 2006
Get This Party Started
Aight, listen up Niggas.
This is da MAN talking. So listen UP and listen GOOD.
My homie, DJ Funky T is burning up the decks tonite at CoCo Latte. So get yer ass down there and Par-tay. He be da BOMB.
So bling up, and getcher down for some tight booty shaking kick ass spinning cos this is gonna be a rockin par-tay. So good, yer NOT gonna need licker to get buzzed.
Check the details down below, and be there. Ya feeling me?
----
Interpretation. My mate, Ti Eu is spinning at Coco Latte tonight. It's going to be an OUTSTANDING party, cos he's a fantastic DJ.
Dress up and come dance. It's going to be so good, you probably won't have to drink.
Here's the details:
Place : Coco Latte, Gallery Hotel.
Date : Tonight, 24th Feb.
Time : 10pm onwards (ma Nigga hits the decks at 1am)
Kick ASS, mutha-fuka!! Peace.
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Folks from Beyond The Sea.
These pictures are taken from a time where I was a little younger. Good memories. And since I recently recovered my hard disk from my old computer, well.
Indulge my exhibitionistic streak. Heh.
When I was still fit in the army. Our last mission in Taiwan before ORD. The Bikees.
Jillian's 21st Bday in Scotland. Can you Guess which one of the people in the picture Jillian is? Andrew's the bf, or fiance, as the case may be. Guys, he's got the coolest FYP ever. He was working with a group of engineers to design an F1 Racing car that Mclaren will actually RACE.
Me, Stephanie and Ai Hsiang, in Maastrict, in the appendix of the Netherlands. When Stephanie came to Singapore, I bought her condensed milk and sesame seed oil.
Don't laugh, apparently they don't have condensed milk in Europe. So much for Dutch Lady being authentic.
Amanda ( on the right) put me up at her place when I was in Scotland. I love the Scots. Especially when just a tale on how Singapore's coolest temperature is 23 degrees celcius gets ya a free pint at the local pub. Oh, that's her best friend on the left. We were at Jillian's 21st. Refer to pic 2. Remember dammit!
These buggers got me WASTED the night before, then dragged me outta bed at freaking 8 in the morning to play paintball. This whole bunch features like mixed nuts. Literally.
From the left is Denmark (I think), Norway, Scottish, and Scottish Chinese. And they were trying to get into the pants of the french gals who lived opposite them. Peace on Earth.
Me and Derrick. The pool was in Myanmmar. In the Condo of the 1st Secretary of the Singapore Embassy. Piss off Keanu, we didn't even need wires.
I'll put in the places later on during the day.
Indulge my exhibitionistic streak. Heh.
When I was still fit in the army. Our last mission in Taiwan before ORD. The Bikees.
Jillian's 21st Bday in Scotland. Can you Guess which one of the people in the picture Jillian is? Andrew's the bf, or fiance, as the case may be. Guys, he's got the coolest FYP ever. He was working with a group of engineers to design an F1 Racing car that Mclaren will actually RACE.
Me, Stephanie and Ai Hsiang, in Maastrict, in the appendix of the Netherlands. When Stephanie came to Singapore, I bought her condensed milk and sesame seed oil.
Don't laugh, apparently they don't have condensed milk in Europe. So much for Dutch Lady being authentic.
Amanda ( on the right) put me up at her place when I was in Scotland. I love the Scots. Especially when just a tale on how Singapore's coolest temperature is 23 degrees celcius gets ya a free pint at the local pub. Oh, that's her best friend on the left. We were at Jillian's 21st. Refer to pic 2. Remember dammit!
These buggers got me WASTED the night before, then dragged me outta bed at freaking 8 in the morning to play paintball. This whole bunch features like mixed nuts. Literally.
From the left is Denmark (I think), Norway, Scottish, and Scottish Chinese. And they were trying to get into the pants of the french gals who lived opposite them. Peace on Earth.
Me and Derrick. The pool was in Myanmmar. In the Condo of the 1st Secretary of the Singapore Embassy. Piss off Keanu, we didn't even need wires.
I'll put in the places later on during the day.
Friday, February 17, 2006
What Car Are You?
I'm a Chevrolet Corvette!
You're a classic - powerful, athletic, and competitive. You're all about winning the race and getting the job done. While you have a practical everyday side, you get wild when anyone pushes your pedal. You hate to lose, but you hardly ever do.
Take the Which Sports Car Are You? quiz.
Go on, take the quiz, and then post your answers HERE!
Putting Everything in Perspective
My Friend Chek just smsed me.
An ex-colleague just passed away this morning of a heart attack.
Fuck. This is sudden. A hole in my heart opens up suddenly.
No, I wasn't close to Brandon, neither did we work very closely together in the 5 months I was in APB. Still, he was a likeable fellow, and I had a couple of interesting conversations with him.
He was suppose to leave APB to further his studies in Oz. Brisbane I believe. I cannot remember what it is that he was suppose to be studying. He was interested in trading. I know because we discussed it a couple of times when I popped back to the party bus, and another one of the soccer events, we talked about it.
He was gonna get out, and get going. In a certain sense, I guess he did.
Puts everything in perspective doesn't it? The death of someone that you know. Especially something as sudden as this. What would you do, if you really knew you had 24 hours left to live? Would you make the same decisions that you did?
What would really change?
I guess that's why we go to funerals. The dead is already gone, they don't care anymore. The funeral is solace for the living. A way of tying up loose ends, to do SOMETHING for the person who left so suddenly. To the living, it is also a mirror. It questions us on our own lives, the things we have done, and the decisions we made.
If we were the person that is lying right now, in the coffin, how would we ourselves look at our own lives? Would the things we spend so much time doing still be important to us? Or would some things that we too often overlook suddenly seem absolutely vital?
I go for the wake tonight. In part, for the loved ones of a colleague I never had the chance to know well. In part, for myself, a manner for self-reflection.
Cheers Brandon. This beer is for you.
Thursday, February 16, 2006
Disappointment with God
Danger! This post may mindfuck you and change your thoughts about divinity. Read on at your own risk.
3 questions plagued me since I was a kid trying to defend my faith to those around me.
3 questions people ask me, and I have never been able to give a satisfactory accounting of what I believe in.
3 questions. Simple, yet most religious types in the world cringe whenever these questions get asked.
Is God Unfair?
Is God Hidden?
Is God Silent?
How many times have we ourselves asked that same question? How often have we begged for a sign that there's a higher power and that supernatural force answer in a whirlwind or in a thunderstorm?
For students, probably every time we have exams and we haven't studied. (For me, that's nearly every single exam in uni.)
In times of crisis, in times of pain and despair. We shout for divine presence to take the pain away. For our lives to be smooth, or for a sudden flash of divine intervention and we wake up, and it is all a bad dream.
And rarely does this supernatural being respond. In fact, the response is an exception rather than a norm.
And then I read a book written by a christian, "Disappointment with God". It was a present given to me by my cousin and his wife for christmas. Strange. These 2 people are staunch to the point of being anal, it's christmas, and THEY want me, the black sheep in the family, to read a book that deals with God pissing off and upsetting people? Are they NUTS?
I took a plug at it anyways. After all I finished Asimov's Foundation series, and there's nothing much else interesting on the shelves that I have not read a dozen times.
The book blew me away.
I'm not saying I immediately accept what the book says, but to answer those three questions, it poses a few more questions to present another perspective to us. Here are a few what ifs (Gen! How about it? A page from your book ;))
What if, in creating man and giving him free will, God is looking for Man to love him back, without compulsion, without Him forcing that love?
Think back to the comedy, Bruce Almighty. What is the ONE RULE that God (Morgan Freeman) told Bruce (Jim Carrey)? That Bruce can do absolutely ANYTHING but he cannot compel anyone to love him. What if God CAN change all of us into adoring puppets, but He chooses not to? What if he set us free, knowing that most will reject him, and only some will come back? Yet He loves every single one of His creation?
What if, the reason why God does not speak out in thunder and lightning, and smite the blasphemer, is because He has tried it, and instead of inspiring love, what He got was fear and a "lover" that strained to break away?
If you have ever read the Old Testament, that was what it was like for them. God was with them, every single step of the way. No ambiguity, no question about it. If you have a tame cloud pillar cum whirlwind leading you at every step, you reckon you can doubt the presence of God? But consider this. With God looking at you every step of the way, how long before you tak boleh tahan?
What if, in restraining Himself from interferring, it nevertheless pains Him beyond belief, the same way we, as people, let our lovers go, knowing the kind of pain and lonliness they will face without us with them?
Yet we must, because we cannot hold them back without taking away their choice to choose. We watch as our lovers go away, and we stand by and watch their every step, feel every single cut, share their joys and their woes from the sidelines, every time, pulling ourselves back from jumping in, waiting... Always waiting for them to turn around and open their arms to us, so we can jump in and sooth their pains, and kiss away their sorrows.
The pain, the agony, the absolute torture of having to hold ourselves back, even when we know we have the ability to banish it all with a wave of the hand. Consider this, and then consider what it must be like for God.
Also consider this, a lot of the time, simply because we know the reason something happens, doesn't mean that we accept it. Even if we are given irrefutable proof, does not mean we believe. Why? Cos we humans are egotistical, hard-assed, thick-headed numbskulls. It takes a rather exceptional person to change once he has been proven wrong.
In fact, someone has once said that never in history has an argument has ever been won by force of arms or logic. Why? Cos the more we MAKE someone take our point of view, whether by force, or by logic, the person will remain all the more grounded in his or her view. Don't believe it? Try convincing your mom or dad that it's ok for you to stay out late. Heck, no. Write a freaking THESIS on why it is ok for you to stay out late. Try it. Go on, see if it's gonna be worth so much toilet paper. And you wonder why God doesn't just come out and explain himself.
Sometimes, I wonder. Is it because God is silent? Or is it because we are blind and deaf? Is it, just because God doesn't answer the way we want Him to, we call God silent, cruel and unfair.
So before we start throwing dirt in the air, and screaming injustice at God, watch Bruce Almighty again. And consider this, be careful what you wish for. Because, when you get it, you might wish you have never laid eyes on it.
3 questions plagued me since I was a kid trying to defend my faith to those around me.
3 questions people ask me, and I have never been able to give a satisfactory accounting of what I believe in.
3 questions. Simple, yet most religious types in the world cringe whenever these questions get asked.
Is God Unfair?
Is God Hidden?
Is God Silent?
How many times have we ourselves asked that same question? How often have we begged for a sign that there's a higher power and that supernatural force answer in a whirlwind or in a thunderstorm?
For students, probably every time we have exams and we haven't studied. (For me, that's nearly every single exam in uni.)
In times of crisis, in times of pain and despair. We shout for divine presence to take the pain away. For our lives to be smooth, or for a sudden flash of divine intervention and we wake up, and it is all a bad dream.
And rarely does this supernatural being respond. In fact, the response is an exception rather than a norm.
And then I read a book written by a christian, "Disappointment with God". It was a present given to me by my cousin and his wife for christmas. Strange. These 2 people are staunch to the point of being anal, it's christmas, and THEY want me, the black sheep in the family, to read a book that deals with God pissing off and upsetting people? Are they NUTS?
I took a plug at it anyways. After all I finished Asimov's Foundation series, and there's nothing much else interesting on the shelves that I have not read a dozen times.
The book blew me away.
I'm not saying I immediately accept what the book says, but to answer those three questions, it poses a few more questions to present another perspective to us. Here are a few what ifs (Gen! How about it? A page from your book ;))
What if, in creating man and giving him free will, God is looking for Man to love him back, without compulsion, without Him forcing that love?
Think back to the comedy, Bruce Almighty. What is the ONE RULE that God (Morgan Freeman) told Bruce (Jim Carrey)? That Bruce can do absolutely ANYTHING but he cannot compel anyone to love him. What if God CAN change all of us into adoring puppets, but He chooses not to? What if he set us free, knowing that most will reject him, and only some will come back? Yet He loves every single one of His creation?
What if, the reason why God does not speak out in thunder and lightning, and smite the blasphemer, is because He has tried it, and instead of inspiring love, what He got was fear and a "lover" that strained to break away?
If you have ever read the Old Testament, that was what it was like for them. God was with them, every single step of the way. No ambiguity, no question about it. If you have a tame cloud pillar cum whirlwind leading you at every step, you reckon you can doubt the presence of God? But consider this. With God looking at you every step of the way, how long before you tak boleh tahan?
What if, in restraining Himself from interferring, it nevertheless pains Him beyond belief, the same way we, as people, let our lovers go, knowing the kind of pain and lonliness they will face without us with them?
Yet we must, because we cannot hold them back without taking away their choice to choose. We watch as our lovers go away, and we stand by and watch their every step, feel every single cut, share their joys and their woes from the sidelines, every time, pulling ourselves back from jumping in, waiting... Always waiting for them to turn around and open their arms to us, so we can jump in and sooth their pains, and kiss away their sorrows.
