Took Q-tip to Kasey to get her microchip implant. It's unlikely that we'll lose her, since she'll always be wherever we have left her -- not that she's so deadset faithful, but that she's too scared to jump off whatever perch we've parked her on -- but it's best to be careful, anyway.

The implant is a tiny RFID chip that holds a unique identification number so that the person the number is registered to is indisputably the rightful owner of the dog, so there. It's great for identifying a lost pet, but it also makes dog abandonment a futile exercise, in case anyone could ever be so inhumanely inclined.

Kasey showed us the applicator, a small syringe-like device with a big, fat needle, about as thick as the one they use on us when we're donating blood. Yipes! On a little dog like Q-tip, that has gotta hurt.

We agreed to stay and help Kasey with the procedure. We held Q-tip's head steady while Kasey pulled up the skin on the scruff of her neck, where dogs are least likely to feel pain. The needle went in and out, and it was all over. So fast. And Q-tip doesn't seem to be feeling any distress or discomfort from the experience.

I wonder... now that all licensed dogs are "highly encouraged" to be thus chipped, could the military have a remote control device to recruit an army of canine "volunteers" should any hostilities break out?

Edit01:
Ooh! What a stoopid headline!
"Officers find ecstasy in Mr. Potato Head" Must have had a deprived childhood...

Whether we give too much attention to paper qualifications was the topic of discussion among Maddy, HH and me this morning. Consultation with the kids does sometimes bring up eye-opening observations. Despite our insistence on presenting a 'balanced' viewpoint in our essays, it was difficult to resist arguing that this situation exactly describes how maniacally obsessed we are over our certs, degrees and other black-and-white acknowledgments of our skills and accomplishments...

No point completing a long and boring essay discussion here, so only if interested, ok? Click.

Hope Mary will pull through the next few days ok. She got tix for us to LaSalle's "Oh! What a Lovely War!" but while driving to meet us, she knocked over a motorcyclist. The guy hurt his arm and was shaken up, but fortunately, nothing worse. Now she's going through the necessary reporting stages, investigation, and whatever else.

Meantime, our dinner and show plans carried on as usual. We met Jen and Adrian at Sketches for a quick pasta meal. Jen generously shared her voluptuously juicy sausage that went with her spaghetti.

"OWLW!" was quite a slick, professional production by the students of the drama school. The house opened with the chorus streaming out into the lobby area to personally invite the audience in. There was no opening curtain as the cast was already performing a selection of WW1 songs while the audience was still finding their seats. With such high energy from the outset, I knew we were in for a great show.

It was quite the history lesson on the First World War, seen from the viewpoints of the various European nations involved. We got an insight into the political and industrial leadership's motivations for the war, as well as look into the lives and attitudes the commoners at home, and the soldiers in the trenches.

It was uncomfortable as the sober realities of the horror that was WW1 were brought home to us through comic sketches, songs of the period, a backdrop slideshow of old b&w photographs, and simple mass dance movements. I was thinking that if anyone was studying up on WW1, this show would provide a nice, broad overview.

The use of the different European accents might make it a little inaccessible to our local audience though, especially if they're not used to 'Allo 'Allo. The tech was also a little off, with some of the action taking place in the dark, and occasionally the lights came on late.

Regardless, there is a lot of talent in these students. They ensemble cast played well together, to deliver a highly polished production. The guy with the megaphone had me scratching my head a bit, though. What exactly was his role, being cast so anomalously in relation to the period and the other characters? Both in and out of the ensemble, my best guess is that he is the audience's anchor to that distant conflagration so long ago.

My usually bimbotic entries have temporarily given way to issues with slightly more political overtones.I'm probably suffering from an overdose of KI critical thinking paper marking and it's carrying over into my off-duty hours.

Well, since I'm at it, I know a couple of people who have things to say about the political nastiness going on in Myanmar, so while I recover my own wits, I'll let them take centrestage for a while:

Meet Leounheort, who's all fire and brimstone about the injustices taking place up there and how we're implicated in the mess due to our money-grubbing "bizness" and other ties with the junta heads up there.

And here's ST writer, Keane. No, I don't know him personally, but he suggests a bottom-up approach to resolving the crisis which is novel and less confrontational. What do you expect from ST, right?

Interesting that Ms Yu-Foo asserts that "women in their 20s now earn 98 per cent of what their male counterparts do." It's even more interesting that the respondents to the ST report would get all indignant about it. NS shortchanges our guys in terms of their pay and career prospects? I don't think so.

If Ms Yu-Foo's assertion was meant to show how we're closing the gender gap in wages and work, we need a reality check. Because of 2 years' NS, women get a headstart on their careers, while the men discharge their national obligations. Chronologically, women start work or continue their education at the university at 18, while the men can only start at 20. So women have 2 years' seniority over their male counterparts, and yet are still earning 2% less than a man who is just landing an entry-level position at his first job.

It's even more disturbing to consider Ms Yu-Foo's observation that our female grads outnumber our male grads. A female grad with 2 year's seniority over her non-grad male counterpart earns 2% less than him while they are in their 20s? I'm no Math major, but somehow that doesn't sound at all equal to me.

But a more important consideration of wage equality would be the gap between male and female earnings as we grow older. I'd like some data on that before I agree that we have indeed closed the wage gap between the genders in S'pore.

Where the guys are really losing out is in their academic achievement, if what Ms Yu-Foo says about us having more female than male grads is true. That means that more women are in a better position to advance in their careers than men because they have the necessary qualifications to do so. Education does seem to be the Great Equalizer of social disparity in the long term.

So, guys, if ya wanna be lazy, slack off, and don't study, then don't complain when a girl overtakes you on the career track. Understand?

We are approaching the last leg of our 18 month tour. The final stretch before another batch of JC kids take their final exam and, nothing personal, but we hope to never see them again... except perhaps as future colleagues or if they return with valuable tribute in gratitude to the ones who have set them on the path to their success. Right.

This is the last 100m sprint to the finish line, and the good news is that whether each student crosses the line in great vigour and strength, or limps across battered and bruised from falling face first into the mud once too often, everybody wins! And in this final stretch, we staff will be pushing, pressuring, cussing, cajoling, waving pom-poms, whatever -- anything to keep spirits and confidence up so that as many of our students as possible will find the courage to make this last effort to finish well.

The majority will, as they do every year. But this stage of preparation is also like the eve of a major battle. In the gathering gloom, faces aglow in the flickering campfire light, the Commander will "proclaim...

That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse;
We would not die in that man’s company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.

(Henry V, 4.3)

This too is the reality of the task we are all facing. There will be those who for one reason or another are still deficient in the training, the focus and the courage to do what's necessary to ensure victory, or even their own survival. They shouldn't be tested if they haven't earned the right to be tested.

These next few weeks will be crucial to all our JC2s. If you commit to the fight, then you bloody well FIGHT! Each subject you take is a front you must attack to your last breath, no giving up, no giving way. If you waver now, you might as well go home now. Choose.

Finally took Cat up on her lunch offer today. It was great to see her & Sam, Joyce, and Joyce's little 'un, Jun, a reunion of sorts of people who once spent a lot of time in each other's company. Dan was celebrating his daughter's birthday so he couldn't join us. And Googling around, I found Nic who's now a corporate head in the ad industry in KL, a whole capital city away. So perhaps the old YU alumni (though Sam's actually from UT) might actually start meeting each other more regularly, now that we've sort of reestablished contact.

I was last in TO in '92, and in 15 years, we're married and a couple of us have kids. But the last decade and a half, for me at least, feels like no time has passed at all. Yet so much has changed, and we no longer have a common campus or church to keep us together any longer. It'll be will and goodwill, and email(!) that'll keep us in touch with each other now.

Our afternoon began at Brewski's. Location happenin' but not overcrowded, central enough for all of us to get to, food of good variety, quality and value. Seeking dessert, we moved from there to Dempsey Road, Cat's preferred stomping grounds. Dempsey Road is a huge knowledge gap for me and June. The rustic charm of the expansive converted army camp promises intriguing eating and exotic shopping and demands further exploration.

From the various choices available, Jun decided for us that we wanted Ben & Jerry's. The outlet here is like a countryside barn, all wood and some cast-iron supports. It was packed and noisy, with an electric atmosphere, more than what I'd expected on a lazy Sunday. The youthful staff were smiley, friendly and warm. Great place to while the afternoon away, catching up on old friends and acquaintances (what? no! really?), while our ice-creams melted slowly in front of us.

