Fallow field

It's over. NBS and I have had our last class as joint instructors pioneering what was "the new subject" from two years ago. I'm not absolutely sure about the reasons for discontinuing the course apart from the fact that NBS is moving on at the end of the year, and I haven't the confidence to take the whole job on alone. The classes I've had have been stimulating and we've had many fun discussions, so it's disappointing that it's come to an end. But perhaps it's the best move for me too, 'cos I've felt diffused with too many different subjects to plan for and I need to refocus myself.

As for the new subject, it'll lie fallow for now. A cultivated field needs to replace its nutrients after a couple of harvests. I'll be looking for a new farm hand in the meantime.

Cross my palm with silver...

Had a consultation with ZH who is thinking about taking philo at the uni. He was wondering what philo majors ate after they graduate. At first glance, philo doesn't appear to be a practical subject that lends itself to too many job openings for work that actually pays money. I told him to clear his JC hurdle with the best grades he can get for all his current subjects first, then if he still wants philo at the uni, go for it. Simple cause-effect: flunk 'A' levels, no uni. No uni, no philo. A nicer tutor might have given him the glass-half-full view instead. Whatever.

As I continued to discuss The Future with him, my crystal ball predictions for the job market and the economy overall looked something like the following:

In our region, it's clear that there's no way we can compete along the industrial manufacturing line any longer. Even in high-tech manufacturing, we're going to be hard-pressed. Anything we can make, our neighbours can make cheaper. They have the materials, lots of hungry human resources, and the desire to match us in economic success and prosperity. They are already moving into their own industrial age and they'll easily edge us out of the game if we're not paying attention.

Fortunately, we are. We know our neighbours are aiming for self-sufficient bread-and-butter issues, and so we have to move on to a new niche -- the "knowledge-based economy". In other words, we're in the business of selling ideas. Hence, our job market will need thinkers and creatives, and probably creative thinkers plus those who can manage and channel the right brain-power to the areas that need them the most.

We'll be developing in areas like education, the arts, entertainment, industries that can produce unique -- and therefore valuable -- objects and/or experiences. We'll also be brokers for thoughts and ideas, perhaps in technology transfers or political-social-ethical theory, like Athens might have been to the ancient Greeks. ZH, philo may not be such a bad choice after all.

For us, mass production has taken us as far as it can go. Our clientele can no longer be the mass market because our industry can never expand large enough to supply the demand from a growing mass of newly affluent peoples from our neighbouring countries, not to mention India and China. They can more than adequately mass manufacture for their own people anyway, so they don't need us for that. Where they are becoming competent in providing the necessities of life for their people, we will be providing quality of life.

We have to target a clientele further up the value chain from the ordinary masses. Customization is the way to go, ideas and designs that distinguish the better off from the riff raff. We're talking about smaller value-added industries creating [whatevers] in exclusive quantities that a higher class of people are willing to pay a premium for.

It's the only strategy that'll help tiny us survive in a world that is slowly but surely growing overwhelmingly humongous day by day. We will survive by creating, then making peoples' dreams come true. While the world learns how to live longer and better through their increasing capabilities, we'll survive by giving the people something to live for.

The reality is, our competitive arena is never going to be a level playing field for us. We are too small, too weak, and too helpless to compete head-to-head with any of our neighbours. So we have to ask ourselves what game we are playing so as to take our best advantage. I propose that we are at the dog races. All the thoroughbred greyhounds lined up, whichever crosses the finish line wins.

However, in this game, we're not any of the greyhounds. If we were, out of the starting gate, they'll eat us for breakfast. No. We're the hare -- a tiny, defenceless, fuzzy thing mounted on a track that the dogs chase in order to motivate them to run faster. The hare represents to the dogs the possibilities that could be, and is always moving faster than the pack. It cannot afford to be caught because it will be torn to shreds, but that also means that the race is over and everybody loses.

In case you haven't noticed, life here is already like that. If our future progresses along rational lines, our future promises to be quite exciting. It's up to us to convince ourselves that in the next 10, 15, 20 years, this is the place to be and make it happen.

Film Fest 08

Stayed late on campus to support Sha's film fest. Basically, it's the official launch of her kids' self-shot, self-edited movie. Won't say too much about the movie itself 'cos considering the kids put it together without much experience and advice, it wasn't too bad a job. Yes, there were the usual jump cuts, odd camera placement, continuity gaffes, occasional gaps in the plot and a couple of the perennial voice-over blackouts (they never learn year after year); at least the storyline was generally coherent, and the talent took personal risks playing in uncomfortable situations and the performances, though cliched, were mostly believable.