The pain, the agony, the absolute torture of having to hold ourselves back, even when we know we have the ability to banish it all with a wave of the hand. Consider this, and then consider what it must be like for God.
Also consider this, a lot of the time, simply because we know the reason something happens, doesn't mean that we accept it. Even if we are given irrefutable proof, does not mean we believe. Why? Cos we humans are egotistical, hard-assed, thick-headed numbskulls. It takes a rather exceptional person to change once he has been proven wrong.
In fact, someone has once said that never in history has an argument has ever been won by force of arms or logic. Why? Cos the more we MAKE someone take our point of view, whether by force, or by logic, the person will remain all the more grounded in his or her view. Don't believe it? Try convincing your mom or dad that it's ok for you to stay out late. Heck, no. Write a freaking THESIS on why it is ok for you to stay out late. Try it. Go on, see if it's gonna be worth so much toilet paper. And you wonder why God doesn't just come out and explain himself.
Sometimes, I wonder. Is it because God is silent? Or is it because we are blind and deaf? Is it, just because God doesn't answer the way we want Him to, we call God silent, cruel and unfair.
So before we start throwing dirt in the air, and screaming injustice at God, watch Bruce Almighty again. And consider this, be careful what you wish for. Because, when you get it, you might wish you have never laid eyes on it.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Quote by Yours Truly
Here's a quickie,
"I have realized the difference between KTVs and Geylang (the red light district in Singapore). In Geylang you get your dick stroked. In the KTV, it's your ego that gets stroked."
"I have realized the difference between KTVs and Geylang (the red light district in Singapore). In Geylang you get your dick stroked. In the KTV, it's your ego that gets stroked."
Monday, February 13, 2006
What's my major?
Always knew that Freud was copying my material... heh...
You scored as Psychology. You should be a Psychology major!
What is your Perfect Major? (PLEASE RATE ME!!) created with QuizFarm.com |
Friday, February 10, 2006
What's In A Name?
I started this a few times already. This is a topic near and dear to my heart, and every time I write, I wonder how I can bring my ideas across. Not necessary to convince, but to communicate such that the other party understands.
I have recently been trying to frame my thoughts as succintly as possible. A new interest for me, to see how few words it take to put across an idea. And as I write this, I realize that a lot of the time, the shortest and fastest way someone communicates an idea across, is a name.
The giving of a name is perhaps one of the most significant acts anyone can do.
A name defines, sets limits, shapes the same thing that it is given. A name describes, sketches in a stroke of sounds the essence of the object, what the object IS.
In almost all cultures, a child is given a birth name. That name encompasses the hopes of the parents. In giving the name to a baby, a clean slate of a new soul, the parent puts the first mark on that slate. The defining stroke, an outline of what they wish for in the child. This mark sets him apart, the first thing that this new being truly owns.
When the child grows up, in some places in the world, they're given the right to choose their adult name. I think that's good. The new adult decides what he wants to do, who he wants to be, and then from there, names himself. That name then encompass his choice of his path in life, the definition of him to himself, the description of his identity.
I was given a Christian name when I was a baby. At a time that I cannot remember, I found the meaning of my name. It means "prosperous protector". I like to tell people I try my very best to protect. I'm still working on the prosperous bit. It is not easy to live up to the name.
I try to stand up for the underdog, I attempt to help those less fortunate. I hate bullies with a passion that fills every atom of my being. Over the years, I would like to think that I have lived up to the protector part of my name. After all, I always wanted to be a superhero. Just like what Seinfeld said.
"Here's the thing on men, I'm gonna give it to you now. All men think of themselves as kind of low-level super-heroes... in their own environment. When men are growing up and they're reading about Batman, Spiderman, Superman, these aren't fantasies. These are options. This is the way men really look at their own lives. I'm not even supposed to be telling you this. I'll give you a perfect example of what I'm talking about, did you ever see a guy moving a mattress tied to the roof of his car. He's out on the highway with this thing, he's always got the arm out the window, holding the mattress too, right ? Whatever he's rigged up there, he's always helping along with the arm. This is classic male idiot super-hero thinking. This moron actually believes that if the wind catches this huge rectangle at 70 miles an hour, "I got it, I got it. Don't worry about it. I'm using my... arm !"
I have only used 3 nicknames over the years online. Each one, I spent a long long time thinking. Most are related to my real name.
Centurion - my first ever IRC nick. Eventually shortened to cent, cos that's what everyone called me.
Sentinall - Likewise, a defender. The misspelling only because Sentinel and sentinal were both taken.
Vandalin - the only name not related to the protector. It means wanderer in Old English. Why? Maybe that's how I feel much of the time. Not really tied down to a place, a free spirit. Never really belonging to a place, or to anyone.
Will I change another name as I move on through this life? Maybe, then again, maybe not. As far as the protector is concerned, well, he will never go away. Made sure of that, at least.
I have recently been trying to frame my thoughts as succintly as possible. A new interest for me, to see how few words it take to put across an idea. And as I write this, I realize that a lot of the time, the shortest and fastest way someone communicates an idea across, is a name.
The giving of a name is perhaps one of the most significant acts anyone can do.
A name defines, sets limits, shapes the same thing that it is given. A name describes, sketches in a stroke of sounds the essence of the object, what the object IS.
In almost all cultures, a child is given a birth name. That name encompasses the hopes of the parents. In giving the name to a baby, a clean slate of a new soul, the parent puts the first mark on that slate. The defining stroke, an outline of what they wish for in the child. This mark sets him apart, the first thing that this new being truly owns.
When the child grows up, in some places in the world, they're given the right to choose their adult name. I think that's good. The new adult decides what he wants to do, who he wants to be, and then from there, names himself. That name then encompass his choice of his path in life, the definition of him to himself, the description of his identity.
I was given a Christian name when I was a baby. At a time that I cannot remember, I found the meaning of my name. It means "prosperous protector". I like to tell people I try my very best to protect. I'm still working on the prosperous bit. It is not easy to live up to the name.
I try to stand up for the underdog, I attempt to help those less fortunate. I hate bullies with a passion that fills every atom of my being. Over the years, I would like to think that I have lived up to the protector part of my name. After all, I always wanted to be a superhero. Just like what Seinfeld said.
"Here's the thing on men, I'm gonna give it to you now. All men think of themselves as kind of low-level super-heroes... in their own environment. When men are growing up and they're reading about Batman, Spiderman, Superman, these aren't fantasies. These are options. This is the way men really look at their own lives. I'm not even supposed to be telling you this. I'll give you a perfect example of what I'm talking about, did you ever see a guy moving a mattress tied to the roof of his car. He's out on the highway with this thing, he's always got the arm out the window, holding the mattress too, right ? Whatever he's rigged up there, he's always helping along with the arm. This is classic male idiot super-hero thinking. This moron actually believes that if the wind catches this huge rectangle at 70 miles an hour, "I got it, I got it. Don't worry about it. I'm using my... arm !"
I have only used 3 nicknames over the years online. Each one, I spent a long long time thinking. Most are related to my real name.
Centurion - my first ever IRC nick. Eventually shortened to cent, cos that's what everyone called me.
Sentinall - Likewise, a defender. The misspelling only because Sentinel and sentinal were both taken.
Vandalin - the only name not related to the protector. It means wanderer in Old English. Why? Maybe that's how I feel much of the time. Not really tied down to a place, a free spirit. Never really belonging to a place, or to anyone.
Will I change another name as I move on through this life? Maybe, then again, maybe not. As far as the protector is concerned, well, he will never go away. Made sure of that, at least.
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Spastic Behaviour on Lifts.
Have you realized that too often, people, when confronted with both an UP and DOWN button for lifts, invariably press BOTH buttons, with the perception that they'll actually reach their destination faster?
When they want to go UP, and they press both buttons. They get a lift that goes DOWN. And then they act surprised and pissed when they get into the lift, and the lift actually goes DOWN!
Idiots. Cousins to the people who press the pedestrian-crossing button on traffic lights multiple times, believing that the lights will actually change faster.
When they want to go UP, and they press both buttons. They get a lift that goes DOWN. And then they act surprised and pissed when they get into the lift, and the lift actually goes DOWN!
Idiots. Cousins to the people who press the pedestrian-crossing button on traffic lights multiple times, believing that the lights will actually change faster.
Ang Moh VS Asians
I just watched this absolutely HILARIOUS short clip.
It does, however, point out certain truisms. Men, sit up, pay fucking attention because you WILL see this material again. (Thank you Richard Marcinko)
Gentlemen, Get this.
1. It's true, Asian men often have to contend with a certain mental stereotypes that gets in the way of our sex lives.
2. This is a GOOD thing. It's how we use it. (There's always a fucking silver lining. Mr Optimism at his very best)
3. Before you go on the offensive, understand the enemy. Asian men are percieved as virtually sexless creatures by the biggest PR and culture machine in the world today. Hollywood. In my memory right now, I can only remember 1 Asian who ALMOST had a screen kiss. Jet Li with Aaliyah. Then Aaliyah died in a plane crash. Maybe it's white elitists.
4. Asian men are seen to be the stable, settle-down type who aren't a lot of fun in bed. This of course, is bollocks. We are all perfectly capable of mind-blowing, gratuitous, hedonistic sex, with no thought about anything more than the next orgasm. Ladies, admit it. There are times, where an orgasm or ten without the attached strings or guilt is more than welcum.
5. Asian men are percieved to be tight-wads who are economically less accomplished compared to the Ang Moh. This of course, is bullshit. Ask any mummy at any KTV.
6. Part of the reason of that above is probably the average ang-moh has his own place, while the average Asian man stays with the family. Probably true, till you realize that the company pays for the hotel room/apartment/condo. Still the logistical concern is probably one of the few legitimate cock-blocks that I'd admit to.
7. The exotic factor. And hence the perception of Value. Maybe yes, Maybe no. Most women are not ALL that visually inclined. Exoticism may or may NOT be a good thing.
8. Ang-Mohs are of a higher social status. BOLLOCKS. They are just damn pushy. And they hold as much "class" as WE give them. Come to think of it, if we ourselve act like we're in a higher social status ourselves, will there come a point of time, where other people around us will actually BELIEVE it?
Here's the ULTIMATE What-If. What if whatever the case may be, regardless of however much money we have in our pockets, or where we stay, the colour of our skin, we become completely comfortable with ourselves?
So much so that we walk up to ANYBODY at the bar and just strike up a conversation. So much so that when we go to the dance floor, we can just cut loose, dance, and simply fuck care what everyone else says or thinks?
What if we stop being modest, and nice, and obliging and start being cocky, even arrogant? Stand our own ground and push for our way? After all gentlemen, we know this ONE thing about women that is almost a constant throughout the known universe. They unanimously, almost NEVER say what they want. What they SAY they want, is almost always a fallacy, to us, the men, possibly as well as to themselves.
Is there any wonder at all that for some time now, any time I hear a gal say,"All I want is a nice guy..." I snort to myself, and say,"Yeah, Right."
And frankly, when I demonstrate at the drop of a hat, that I don't CARE what the other person think of the average asian male, and that tell them where they can shove their their stupid, narrow-minded typical ideas, is it any wonder why life for myself is SO much easier and possibly more fun?
Extensions of this line of reasoning include the BASTARD theory, and the worst-foot forward theory. Of which I shall cover at another time.
Peace, Out.
It does, however, point out certain truisms. Men, sit up, pay fucking attention because you WILL see this material again. (Thank you Richard Marcinko)
Gentlemen, Get this.
1. It's true, Asian men often have to contend with a certain mental stereotypes that gets in the way of our sex lives.
2. This is a GOOD thing. It's how we use it. (There's always a fucking silver lining. Mr Optimism at his very best)
3. Before you go on the offensive, understand the enemy. Asian men are percieved as virtually sexless creatures by the biggest PR and culture machine in the world today. Hollywood. In my memory right now, I can only remember 1 Asian who ALMOST had a screen kiss. Jet Li with Aaliyah. Then Aaliyah died in a plane crash. Maybe it's white elitists.
4. Asian men are seen to be the stable, settle-down type who aren't a lot of fun in bed. This of course, is bollocks. We are all perfectly capable of mind-blowing, gratuitous, hedonistic sex, with no thought about anything more than the next orgasm. Ladies, admit it. There are times, where an orgasm or ten without the attached strings or guilt is more than welcum.
5. Asian men are percieved to be tight-wads who are economically less accomplished compared to the Ang Moh. This of course, is bullshit. Ask any mummy at any KTV.
6. Part of the reason of that above is probably the average ang-moh has his own place, while the average Asian man stays with the family. Probably true, till you realize that the company pays for the hotel room/apartment/condo. Still the logistical concern is probably one of the few legitimate cock-blocks that I'd admit to.
7. The exotic factor. And hence the perception of Value. Maybe yes, Maybe no. Most women are not ALL that visually inclined. Exoticism may or may NOT be a good thing.
8. Ang-Mohs are of a higher social status. BOLLOCKS. They are just damn pushy. And they hold as much "class" as WE give them. Come to think of it, if we ourselve act like we're in a higher social status ourselves, will there come a point of time, where other people around us will actually BELIEVE it?