The quick snapshot here shows (L-R) Joyce, Jun (see the resemblance?) and Cat. See y'all again real soon, 'k?

There's a lot of anger and fear over our CPF changes. A lot of questions about what the govt is doing with our money, making us buy a compulsory annuity which we can only cash out if we survive past 85, and how many of us are likely to do that?

It's like a bet: we all put our money in a common pot and if we make it past five years as an octogenarian, we win and we can take our share (plus interest) back in monthly installments. If we don't make it, well, that's the nature of gambling -- win some, lose some. Sure, S'poreans make a national pastime of 4-D and Toto, but who'd have thought CPF would be the latest game S'pore Pools is offering?

I dunno. I'm not really into that debate at the moment. I have more pressing concerns about my CPF. Like how my personal CPF contribution to our housing loan is practically servicing only the loan interest, while June's contribution can only put a tiny dent per month on the principal. And next month, the interest rate is going to be revised again, more likely up than down.

What this works out to is that a truckload of my money doesn't belong to me, but it does pay for my right to own a house... eventually. It's a loss making proposition since the market for my location isn't likely to return to the high, heady time that it was when we bought it. So barring any unforseen incident, we'll be staying put for a while.

This morning, we were at our local HDB office transferring a large chunk of our accumulated CPF to reduce our loan to 10 years from 18. That's 8 year's worth of interest saved, if I calculate correctly.

10 more years to pay for my flat, then maybe I can start worrying about whatever money I have left to retire on.

It's not just us abandoning pets any more! They're doing it in the US too! With domestic rabbits! *shakes head and wonders what the world's coming to. Click here. Thank goodness for animal rescue volunteers, both here and there.

Canis domesticus has suddenly leaped onto the endangered species list. Owners of unlicensed dogs now facing a tenfold increase in fines for the offence have devised a brilliant workaround their predicament: abandon their dogs before the revised law kicks in.

How ironic that a law revised to offer more protection to our pets has resulted in more cruelty to them instead. Couple of issues here: rigid, over-reactive laws designed more to punish than help the situation, and people who would rather save themselves and their money than be responsible for their own pets.

But it's the latter issue that probably caused the former. As people who are urbanizing over what used to be natural habitats of other species, we've been losing sense of our interconnectedness with the plants and animals that form more than just the backdrop of our existance. When they get expensive or inconvenient, we get rid of them like we get rid of garbage.

But a punitive law with such a heavy penalty isn't helping make this situation any better. All the more we've made keeping pets an even more expensive proposition. No one wants to pay for an annual license. They are going to want to pay a $5k fine even less.

Law and punishment won't solve a problem if we don't address the root causes of the problem. Penalizing people isn't going to make them respect their responsibilities. Some dumb idiot abandoned what looks like a pomeranian which somehow wound up on the central divider of the TPE! Charitable assumption: dog somehow ran across the highway from wherever it got abandoned. Uncharitable assumption: dog got abandoned where it got found, owner hoping that a passing vehicle would put the ex-pet out of its misery.

Why do we feel the Govt is always controlling our lives when what we've got is really what we deserve? A little more thoughtfulness towards our fellow beings, people, please! We don't need a Draconian legal system to keep us in line, just a measure of common sense and a little empathy towards others, human or otherwise.

"Censorship is the best defence against unwholesome values. Discuss." Yes, another outline.

I think for an 800 word essay, this one is unbelievably difficult to write. Censorship only limits access to specific content in the mass media. It's really hard to link "content" with "values" without some kind of extensive waffling because the two are obviously not the same thing.

I'm not entirely happy with this outline, especially the way I brought in the idea of "education" from nowhere, and some of the connections are more convenient than considered. It's even a little vague and unrealistic. But what can you do with such a minuscule word limit?

Oh, in case anyone asks why my "outlines" are as long as an acceptable GP essay, it's because they're really outlines for a much larger research paper. Get the hint, KIds?

Edit:
Forgot to mention that M2 went for his 50k servicing. Now he handles a little better, pickup's a little faster, purrs smoother. Wonder if the effect is just psychosomatic?

I think it was Cat who got me where I am today. I recall way back in '91, when we were still young and irresponsible students, she said to me, "why don't you go and teach in a JC?" Who knew it would take nearly a decade of aimless wandering around in the wilderness before her throwaway suggestion would become prophecy?

Thanks, Cat. Now I'm swamped up to my eyeballs with marking; reports, outlines and reviews clawing at my back; vetting of testimonials (SGCs they call 'em now -- same animal, new cage); prelim casualties to comfort and admonish while juggling the inevitable pre-finals consultations that are about to recommence; and a dozen other ad hoc things to accomplish before the year-end hols.

Ah, to be an irresponsible student again...

Whole day spent on drawing up essay outlines and writing exam markers' reports, although according to my schedule perhaps most of what I did was a little premature. I'm confused...

Anyway, while I'm at it, here's another essay outline to bore you to tears with:

"Consider the importance of skepticism in society today." Click here.

The mooncake festival is here again. M-i-L got busy and whipped up a bunch of mooncakes and pig-in-a-basket cookies which also come in the shape of goldfish and, these days, Ultraman.

Due to the recent recall of tainted salted eggs, this year M-i-L's "golden yolk" mooncakes are extremely limited in supply. There are none in this batch here.

That's also the reason why the mooncakes here are smaller than usual. Without the savoriness of the egg yolk, the sweet taste of the bean paste filling would become monotonous very quickly. Besides, they look cuter like this.

Just staggered home from the "Planet Terror" marathon at GV Plaza. It's actually Tarantino's Grindhouse double-bill of "Death Proof" and "Planet Terror" that are usually packaged together and meant to be viewed in one sitting. Here in S'pore, the two movies got split up and sold individually, except for tonight's screening at which we could watch both as was originally intended.

Tix pricing was exorbitant, though part of the cost was to cover our "unlimited" supply of popcorn and Coke... which we couldn't take much advantage of because there's only so much of the stuff we can input before it starts generating negative returns.

The movies themselves, well... what's not to like? Babes with guns, babes in fast muscle cars, babes turning the tables on their dumb, macho oppressors; babes fighting and surviving nicely thank you very much against unbelievable odds. Whether it's hunted tuning hunter against a psycho stalker (Death Proof) or victim turning survivor against an ever increasing hoard of disease-ridden zombies (Planet Terror), it's just fun watching babes find strength within themselves, and put even their most "useless" talents to good use.

Earlier this morning, back in the real world, we spent a small fortune taking our animals to the vet. The cats got their shots while Q-tip went for teeth scaling. Combined, June & I spent nearly $400 making sure our family was healthy. Careful as we are, there's nothing like getting a professional opinion in case we missed anything.

Nothing unusual, though Kasey's professional eye saw that we could still take better care of them. Cats have a little hair-chewing, non-transferable, lice problem, while Q-tip's dental plaque build-up has resulted in a few loose teeth which we need to take action on.

Pet ownership is an expensive proposition. Don't get a pet if you're not prepared for this.

Alvin confirmed his place at our breakfast table with his amazing Excel spreadsheet. It was a work of pure genius, allowing us to key in our orders for McD's breakfast meals and immediately tally our outstanding payment from our own terminals in the staffroom. With a comprehensive list of our demands, it was easy for him to place a mass order for us; a lifesaving gesture on his part, as the canteen was closed today.

Meantime, I've had my prelim marking temporarily interrupted to give my attention to shooting D NY EL's farewell messages to our JC2s. The bulk of our shoot caused quite a bit of inconvenience to the staff not involved 'cos I didn't want any incidentals popping up unexpectedly on camera and forcing an unnecessary retake. The shoot took about an hour split over two sessions today, no more, so I hope to be forgiven for the disruption to the [serious] work schedule... someday.

Still, some shots simply could not be used. I had problems with continuity, poor composition and pacing, and they basically looked weird, not quite complementary with the main storyline, if we may call it that. Have to do some quick improvisation on Mon if I'm gonna meet the Wed deadline

Dinner was at Sunset, finally, after planning to drop by for several weeks now. Amazingly, quite a number of us (and our dates) found this evening to be free. Even more amazingly, Josh and Jo couldn't, even though they were the ones most hoping to go this time around. But Sunset is beautiful, the prices are quite reasonable, and there is every reason for us to make another trip up. Better luck next time!

Have to give IJ credit for trying out a more argumentative, critical-thinking approach to GP, even if it was only for an academic study.