But the film fest was also an excuse for a handful of us to take some time off work and have some great laughs over dinner and a quick supper at the AMK garden McD's (free parking for the first hour!) where we analyzed Sha's movie to shreds in her presence. HP, though officially no longer fellow staff continues to spend her last few days here with us before her departure towards the West and the Grand Adventure that awaits her. B-lo and Wayne rounded up our little group tonight.

Bolt or blot?

Usain Bolt wants to have fun. Bolt runs for a living, and as of the now-concluded Beijing Olympics, he's the fastest man in the world.

To be able to accomplish a feat no other human being has been able to makes his exuberant claim to be "number one" a statement of fact, though he may have made a bit too much of a meal of it on international television. As fellow human beings, we can take some pride in the physical proof that our frail design has broken yet another seemingly impossible limitation; but to see Bolt's index-finger waving in-your-face celebration on a 50+" LCD HDTV must have pushed IOC Pres, Jacques Rogge's I-so-want-to-smack-his-face button.

Rogge's job is to keep the good image of the Olympics. Scenes like Michael Phelps celebrating with family and loved ones after yet another record-breaking achievement are heart-warming and represent the spirit of sportsmanship that the Games upholds. That makes for nice family entertainment, and Rogge isn't about let his beloved Olympics degenerate into a quad-annual WWE-fest any time soon.

Though Bolt got his smack, he still remains unrepentant. To him, that display was just about him being himself, having fun, enjoying a great day at the office and entertaining the crowds the way they want to be entertained. And it was great for the ratings too! So what's the old man's problem?

Two guys on opposite ends of a tug-of-war rope. Traditional idealist vs Media-savvy punk. But if Phelps, a guy with more reason to be proud of himself, can behave himself in front of the international media, Bolt's excesses put a blot on his achievement. Grow up, boy!

Shopping spree

Put out another wad of cash for fixtures and fittings for our new place. Sinks, taps, crappers, showers, and a water heater for our two bathrooms, and a hob and hood set for the kitchen.

Seems we got a good deal from this lobang of Tong's. We got varying discounts on each item, depending on the branding, and a small overall discount if we paid cash outright.

It was funny to see all of us us emptying our wallets and counting all the cash we had brought with us to qualify for that last discount. May helped out a lot with her own cash in hand while the store accepted the balance via NETS payment.

So, slowly, painfully, our new premises are coming together.

Farewell, HP!

Full shots viewable here: HP’s Farewell

We played a dreadful trick on HP. We arranged to throw her a going-away dinner at Josh's place, then at the last minute this afternoon, a significant number of us either called, SMS'ed or personally conveyed our apologies for not being able to attend due to some pretext or other. It was a little heartbreaking to make her feel so disappointed, but there was no other way to pull off the surprise we planned for her.

So when we seemingly popped out of nowhere while Josh was giving her the grand tour of his house we gave her quite a shock, and she couldn't stop laughing for a while.

While we ate, we watched Li crash out of the Olympics third place match in table-tennis. Almost a repeat performance from Athens, last time around. The Chinese are just too good.

And, as efficient as I knew them to be, Amy & Co pulled out a cake with a candle on it for me. It was a rich chocolate/white chocolate confection from Bengawan Solo. I'd already blown out a candle at M-i-L's last night, but I guessed my pals opted for surprising me today 'cos there really wasn't any time to do it yesterday. Thanks ppl!

Now, back to HP: anyone fancy an early morning drive to the airport?

Bloodsuckers Top 10

more graph humor and song chart memes

Consider today's ST report on the S'pore's Top Ten absconders of other people's moolah. Out of ten, SIX represent the legal profession. You draw your own conclusions.

Templates and worksheets and kids

Template worksheets are a horror to me. They bore me with their routine fill-in-the-blanks repetition, leaving little scope for outside the box thinking. The point of the template is to think within the box/es provided in any case. It's an extrinsic form of discipline, forcing a particular and artificial flow of thinking through an equally artificial problem, giving the impression that there is only one path to a solution.