Here's the ULTIMATE What-If. What if whatever the case may be, regardless of however much money we have in our pockets, or where we stay, the colour of our skin, we become completely comfortable with ourselves?
So much so that we walk up to ANYBODY at the bar and just strike up a conversation. So much so that when we go to the dance floor, we can just cut loose, dance, and simply fuck care what everyone else says or thinks?
What if we stop being modest, and nice, and obliging and start being cocky, even arrogant? Stand our own ground and push for our way? After all gentlemen, we know this ONE thing about women that is almost a constant throughout the known universe. They unanimously, almost NEVER say what they want. What they SAY they want, is almost always a fallacy, to us, the men, possibly as well as to themselves.
Is there any wonder at all that for some time now, any time I hear a gal say,"All I want is a nice guy..." I snort to myself, and say,"Yeah, Right."
And frankly, when I demonstrate at the drop of a hat, that I don't CARE what the other person think of the average asian male, and that tell them where they can shove their their stupid, narrow-minded typical ideas, is it any wonder why life for myself is SO much easier and possibly more fun?
Extensions of this line of reasoning include the BASTARD theory, and the worst-foot forward theory. Of which I shall cover at another time.
Peace, Out.
Friday, February 03, 2006
Superman
In the middle of reading financial regulations... FUCK.
In the meantime, check this song out. I know, I know, it was popular. Everyone and their dog knows this song. But take a close look at the lyrics. Especially the gals.
Superman - Five For Fighting
I can’t stand to fly
I’m not that naive
I’m just out to find
The better part of me
I’m more than a bird… I’m more than a plane
More than some pretty face beside a train
It’s not easy to be me
Wish that I could cry
Fall upon my knees
Find a way to lie
About a home I’ll never see
It may sound absurd…but don’t be naive
Even Heroes have the right to bleed
I may be disturbed…but won’t you conceed
Even Heroes have the right to dream
It’s not easy to be me
Up, up and away…away from me
It’s all right…You can all sleep sound tonight
I’m not crazy…or anything…
I can’t stand to fly
I’m not that naive
Men weren’t meant to ride
With clouds between their knees
I’m only a man in a silly red sheet
Digging for kryptonite on this one way street
Only a man in a funny red sheet
Looking for special things inside of me
It’s not easy to be me.
Come to think of it, I may have posted this before but still, it's worth a second look.
In the meantime, check this song out. I know, I know, it was popular. Everyone and their dog knows this song. But take a close look at the lyrics. Especially the gals.
Superman - Five For Fighting
I can’t stand to fly
I’m not that naive
I’m just out to find
The better part of me
I’m more than a bird… I’m more than a plane
More than some pretty face beside a train
It’s not easy to be me
Wish that I could cry
Fall upon my knees
Find a way to lie
About a home I’ll never see
It may sound absurd…but don’t be naive
Even Heroes have the right to bleed
I may be disturbed…but won’t you conceed
Even Heroes have the right to dream
It’s not easy to be me
Up, up and away…away from me
It’s all right…You can all sleep sound tonight
I’m not crazy…or anything…
I can’t stand to fly
I’m not that naive
Men weren’t meant to ride
With clouds between their knees
I’m only a man in a silly red sheet
Digging for kryptonite on this one way street
Only a man in a funny red sheet
Looking for special things inside of me
It’s not easy to be me.
Come to think of it, I may have posted this before but still, it's worth a second look.
Post New Year Thoughts.
I know I am Chinese.
Because the year for me doesn't seem to start properly till after a bout of too much food, some Ang Pows, and pyrotecnics.
Some of you already know that I got meself a tattoo just before New Year. No, I didn't get a No Entry sign on my ass, as I have said I would. It's more, meaningful. Something that I have had in my head for the longest time. Something that reflects my name.
Right now, the above-mentioned tattoo is making its presence felt, and itching like hell. AND the skin is peeling off. Just like the tattoo artist promised. The fact it's in a rather private place means that I can't really reach at it and scratch. Which probably is A Good Thing. Actually it feels like a small localized sunburn, but much more artistic. Or I'd like to think so. After all, I designed it.
Funny thing, Lunar New Year. We do things around this period that we would not do any time else. In fact, things that seem rather offensive usually seem just fine right now. I mean, think about it.
Wasting food - Have you seen Yu-sheng? This is the time where we can actually play with food, make a mess, and it's all for a good cause.
New Year Goodies - When's the last time you gorged on pineapple tarts, cakes, sweets and when's the last time your elders actually encouraged you to eat more of those unhealthy food? The Discovery Channel episode of the Alaskan Brown Bear gorging itself on salmon every year during season comes to mind. And like the bear, once satisfied, the average Chinese will not see these foods again for one whole year.
Drinking - Now this may not be common, but most of my extended family are teetotalers, at least on my dad's side. That means that they don't drink. At all. I must have gotton drinking genes from Mum's side. Anyway, this is the time where it's actually OK to booze a little. I introduced Kahlua and milk to them this year. And mum didn't throw a fit. THAT by itself is a bloody miracle.
Gambling - I will always remember that one time when I left my auntie's place. I was telling dad in the car,"Dad, it'll be damn zia-lat if the cops come now. Supposedly you can't have more than 2 tables of mahjong in the house at any one time. There's 2 tables in every room." Dad says that the cops probably won't care and that nobody's gonna get in trouble. Being young and innocent, I insisted that even if the normal cops don't care, what about the seniors, or the superintendants? The big shots will kick up a fuss if they found out that the grunts are giving biased treatment to just one house in the neighbourhood right? Dad stopped the car, turned around and looked at me. "Who do you think was playing on your grand dad's table?" Oh.
Music - Have you heard the RACKET they pass off for New Year Songs? I was actually talking to my friend and told her that I thank God that nobody has gotten creative and decided that it's a good idea to do it in RAP or RnB style. That saves me the trouble of hiding the bodies of the people who may be inspired to commit this sacrilege.
Red - Everything is in RED! ARRGH! That being said, nowadays there are less glaring shades of red and thank GOD my family's mostly christian, and as such, there is significantly less glaringly red banners around. There are some nice shades around too. Just don't ask me the colour of those shades. As far as I'm concerned, there's only bright red, dark red, and light red. That's as far as I go for red differentiation. I'll never understand how women can call red 239 different names. Seinfeld says this, and I agree... that if one goes to a cosmetic counter and ask for red, chances are that the assistant is gonna stare at you blankly and say,"I'm sorry, we don't carry that colour here."
All in all, CNY is a good excuse to meet all the family that you don't see throughout the rest of the year unless there are weddings and funerals. It is also a damn good excuse to set aside time to actually take care of all the things that you decide to put off till tomorrow. Things like cleaning out your room, paying bills, clearing clutter, et cetera et cetera.
Well, now that New Year's officially over, and it's back to work, it looks to be a truly interesting time, 2006... provided that the world doesn't end this year. Wait, that'll make it even MORE interesting, right?
Because the year for me doesn't seem to start properly till after a bout of too much food, some Ang Pows, and pyrotecnics.
Some of you already know that I got meself a tattoo just before New Year. No, I didn't get a No Entry sign on my ass, as I have said I would. It's more, meaningful. Something that I have had in my head for the longest time. Something that reflects my name.
Right now, the above-mentioned tattoo is making its presence felt, and itching like hell. AND the skin is peeling off. Just like the tattoo artist promised. The fact it's in a rather private place means that I can't really reach at it and scratch. Which probably is A Good Thing. Actually it feels like a small localized sunburn, but much more artistic. Or I'd like to think so. After all, I designed it.
Funny thing, Lunar New Year. We do things around this period that we would not do any time else. In fact, things that seem rather offensive usually seem just fine right now. I mean, think about it.
Wasting food - Have you seen Yu-sheng? This is the time where we can actually play with food, make a mess, and it's all for a good cause.
New Year Goodies - When's the last time you gorged on pineapple tarts, cakes, sweets and when's the last time your elders actually encouraged you to eat more of those unhealthy food? The Discovery Channel episode of the Alaskan Brown Bear gorging itself on salmon every year during season comes to mind. And like the bear, once satisfied, the average Chinese will not see these foods again for one whole year.
Drinking - Now this may not be common, but most of my extended family are teetotalers, at least on my dad's side. That means that they don't drink. At all. I must have gotton drinking genes from Mum's side. Anyway, this is the time where it's actually OK to booze a little. I introduced Kahlua and milk to them this year. And mum didn't throw a fit. THAT by itself is a bloody miracle.
Gambling - I will always remember that one time when I left my auntie's place. I was telling dad in the car,"Dad, it'll be damn zia-lat if the cops come now. Supposedly you can't have more than 2 tables of mahjong in the house at any one time. There's 2 tables in every room." Dad says that the cops probably won't care and that nobody's gonna get in trouble. Being young and innocent, I insisted that even if the normal cops don't care, what about the seniors, or the superintendants? The big shots will kick up a fuss if they found out that the grunts are giving biased treatment to just one house in the neighbourhood right? Dad stopped the car, turned around and looked at me. "Who do you think was playing on your grand dad's table?" Oh.
Music - Have you heard the RACKET they pass off for New Year Songs? I was actually talking to my friend and told her that I thank God that nobody has gotten creative and decided that it's a good idea to do it in RAP or RnB style. That saves me the trouble of hiding the bodies of the people who may be inspired to commit this sacrilege.
Red - Everything is in RED! ARRGH! That being said, nowadays there are less glaring shades of red and thank GOD my family's mostly christian, and as such, there is significantly less glaringly red banners around. There are some nice shades around too. Just don't ask me the colour of those shades. As far as I'm concerned, there's only bright red, dark red, and light red. That's as far as I go for red differentiation. I'll never understand how women can call red 239 different names. Seinfeld says this, and I agree... that if one goes to a cosmetic counter and ask for red, chances are that the assistant is gonna stare at you blankly and say,"I'm sorry, we don't carry that colour here."
All in all, CNY is a good excuse to meet all the family that you don't see throughout the rest of the year unless there are weddings and funerals. It is also a damn good excuse to set aside time to actually take care of all the things that you decide to put off till tomorrow. Things like cleaning out your room, paying bills, clearing clutter, et cetera et cetera.
Well, now that New Year's officially over, and it's back to work, it looks to be a truly interesting time, 2006... provided that the world doesn't end this year. Wait, that'll make it even MORE interesting, right?
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Interesting Times
Yesterday the trip to MoS was... Interesting.
Only reason why I headed down to MoS was simply cos my boy, T told me that the resident RnB DJ was sharing sets with Koflow. Not something an RnB enthusiast can miss.
Anyway, T and I ran right SMACK into 1 for 1. What's two thirsty dudes to do? 2 jugs of brandy dry, coming right up.
And then the first incident of the night. We put our jugs down and were enjoying the music, which incidentally was AWESOME. Next thing we knew, someone STOLE one of our jugs. Yes, I shit you not. There was someone sitting on the chair next to us, this guy with his mohawk hair gelled into spikes (no, I don't think you can miss anyone like this), and he disappeared along with our jug. That ASSHOLE. No I can't prove anything, but T was pissed, my fuse was burning but... well, I'll live.
Fast forward a couple of hours of bouncing, and calling Koflow the Pied Piper of Hamlin, cos every time I go for one of his gigs there's always a TON of kids. Either I'm old, or it was paedo heaven. And then, for the first time in 7 years of clubbing, yours truly, Mr Make Love, Not War got into a fight.
T met up with a couple of friends and we were dancing on the dance floor, when 2 obviously Pumped-Up Bengs started sqeezing their way next to us.
Now, it was a crowded dance floor. It's a normal thing to squeeze around. In fact, tunnelling around the mass of humans, kinda like an earthworm through the dirt is about the only way to get around. But I digress.
These 2 PUBs were pretty agressive in getting their space. Now that does not sit well with me, and so I turned my head, and addressed them as such,"Hey dude, not much space here on the dance floor, take it easy aight?" Now I can SENSE the mood change behind me even as I finished speaking. But innocently thinking that it'll fade after some time, I carried on my merry way.
For the next fifteen minutes or so, there was increased shoving from the before mentioned PUBs. When one finally jabbed an elbow into my rib, I turned around and "excuse me" to which the response was a hard shove, and one PUB letting loose a string of expletives and telling me rather strongly to go away.
And then, PUB 3 and PUB 4 decided to join in the fray. I stood my ground, and tried rationalizing. Ladies and gentlemen, case in point, when facing down PUBs and other enraged wildlife, the RATIONAL thing to do, is to find the nearest whip and chair. In my head, I was thinking, if I start pounding said PUBs, I might get barred from MoS. I do not like MoS all that much (in fract, I much prefer Zouk) but I hate getting my choices curtailed.