"The aim was to enable students to engage more effectively in critical thinking as they explored different perspectives, concretised their arguments, and analysed the strengths and weaknesses of each other's arguments and underlying assumptions - skills required in both the essay and the Application Question components of GP."

The theory appears sound enough. GP's stock-in-trade is argumentation. We look at ideas, events and phenomena from multiple perspectives, recognizing that not all these diverse views are entirely reasonable. For reasons such as experiential or cultural prejudice, lack of knowledge, or perhaps even because of a personal agenda, people perceive and interpret the things that go on around them differently from one another. It is the stronger folk that try to persuade others to see things their way in order to initiate some action in order to salvage or exploit the situation as they see fit.

These are the arguments we all get blasted with daily. Politicians, scientists, clergy, enterprise, yes, even educators and parents all communicate with us through presenting arguments -- some more formally and more skillfully than others -- but they all tell us to go do something, eat something, wear something, buy something, and so on. For a teenager, all these arguments can appear conflicting, and worse, because they are usually voiced by an authority figure, they sound more like orders and instructions rather than simply appeals for positive support.

If teens feel they have no freedom, and no choices to make, it's usually because they are unable to prioritize all these diverse arguments but instead see them all as equally important, and hence, get stretched apart running, jumping through hoops, fetching and carrying for whoever assaults them with the loudest voice first.

By teaching argumentation and critical thinking in GP, that should be the first step to our teens learning to empower themselves to sieve through their various stimuli, analyze their situation and take action based on their own decision-making processes. This, ultimately, is teaching our teens to fish for themselves, rather than us staff catching, preparing, de-boning, and offering our ungrateful children our best fish dishes all the time. We continue doing this for our kids and we shouldn't be surprised that all they do is pick at their food and all they return to us is excrement in the form of poorly thought out essays and compre papers. Garbage in, garbage out.

Ok. Easy to say. Why aren't my kids performing any better, since I seem to have all the answers? Simple. I don't have the loudest voice.

The pioneer batch of KIds have submitted their Independent Study (IS) research papers. I think there is definitely a difference in the quality of the 2500-3000 word K&I essays I've received, and the 500-800 word GP essays I'm currently marking. Odd thing is, neither I nor NBS have really hand-held the KIds through their IS -- it is an Independent Study, after all -- and they've shown quite a level of motivation, even enthusiasm in getting their task done, whereas we've been teaching our brains out at GP, but I doubt many of the GP kids could produce anything like the K&I IS even at this stage.

How our IS papers compare with other JCs', I wouldn't know. But K&I's emphasis on purposeful research and personal responsibility for knowledge acquisition seems to have pushed the KIds' writing capabilities up a notch from the usual GP standard.

Is it innate in the KIds themselves, that they are already predisposed to cope with such pressure, stress and rigour? Or could it be the nature of the subject, that by setting higher expectations the students stretch themselves further to meet those expectations?

Or could K&I really demonstrate that the industry's "teach less, learn more" guideline actually has some merit? Guess it's up to Cambridge now to put some numbers to what is right now merely speculative thinking.

Good luck with your submissions, KIds!

Today was Lorenzo's one-day-only sale. We were in the market for a new bed frame. Our current one is getting awfully rickety. For some reason, the headboard joints have been getting increasingly loose, and it feels like it'll collapse pretty soon with one more false move.

It's not our safety we're concerned about, but rather Q-tip's. She loves to sleep under the bed, and if there should be a sudden nocturnal falling apart, we're going to end up with one slightly flattened mini-maltese.

Lorenzo has very chic looking beds, all angular with clean lines, and probably great for creating a Zen ambiance. But that is also the problem. Such hard angles are a potential health hazard for people who have to walk between the light switch and their "side" of the bed. I've already stubbed my toe several times on the current bed, but the higher corners on the Lorenzo beds offer bruised shins and knees apart from the usual digit damage. And, as June pointed out, because the bed frame is covered in a leather layer, it'll become a tempting new scratching post for our cats.

So despite the sale, we gave Lorenzo a miss.

We did, however, blow a wad on a Scanteak bed frame, the design of which is surprisingly not that dissimilar to our current one. All teak, nothing to claw at, and seems stable enough so Q-tip can sleep with a little more security at night. For what we paid for it, we hope it'll last 10 years or more.

While the prelims are on, we have just been focused on marking our papers and using the time to write our comments in more detail on each script that passes through our hands.

The kids of this year have been more diligent and studious than I've ever encountered before. Most of my scripts show that the kids have been reading their notes and have been paying attention during their lectures, and quite a number have been keeping up with the news as well. At least content-wise they're showing promise.

So, they have amassed a nice pile of Lego bricks to build answers with. The difficulty for them now is fitting the pieces together as the question requires. Some concepts they have a better grasp of than others. Environmental issues they seem ok with 'cos they're mostly straightforward cause-effect principles. But the kids writing on the censorship issue have been turning in essays comprising ill-fitting bits, looking quite skeletal and grotesque in nature. I shouldn't be surprised; censorship is a pretty abstract concept, especially if the question requires them to discuss its effectiveness against unwholesome values. Let's not even talk about the question on scepticism, an even more abstract concept.

While the kids have been kuai with their input, their unquestioning acceptance of everything we've shoveled at them suggests that in the next few weeks before the 'A's, we have to work on their processing, helping them to understand their content better, and in some cases, update their content as well. Quoting case studies from the '60s and '70s just seems a little dated. But at least they know their case studies.

While getai was getting an '881' makeover in the '60s in S'pore, over on the other side of the world America was waking up to a rebellion of music and dance against the white-dominated conservative values of a decade before. Welcome to Baltimore, Maryland, a nondescript town in one of the tiniest of the US States, and the setting for 'Hairspray'.

'881' was a nostalgic reflection on Hokkien music which has not really grown out of its niche and is currently being kept alive primarily as entertainment for the Dead (no, I don't mean Deadheads, duh. I do literally mean our dearly departed during the annual 7th month summer break from the afterlife). The story focuses on the divisiveness of the music, and how rival getai singers compete with one another through music, dance and costume as they backstab, badmouth and brawl their way to the top of their circuit.

'Hairspray' looks at rock & roll, the springboard for the kind of music heard around the world today, and the common ancestor of black music and white music as we know them today. In the US, rock & roll underscores some major changes in the lives of the American people. Some changes were frivolous and transient (fashion, hairstyle, dance moves), but others impacted on the values of society as a part of a fundamental shift in the way people lived (e.g., racial integration, the idea that "being different" is no longer an obstacle to achieving one's dreams).

Both movies say a lot about our two very different cultures. Over here, we see threats and competition all over the place. For us, the only way to the top is through tooth and claw and the sweat of our brows. Over in 'Hairspray', change centres around plus-sized Tracy Turnblad, whose irrepressible optimism and talent for turning adversity into opportunity makes her a natural stereotype breaker in modest-town Baltimore.

As in '881', Tracy aims to win a contest -- a real one with crown and contract, compared to '881's totally imaginary self-imposed one -- but the contest becomes secondary for her as she embraces a cause even larger than herself. Determined as she is to break into TV as a dancer despite her non-TV friendly proportions ("this show isn't broadcast in Cinemascope," is one of the nastier comments she receives from fellow dancer, Amber Von Tussle, her biggest critic on the show), she jeopardises her dreams to march in a demonstration advocating racial integration because "it's the right thing to do."

Both musicals are highly entertaining, employing captivating vocals, choreography, and particularly in 'Hairspray', colour scheme. Both are very down-to-earth in their character portrayals and concerns, from the point of view of very ordinary people and their dreams to transcend their ordinariness. But '881' has a particular sense of urgency, to make change now because an individual's life is short. 'Hairspray' is more patient, recognizing the quiet strength of a united people (as in Motormouth Maybelle's anthem, 'I know where I've been'), whose resoluteness brings about a slower but more inevitable change for everyone.

Compared to 'Hairspray', '881' is a kancheong spider. If you want to get to know a culture, listen to their stories, or watch their movies, and learn how the people think. I dunno. With '881', I'm like, yeah, that's how it was... interesting. But with 'Hairspray', I feel more like singing along with Tracy, "Good morning, Siiiiingapore...!"*

*Hear this song for free at the 'Hairspray' Broadway musical site -- just activate the 1st song on the jukebox.

Installing one additional gig of RAM has worked wonders for my exploration of Rapture. No more juddering, shuddering, abrupt system freezes, no more crashes. Now I'm ready to immerse myself in Bioshock. Thanks to YKM for the tip, though that was what I actually intended to do in the first place.