But that's just me. I discovered today that kids and templates are a marriage made in heaven. How to make kids sit and focus on a piece of work? Give them a template exercise and they'll be furiously scribbling away, trying their darndnest to fill up the empty boxes like a salaryman attacking a sudoku puzzle. And I sit there with one raised eyebrow wondering why it's gone so quiet all of a sudden.

True, it's an exercise we've done several times over already, so the familiarity must have something to do with it. The structure helps focus and discipline easily-distracted minds to the routine task.The steps to solving the problem are spelled out and the expectations are clear. Or clearer, anyway, than just a blank sheet of paper and a mess of possibilities.

Me, I learn intuitively and introspectively. I enjoy the freedom to explore, to pick up ideas, and arrange them in different kinds of odd combinations. Must be due to the lack of education I received during my formative years. To force me to think within a set framework -- and grade me for compliance -- is quite an anathema to my personal develoment, and I was in my day quite a hopeless student.

But the kids are different. Mainstream-schooled, they need their structures and their scaffolding. For them, step-by-step is the way to go. Fine. Point taken.

A chink in the armour

I'm as proud as any S'porean (apart from the regular gripey malcontents on STI) about our paddlers' team silver at the Olympics. The team did well enough to demolish its opponents in its group, and fought tooth and nail in the semis, but despite its steamrolling success it didn't pick up enough momentum to beat the last opponent, China, in the finals.

I realise to ask for a gold would appear ungrateful, but I am playing a game of "what if?". Could Li, Wang and Feng have taken Zhang, Guo and the other Wang? It may have been difficult, but not impossible since all are top-ranked competitors in the sport. So it isn't in capability that our team faced a disadvantage.

No, what worked against us was having too much respect for the opponent, both in its top seeding and in its partisan home support. This really was China's party, and we tiny upstarts weren't in any position to make them cry if we wanted to. And we didn't want to, anyway; it wasn't in the unwritten 'script'. Perhaps in a more neutral country we wouldn't have been so overawed.

That's one mental block our athletes have yet to work around. We tend to play for what SHOULD be, not what MIGHT be. Our nation can be embarassingly audacious in many respects, but not yet in the sporting arena.

To add another two cents, here's an observation from an armchair critic about our silver medallists: They give away too much about their emotional state in their body language at the table. There's annoyance, frustration and resignation written as clear as day on their faces and postures. While it looks like great passion and drama for a television audience, it's also a dead giveaway to their opponents as to who has the upper hand. They may play excellent ping-pong but horrible poker.

The key to a winning game is in maintaining composure under pressure. An upright stance and a cool face even when losing reflects attitude and control. It can be difficult to master, emo beings that we are, but it pays dividends. "If you're putting up an act for others to see, you can end up fooling yourself too," according to tennis player, Kay Kay Magi. And that bit of self-deception could be just the thing to turn a match around.

And it doesn't even have to apply in just sport.

*Er... no pun intended in the title. Honest.

Olympic silver for our girls

Not often a Head-of-State's national address gets upstaged by a sporting event on primetime TV. Still, it was a match of national importance, an historic occasion and something to cheer about in gloomy times.

The final score was 3-0, but the girls had already won before the match started. They didn't go in to turn the world on its head; it was quite enough that they delivered on their promise. An Olympic silver in a team event to break a near half-century drought is, indeed, something to celebrate.

We certainly do have great girls, go-getters all; inspirational, competitive, showing fire and determination and a lion-hearted fighting spirit. Fabulous, brave, beautiful to behold. We're proud of our girls, including the little swimmer who was the toast of our town not too many days ago.

My question is, where are us guys in all of this? Our national achievements are running on women-power alone, while we guys are either too wimpy, or having a too beer-swiggin'ly good time watching our better halves on TV to match them in ambition and drive.

Perhaps we've identified with our lion city too closely?

It's probably why the PM's so worried. The lion-lioness metaphor isn't working. There ain't no little cubs swelling our pride. But honestly, if I were a lioness myself, I'd be a tad suspicious of the local gene pool too.

"The Littlest Hobo" leaves town

And just like that, HP's gone. Was so busy, I didn't even get to say 'goodbye' on her last day. Yes, her official farewell dinner is still to come, but there's a Space in her cubicle now where there once was a friend.

We'll miss HP a lot. She may have appeared understated, but she kept things sane within the general chaos of dNYel. She was a deep, calm reservoir of hidden strength and yet, suddenly revealing an adventurous spirit that we could not tie down. Next stop: TO, a dear, familiar city full of treasured memories I myself would love to revisit one day.