Now in the span of this musing, a hand shot out to grab me by the neck and tried doing the "movie-one-hand-lift". Now not a smart thing to do. Now folks, if you are ever in a brawl, NEVER Attempt doing something like that. It might look like a perfect pose to intimidate, BUT, 1. You're not Terminator. 2. Unless you do 50kg dumbbell curls, it can't be done. 3. If you're attempting to lift a nasty lil bastard like me, doing that puts me in perfect position to solve any further need for Durex but introducing your family jewels to my foot at 80 km/h, or instant rhinoplasty with my fist.
Again, the possible loss of access to shiny retro floor, pink security guards, and overpriced booze flashes across my head. As such, to the regret of mankind, I did none of those things. Oh, don't mistake me, I am SPOILING for a fight. I. HATE. BULLIES. I hate bullies even more when they come in an entire gang, and I have spent much of my time as a kid planning and plotting on how to take them down. On rare occasions, I have actually had the privilege of executing those plans.
So I only forcefully removed his fingers from my throat. T tried to intervene, wherein, one of the herd pulled his shirt and tore his bling off his neck. It was at that point in time, that the security came in (thanks Gabriel). We moved away and after some time to cool off, carried on dancing.
Good things that came out of this,
1. It gives me an opening to talk to otherwise untouchable security.
(I directed said security to the PUBs after a while, and let them get to work. I am going to MoS maybe Friday, and see if justice has prevailed.)
2. The adrenalin resulted in more energy to carry on dance.
3. Well... There's no 3.
T and I left MoS before the PUBs, grabbed a drink at the 7-11 before heading back. Hopefully his bling can be fixed. If not, I reckon I'll get him another one. On a side note, a perverse side of me looks forward to the day that I will meet those PUBs again. This time, in a place I don't MIND getting banned from.
Only reason why I headed down to MoS was simply cos my boy, T told me that the resident RnB DJ was sharing sets with Koflow. Not something an RnB enthusiast can miss.
Anyway, T and I ran right SMACK into 1 for 1. What's two thirsty dudes to do? 2 jugs of brandy dry, coming right up.
And then the first incident of the night. We put our jugs down and were enjoying the music, which incidentally was AWESOME. Next thing we knew, someone STOLE one of our jugs. Yes, I shit you not. There was someone sitting on the chair next to us, this guy with his mohawk hair gelled into spikes (no, I don't think you can miss anyone like this), and he disappeared along with our jug. That ASSHOLE. No I can't prove anything, but T was pissed, my fuse was burning but... well, I'll live.
Fast forward a couple of hours of bouncing, and calling Koflow the Pied Piper of Hamlin, cos every time I go for one of his gigs there's always a TON of kids. Either I'm old, or it was paedo heaven. And then, for the first time in 7 years of clubbing, yours truly, Mr Make Love, Not War got into a fight.
T met up with a couple of friends and we were dancing on the dance floor, when 2 obviously Pumped-Up Bengs started sqeezing their way next to us.
Now, it was a crowded dance floor. It's a normal thing to squeeze around. In fact, tunnelling around the mass of humans, kinda like an earthworm through the dirt is about the only way to get around. But I digress.
These 2 PUBs were pretty agressive in getting their space. Now that does not sit well with me, and so I turned my head, and addressed them as such,"Hey dude, not much space here on the dance floor, take it easy aight?" Now I can SENSE the mood change behind me even as I finished speaking. But innocently thinking that it'll fade after some time, I carried on my merry way.
For the next fifteen minutes or so, there was increased shoving from the before mentioned PUBs. When one finally jabbed an elbow into my rib, I turned around and "excuse me" to which the response was a hard shove, and one PUB letting loose a string of expletives and telling me rather strongly to go away.
And then, PUB 3 and PUB 4 decided to join in the fray. I stood my ground, and tried rationalizing. Ladies and gentlemen, case in point, when facing down PUBs and other enraged wildlife, the RATIONAL thing to do, is to find the nearest whip and chair. In my head, I was thinking, if I start pounding said PUBs, I might get barred from MoS. I do not like MoS all that much (in fract, I much prefer Zouk) but I hate getting my choices curtailed.
Now in the span of this musing, a hand shot out to grab me by the neck and tried doing the "movie-one-hand-lift". Now not a smart thing to do. Now folks, if you are ever in a brawl, NEVER Attempt doing something like that. It might look like a perfect pose to intimidate, BUT, 1. You're not Terminator. 2. Unless you do 50kg dumbbell curls, it can't be done. 3. If you're attempting to lift a nasty lil bastard like me, doing that puts me in perfect position to solve any further need for Durex but introducing your family jewels to my foot at 80 km/h, or instant rhinoplasty with my fist.
Again, the possible loss of access to shiny retro floor, pink security guards, and overpriced booze flashes across my head. As such, to the regret of mankind, I did none of those things. Oh, don't mistake me, I am SPOILING for a fight. I. HATE. BULLIES. I hate bullies even more when they come in an entire gang, and I have spent much of my time as a kid planning and plotting on how to take them down. On rare occasions, I have actually had the privilege of executing those plans.
So I only forcefully removed his fingers from my throat. T tried to intervene, wherein, one of the herd pulled his shirt and tore his bling off his neck. It was at that point in time, that the security came in (thanks Gabriel). We moved away and after some time to cool off, carried on dancing.
Good things that came out of this,
1. It gives me an opening to talk to otherwise untouchable security.
(I directed said security to the PUBs after a while, and let them get to work. I am going to MoS maybe Friday, and see if justice has prevailed.)
2. The adrenalin resulted in more energy to carry on dance.
3. Well... There's no 3.
T and I left MoS before the PUBs, grabbed a drink at the 7-11 before heading back. Hopefully his bling can be fixed. If not, I reckon I'll get him another one. On a side note, a perverse side of me looks forward to the day that I will meet those PUBs again. This time, in a place I don't MIND getting banned from.
Thursday, January 26, 2006
The Story of Love - with English Translation!
An old song I found in the hard disk I RIPPED out of my old PC.
Huang Shu Jun's 恋爱症候群. Funny how the old songs are so meaningful. This one talks about the different stages of love, from getting together, to breaking up. Funny, nostalgic, a little ironic and all in all, rather sweet.
I'll try to do justice to the words by translating when I have the time. For the rest of ya who can read chinese, the lyrics are here. READ.
Ok, here's what the Song says...
And I gently whisper, I love you, love you, love you,
No matter whether it's dusk or dawn,
No matter whether it's in dreams or awake, I love you deeply. (X2)
How fortunate I am, to have met you...
Huang Shu Jun's 恋爱症候群. Funny how the old songs are so meaningful. This one talks about the different stages of love, from getting together, to breaking up. Funny, nostalgic, a little ironic and all in all, rather sweet.
I'll try to do justice to the words by translating when I have the time. For the rest of ya who can read chinese, the lyrics are here. READ.
Ok, here's what the Song says...
The Epidemic of Love - Huang Shu Jun
(Spoken Introduction)
Many experts tell me, to discuss love rationally.
Many experts tell me, to use a rational mindset to conduct love affairs (by Zephyr)
I often think, that these experts, have probably never fallen in love.
Don't believe, try it, how can you be rational when you're in love?
I think, it's probably false.
(Song Proper)
Regarding the cause of the Epidemic of Live, it is still a mystery to this date
Regardless of gender, age, job, weight, qualifications, looks or blood type,
Nobody can be immunized against it.
Some experts and scholars believe, that love is the result of an imbalance in body humours,
and others believe that it's like a virus,
Like the Flu, there's no effective medicine but it'll be cured by itself.
Whether you agree or not, all through history, till to date, there are many examples to prove,
That love is not only a sickness, it might even be something of a fetish(perversion).
(whew, this translation business is not easy)
Usually when one is hit by the sickness, the initial stages include a change in lifestyle.
One bathes extra clean, brushes his teeth extra hard,
and suddenly wakes up to play the piano at midnight.
Some people would stand at the balcony and grin silly at passer-bys
Some will suddenly be manic, suddenly be very calm
Some get a spastic expression, and look at the mirror biting their nails and sneeze
Some start cursing little dogs.
Gals suddenly change their hairstyle, guys start pressing dumbbells every day,
Appetite constantly fluctuates, muscle spasms, hypersensitivity,
trembling and craps all happen during this time.
(breathe Edmund... one more verse and 2 choruses to go. Yes, the song writers of that time have a LOT to say)
As the symtomns start getting worse,
people start becoming extremely sensitive, brave and even disgusting
writing, speaking, singing with as much flair as the geniuses and poets,
the more lovey-dovey the better.
Some people, after love, hide in the toilet and cry everyday,
some organize a press conference and announce their love,
and some like to hide in dark places in a couple,
like they have done something unspeakable.
Every day looking for fortune tellers, start thinking of ways to change themselves to fit the other's habits,
Treating every day as an anniversary, and themselves as the present.
Sticking by each other every day for no particular reason,
it's interesting even when they're not talking.
Walking, sitting, lying face up or down, they're never out of each other's sight,
just like they're in a 3 legged race, or siamese twins.
(Chorus - The First)
All I'm thinking about is to love you, love you, love you.
I don't care if there's rice in the rice-bin at home.
I don't care if there are people protesting or rioting in the streets,
I only care about loving you.
All I'm thinking about is to love you, love you, love you,
I don't care about the unification of Taiwan and China,
don't care about the number of refuges in Ethiopia
I just care about loving you.
(Puff, third verse...)
After a tummultuous period, soon, one starts to recover.
The two people start to get bored with each other, start to attack each other's weaknesses,
All the sweetness is gone with the wind.
And then it's waking up from misunderstandings and hallucinations,
and being surprised at oneself how silly he can be.
Ditching everything because of love, not caring about family, friends, brothers and sisters,
and feeling remorseful about it.
And then after that is tiredness, frustration, sighing, heartworn, headaches, teethaches and nightmares,
And THEN it's mental instability, nostrils flaring, short tempers , numb limbs
Finally can't take it anymore, and break up.
(Bridge)
And although the ending may be rather sad,
After you understand it, there's nothing really fantastic about it.
Love eventually is like a cloud, uncatchable,
And I just want to tell you...
In the times when I'm alone, your gentleness unravels my lonliness.
Brings me deep, mad joy, and touches my heart.
(Final Chorus - Yes, they don't scrimp and JUST repeat. They write a whole new one)
(Spoken Introduction)
Many experts tell me, to discuss love rationally.
Many experts tell me, to use a rational mindset to conduct love affairs (by Zephyr)
I often think, that these experts, have probably never fallen in love.
Don't believe, try it, how can you be rational when you're in love?
I think, it's probably false.
(Song Proper)
Regarding the cause of the Epidemic of Live, it is still a mystery to this date
Regardless of gender, age, job, weight, qualifications, looks or blood type,
Nobody can be immunized against it.
Some experts and scholars believe, that love is the result of an imbalance in body humours,
and others believe that it's like a virus,
Like the Flu, there's no effective medicine but it'll be cured by itself.
Whether you agree or not, all through history, till to date, there are many examples to prove,
That love is not only a sickness, it might even be something of a fetish(perversion).
(whew, this translation business is not easy)
Usually when one is hit by the sickness, the initial stages include a change in lifestyle.
One bathes extra clean, brushes his teeth extra hard,
and suddenly wakes up to play the piano at midnight.
Some people would stand at the balcony and grin silly at passer-bys
Some will suddenly be manic, suddenly be very calm
Some get a spastic expression, and look at the mirror biting their nails and sneeze
Some start cursing little dogs.
Gals suddenly change their hairstyle, guys start pressing dumbbells every day,
Appetite constantly fluctuates, muscle spasms, hypersensitivity,
trembling and craps all happen during this time.
(breathe Edmund... one more verse and 2 choruses to go. Yes, the song writers of that time have a LOT to say)
As the symtomns start getting worse,
people start becoming extremely sensitive, brave and even disgusting
writing, speaking, singing with as much flair as the geniuses and poets,
the more lovey-dovey the better.
Some people, after love, hide in the toilet and cry everyday,
some organize a press conference and announce their love,
and some like to hide in dark places in a couple,
like they have done something unspeakable.
Every day looking for fortune tellers, start thinking of ways to change themselves to fit the other's habits,
Treating every day as an anniversary, and themselves as the present.
Sticking by each other every day for no particular reason,
it's interesting even when they're not talking.
Walking, sitting, lying face up or down, they're never out of each other's sight,
just like they're in a 3 legged race, or siamese twins.
(Chorus - The First)
All I'm thinking about is to love you, love you, love you.
I don't care if there's rice in the rice-bin at home.
I don't care if there are people protesting or rioting in the streets,
I only care about loving you.
All I'm thinking about is to love you, love you, love you,
I don't care about the unification of Taiwan and China,
don't care about the number of refuges in Ethiopia
I just care about loving you.
(Puff, third verse...)
After a tummultuous period, soon, one starts to recover.
The two people start to get bored with each other, start to attack each other's weaknesses,
All the sweetness is gone with the wind.
And then it's waking up from misunderstandings and hallucinations,
and being surprised at oneself how silly he can be.