But gamer or not, I do too have a social life. Caught the All Blacks demolish a brave Italy at the Rugby World Cup with Anne, Mel, Wayne, JY and Thad. June and I joined them at Blooie's for dinner and dessert.

Yay, Blacks! Though the final scoreline (76-14) was a testament to how one-sided the match was. Oh well, Italy already got the soccer World Cup. What would they want a Rugby one for?

Casting off and casting care and concern aside, D. NY EL went on retreat to the Pulai Resort, Desaru. Josh, Baggy and I brought accompanying spouses, Boss Lady brought her 2 not-so-little gremlins.

Welcome to Desaru! This is about as exciting as it gets here. No modern conveniences of a shopping mall anywhere, but enough beach, swimming pool, and plenty of food for a relaxing get-away-from-it-all. It's a place to come to when looking for a slower pace of life, and to luxuriate in the otherwise guilty pleasures of torpor and indolence. The food quality isn't great, in fact it seemed to deteriorate gradually while we were there, but there's enough palatable selections on the buffet table at every meal to keep us going.

This here's the beach. We had dry, sunny weather throughout our stay. The beach is white and sandy, with lots of washed up seashells and shell fragments. June gathered a small collection of the best looking ones. The beach is mostly free of human debris, and while we were there, quite free of human beings as well. Nice.

This is a local individual who is suffering from a severe identity crisis. It and its friends were responsible for what I initially took to be bicycle tyre tracks all over the beach. We only saw this one though. How it got hold of a land snail shell to inhabit is probably an epic story worthy of a Peter Jackson retelling. I simply don't have that kind of imagination.

It wasn't all play and no work, though. Here we take a little break from our daily inactivity to get something useful done. Yes, the never-ending marking of the academic profession goes on vacation with us.

Probably the highlight of our retreat was our night cruise down the river on a vessel that reminded me somewhat of the African Queen in search of the Heart of Darkness fireflies. To reach the jetty, our 2 mini-buses bumped their way through a near pitch-dark off-road track through a plantation of oil-palms. Amazingly, there were a few people walking the same path that we drove through. Without their own illumination, their night vision must have been incredible.

Fireflies we found, but, as Mel said, what was even more fascinating were the stars overhead. They stood out for us city folk like never before, here so far from the glare of urban civilization. The stars have never been so bright, nor as numerous, and I saw a couple of constellations I roughly know the shape of, but could never before see in our own night sky.

1 weekend left to chill, then it's back to reality again...

"Why doesn't anarchy work?", I asked Wayne and Linc just yesterday. Apparently, it's because we are ultimately beings that function best when organized around one or more common goals, or something like that. Today, I am getting an object lesson on anarchy, as defined by rampant industrialized capitalism fueling unfettered scientific research and development devoid of any moral considerations whatsoever in an environment of complete freedom of expression and no censorship. Welcome to the undersea utopia of Rapture, the setting for Bioshock, the latest FPS to hit the console and PC market.

In Rapture, anarchy, which begins as a visionary Industrialist's dream, quickly degenerates into violence and hell-under-the-ocean-depths. Scientific research here finds a way to genetically enhance the good citizens of Rapture, and soon everyone wants to biologically command electric bolts from their fingertips to fry their irritating neighbours with. Before long, the genetic enhancement process drives everyone nuts, then it becomes open warfare, survive or die. There, another example of how our human nature simply cannot be left alone to manage things on our own.

Fortunately for the player's character, R&D also results in some awesome weapons and ammo the player can find lying around or pry from cold, dead fingers. The player also may seek genetic enhancements, boosting fight or puzzle-solving prowess to superhuman levels, a great asset to have in this game.

How far have I progressed into Rapture? I'm just a couple of scenes past the intro, admiring the detail in the underwater environment, the play between light and dark areas, and the ferocity of the AI enemies.

But sadly, I haven't progressed much further. The game crashes often on Mr L33t whose components are just past a year old as of today. Looks like I'll be in the market for another gig's worth of memory, a faster video card (my current 7600 just can't make it anymore), and perhaps a good sound card to complete the ensemble.

But again, no hurry. The D. NY EL retreat begins tomorrow morning. We're going to be leaving civilization for a few days to enjoy some Resort living. No technology... ttfn!

Officially, we're having a week off, but most of us staff still found our way back to campus for one reason or another. Consultations, backlog admin, the consolation is that we're assured of lunch company.

Anyway, it's a bit late but I've finally got our new NYconneX print edition #6 uploaded. Glad to say that the editorial team did most of the layouts themselves, though they're still rough around the edges.

Thanks to the sponsorship of Jane's committee, we could afford a little better quality paper for this run. We opted for 80 gsm photocopy paper which made the colour pix stand out beautifully compared to our usual newsprint. Now Wan's asking for a reprint of another 1k copies for use as publicity material at our upcoming Open House.

Good job, my Editorial Crew!

Here's a great study tip: eating makes mugging more effective. Ain't that great to know? Click here.

Pixar's "Ratatouille" is such a charming tale. Set in la belle Paris, how could it go wrong? It's about good food and messing about in the kitchen, a la the plethora of audience-friendly cable cooking shows, the likes of Oliver, Bourdain, and the travelogues of Samantha Brown. If that isn't a license to print money, I don't know what is.

Oh, and Chef Remy is a rat. Not the Cagney "you dirty... rat" type, but the actual makes [Victorian] women jump on chairs and scream rattus rattus variety. While his genius becomes so well-loved by the top food critics in Paris, his genus is widely despised, reviled and persecuted by nearly every human being who catches sight of him.

So, basically he's a mutant rat with some very special abilities. His uncomfortable friendship and partnership with the new garbage boy, Linguini, revives the name of the once-famous 5-star rated "Gusteau's" -- and brings it back into the attention of the much-feared food critic, Anton Ego, whose scathing review of many years ago had brought the restaurant's name down in the first place.

In the complicated relationship between rat and garbage boy, success lies somewhere between their strength of self-belief and identifying their personal talents which work well together in times of crisis. Like foreign talent, both are viewed with disdain, suspicion, jealousy and hate. Head Chef Skinner -- who has his own plans for Gusteau's -- particularly fears the new staff member, concerned that he will eventually be eclipsed and replaced (sound familiar?), and is unable to switch from his tried-and-tested ways to accept the newcomers' unorthodox but effective new practices.

Both facing the prejudice of their colleagues, and creating a dish to satisfy their culinary nemesis, Monseur Ego, require their ingenuity, creativity, talent and a touch of audacity, and is indeed a sight to behold, particularly as Gusteau's kitchen has to resolve a dramatic personnel meltdown in order to do so. Too bad for the locals, then, who cannot see the reality that in these days of unprecedented talent mobility, "Anyone Can Cook", and the next great thing may not necessarily be home-grown. It's going to take an attitude shift like chef Collette's, who adapts quickly to the unfolding circumstances and adds her local talent to create the new gastronomic haven that emerges.

Is the movie funny? 'Funny' has to do with the juxtaposition of opposites, in unlikely situations, causing unexpected results. Rat. Boy. Gourmet kitchen. Pressure-cooker kitchen environment. Paris. Lots of dichotomies too, as Remy and Linguini have to wear more than one hat each as they learn to adapt to their new home. Yup, the mix looks to be just right. Let it simmer to boil, serve warm. Good stuff.

Whatever. Linguini may live in a rathole, but at least it's a rathole in Paris.

My true talents have finally been recognized, if only by Taily and Que! Now I have another shiny thing to add to my collection that's sitting on the top of my cubicle's partition, thanks you two!

Thanks also for the other Teachers' Day gifts and notes of appreciation and encouragement from everyone else.

There was a novel party on campus to celebrate the occasion. There was food and open-air entertainment. P personally handed out ice-cream to the staff, Dee had a counter selling pretty little cupcakes for a good cause, and Lena brought her maltese, Hercules, whose well-groomed coat bravely bore the brunt of many hands seeking pet therapy.

Don't know how Council managed it but during the penultimate act at the open-air concert, the beautiful blue sky grew ominously dark and a light drizzle started, prompting a mad scramble for shelter and an abrupt close to the festivities. Perhaps we could hire out that last act to drought-stricken countries?

Great lunch at the White Dog with a larger group of company than usual. Vays, Linc & I were GoH to mark the completion of yet another solar orbit. Thanks everyone!

The GP prelims are over! That's the last official test the JC2s will take before they face the Real Thing in a few weeks' time. But a reminder to the JC2 KIds, remember to come back next Saturday to take your Critical Thinking paper!