Bon Voyage, HP! We'll keep in touch via FB.

Post scriptum:
Ok, I'm sorry. After two weeks of being infected with a cyber-virus caught from the iCTLT and spouting nonsense like a blithering idiot (B-lo's new vocab of the day), I believe the embarassing madness has run it's course and I've finally returned properly to Earth.

I promise no more mindless rantings reminiscent of a novice with his first commission, all starry-eyed and empty-headed. No more talk of "change this" or "change that". I'm realistic enough to know that the more talk, the less change. So I'll stop pretending I'm working 24/7 for the good of "my kids". I'm Off-Duty, remember?

On the cusp of industrial revolution

Well, there it is: the Boss is taking us into our next stage of industrial evolution. It'll be more customized towards the individual student. We're going to teach in more innovative ways and the kids have to learn to innovate on their own too. It'll be important to ground the kids in solid theory, but they've also got to see how theory applies in a way that is relevant to their lives.

As excited as I am about these sweeping new changes, I still have to keep my ear to the ground and see who else is likely to rally around this cause. This is a revolution that starts from the ground up. I'm not about to lead this charge by myself.

Terrorizzzz...

Was planning to make a note of attending this afternoon's industry-sponsored seminar on terrorism and how the third speaker, my ol' pal Cherry-ann, made quite an impact on my female companions with his learned, yet boyish charm. But I didn't realize just how fatigued I was. Crashed and burned on the living room carpet and only woke up past midnight so that I could finish my beauty sleep in bed.

This entry has obviously been back-dated.

Swollen and puffy

Fell sick again with a nasty allergic reaction to who knows what. Apart from the usual asthma-like inflammation in the lungs, the left side of my face swelled up, and I felt puffy and irritable throughout the night. Couldn't get much sleep as a result, maybe two hours at the most.

Swelling went down a bit in the morning, though still noticeable. Went to work in my glasses and probably scared the kids showing up for class like that. Got a prescription of anti-histamines and an anti-inflammatory to help me sleep better tonight, and hopefully I'll be in a better frame of mind to interact with the kids tomorrow.

Still curious about what might have been the allergen. Likely suspects: the Pacific clam surprise in my dinner, the Japanese strawberry ice-cream I had for dessert, or Maui. Stupid cat has a new game: ambush owner from the back, sinking his claws into the skin as he climbs his way up to perch on said owner's shoulder like a pirate's demented parakeet. Underneath my shirt, I look like a scratching post. And that boy's claws aren't exactly the most sanitary things on Earth either.

Avoiding all three things tonight...

It's the guy's fault!

With all the talk and concern over our recent baby issues (or rather, lack thereof), and with the revelation that our government is initiating policies focused on putting the boot to husbands' backsides, here's an interesting counter-perspective based on a US parenting study that lends support to what I've already intuitively known: having kids does not necessarily make one happy.

Question is, am I happy now, without having sprouted forth a genetic host to transport my genetic legacy through another generation? I'd say I was fairly content. I don't know how I could be any happier, but I do know how my encounters with other people's kids have often ruined my usually benign disposition towards the human race.

Just this morning I overheard a male voice saying, "I'll give you money if you'll be a good girl." Under normal guy-girl conversation, this line would have led to interesting possibilities, but no, when I looked he was just a dad trying to convince his bawling tot to get off the cheap ride (which again under normal circumstances is an interesting proposition, but no, he was just being a dad).

In man-speak what the dad was saying roughly translates to, "why the #%* isn't this RC working? Maybe if I #*$! bought a ^~!* upgrade, it might ^*%# work better?" We're looking at a guy who has lost control over both his finances and his dignity right out in the public eye. Definitely not a happy situation for any guy to be in. If this was a scene in a movie, he'd be the one providing comic relief, losing to a little girl like that.

This isn't the first time I heard this cry of desperation. When I see parents with their kids, more often than not the interaction is of a high-tension nature, a contest of wills. On one side, there's threat and authority, on the other manipulation and emotional blackmail. Perhaps I have a jaundiced eye, but I am not encouraged to give up my current state of mental health and overall well-being for what looks like a lifetime of negative return.