Ditching everything because of love, not caring about family, friends, brothers and sisters,
and feeling remorseful about it.
And then after that is tiredness, frustration, sighing, heartworn, headaches, teethaches and nightmares,
And THEN it's mental instability, nostrils flaring, short tempers , numb limbs
Finally can't take it anymore, and break up.
(Bridge)
And although the ending may be rather sad,
After you understand it, there's nothing really fantastic about it.
Love eventually is like a cloud, uncatchable,
And I just want to tell you...
In the times when I'm alone, your gentleness unravels my lonliness.
Brings me deep, mad joy, and touches my heart.
(Final Chorus - Yes, they don't scrimp and JUST repeat. They write a whole new one)
And I gently whisper, I love you, love you, love you,
No matter whether it's dusk or dawn,
No matter whether it's in dreams or awake, I love you deeply. (X2)
How fortunate I am, to have met you...
-----------
There... DONE. Translation definitely takes the lyrical nature of the song away. But hey, if you manage to read through this entire translation, you might have an idea why I like this song so much.Wednesday, January 25, 2006
Anything for a Brudder.
Right, I just remembered a brudder's request for more pictures, cos the words are straining his brain and his eyes.
And since he's now down with eye infection, I shall hereby aggravate his condition in an attempt to cure it. Don't understand? Simple. Traditional chinese cure of "以毒攻毒".
See too much porn, get eye infection? See picture of brudder, feel better. See? Simple isn't it?
And since he's now down with eye infection, I shall hereby aggravate his condition in an attempt to cure it. Don't understand? Simple. Traditional chinese cure of "以毒攻毒".
See too much porn, get eye infection? See picture of brudder, feel better. See? Simple isn't it?
with friends like these who needs enemies??? (previous pic removed on request)
not that I'm unfit, the pomelo is really heavy what!
Fine, don't believe me... 
Can you believe I'm hungry?
And finally, the reason why I don't really like straight forward shots.
At least when I'm making faces, I can put the blame on something else.
Speaking of Brudders, I don't care what other people say about ah bengs. I think that they're truly decent, genuine people underneath all the hype and misplaced machismo.
I have always found it easier to relate to the "hokkien peng" types without an automatic shield snapping up. Maybe cos I always know where I stand with them. Maybe it's because they're generous to a fault to their brudders, and always stand by them. And once you're accepted, they'll go through hell and high water with you.
Maybe it is just that they're that much more genuine. There's definitely a kopitiam-sitting, Tiger-drinking ah beng under this facade of civility.
And if you F*** around with my brudders, your ass is mine.
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Popularity Race
I was running through some of the blogs that I haven't had a chance to do over the last week, and I find myself drawn to looking at their counters.
I am ashamed to say, that I was actually tempted to join in popularity race. ALMOST.
And I remember, the only reason why I blog is to find a place for me to actually write the thoughts and the things that I find to be significant to me. It is also because I'm too fucking lazy to state the same things over and over again.
That being said, it'll be a scary day, when the anwer to "Hey how are you? What have you been up to??" is "Read my blog".
I sometimes wonder if the increase in popularity causes some people to actually change the way they blog.
I was talking to my brother the other day about issues in church, and I was telling him this, that with the increase of our own experiences and knowledge, we become also custodians. When we talk to people, we have to make a judgement call, and decide if the person is actually ready for some of the knowledge that we hold.
The answer is not always positive, and as custodians we may not always be right. But it's a risk that we'll have to take and hope that we do not do anything we eventually end up regretting.
Guess likewise in blogging, there are several facets by which we express our central character and ourselves as a person. Not all of them are to be viewed by the general audience. Some things also, may need to be written down, but need not be seen.
One wonders about the weight of those hidden words, and the effect that it might have on both the person that holds it, and the world if they ever come to light. I'll think more about it, when I come to a conclusion, I'll write about it here. Maybe.
I am ashamed to say, that I was actually tempted to join in popularity race. ALMOST.
And I remember, the only reason why I blog is to find a place for me to actually write the thoughts and the things that I find to be significant to me. It is also because I'm too fucking lazy to state the same things over and over again.
That being said, it'll be a scary day, when the anwer to "Hey how are you? What have you been up to??" is "Read my blog".
I sometimes wonder if the increase in popularity causes some people to actually change the way they blog.
I was talking to my brother the other day about issues in church, and I was telling him this, that with the increase of our own experiences and knowledge, we become also custodians. When we talk to people, we have to make a judgement call, and decide if the person is actually ready for some of the knowledge that we hold.
The answer is not always positive, and as custodians we may not always be right. But it's a risk that we'll have to take and hope that we do not do anything we eventually end up regretting.
Guess likewise in blogging, there are several facets by which we express our central character and ourselves as a person. Not all of them are to be viewed by the general audience. Some things also, may need to be written down, but need not be seen.
One wonders about the weight of those hidden words, and the effect that it might have on both the person that holds it, and the world if they ever come to light. I'll think more about it, when I come to a conclusion, I'll write about it here. Maybe.
Monday, January 23, 2006
Starting on the Wrong Foot
From Kurtlow.com
Your Chinese Horrorscope
Rat
Your mother-in-law is making life a living hell, but remember that patience is a virtue. Wait until she returns from her mah-jongg session later in the evening, THEN run her over with the car.
Ox
The old saying, “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step” will ring true for you while on holiday in Vietnam, when you step on a landmine.
Tiger
Tigers are powerful, persuasive and confident. You, on the other hand, are a rambling, inbred sod-off. The position of the moon says you should not use your right thumb for the next six months, failing which your nipples will shrivel and fall off.
Rabbit
Expect hot, kinky sex at home. There, you will find your partner lying naked, moaning softly, on your neighbor.
Dragon
Dragons have an infectious energy and zest for life, and are constantly seeking adventure. You will soar like an eagle, free and wild, when your parachutes fail to open.
Snake
There is great wealth and fortune in real-estate for you. Remember to collect $200 when you pass “Go”, and watch Banker Margaret – she’s acting shifty with the $500 notes. You and your spouse will soon welcome a wonderful new addition to the family: syphilis.
Horse
You will never find true love, and happiness will elude you. Boo-hoo. Welcome to the real world, moron.
Goat
Fall into the arms of your newfound love, after first removing the straightjacket and checking for concealed weapons. You will live happily ever after, provided you remain heavily medicated.
Monkey
Yes, you are that ugly, and no, plastic surgery will not help. On the infinitesimally small chance that you find someone who’s interested in you, do the gene pool a favor — don’t reproduce.
Rooster
You are extremely talented, good looking and intelligent — remember that when you accidentally let a wet one rip while grinding ass on your partner’s white ensemble next week, because no one else will, Chocobum.
Dog
Your plans to bag that big promotion will take a turn for the worse when your car skids off the ravine. You are compatible with brown, red or gold colored caskets.
Pig
Next week, your porch will be given a new coat of color when your neighbor hurls a machete through your neck. Fortunately, red is your lucky color and it perfectly matches the cream floor tiles. You are most compatible with Dog, because you like it doggy style, don’t you, you horny slut?!!11ONEone KNNCB
Kurtlow.com would like to thank Fuckstress for her generous creative input on the “Pig” entry.
Your Chinese Horrorscope
Rat
Your mother-in-law is making life a living hell, but remember that patience is a virtue. Wait until she returns from her mah-jongg session later in the evening, THEN run her over with the car.
Ox
The old saying, “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step” will ring true for you while on holiday in Vietnam, when you step on a landmine.
Tiger
Tigers are powerful, persuasive and confident. You, on the other hand, are a rambling, inbred sod-off. The position of the moon says you should not use your right thumb for the next six months, failing which your nipples will shrivel and fall off.
Rabbit
Expect hot, kinky sex at home. There, you will find your partner lying naked, moaning softly, on your neighbor.
Dragon
Dragons have an infectious energy and zest for life, and are constantly seeking adventure. You will soar like an eagle, free and wild, when your parachutes fail to open.
Snake
There is great wealth and fortune in real-estate for you. Remember to collect $200 when you pass “Go”, and watch Banker Margaret – she’s acting shifty with the $500 notes. You and your spouse will soon welcome a wonderful new addition to the family: syphilis.
Horse
You will never find true love, and happiness will elude you. Boo-hoo. Welcome to the real world, moron.
Goat
Fall into the arms of your newfound love, after first removing the straightjacket and checking for concealed weapons. You will live happily ever after, provided you remain heavily medicated.
Monkey
Yes, you are that ugly, and no, plastic surgery will not help. On the infinitesimally small chance that you find someone who’s interested in you, do the gene pool a favor — don’t reproduce.
Rooster
You are extremely talented, good looking and intelligent — remember that when you accidentally let a wet one rip while grinding ass on your partner’s white ensemble next week, because no one else will, Chocobum.
Dog
Your plans to bag that big promotion will take a turn for the worse when your car skids off the ravine. You are compatible with brown, red or gold colored caskets.
Pig
Next week, your porch will be given a new coat of color when your neighbor hurls a machete through your neck. Fortunately, red is your lucky color and it perfectly matches the cream floor tiles. You are most compatible with Dog, because you like it doggy style, don’t you, you horny slut?!!11ONEone KNNCB
Kurtlow.com would like to thank Fuckstress for her generous creative input on the “Pig” entry.
Sunday, January 22, 2006
Balance
I was obsessed one time about improving my balance. As a kid I was clumsy and accident-prone like mad. I still am accident prone, just maybe, a little less.
It's like I broke a room full of mirrors. I'll run and catch my leg on my own foot and fall. I cycle and crash on a regular basis at East Coast Park. Even when it's not my fault, and trying NOT to crash. I have kicked and missed a soccer ball, hit my head and went to hospital for mild concussion.
Me and a motorbike gave everyone in class the ego boost they need to know that things are really not so bad after all. They nicknamed me "Jackie Chan" cos I was crashing so much.
So I went on a campaign to actually improve my balance.
I will walk on all the raised concrete ledges next to the drains. On the bus, I'll try to not use the hand rails. I would see how long I can stand on one foot in front of the door at the mrt station. Yes, even did that stupid stunt with Miyagi standing one legged on a piece of wood, except not by the beach. I'm glad I didn't break anything important.
Balance seems critical to everything. At that time I was in Judo. I was trying to minimize the number of times I stared at the ceiling from a horizontal position. Then it was dance, which I sucked. I'm surprised that my dance instructor actually remembers who I am.
And now, with life, it seems essential for everything else. Gals I realized, are EXPERTS at balance. If they don't have it, they want it. Take the example of... the perfect man.
Gotta take charge, yet know when to relent
Knows his direction in life, but can bend to her needs.
Focused on his carrer, but still have her as one of her most important priorities
A fantastic lover in bed (But hey! where's he gonna get the practice?)
Established financially, but one questions of they can spare their man the effort, time and energy that it takes to get there.
The list of contrasting, mutually exclusive traits carry on and on.
In relationships as well, balance is critical. I think the one that truly needs both parties to keep to the straight and narrow, is the fuck buddy. Or, the friend with privileges.
Gotta be a good friend that one can have coffee and drinks with. Gotta be physically attracted to each other, but not emotionally drawn. Gotta have the sex, but not the emotions, and be free to see other people. Gotta have mind-blowing sex with each other, yet not develop emotional attachments. AND you gotta have schedules that don't clash.
Tough isn't it? So far, I have met a couple of people that fit the bill. One is married now, and I was invited to her wedding. I attended gladly. Another, decided she found the man of her life, and is now confining her social circle to a grand total of one.
Anyone else out there that's eligible?
It's like I broke a room full of mirrors. I'll run and catch my leg on my own foot and fall. I cycle and crash on a regular basis at East Coast Park. Even when it's not my fault, and trying NOT to crash. I have kicked and missed a soccer ball, hit my head and went to hospital for mild concussion.
Me and a motorbike gave everyone in class the ego boost they need to know that things are really not so bad after all. They nicknamed me "Jackie Chan" cos I was crashing so much.
So I went on a campaign to actually improve my balance.
I will walk on all the raised concrete ledges next to the drains. On the bus, I'll try to not use the hand rails. I would see how long I can stand on one foot in front of the door at the mrt station. Yes, even did that stupid stunt with Miyagi standing one legged on a piece of wood, except not by the beach. I'm glad I didn't break anything important.
Balance seems critical to everything. At that time I was in Judo. I was trying to minimize the number of times I stared at the ceiling from a horizontal position. Then it was dance, which I sucked. I'm surprised that my dance instructor actually remembers who I am.
And now, with life, it seems essential for everything else. Gals I realized, are EXPERTS at balance. If they don't have it, they want it. Take the example of... the perfect man.
Gotta take charge, yet know when to relent
Knows his direction in life, but can bend to her needs.
Focused on his carrer, but still have her as one of her most important priorities
A fantastic lover in bed (But hey! where's he gonna get the practice?)
Established financially, but one questions of they can spare their man the effort, time and energy that it takes to get there.
The list of contrasting, mutually exclusive traits carry on and on.