We had 2 speakers discuss talent and population challenges for S'pore at this afternoon's industry-organized seminar. 1st guy was from a private sector consultancy, a Permanent Resident himself, focusing on the competition for talent around the world and looking at some of the factors that attract talented people to make a decision as to where they want to stay.

From his company's studies, financial reward comes last out of 4 criteria. The most important factor is something so subjective that it's difficult to quantify: talented people want, above all, a challenging experience, and a "buzz" in their work culture and environment.

Call me parochial, but I couldn't help thinking about my own employment situation, wondering if the "buzz" I'm getting now on the job will be enough to keep me going, and for how much longer. In the workplace right now, there are staff who've been here since like forever, so there's no doubt there is some kind of "buzz" going on. In a recent email, a friend of mine from waaaay back, listed a number of our old teachers from our sec school days who are still teaching there, and I'm like, wow... If I can already consider myself a wizened, shriveled, prune of a sage, these old mentors and tormentors of mine must have become hardened into diamond by now after so many years on the job. Would I ever last that long? Do I even want to?

What's the "buzz", anyway? It obviously has something to do with the challenging nature of the work, which should be stimulating in process and somehow results in benefits for others -- which makes the job worthwhile. Solving problems for people can be quite an ego boost, sometimes worth even more than the financial compensation for the work done.

But the "buzz" is also a social thing, in that there must be other co-workers who inspire, support and socialize informally with each other; sharing time, food, caffeine (or similar biochemical stimulants), gossip and jokes apart from the work-load. The "buzz" is excitement in the things we do together, whether it's duty-hours serious business, or off-duty fun and play. People respond positively to busy-ness within an atmosphere of "buzzy"-ness.

This year, I've had to get used to things being a little less buzzy, and I kinda' miss the Boyz still. CCA-wise I feel isolated and cast adrift since I've got no partner to bounce ideas off, or to spur me to do more than just tread water, or even help me get my admin straight. But I am appreciative of my current company, and the effort we make to still have meals together, at least. Today's pasta lunch before the seminar, the few movies we've sat through, and the upcoming D. NY EL Retreat, for example, show we still know how to create a buzz for ourselves. Even without the Boyz who, I'm beginning to be convinced these days, were a bit of an anomaly.

Guess I'll be sticking around a while more...

After an intense weekend of news editing and laying out, compre marking and the last couple of days of non-stop seeing of individual and small groups of students every hour on the hour with only a short lunch break in between, by this evening I was feeling like I'd been taking meds without actually having taken any.

The year 2 students are on study break, meaning no more formal timetable, but they arrange personal consultations with their subject tutors on a loose per-hour basis, first come, first served. Around this period in previous years, I don't remember ever being so popular. It's probably the nature of this batch, more of whom seem genuinely concerned about doing better about their grades than the earlier batches.

A couple of things I've been repeating today: Despite essay and compre papers looking like pen-and-paper exercises, if we treat them simply as intellectual exercises, we tend to be more interested in what we want to say about the issue rather than address the specific concerns of the person asking the question. We seek our own agenda among the questions offered and pick the one with the closest match, but fail to pay attention to what we are actually being asked. Hence we often miss out on the specific nuances that our chosen question requires us to address. That, in human terms, is just rude.

Instead, a good essayist listens to the questions like there was a real person asking them. Respect the inquirer, seek to understand the situation from the inquirer's perspective, address the inquirer's concerns, and reassure the inquirer that things are not so bad. Even if the essayist has no solutions to the problem, the essayist should at least know of which agencies are taking steps to solve the problem, and make referrals accordingly.

For GP students concerned about formalities like keyword definition, thesis statement construction, and the biggest bugbear, argument "balancing", perhaps the famous Prayer of St Francis might offer some insight and wisdom.

With all our concerns about climate change and pollution and hyper-consumerism all being linked to our mania for urbanization, maybe it IS time to let the Taleban and Al-Qaeda take over the reigns of the world. They pursue the perfect save-the-earth policy, after all. It's called "Turbanization".

Well, what did you expect? I've just finished laying out our latest print NYconneX, and am now facing about 30 essays to mark by tonight. I'm really not supposed to be blogging now...

I am upset with taily for being clairvoyant. Not a couple of months after suggesting I might smash my new Samsung cellphone, I have indeed accomplished the (then) unthinkable. There's now a thumb-shaped depression over a nasty crack on my poor phone's faceplate and the screen has gone blank apart from a few pretty coloured streaks of LDC material radiating from the epicenter of Ground Zero.

There are a couple of possibilities as to how the damage could have occurred. One: I'm a ham-fisted oaf who doesn't know his own strength, and pressed my thumb too hard on the faceplate as I was sliding the phone open (likely). Two: This damage is to be expected when a 40+ year-old crams his phone with his hard-plastic protected staff-pass in the pocket of his too-tight jeans, and the immense pressures that build up upon sitting his fat ass down proved too much for the delicate Korean-made product to withstand (I don't even want to consider this one).

Anyone know where I can take the casualty to get some A&E treatment?

Elite instiutions take pride in the high rate of candidates "washing out" of their courses such that only a small handful of deserving students can claim the honour and bragging rights of having survived a most gruelling, challenging experience. Those that graduate from the course know they are the best in their field, that they passed the highly stringent quality control measures, and their qualification actually means something to society.

Somewhere along the line, the Junior College has lost this prestige as an elite institution. A JC is, after all, not an institution of basic education, and being educated in a JC is therefore not an entitlement, as much as our students seem to think it is (and news of there being yet a 4th Uni could well increase the sense of entitilement our future students will have).

Under Article 26 of the UN Declaration of Human Rights, while "Elementary education shall be compulsory.... higher education shall be equally accessible to all on the basis of merit" (emphasis mine). Kids, you either work to prove your worthiness to be educated at H1/H2 level, or the education you have already received already ensures that you won't starve if you decide that you are wasting your time with us.

These days, though, we are so afraid to allow our students to fail. We pride ourselves in the number of our students who pass, and we bend over backwards just to get even the least deserving to make the grade. Not that we do anything illegal or underhand to give our students a passing grade, but we take it personally, when the kids underperform, and feel that we haven't been doing our jobs properly.

But our job is also to maintain standards and quality as gatekeepers of qualified personnel who will seek responsible positions in society in the near future. We canot afford to let loose into society sub-standard, yet paper-qualified graduates, or that really would be a violation of our civil trust. Yet we feel guilty for letting down our students if they eventually fail.

Perhaps it's us that are perpetuating the fear of failure that's a symptom of our unwillingness to try new paths, take risks and experiment to make new discoveries. It's us that perpetuate the myth that there is only one way in life and that failure at this stage is the end of the world for our kids.

The kids don't realize how much in the minority they are out of their cohort that took the 'O's with them. Our kids are elite seeking elite education. We need to constantly remind them of the reaity that not all of them are going to make it. Only the brightest and the best will, while the rest, well, they can always go back to living ordinary lives with the rest of their compatriots.

This is a proving ground, not a playground. Sure, everyone who enters has the potential to make it given their prior qualification, but it takes further effort, further endurance, further determination to overcome setback after setback, and if that is too much for them, then I'm sorry, they don't have what it takes. As their instructors, we have a responsibility to help the deserving, but we also need the courage -- and these days, reassure ourselves that we have the authority -- to allow those who deserve to fail fail.

Welcome to the Junior College. Appreciate the privilege of being here. We hope you survive the experience.

US kids cite very simple things that make them happy, according to an AP-MTV survey on youth happiness. Having strong relationships with others: family, friends and significant others -- in that order -- give them the security they need to be happy. Other indicators of youth happiness have to do with having a sense of belonging with some form of religious organization, and close parental bonding. Surprisingly, kids are also happier attending school (I suppose than not). Concerns for material well-being seem to have more to do with concerns over income disparity across the ethnic divide rather than with personal concerns.

Could it be that our kids aren't the selfish, angst-ridden, ungrateful little brats that we take them to be after all? Could it be also that despite the world having changed so much in the last couple of generations in terms of personal access to wealth and technology, our fundamental happy-factors haven't changed at all? What makes these kids happy are pretty much what would have made our ancestors happy, according to the results of this survey.

If these survey results are to be believed, then I wonder if the developments the PM promised us in his Nat Day Rally speech are going to be enough to make S'poreans a happier lot in the long-run. We can look forward to a whole slew of initiatives that will take care of our material concerns, some necessarily pragmatic (like tweaking our CPF in consideration of our longer life-expectancies) to the extravagant (beach resort HDB dwelling, anyone?), but if we don't do something about building better relations with our fellow S'poreans and FTs, our beautiful house will still not yet be a home.

But that, of course, is only what the govt can realistically promise -- better infrastructure, better living conditions. There's nothing wrong with having a nicer house, I guess, but it depends on ourselves as residents to make life pleasant for everyone, family members, guests and even our neighbours as well. Whatever the govt is promising, being happy is ultimately a do-it-yourself endeavour. Shall we roll up our sleeves and start work on it?

Dinner at The Olive, Labrador Park. It was a special occasion, after all. Finished off another pile of marking; only another, oh, 997 more to go or so.

It was a cool evening up in the hills. Chilly, in fact. We were dining al fresco, and the restaurant didn't even have to switch on the overhead fans.

Stuffed ourselves silly yet again. We had a seafood platter to start and a 'shroom soup each. It came with a warm roll that tasted fresh out of the oven.

I had a seafood 'shroom linguini aglio olio, heavy on the garlic, just the way I like it -- you can see a bit of it in the pix. I had 5/8ths of the lovely thin crust pizza that June's holding, while she had the rest.

Too full for dessert. Came home looking forward to the tub of Chubby Hubby (how approporiate) in the freezer, but as of right now, there is still no room in our fat faces even for ice-cream.

Blogging from fireworks display at tg rhu!

Test pix via mobile post.

Testing: 1st attempt at mobile blogging. Will it work?

I seem to be on a roll with NE issues, probably due to the recent NDP, the big conference our bosses have had over it, and today's staff conference at which we spent much of the afternoon discussing possible implementation strategies at college-level.

I think a lot depends on us staff and how we ourselves buy into the ideas that we need to consider as members of our community. Simply put, if we adults roll our eyeballs at it, then we should expect our kids to do likewise. We set the tone, we set the example, and we're better teachers of the wrong things than we give ourselves credit for -- such is the perverseness of our charges.

We're also at fault for constantly presenting our kids with the scariest visions of the future which we promise they will inherit. We emphasize the threats to ourselves, the competition we constantly face, the endless work that will escalate as they grow older so that the hamster wheel of academic study will eventually be traded in for the Fitness Treadmill of Infinitely Increasing Speed when they enter the working world. And that's just for our individual, personal survival.

'Look at the next door kid -- he's scoring straight 'A's, not to mention your Pri. 6 cousin who's going to a top JC in the North; and you? In some crappy, neighbourhood JC nobody's ever heard of. How to compete like that, ha, boy? Ai... yoh...! No one owes you a living, you know?' As parents, we repeatedly flash this message that even our nearest and closest are our rivals and will snatch away all we hold dear if we give them half a chance.

If this is the life we promise our kids, then why should we be surprised when our kids turn a cynical eye towards their homes, their lives and their future? No one in their right minds would take pride in their society if that's how they view it.

The threats are real. Our constraints are all too plainly obvious. Our precariousness occupying this chunk of real estate in this 'hood is something our closest neighbours constantly remind us of. So, yes, our kids have got to be aware of these realities. But we've got to balance out the picture for them too, to show them that there's still something worthwhile to live here for.

What's worthwhile is for us adults to demonstrate in the way we live and work -- and I said 'adults', not just 'teachers'. While we work hard, there are other facets in our lives that we don't show our kids; whether out of shame, or because we don't wish to set the 'wrong' example, or sometimes because we ourselves have neglected those facets due to our own busy schedules. We play, we laugh, we joke and kid around among ourselves, we take time off to go wild and crazy and do silly stuff, we have a good diversity of friends we are close to whom -- rather than view as threats -- we mutually support and back up. Our kids need to see this aspect of adult life as well, though I suspect very few do.

Glad to see the bosses are thinking of how to make NE more relevant to our kids. Here are my suggestions:
NE needs to show that there's more to life than endless, repetitive work.
NE needs to show that the shared load is easier to bear, and that there are people available who are willing and able to share that load with us.
NE needs to create opportunities for the kids to simply have fun and socialize with each other, using any excuse that might bring people together: loud music, extreme sports, community theatre, whatever, keeping the teenage students' budget in mind, of course.
NE needs to provide a wide variety of experiences to kick them out of their dark, dank cupboards-under-the-stairs and out into a wider world where we hope someday they'll come to live in.
NE needs to allow the kids to organize some of this stuff for themselves so that they'll be assured that doing it their way is just as meaningful as they doing it our way (if not more so).
NE needs to stop focusing on the individual's patriotism, loyalty, citizenship and any other concept we can make the poor sod feel guilty about, but rather appreciate (NOT reward) service and/or contribution to the community as something from the heart, and not for personal gain.

Finally: "Too much 'me' in NE turns NE into an NE-me" (horrible pun I shall falsely attribute to P 'cos I'm sure he'll eventually discover it for himself, given enough time).

For those who think success in Economics is all about "regurgitative, vomit essays", RBong, who sits at brekkie with us, was venting this morning about how Eco students still have no appreciation for what their questions require but will just spew everything they have memorized as soon as they spot a familiar word or topic in the question. So take it from a senior Economics staff member: blind regurgitation is more likely to earn a smack than an "A".

On the broad scale, Eco isn't that much different from GP. Questions are unique problems that the student has to solve by constructing plausible solutions based on the knowledge fragments accumulated through classroom teaching and personal study. But every subject also incorporates a specialized language and vocabulary that are appropriate to use when discussing matters arising from the subject. Eco uses funny Latin phrases like ceteris paribus, and as Taily pointed out today, Bio defines certain concepts in particular ways (usually because such definitions are already quite efficient and elegant, and have probably been coined by their original discoverers, so we shouldn't mangle them with our own definitions, though that is entirely possible).

So, yes, memory work is still highly valued -- the way we need it to learn a new language -- but only so far as amassing knowledge fragments goes. Answering questions in any subject requires a careful analysis of what the question wants, then devising a solution accordingly, using the language appropriate to the discussion. We don't need graduates who are hard drives and encyclopaedia; we already have those at our fingertips so having more organic, walking ones would be quite redundant. We need people who can think, so kids, take it up a notch and start thinking for a change.

Happiness is sharing ice-cream with someone you love. In this case, it's a New York Super Fudge Chunk from Ben & Jerry's while catching CSI:Miami on AXN with June. Finally, a chance to sit and indulge after a loooong day shopping with the in-laws.

Yup, the Wongs went on a hunt for a whole new garden to plant in their new balcony, turning M2 into a greenhouse on wheels for today. We, with 2 nephews in tow, were off exploring the huge, new IKEA mega store in Tampines, and Giant supermarket. This complex of bulk retail stores have been around for quite a while already, but June and I have been so sua ku, we've not had an opportunity to visit this place until now.

It's like shopping for the Sims^TM. So many items to choose from to improve our material well-being -- from furniture to electronics to food and other household necessities. Crammed with passengers and their purchases, M2 has never felt so heavy to drive before. Last stop was back to our place where we collected our last passenger, Mimi, whose home is finally ready to take her back.

NDP was fun -- a great show and an awesome spectacle, but it isn't a patriotism-inducing event and it wasn't meant to be. All the excitement, the flag-waving, the sharing of common space with fellow citizens plus the state leadership all in smelling proximity to each other counts for nothing as far as nation-building goes. But as a birthday party, now there's reason for a rollicking good time if ever there was an excuse for one. There's no need to over-politicize the event, so when the Brown dude got all morose over it, it was such a wet blanket entry, I thought.

Since the nazis and the communists, we've become quite suspicious of large-scale nationalistic parades that we now view as brainwashing propaganda. We're now a lot more sophisticated, never again to be swayed like a brainless herd of sheep enforcing mob legitimacy for some bemedalled banana republic dictator. Never again, no, no, no!

C'mon, lighten up! Sure we have problems and other things to worry about. People don't have enough money to counter rising costs, transport sucks, there's no respect for the elderly (ahem), education is a high stress mess, our art and culture scene is a farce, a million and twenty-four things to fret over 364 days of the year. Is just one day a year to be thankful for what we do have too much to ask for?

Patriotism isn't about flag-waving, or banner hanging, or wearing the colours, or any of that outward nonsense. Patriotism is engendered by only 3 things in life: family, friends, and a roof over our heads. Family is the springboard, home base and supply depot from which we launch our adventures in life. Friends support the load, share the work, infect each other with motivation and drive, and fuel us with enough ha-has and :)s to keep us pushing forward when things get tough. And damned if I'm gonna give up any piece of that crappy roof over my head, especially when it's costing me 30 years of my working life to own it, friends notwithstanding.