In relationships as well, balance is critical. I think the one that truly needs both parties to keep to the straight and narrow, is the fuck buddy. Or, the friend with privileges.
Gotta be a good friend that one can have coffee and drinks with. Gotta be physically attracted to each other, but not emotionally drawn. Gotta have the sex, but not the emotions, and be free to see other people. Gotta have mind-blowing sex with each other, yet not develop emotional attachments. AND you gotta have schedules that don't clash.
Tough isn't it? So far, I have met a couple of people that fit the bill. One is married now, and I was invited to her wedding. I attended gladly. Another, decided she found the man of her life, and is now confining her social circle to a grand total of one.
Anyone else out there that's eligible?
Thursday, January 19, 2006
Pain
From Richard Marcinko
"I have an existential relationship with pain. My pain exists so I can demonstrate to you, my constant and gentle readers out there, that I am inexorably... alive."
Right about now, my dear friends, I am very Very VERY much Alive. Just started doing my push up and crunches routine again. You know, Mon, Wed, Friday, push ups. Tues, Thu, Sat crunches. And I am reminded in no uncertain terms.
Edmund, You-Are-Not-Fit.
My arms hurt, my neck hurts, my chest hurts, my back hurts. This means I must be Doing-It-Right. Wait, my abs aren't hurting as bad. I'm increasing the number of reps next week.
Yup, I'm masochistic. I blame 6 years of getting used as the Judo club sandbag for this sad state of affairs. On the plus side, I am indestructible, and I am at my most graceful doing a Jackie Chan, ie flying through the air for a whole second before Newton reminds me again about gravity.
On the down side, I hate gyms, and therefore the chances of me hooking up with a hot fitness instructress that would privately spot me for squats is so infitesimally minute that there's a higher possibility of humans coming from apes (I'll give you my take on evolution another time). In fact, the most significant memory of the 2 times I visited California Gym, is getting checked out by other guys. And trust me, they weren't just comparing.
Now this is the surprise. For all the pain I'm feeling, I'm actually feeling better and more focused than ever. Is it the longer sleeping hours? (I'm waking up later now. This is NOT GOOD) Or cos of the exercise?
I'm trying waking up at 6:30 am tomorrow. No, I haven't done that since the last time I said I'll do it. Sue me.
I'm even thinking about getting to office early in the morning so I have some time by myself. My goodness, I'm turning into Anthony Robbins. I hope my mouth doesn't grow larger. It's big enough as it is right now.
"I have an existential relationship with pain. My pain exists so I can demonstrate to you, my constant and gentle readers out there, that I am inexorably... alive."
Right about now, my dear friends, I am very Very VERY much Alive. Just started doing my push up and crunches routine again. You know, Mon, Wed, Friday, push ups. Tues, Thu, Sat crunches. And I am reminded in no uncertain terms.
Edmund, You-Are-Not-Fit.
My arms hurt, my neck hurts, my chest hurts, my back hurts. This means I must be Doing-It-Right. Wait, my abs aren't hurting as bad. I'm increasing the number of reps next week.
Yup, I'm masochistic. I blame 6 years of getting used as the Judo club sandbag for this sad state of affairs. On the plus side, I am indestructible, and I am at my most graceful doing a Jackie Chan, ie flying through the air for a whole second before Newton reminds me again about gravity.
On the down side, I hate gyms, and therefore the chances of me hooking up with a hot fitness instructress that would privately spot me for squats is so infitesimally minute that there's a higher possibility of humans coming from apes (I'll give you my take on evolution another time). In fact, the most significant memory of the 2 times I visited California Gym, is getting checked out by other guys. And trust me, they weren't just comparing.
Now this is the surprise. For all the pain I'm feeling, I'm actually feeling better and more focused than ever. Is it the longer sleeping hours? (I'm waking up later now. This is NOT GOOD) Or cos of the exercise?
I'm trying waking up at 6:30 am tomorrow. No, I haven't done that since the last time I said I'll do it. Sue me.
I'm even thinking about getting to office early in the morning so I have some time by myself. My goodness, I'm turning into Anthony Robbins. I hope my mouth doesn't grow larger. It's big enough as it is right now.
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
The Most Perfectionistic Nation in The World
Trust the Japs to come up with a faster, better way...
to FOLD SHIRTS!
Actually it works. I know. I have tried it.
And then they have to come up with an anime series on FARKING RUBBISH COLLECTORS!
The Japs are now all-powerful. They have proven they can do ANYTHING.
to FOLD SHIRTS!
Actually it works. I know. I have tried it.
And then they have to come up with an anime series on FARKING RUBBISH COLLECTORS!
The Japs are now all-powerful. They have proven they can do ANYTHING.
Sunday, January 15, 2006
Racial Harmony
I have an issue with racial tolerance. I don't think it means anything.
My friends from other races and I have discussed this many, many times before. But since this is my blog, I'm putting MY opinion down. The rest of ya, are allowed to comment all you want.
My take is that just cos you don't beat another guy up for the colour of his skin and eyes, is not in any way to be defined as "a good thing".
True, it's less bad than getting pounded for being born with a permanent tan, or with melanin-gifted skin, but really, is that ALL we're aiming for?
I don't think that ignoring the colour of skin is a good solution either.
Granted, the colour of the skin is a shortcut for people to assume things about each other. Their culture, upbringing, perhaps even habits and traits, as well as their social taboos. For the sake of courtesy and one's survival in a world with more than one race, one cannot ignore the usefulness of getting certain cues on behaviour from the colour of the skin.
Examples? It's safe to assume that you're not gonna ask your malay colleague out for lunch during Ramadan, or if you have an indian friend, ask if it's alright to eat beef in front of them.
Now that being SAID, assumptions help to save time. Treat it as a religion and God's own truth, and we're all in trouble. Yeah, we'll have to walk the thin line of moderation again. Life's a bitch isn't it? Tough but true.
Right, ideal scenario? The same as every other arguement, or disalignment of opinion in the world. AGREE TO DISAGREE! The only time when I feel that's achieved is when everyone's comfortable with each other's difference.
To the extent that we can tease each other about it. I will holla out to some of my closer indian friends,"Oi, Mama!" and the typical response is,"Ya what, Mun-Gen?"
There are certain unique features about every race, so revel in the difference! Boring right? Everybody exactly the same.
Lemme see if I can list down all the interesting stuff about the various races that I noticed in the clubbing context
My friends from other races and I have discussed this many, many times before. But since this is my blog, I'm putting MY opinion down. The rest of ya, are allowed to comment all you want.
My take is that just cos you don't beat another guy up for the colour of his skin and eyes, is not in any way to be defined as "a good thing".
True, it's less bad than getting pounded for being born with a permanent tan, or with melanin-gifted skin, but really, is that ALL we're aiming for?
I don't think that ignoring the colour of skin is a good solution either.
Granted, the colour of the skin is a shortcut for people to assume things about each other. Their culture, upbringing, perhaps even habits and traits, as well as their social taboos. For the sake of courtesy and one's survival in a world with more than one race, one cannot ignore the usefulness of getting certain cues on behaviour from the colour of the skin.
Examples? It's safe to assume that you're not gonna ask your malay colleague out for lunch during Ramadan, or if you have an indian friend, ask if it's alright to eat beef in front of them.
Now that being SAID, assumptions help to save time. Treat it as a religion and God's own truth, and we're all in trouble. Yeah, we'll have to walk the thin line of moderation again. Life's a bitch isn't it? Tough but true.
Right, ideal scenario? The same as every other arguement, or disalignment of opinion in the world. AGREE TO DISAGREE! The only time when I feel that's achieved is when everyone's comfortable with each other's difference.
To the extent that we can tease each other about it. I will holla out to some of my closer indian friends,"Oi, Mama!" and the typical response is,"Ya what, Mun-Gen?"
There are certain unique features about every race, so revel in the difference! Boring right? Everybody exactly the same.
Lemme see if I can list down all the interesting stuff about the various races that I noticed in the clubbing context
- Indians are generally excellent communicators. Need a refund of a discount on the drinks? Send them.
- Malays are damn easy-going and easy-to-talk-to. They dance well too. So they make the perfect clubbing companion.
- Chinese are self-effacing (usually. Not me though. I'm honest). They'll sit one corner and drink, so they're perfect for reserving seats.
- Ang Moh are uninhibited, and most males can't dance, unless they're gay. They provide the entertainment. Look at one, and you'll actually feel there's hope in the world.
Thursday, January 12, 2006
Knowing One's Own Value
Singapore society has mostly Asian values, of which modesty features as one of the highest of all "Asian" virtue. But I think in Singapore, we may have taken this one step too far.
What do I mean?
My brother is at this point of time coming out to work.
I took ONE LOOK at the resume and the cover letter and immediately told him that he's gonna need a MAJOR overhaul.
Why?
I have said it before, most Singaporeans are far too modest about themselves. The average Singaporean men SUCK at marketing themselves, simply cos they don't know what they're worth. They have no idea what they can offer and they cannot articulate their value.
That's why my brother's resume has got "please employ me" written all over it. That's why it needs a major overhaul.
I'm not asking anybody to boast, or tell any available person about their lifetime achievements in explicit detail 17 times a day.
For those looking for a job, or looking to move, understand this. Whenever you go for an interview, it's not only the person on the other side of the table looking at you and evaluating to see if you're suitable for the job. It's also YOU looking at him, and asking yourself, does HE have anything for ME?
Same thing in day-to-day relations and in the playing field of human attraction. Why is it that when guys end up hemming and hawing when talking face to face with good looking gals? The better-looking, the more the stutter?
Cos we're not confident of ourselves! And so it ends up the poor hot chick has to sit by the corner, and the only people that talk to her are sleazebags (who don't give a damn anyway) or the supremely confident.
And it's not that we don't have something to say, or cannot find something interesting to say. Hey, if the same hot chick rams her car into your baby Toyota Cilica, trust me, you'll have no trouble finding creative, interesting, and highly descriptive things to say about her, her lineage, her driving instructor and her cat.
So yes, there IS value in each and everyone of us. All we have to do is to be confident of that, and learn how to demonstrate that value, and articulate it. Once we can do that, well... the rest is just details.
What do I mean?
My brother is at this point of time coming out to work.
I took ONE LOOK at the resume and the cover letter and immediately told him that he's gonna need a MAJOR overhaul.
Why?
I have said it before, most Singaporeans are far too modest about themselves. The average Singaporean men SUCK at marketing themselves, simply cos they don't know what they're worth. They have no idea what they can offer and they cannot articulate their value.
That's why my brother's resume has got "please employ me" written all over it. That's why it needs a major overhaul.
I'm not asking anybody to boast, or tell any available person about their lifetime achievements in explicit detail 17 times a day.
For those looking for a job, or looking to move, understand this. Whenever you go for an interview, it's not only the person on the other side of the table looking at you and evaluating to see if you're suitable for the job. It's also YOU looking at him, and asking yourself, does HE have anything for ME?
Same thing in day-to-day relations and in the playing field of human attraction. Why is it that when guys end up hemming and hawing when talking face to face with good looking gals? The better-looking, the more the stutter?
Cos we're not confident of ourselves! And so it ends up the poor hot chick has to sit by the corner, and the only people that talk to her are sleazebags (who don't give a damn anyway) or the supremely confident.
And it's not that we don't have something to say, or cannot find something interesting to say. Hey, if the same hot chick rams her car into your baby Toyota Cilica, trust me, you'll have no trouble finding creative, interesting, and highly descriptive things to say about her, her lineage, her driving instructor and her cat.
So yes, there IS value in each and everyone of us. All we have to do is to be confident of that, and learn how to demonstrate that value, and articulate it. Once we can do that, well... the rest is just details.
Little by Little, One Step At a Time
Not everyone can go out and change the world in huge dramatic ways overnight. That however does not mean that we cannot do something about the world around us.
If you have EVER watched a nature show on TV, you will know that the rainforests are dying every day. Ah well they're on the other side of the world, and anyway what can we do?
We can.
Remember the Lifedrops program that NKF used to do? Every month, $1 or $5 or $10 gets deducted from the people's pay and put into the charity. Hey, I didn't join, simply cos it was frigging NKF (even in those times I smelt a small furry rodent). Still, let's give credit to those jokers for coming up with such an insidious plan and use it for good.
Know the straws that you use? They're not biodegradable. Stop using so many straws all the time. I remember a friend telling me one time in Secondary school that if the straw gets dumped into the sea, they find their way into the breathing holes of dolphins and other sea creatures. I have stopped drinking from straws unless absolutely necessary (like Chin-chow or flaming lamborghinis).
The plastic bags that one uses and dumps choke up sea creatures and hurt the reefs. Sea-turtle heads that get caught in plastic bags and cannot free themselves (no fingers and opposable thumbs remember?) literally suffocate to death.
On the same note, for dececy's sake, if nothing else, pick up rubbish from the beach and dump it in the trash can. This is not freaking Timbuktu, where there's 21km between each dustbin.