So what does Nat Day ultimately remind us? That despite our troubles, our less-than perfect existance, and the overwhelming urge to point out that someone should do something about it, this rock is home to no one else but us, and the gaudy, cliched red-and-white bunting that waves above our heads is no one else's but ours. So there.

M-i-L scored tix to NDP@Marina Bay which June and I gratefully accepted. It was another spectacular performance of military hardware, dazzling pyrotechnics and mass talent. But dunno why this year, the crowd we sat among was listless and boring. There were quite a few uncles and aunties who weren't energetic and some better off Chinese families (judging by their awesome photographic equipment). I felt like an idiot clapping and going, "whoo!" At one point, I was the only one "Stand[ing] up for Singapore", but I didn't care. I'm used to being an idiot anyway, and I was there to have fun, stuffy, boring people be damned.

The only other exceptional crowd member got up to bhangra

A freefaller makes a perfect touchdown

A stately flypast accompanies the National Anthem

The madatory pageantry

The Pres gets obscured by a flurry of mad flag-waving

Sheares Bridge set alight

Nasty things. Glad they're on our side.

The party gets started in earnest

We have great seats! The firework display is smack in front of us.

Happy 42nd, S'pore!

The secret to academic success depends as much on our ability to forget as it does on our ability to remember. In our department, we do everything we can to help our kids remember: we provide lecture notes the kids can follow along while we lecture, like a monotone karaoke session; we insist they copy points we flash off our so-carefully prepared PowerPoint slides; we lace our lectures with facts galore because we worry that the kids don't know anything so it's up to us to fill their empty jars, ignite their unlighted candles or whatever turns us on. I wonder if all that effort we put in is actually counter-productive to what we want the kids to do at their exams?

The way we put so much importance on our lectures and the supporting materials therein presupposes that there is only one way to view an issue -- our way. So the kids get the impression that if they can recall what they have heard in lecture, or study their notes, essay outlines and compre answers we so conveniently upload for them online, that's all they'll need to get by in GP (or any other subject they take, actually).

Wrong. If that's their study strategy, all the kids are doing is taking in particular answers for particular questions, and heaven help them if during the exam the questions they prepared for don't appear; or worse, if they identify a question as similar to what they have prepared for but isn't actually asking for the same thing.

That's why the kids need to learn how to forget. Forgetting doesn't mean the information gets irretrievably lost. It's more of a coping mechanism to deal with information overload. It's a skill that allows us to distill the relevant through filtering out the irrelevant. It's an ability to take in what is taught, but break it all down to differently-shaped, differently-sized, multi-coloured Lego bricks. Of course, the more pieces, the more options, the more flexible their design structures can be, the more questions they can answer, hence the need to read beyond the lecture as well. So instead of memorizing a single monolithic structure per topic, they're amassing a pile of random playing pieces that they can put together in different combinations, forming different structures as necessitated by the different questions they have to solve.

For me, an ideal lecture would entail full engagement between lecturer and kids. No notes, nothing to copy, but everyone listening and asking questions as the need arises. Give the kids lecture notes, they don't have to listen to the lecturer since they already have the notes. Make them copy and they will neither be listening nor engaging 'cos they'll be too busy scribbling. We just need to expose the kids to information (structure is more important for the lecturer than for the audience), allow them to interact with or otherwise use the information to generate new knowledge, but as soon as the lecture is over, forget everything. That is, break up the impressive Lego structure that the lecture has constructed, rendering the information back into its component pieces, then throwing all the pieces onto the pile ready for use in the near future. Recalling that one has seen a Lego elephant someone else has built doesn't mean being able to build it for oneself as the need arises.

When it comes to the exam, the kids need to pull various pieces from the pile as appropriate to the question, and construct their answers accordingly. Doing it this way means the kid has to consider which Lego pieces go best together in what combination in order to present the best answer.That's exercising thinking and creativity, and taking personal responsibility for the choices they make as they construct an answer to their question -- and that's the point of the exam. And that's the kind of thinking individuals we want our kids to be when they graduate.

Ultimately, we want to hear the kids' own voices come through the answers they construct. We would like to see some passion for the topic and that they are writing about an issue they personally care about. Last thing we want is to hear our voices echoed (more often than not, badly) back at ourselves. So don't. Forget what we lecturers tell you because that's just one very limited perspective from just one angle of just one issue relevant to just one question. Lectures are only the packaging that we use to dress up the information we're giving to you.

Any kid can tell you, nobody plays with an unwrapped Christmas pressie. That's dumb 'cos what's inside is a whole lot more fun to play with. As beautiful as the wrap may be, the joy of Christmas is ripping into the package, discarding the tattered remains and extracting the toy inside for yourself. Congratulations! You are now the proud owner of yet another bunch of Lego fragments to add to your collection. Have fun at the exams!

There's a Psych paper on this idea of selective remembering and forgetting (which I've bastardized and oversimplified above). Just skip to the conclusions on page 7 if the reading gets too heavy! Or read Psychology Today's Camille Chatterjee for her comments on the same paper.

The Nat Day concert was a failure of coordination, highlighting the real but often overlooked need for a stage manager and at least one full rehearsal involving all performers and support crew. We had very basic technical glitches that kept the stage empty while confusion reigned backstage. The MCs eventually threw out their scripts and winged it while decisions and instructions flew in all directions as various personnel tried to sort out the mess.

Still, as Paul observed, the audience very patiently bore with the start-stop show, and offered their encouragement to each item regardless. But just because the audience is a tolerant one doesn't mean that we can get away with an onstage fiasco. Yes, everyone's busy; everyone has no time for a full coordinated rehearsal; but we have to look at the bigger picture beyond our own individual items or duties -- everyone pulling together for a great show. After all, isn't that the message behind every Nat Day celebration?

Anyway, I'm glad our mad piece of silliness got a warm reception. It wasn't entirely intelligible -- some of my directorial decisions could have been better -- but it was fun working with these guys: Mel, Wayne, Alvin, Lynette, Gilbert, JY and Loke. They run high on spontaneity, low on inhibition. Sigh. If only there was time, I'd like to see if we could pull some of these guys together to form an improv comedy club with some form of long-term sustainability. Hmmm...

It was nice to go back to lunch at Friends after so long. Since we discovered Aston's across the road went much easier on the wallet, the latter has become our Gardens refueling station of choice. Today, we had both time and money to spend, so Friends it was. Air-conditioned comfort, proper chef-prepared cuisine served in orderly courses affording time in between for polite and not-so-polite yak with Amy, Baggy, HP and Mel. Leisurely lunches are such a rare occurrence these days.

And our little houseguest, Mimi (L), has been staying with us over the weekend while M-i-L's been getting her new digs in order.

This latest sleepover, Mimi has been such a great influence on our usually antisocial Q-tip (R). Q-tip's habit is to spend every evening alone under our bed, popping out every now and then to see if we're doing anything exciting, like sneaking out of the house without her, or eating fruit or whatever.

But with Mimi providing competition for human affection, Q-tip spent this entire evening faithfully by my side in the living room while I watched TV, just like a normal dog for once. Guess we shouldn't underestimate Q-tip. She may look like a dumb blonde, but she can still learn new tricks.

Listening to: Corrine May's Beautiful Seed :)

I have a great job. There are mad seasons that spring up all of a sudden that drive me to exhaustion, but thankfully they are usually relatively short-lived. Then there are periods of... well, not quite rest, but a much reduced pace that I can use to catch myself up to speed and operate on cruise mode for a while.

This week, for instance, is Nat Day week. That means tomorrow's concert at which we'll debut our hastily choreographed piece of nonsense, then that's it for scheduled work until next Monday! That's a great opportunity to put a major dent in my mountain of marking, and squeeze in a life on the side. Breathe... breathe...

Still alternating between marking and moving, and squeezing a little personal downtime in between. The latter usually means taking a couple of hours past midnight to indulge in reading "Deathly Hallows".

Meantime, I'm quite proud of my marking speed: nearly completed 1 set of full assignments, only another 998 more to go... hur. And moving M-i-L's hoard of personal possessions has been an almost Sisyphian effort...

An unusually harrowing week ends on a pretty decent note. I've got a crew of sporting, slightly mad staff eager to make a spectacle of ourselves on stage at our nat day concert next week. For once, I have to yell at people and tell them to "Stoppit! No! Behave!" So much better to work with these guys who are willing to go over the top right from the beginning, than a bunch of drooling mouth-breathers who just wait around until someone tells them what to do. In any case, from zero idea, we've worked out a basic story-line, eschewing lyrical dance (which was Loke's original idea) for simple mime movement instead. We have yet to set it to music, but I think we've made impressive progress as of today.

And since it's Sha's birthday this weekend, we had dinner with her at Ichiban Boshi, AMK Hub. But because we were busy with different things at different times, different shifts of friends ate with her. It was an odd combination that I came with -- Mel, Wayne and Paul -- and we joined Sha so late she was about to have dessert while we were still looking at our menus. Conversation was loud and hilarious, innuendo flung around the table with wild abandon. Yeah, TGIF!

I've never seen so many piles of homework hit me like this before. I have assignments, tests, assessments, timed exercises, all pounding down around me like the prelude to a world-ending asteroid strike.

Then there are still a number of other little deadlines to tag (including tomorrow's Career Chat I'll be sharing with Amy at which all the sordid details of my time-obscured mime career will be put to public scrutiny, as will Amy's daily grind of ambulance-chasing as a tabloid journo).

There's also a little matter of a National Day item to rehearse for -- it goes public next week and our crew have no idea what we're doing yet!!! *hyperventilates into a brown paper bag that smells faintly of yesterday's ham sandwich

Oh, and the last 2 nights expending muscle and gasoline power helping the in-laws move into their new place add another layer of fatigue to this week's schedule. And as far as I can tell, the end is not yet in sight...

No peace for the wicked (Is 57:21).

Another week of deadlines to meet on top of everything else. We're like hamsters in a fish tank paddling like mad to keep our heads above water. Who asked us to be greedy for fish?

Got a fresh pile of essays to mark, and expecting another set in the coming week. Too busy and tired to make a proper entry tonight. NYconneXions has been updated, though, if you want something to read... zzz.

Another essay exercise for my kids means another essay from me to entertain myself with while overseeing the task. Question reads: "Science cannot explain everything; religion can. Discuss."

In answering the question I tried to be objective. Instead, I ended up sounding more aetheistic than anything else. Oh, well. Click here if you must.

Dinner at Mad Jack, in Jln Kayu. The old Teochew porridge place is long gone, and has since been replaced by this Aussie-styled burger joint.

This place offers a Halal menu, so no Q-tips permitted on the premises. Poor thing.

For just slightly higher than food court prices, we got a burger and a striploin steak. They offer a triple-deck burger they call a "Blue Mountain", but I chickened out of that challenge and went with the reg'lar ol' single-patty variety. On hindsight, I think I could have taken on a Blue Mountain and survived.

Love the patty. Tastes freshly hand-made before grilling. There's no filler or other nonsense holding the patty together, so it's pure meat and can still fall apart in the sandwich. Never mind, that's why they provide forks.

The fries are large but surprisingly light and fluffy, and go nicely with the Heinz ketchup proudly displayed on every table.

Still, while the food's pretty decent, I feel it lacks the presentation of, say, Botak Jones. Mad Jack's is stark, minimalist and fuctional, whereas Jones is overwhelming with the largesse of their portions.

Jones still rules the big burger places here in S'pore.

NYconneX seems to have touched a nerve with last week's project work article! And I couldn't be happier! There is a real discussion going on with angry, angsty comments in the tagboard. Finally, we're getting to the point where our readers are opening up and speaking their minds. Perhaps they aren't so apathetic after all.

The beef is about how some JCs have attained a miserable "A" "B" grade percentage in last year's assessment compared to others scoring astronomical results. The kids are upset that for many of them, their efforts didn't score them an "A" and they are bemoaning that PW is just a waste of time, should be scrapped... whine, whimper, sob.

There's no consistency in the grading, and supervisors have their own interpretation of what's important and give conflicting advice, depending on who's asking and who's answering. In other words, PW is one big giant complete mess and so what's the point?

People, arise and savour the olfactory sensation of fresh brewed caffeine. In the real world, there IS no consistency. Unless a group firmly believes in the worth of what it's doing (like maybe the Al-Qaeda), projects usually put people who hate each other together to work towards a common but highly negotiated, diluted, compromised goal. Group members are hell to work with -- we have control freaks; leave-me-aloners; slackers who need fork-lift assistance to help them turn over in their beds; slave-drivers; just to name a few. And in the real world, project failure is more common than project success.

An even bigger mystery is how some projects can be so utterly crap (check out the multitudinous complaints directed at the iPhone, for example) and yet, they are such commercial successes. NASA engineers scribble ideas on pub napkins (see Wolfe's "The Right Stuff") and they send astronauts to the moon and back. In short, why some projects succeed and so many others fail, no one can say for certain.

Part of the reason for a successful project could be in the way the project is ultimately sold. Regardless of how much effort goes into a project, how well it has been researched and tested, if no one buys it (literally and figuratively) it's wastebasket material. For our kids, I think many lose points for being unable to carry themselves confidently at the oral presentation. If they doubt their own project, it shows. If project members haven't been carrying their own weight, it shows. If the team lacks unity, it shows. If you don't believe in your own product, or your own rationale for doing it, who will? I wouldn't buy your product if your pitch went, "We don't know why we did it, but we won't go to university if we didn't." That's just stupid.

And what about The Grade itself? If we were grading the kids on how much effort they put into their project, how many late nights they spent on it, how many brain cells they sacrificed for it, how much TV and Nintendo time was lost because of the endless meetings and paperwork they had to file for it, and we didn't give them an "A", that would be grossly unfair of us. Unfortunately, that's not what we grade their projects on. Ultimately, we want a project that works, that is socially responsible in its benefits, and is something we can believe in. Give us something REAL, and maybe, just maybe, we'll appreciate what you are offering.

PW isn't about the grade, anyway. The learning comes more from the attempt and the experience in working with others towards a real and realistic objective. If you get an "A", maybe you'll get to go to the uni. But if you learn how to collaborate, solve problems, and sell your own creations to an audience, maybe you don't need university to get on in life, after all.

Caught the RSC double-bill over the weekend, together with the lit and drama kids. It was wonderful to see how lengthy Shakespearean speeches could be so visually arresting as they are being delivered. The actors move, position and pace themselves so well, the audience is looking at a constantly moving picture that is coherent with the speech. Nothing random or incidental in the movement, but nothing static either; King Lear may have been nearly 3 hours long but it was a fascinating experience nonetheless.

The costumes were lush, rich fabrics with very striking colours -- quite a contrast to the simple pragmatic set that transitioned quite seamlessly with the action. Set changes took place in full view of the audience, though in half-light. Like characters themselves, each piece of set entered with purpose and exited with purpose, so even these brief in-between periods were interesting to watch.

And the story itself is as relevant today as it was way back when. Who's gonna look after senile old dad once the error message on his ATM reads "Insufficient funds"? Even though the old man hasn't actually lost his wits -- well, not all of them anyway -- neither of his daughters whom he has generously given all his assets to will put up with his excesses, and instead plot to remove the decrepit inconvenience once and for all. Too bad the country has to got to war as a result.

Sir Ian got a well-deserved standing ovation for his portrayal of the old king. Such a range of human emotion, and such a drastic change of status plus the intermediate stages in between the extremes already isn't easy to play, let alone the fine balance between sanity and stark raving nuts that the old king teeters on. Whoa.

Chekhov's The Seagull was another quality production of the RSC. Played in contemporary English, it was a little easier to follow than King Lear, though the plot is just as convoluted. As Sir Ian clued us in on Friday, most of the characters are plagued with self-doubt. They struggle to meet their own expectations, which are what they perceive society expects of them.

Everyone is unhappy because they can't get what they want, particularly in the area of love. Each is in love with someone who is in love with someone else. In the attempt to gain the favour or even the attention of the one they love, several characters embark on a self-destructive trail leading deeper and deeper into despair. Some characters deal with their situation better than others, of course.

I guess this is true for the human condition. People's desires can never truly be satisfied, with each success, each conquest simply being an eye-opener to new heights to scale, new goals to achieve. Perhaps it's the difference between those who curse God for what they don't have rather than thank him for what they do.

Still, having said that, I personally support our right to be unhappy. I'd rather live knowing there's more to life out there, than being satisfied thinking that was all there was to life. Faint heart ne'er fair hand won.

Hey, 'deep, here's a recording of Sir Ian's spellbinding recitation so we'll never forget it!