Fishermen, don't chuck your unused fishing line or nets into the sea. Small creatures that get caught in the net just struggle, but if larger creatures like turtles and sea mammals get their mouths caught in them, they starve to death. A stupid number of dolphins, manatees, sharks and turtles are killed by drift nets. Fark, they're on top of the food chain. What else do you think can get THEM other than our own convenience?
Stop eating shark's fin. Go for something of equal atas-ness, but taste as good, like abalone or buddha jumps over the wall. After all cut a sea cucumber in half and leave it for a month and you have two sea cucumbers. Personally I dunno about this obsession with abalone. It's glorified rubber as far as I'm concerned.
Go to the rainforest site and click on it every day before you do anything else. 11.2 square feet may not seem like much, but if we do that every single day, and get more folks to join in, we'll save HUGE tracts of rainforests in no time. Lemme see, 11.2 sqft a day that's 4088 sq ft of land a year... that's about 4 times the size of my office. Now if all you jokers out there do it all together now, we may just be able to buy Brazil in about 3 years.
Get the government to FREAKING put recycle bins in the relevant places, like in housing estates for example! I don't know which IDIOT came up with the idea of putting it in town, where nobody stays, when most of the trash is generated either at home, or in industrial estates. I am surprised nobody said anything till now. Now which big shot in what agency do I tell to bend over so I can kick his head out from inside his ass?
Nothing much right? Seem like little things, but together, the impact is IMMENSE. $1 every month, and Durai is farking rich. Go figure.
It has been a long standing belief of mine that if anyone can find a way to make a ton of money from conservation, we'll see a heck of a lot more effort from the big corporations. So, anyone wanna save the world AND become a billionaire?
Now if only someone can find a way to extract some penile enhancement drug from mosquitoes, you'll see them making the endangered species list and the gratitude of half the human population on earth. Not bad, for a pay off eh?
If you have EVER watched a nature show on TV, you will know that the rainforests are dying every day. Ah well they're on the other side of the world, and anyway what can we do?
We can.
Remember the Lifedrops program that NKF used to do? Every month, $1 or $5 or $10 gets deducted from the people's pay and put into the charity. Hey, I didn't join, simply cos it was frigging NKF (even in those times I smelt a small furry rodent). Still, let's give credit to those jokers for coming up with such an insidious plan and use it for good.
Know the straws that you use? They're not biodegradable. Stop using so many straws all the time. I remember a friend telling me one time in Secondary school that if the straw gets dumped into the sea, they find their way into the breathing holes of dolphins and other sea creatures. I have stopped drinking from straws unless absolutely necessary (like Chin-chow or flaming lamborghinis).
The plastic bags that one uses and dumps choke up sea creatures and hurt the reefs. Sea-turtle heads that get caught in plastic bags and cannot free themselves (no fingers and opposable thumbs remember?) literally suffocate to death.
On the same note, for dececy's sake, if nothing else, pick up rubbish from the beach and dump it in the trash can. This is not freaking Timbuktu, where there's 21km between each dustbin.
Fishermen, don't chuck your unused fishing line or nets into the sea. Small creatures that get caught in the net just struggle, but if larger creatures like turtles and sea mammals get their mouths caught in them, they starve to death. A stupid number of dolphins, manatees, sharks and turtles are killed by drift nets. Fark, they're on top of the food chain. What else do you think can get THEM other than our own convenience?
Stop eating shark's fin. Go for something of equal atas-ness, but taste as good, like abalone or buddha jumps over the wall. After all cut a sea cucumber in half and leave it for a month and you have two sea cucumbers. Personally I dunno about this obsession with abalone. It's glorified rubber as far as I'm concerned.
Go to the rainforest site and click on it every day before you do anything else. 11.2 square feet may not seem like much, but if we do that every single day, and get more folks to join in, we'll save HUGE tracts of rainforests in no time. Lemme see, 11.2 sqft a day that's 4088 sq ft of land a year... that's about 4 times the size of my office. Now if all you jokers out there do it all together now, we may just be able to buy Brazil in about 3 years.
Get the government to FREAKING put recycle bins in the relevant places, like in housing estates for example! I don't know which IDIOT came up with the idea of putting it in town, where nobody stays, when most of the trash is generated either at home, or in industrial estates. I am surprised nobody said anything till now. Now which big shot in what agency do I tell to bend over so I can kick his head out from inside his ass?
Nothing much right? Seem like little things, but together, the impact is IMMENSE. $1 every month, and Durai is farking rich. Go figure.
It has been a long standing belief of mine that if anyone can find a way to make a ton of money from conservation, we'll see a heck of a lot more effort from the big corporations. So, anyone wanna save the world AND become a billionaire?
Now if only someone can find a way to extract some penile enhancement drug from mosquitoes, you'll see them making the endangered species list and the gratitude of half the human population on earth. Not bad, for a pay off eh?
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
UN-inspiration
The first week of the year, and I have noticed that my blog has dropped to being... trivial.
I reflect the first 2 weeks of the year, and I realized that I have only one thing to say. Something that is perhaps ripped off that Simon fellow in Americal Idol - uninspired.
Maybe it is the lethargy of the long holiday over December that spilled over, even now that I have been back to work. I was actually looking forward to coming back to work. Masochistic? Perhaps.
Over the last two weeks I feel a lack of a certain drive. I can feel the energy in me, but it lacks direction. I do not feel stimulus. Most things seem lacklusture and I seem to drift through my days not getting much done. The scary thing is, that I do not even feel a desire to shake myself out of this greyness.
When I was still in Judo, there were times where I feel that I can stand apart. Haven't you ever seem to be at two places at one time?A sensation of dislocation, and suddenly you become an observer, as well as physically being in it? I do that now, and look at myself typing on the keyboard, and wonder to myself what is causing this stagnation?
Notice how one comes alive in times of problems? All our five senses sharpen. The blood coursing through its channels, the brain switches to lightspeed, and oh, the adrenalin rush is absolutely amazing.
Problems are painful, stressful and they are NOT GOOD. They pick you right out of your comfort zone and throw you into the deep end with cement shoes. Yet one cannot but feel that the times when one is neck deep in merde is probably also when one feels ALIVE.
Strange isn't it? We seem crave challenge, we desire competition and it is only at our most distressed do we shine the most brightly. And my friends thought I was weird when I said I love exams when I was in school.
I think it's time to start looking for Fertilizer.
Let's try something different tomorrow. I'm waking up at 6:30, and see what happens.
I reflect the first 2 weeks of the year, and I realized that I have only one thing to say. Something that is perhaps ripped off that Simon fellow in Americal Idol - uninspired.
Maybe it is the lethargy of the long holiday over December that spilled over, even now that I have been back to work. I was actually looking forward to coming back to work. Masochistic? Perhaps.
Over the last two weeks I feel a lack of a certain drive. I can feel the energy in me, but it lacks direction. I do not feel stimulus. Most things seem lacklusture and I seem to drift through my days not getting much done. The scary thing is, that I do not even feel a desire to shake myself out of this greyness.
When I was still in Judo, there were times where I feel that I can stand apart. Haven't you ever seem to be at two places at one time?A sensation of dislocation, and suddenly you become an observer, as well as physically being in it? I do that now, and look at myself typing on the keyboard, and wonder to myself what is causing this stagnation?
Notice how one comes alive in times of problems? All our five senses sharpen. The blood coursing through its channels, the brain switches to lightspeed, and oh, the adrenalin rush is absolutely amazing.
Problems are painful, stressful and they are NOT GOOD. They pick you right out of your comfort zone and throw you into the deep end with cement shoes. Yet one cannot but feel that the times when one is neck deep in merde is probably also when one feels ALIVE.
Strange isn't it? We seem crave challenge, we desire competition and it is only at our most distressed do we shine the most brightly. And my friends thought I was weird when I said I love exams when I was in school.
I think it's time to start looking for Fertilizer.
Let's try something different tomorrow. I'm waking up at 6:30, and see what happens.
What is Your Seduction Style?
Your Seduction Style: The Charmer |
 You're a master at intimate conversation and verbal enticement. You seduce with words, by getting people to open up to you. By establishing this deep connection quickly, people feel under your power. And then you've got them exactly where you want them! |
Hmmm these tests are pretty accurate. I'm lethal with coffee. Wahaha!
OK, people! Try it and let me know your score!
How do you make US$1 Million in 5 months with just $100?
Impossible?
Look at this kid. Basket. Of all the inane, ridiculous, impossible things in the world, he's selling PIXELS?!!?!?!
It's like getting a hard disk and selling disk space to everyone in the world. FARK!
Damn this is an MTV moment.
PS. I have decided that MTV is filled with absolutely psychotic, absurd, overwhelmingly meaningless things, and things SO stupid, so far beyond a lack of sensibility that it's poked a hole and come out the other side. Don't believe me, take a chance and look at Aiya House, on MTV whatever things.
PPS. Question though, if I get a lobotomy, do I also get hot women? Might actually be a decent trade off...
Look at this kid. Basket. Of all the inane, ridiculous, impossible things in the world, he's selling PIXELS?!!?!?!
It's like getting a hard disk and selling disk space to everyone in the world. FARK!
Damn this is an MTV moment.
PS. I have decided that MTV is filled with absolutely psychotic, absurd, overwhelmingly meaningless things, and things SO stupid, so far beyond a lack of sensibility that it's poked a hole and come out the other side. Don't believe me, take a chance and look at Aiya House, on MTV whatever things.
PPS. Question though, if I get a lobotomy, do I also get hot women? Might actually be a decent trade off...
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
A Deep and Overwhelming Respect
When was the last time you talked to the person at the check-out counter?
The 7-11 near my place has an absolutely outstanding character, someone I KNOW, beyond the shadow of a doubt that he will become amazingly successful. In an extremely short time, and without a doubt. And he will be one of those people who's both successful, probably fairly rich, and very happy.
I started talking to him, because there was one night when I came back exhausted from work, and I wanted to get some Peel Fresh (Notice how they don't sell Peel Fresh Mango except in big department stores now?) and when I was paying, I noticed that this chap had an absolutely BRILLIANT smile on his face.
Now when was the last time you went to 7-11 at 11pm and the salesperson was actually HAPPY to see you? It was so amazing I started talking to him.
And talking... and talking... It was 2 hours later, when I left my neighbourhood 7-11 with a litre of Peel Fresh and a new friend.
In those 2 hours, virtually everyone that came into that little branch in the middle of nowhere called out a chirpy hello to him. And he likewise hollered out to each one of them by name. In those 2 hours, I met more of my neighbours than in 3 years in this neighbourhood.
He told me about what he wanted to do. He wants to make it in life. He's actually doing something about it. At that time, he runs a little advertising and events outfit with a few friends, and at night, it's the graveyard shift in 7-11 because after 2 years, you can "own" a 7-11 branch where one holds significant shares in one particular branch. I shared with him what I learnt from reading through some work from Jay Abraham.
Right now, this enterprising fellow let his events thing fallow, works in a big hotel's PR department in the day, and carries on at 7-11 at night. To top it off, he actually starting a little fishing supplies store in Hougang. And he took some of Jay Abraham to heart, and negotiated a 50% reduction in his shop rental.
RESPECT!
From this fellow, I rediscovered the meaning of passion. Putting one's heart and soul into his dreams. I questioned one more time what IS truly possible when a person has the courage, tenacity, WILL and passion to do keep moving forward. I see also the joy that comes with vividly working towards one's goals, and doing so with a big radiant grin on his face. I am also reminded that just knowing is not good enough. And it's not hard to apply knowledge. All it takes a little balls, a little bit of thick skin, and a willingness to experiment.
As contradictory as it sounds, I am grateful to be given this opportunity to be humbled. And I am encouraged and thankful to know this great man in a 7-Eleven uniform, and unquenchable spirit.
If you are reading this Hermi, I want you to thank you my friend, for doing what you do. I have no doubt that you will be outstandingly successful, you will achieve your dreams and be exceedingly happy with life. I thank you for being an inspiration and a constant reminder of the enormous potential just by being you.
I also want to thank you for giving me a chance to know all my neighbours, and for bringing closer a group of people with no other similarity than a need for a midnight chocolate bar, or juice at ungodly hours.
Rock On!
The 7-11 near my place has an absolutely outstanding character, someone I KNOW, beyond the shadow of a doubt that he will become amazingly successful. In an extremely short time, and without a doubt. And he will be one of those people who's both successful, probably fairly rich, and very happy.
I started talking to him, because there was one night when I came back exhausted from work, and I wanted to get some Peel Fresh (Notice how they don't sell Peel Fresh Mango except in big department stores now?) and when I was paying, I noticed that this chap had an absolutely BRILLIANT smile on his face.
Now when was the last time you went to 7-11 at 11pm and the salesperson was actually HAPPY to see you? It was so amazing I started talking to him.
And talking... and talking... It was 2 hours later, when I left my neighbourhood 7-11 with a litre of Peel Fresh and a new friend.
In those 2 hours, virtually everyone that came into that little branch in the middle of nowhere called out a chirpy hello to him. And he likewise hollered out to each one of them by name. In those 2 hours, I met more of my neighbours than in 3 years in this neighbourhood.
He told me about what he wanted to do. He wants to make it in life. He's actually doing something about it. At that time, he runs a little advertising and events outfit with a few friends, and at night, it's the graveyard shift in 7-11 because after 2 years, you can "own" a 7-11 branch where one holds significant shares in one particular branch. I shared with him what I learnt from reading through some work from Jay Abraham.
Right now, this enterprising fellow let his events thing fallow, works in a big hotel's PR department in the day, and carries on at 7-11 at night. To top it off, he actually starting a little fishing supplies store in Hougang. And he took some of Jay Abraham to heart, and negotiated a 50% reduction in his shop rental.
RESPECT!
From this fellow, I rediscovered the meaning of passion. Putting one's heart and soul into his dreams. I questioned one more time what IS truly possible when a person has the courage, tenacity, WILL and passion to do keep moving forward. I see also the joy that comes with vividly working towards one's goals, and doing so with a big radiant grin on his face. I am also reminded that just knowing is not good enough. And it's not hard to apply knowledge. All it takes a little balls, a little bit of thick skin, and a willingness to experiment.
As contradictory as it sounds, I am grateful to be given this opportunity to be humbled. And I am encouraged and thankful to know this great man in a 7-Eleven uniform, and unquenchable spirit.
If you are reading this Hermi, I want you to thank you my friend, for doing what you do. I have no doubt that you will be outstandingly successful, you will achieve your dreams and be exceedingly happy with life. I thank you for being an inspiration and a constant reminder of the enormous potential just by being you.
I also want to thank you for giving me a chance to know all my neighbours, and for bringing closer a group of people with no other similarity than a need for a midnight chocolate bar, or juice at ungodly hours.
Rock On!
Monday, January 09, 2006
How True...
Got this in the mail for quote of the day.
"There are three things I have always loved, and never understood - painting, music, women"
- Fontenelle French Scientist and Man of Letter
"There are three things I have always loved, and never understood - painting, music, women"
- Fontenelle French Scientist and Man of Letter
Salsa Event at Union
There is some hot salsa event at Union tonight, so if you dawgs are going down, DO SO! I'm gonna put up one of my rare appearances there tonite... Cheers!
Interacting With Famous Folks
I wrote this during sermon today. Yeah, I know it's not right, but Friday night at MOS, and given that the sermon for today is a lot of rehashing old ground, my mind drifted. And so did my pen, it seems.
And here were my thoughts in the afternoon:
Poor famous types. I think they really have it rough.
First off, everyone is scrutinizing their actions in public and so they can never really cut loose and have fun.
Then they have to deal with hangers-on and if they are themselves to everyone, some leeches just never let go.
Be warm and you encourage the "stickers" no end. Be aloof and be seen as stuck up.
Damned if you do, damned if you don't. Heck, damned if you can't decide either way.
That being said, how does one truly start a conversation with a public figure? As you would everyone else? Probably, but it's not easy being feeling just a little intimidated, especially if they have their "game face" or "public face" on.
I mean, after thinking long and hard, I have finally figured out what I'd say to LKY, that is, if i ever do see him face to face. "Sir, you have my deepest respect. But I still think you're a bastard."
It's true, that is exactly how I feel about him, and the most condensed means by which to deliver it.
The rest?
Celebrities, television and radio personalities, and political figures and the rest of them. I mean, there aren't many common areas to discuss... are there?
How do I carry a conversation when I am not even sure where to start? And before I actually talk to the person, there is the "game face" to get through first?
I guess I'll have to take a page from Hitch. Call the bluff.
"Now why is it that folks like that don't get it? You're sending all the right signals, sitting alone, reading glasses with no book in sight, heels under 2 inches. And if that is not enough, there's that big "FUCK OFF" sign stamped across your forehead."
"I mean, how can it be possible that there is someone here who can actually engage in a normal conversation, and actually be interested in the words that are coming out of your mouth?"
Sometimes conversation even seems like a game, or a sparring ground, or a test. Verbal fencing, putting up walls, laying siege or surgical strikes. It's almost inevitable that walls come up, and then the other party tries to penetrate or get around it.
And in my first ever, and probably last trip into the MoS member's lounge, I was seeing walls all over the place. And well, that night, I was in the mood to dance, have a good conversation instead of having to deal with this. It was an interesting study of people there though, keeping quiet and watching.
I think I'll go spring that Hitch line on some atas type the next time I go there, or see anyone putting on airs... Watch out world!
And here were my thoughts in the afternoon:
Poor famous types. I think they really have it rough.
First off, everyone is scrutinizing their actions in public and so they can never really cut loose and have fun.
Then they have to deal with hangers-on and if they are themselves to everyone, some leeches just never let go.
Be warm and you encourage the "stickers" no end. Be aloof and be seen as stuck up.
Damned if you do, damned if you don't. Heck, damned if you can't decide either way.
That being said, how does one truly start a conversation with a public figure? As you would everyone else? Probably, but it's not easy being feeling just a little intimidated, especially if they have their "game face" or "public face" on.
I mean, after thinking long and hard, I have finally figured out what I'd say to LKY, that is, if i ever do see him face to face. "Sir, you have my deepest respect. But I still think you're a bastard."
It's true, that is exactly how I feel about him, and the most condensed means by which to deliver it.
The rest?
Celebrities, television and radio personalities, and political figures and the rest of them. I mean, there aren't many common areas to discuss... are there?
How do I carry a conversation when I am not even sure where to start? And before I actually talk to the person, there is the "game face" to get through first?
I guess I'll have to take a page from Hitch. Call the bluff.
"Now why is it that folks like that don't get it? You're sending all the right signals, sitting alone, reading glasses with no book in sight, heels under 2 inches. And if that is not enough, there's that big "FUCK OFF" sign stamped across your forehead."
"I mean, how can it be possible that there is someone here who can actually engage in a normal conversation, and actually be interested in the words that are coming out of your mouth?"
Sometimes conversation even seems like a game, or a sparring ground, or a test. Verbal fencing, putting up walls, laying siege or surgical strikes. It's almost inevitable that walls come up, and then the other party tries to penetrate or get around it.
And in my first ever, and probably last trip into the MoS member's lounge, I was seeing walls all over the place. And well, that night, I was in the mood to dance, have a good conversation instead of having to deal with this. It was an interesting study of people there though, keeping quiet and watching.
I think I'll go spring that Hitch line on some atas type the next time I go there, or see anyone putting on airs... Watch out world!
Sunday, January 08, 2006
Before the Storm
I love rainy days. The one thing I like more than the rain, is the time just before the rain comes down.
That feeling of static in the air. Expectation, anticipation. It almost seems as if the world is waiting for something to happen.
A faint smell of ozone, the rumble of thunder rolling in from the distance. The heavy, almost sticky moistness of the air giving way to a breath of faraway freshness every time the breeze stirs.
I always take a moment to close my eyes, and take breath in, I can feel my body fill with POTENTIALITY. I feel the energy in me rise, straining at the leash, just waiting to be unleashed. My fingers and toes tingle, the veins in my body roar silently, and the flow seems smooth, continuous, endless.
And when I breathe out, the confined flow spreads out to every pore. Not peace, but a certain stillness, like the calm before the storm. With every breath, the sensation mounts, building layer upon layer.
It is a fine balance, between control and absolute abandon. The thin line, that endless instant. And the first drop of rain falls, and the dam holding the flood breaks.
That feeling of static in the air. Expectation, anticipation. It almost seems as if the world is waiting for something to happen.
A faint smell of ozone, the rumble of thunder rolling in from the distance. The heavy, almost sticky moistness of the air giving way to a breath of faraway freshness every time the breeze stirs.
I always take a moment to close my eyes, and take breath in, I can feel my body fill with POTENTIALITY. I feel the energy in me rise, straining at the leash, just waiting to be unleashed. My fingers and toes tingle, the veins in my body roar silently, and the flow seems smooth, continuous, endless.
And when I breathe out, the confined flow spreads out to every pore. Not peace, but a certain stillness, like the calm before the storm. With every breath, the sensation mounts, building layer upon layer.
It is a fine balance, between control and absolute abandon. The thin line, that endless instant. And the first drop of rain falls, and the dam holding the flood breaks.
Friday, January 06, 2006
Illegitimis non carborundum
Sounds damn Cheem right?
In pidgin pseudo latin, it means "Don't let those bastards get you down". Read about the history here.
So nice... I think I'll get it designed and tattooed. Maybe it'll even replace the idea of getting a no-entry sign put on my butt...
In pidgin pseudo latin, it means "Don't let those bastards get you down". Read about the history here.
So nice... I think I'll get it designed and tattooed. Maybe it'll even replace the idea of getting a no-entry sign put on my butt...
Thursday, January 05, 2006
A RE-found friend
I just stumbled on a long-lost friend when I was blog-surfing. I am absolutely ecstatic!
Worked with her in BCA, and then after that drifted off when I left and she went off to study Down Under.
When she came back last year, I was busy as heck with my work.
MEEES TAN! How's OZ???
I am booking you for June when you come back, understand? You do NOT leave until you have had coffee with Da Man!
Ok, back to work.
Worked with her in BCA, and then after that drifted off when I left and she went off to study Down Under.
When she came back last year, I was busy as heck with my work.
MEEES TAN! How's OZ???
I am booking you for June when you come back, understand? You do NOT leave until you have had coffee with Da Man!
Ok, back to work.
What Gender is your BRAIN?
| Your Brain is 46.67% Female, 53.33% Male |
Your brain is a healthy mix of male and female You are both sensitive and savvy Rational and reasonable, you tend to keep level headed But you also tend to wear your heart on your sleeve |
I knew IT. I absolutely KNEW IT! I am THE most balanced individual on earth. HAHAHA!
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
Gathering my Thoughts
So many things to write about, so little time. This is just to focus my thoughts, cos it's been a little scattered lately.
1. Racism
2. Harnessing Emotions
3. A Brand New Year
4. The Aftermath of Parties
5. The Weight of Geniuses
OK, back to work.
1. Racism
2. Harnessing Emotions
3. A Brand New Year
4. The Aftermath of Parties
5. The Weight of Geniuses
OK, back to work.
Human Feelings
An excerpt from Isaac Asimov - "Foundation and Empire"
"To him, a stilted geometric love of arrangement was 'system', an indefatigable and feverish interest in the pettiest facets of day to day bureaucracy was 'industry', indecision when right was 'caution', and blind stubbornness when wrong was 'determination.'"
Oh how true to the average human situation.
"To him, a stilted geometric love of arrangement was 'system', an indefatigable and feverish interest in the pettiest facets of day to day bureaucracy was 'industry', indecision when right was 'caution', and blind stubbornness when wrong was 'determination.'"
Oh how true to the average human situation.
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Learning from Sitcoms
You think it can't be done. It can. It is possible. In fact, some of the more subtle, or controversial lessons are best put forth through laughter and stories.
I read this in the morning. It's a startling reminder for me, because yesterday night, I was watching "Married to the Kellys", the same point was made.
What point is that? How rare it is for people to have the courage to actually stand up and say "this is what I love to do, and I am going to DO IT". It is amazing. Oh sure, so many people pay lip service to "living my dream". Usually it's followed by "later".
When it comes down to the crunch, how many of us will actually has the clarity to know what it is we want to do, and then actually do it?
How many of us because of what has happened in our lives forget our dreams, and live out our lives caught in limbo, neither completely depressed, but never truly happy? Just ok.
OK, an excuse to just remain in status quo. In a situation like this, I rather the person be ignorant of his dreams. Because if he knows how far he can go, if he knows what he wants to do, and how he can do it, AND HE DOES NOT DO IT - He'll spend his life less than happy.
It is not common to have folks doing what they love, and getting paid for it. But hey, if you truly ARE doing what you love, with some thought, you truly CAN get someone to pay you for it. Don't believe me? Try it and see.
I read this in the morning. It's a startling reminder for me, because yesterday night, I was watching "Married to the Kellys", the same point was made.
What point is that? How rare it is for people to have the courage to actually stand up and say "this is what I love to do, and I am going to DO IT". It is amazing. Oh sure, so many people pay lip service to "living my dream". Usually it's followed by "later".
When it comes down to the crunch, how many of us will actually has the clarity to know what it is we want to do, and then actually do it?
How many of us because of what has happened in our lives forget our dreams, and live out our lives caught in limbo, neither completely depressed, but never truly happy? Just ok.
OK, an excuse to just remain in status quo. In a situation like this, I rather the person be ignorant of his dreams. Because if he knows how far he can go, if he knows what he wants to do, and how he can do it, AND HE DOES NOT DO IT - He'll spend his life less than happy.
It is not common to have folks doing what they love, and getting paid for it. But hey, if you truly ARE doing what you love, with some thought, you truly CAN get someone to pay you for it. Don't believe me? Try it and see.
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