It'll be interesting to see what new initiatives the relevant Ministry intends to roll out in the next few weeks. What could they possibly say to convince us guy-folk to turn in our frat-boy beer hats and settle for a life of domesticity, barefoot and pregnant?

Trying to be funny on TV

Local English TV debuted two new sitcoms this evening, "Calefare" and "First Class". The former looks at the lives of the people cast as extras in film and TV shoots. The latter is about the goings-on in a secondary school and, um, not quite sure what else 'cos we didn't get past the introductions of the characters in the first episode.

I wondered about the word "Calefare". It seems to be a word used only in the local entertainment industry. The recognized term is "extra" so where did this odd-sounding noun come from? The closest etymology I can conjecture is from the French term, "le faire", which means "to do [it]", which makes sense. It is for the extra to do and die. But the "Ca" part eludes me. Can anyone offer assistance?

English drama has been pretty dire on local TV (still is) because it has never moved past playing stereotypes. And bad stereotypes at that. What English TV has yet to twig on is that TV is a very different medium from theatre. I know theatre, and I know that there is room to play with form and presentation because theatre is an inherently artificial environment. The characters need to appear larger than life, with clearly defined characteristics because much of the context (that word again) they exist in is created with a lot of fill-in-the-blanks in the minds of the audience. Theatre couldn't be 'real' if it tried.

The audience for TV treats the medium as 'real', though. The TV camera can transport the audience to real locations and 'converse' with real people. News, documentaries, chat or magazine programmes, reality TV all exploit the audience's belief in the realism TV presents. The TV camera is a mobile device that can shoot from any location in 3-dimensional space, so there is no reason for the audience to make allowances for any theatrical backdrop, or be in any way limited by the theatrical convention of the '4th wall'. The camera brings the audience to intimate proximity with the characters on-screen and that gets pretty real for us, moreso than theatre ever could anyway.

MediaCorp tends to hybridize both media, but it doesn't work. The sets are real locations -- or at least realistic locations -- but the characters are just unbelievable. They are like 2D cartoon characters superimposed on 3D space. In the pilot of "Calefare" we have a diva actor who is all diva, a wistful Bollywood has-been, a spaced-out snarky rocker chick who speaks like Raven of the Teen Titans and plays 'dead' quite well, and the usual raft of characters from any local school skit featuring 'local people'. Likewise in "First Class" the range of teacher-types and student-types is as predictable, and played to death already. No need to elaborate, you already know what I'm talking about.

Despite the promising issues that can be explored in sitcoms involving extras and school-based high jinks, if the characters don't develop any personalities soon, we'll have yet another crop of English TV drama that won't surpass the quality of a Power Rangers series, or maybe LWT's Mind Your Language at the most.

This is not to say that the use of stereotypes on TV cannot make successful TV shows. We know how popular the Power Rangers franchise is, and MYL was more than a laugh and a half, but MediaCorp also needs to mind its audience and mind its own medium if it wants to raise the level of English TV comedy in the S'pore.

I'll be watching...

43 today

"Celebrating the S'pore spirit" in the comfort of my living room, watching the parade on my 29" TV. The sensation wasn't quite the same as being there, but it was the next best thing having failed to score tix this year.

Instead of joining in the crush of 200,000 revelers at Marina Bay, I quite happily took a break from it all and spent most of the day alone at home basking in peace and quiet. My only company was the pile of essays that I've been slowly gnawing my way through over the past week. June, on the other hand, was doing the more sociable and cosmopolitan thing, joining her colleagues at her FT boss's condo taking Korean cooking lessons.

I wonder if it's because I wasn't at the parade in person (or maybe that after last night's spectacular opening of the Beijing Olympics there wasn't much we could do to even compare), but our 43rd birthday seemed quite a bit understated. It sort of crept up on us, there was this evening's bang and whoopee, and now it's all over.

Oh well, anyway, happy 43rd, Spore!

Momentary self-consciousness

Was my previous entry as irritating as I thought it was when I re-read it? Some information should just stay in the classroom where it belongs. I have to remember that I'm a blogger who, by the way, teaches; and not a teacher who blogs. I'm sure there must be more interesting things to talk about.

No context, no comprende

In adapting to Learning 2.0, there's bound to be a huge conflict between the holistic, customized, student-centred curriculum that we hope to develop for our next generation of learners, and the tried-and-tested assessment of the pen-and-paper nature that we're used to.

Immediately on my return from the conference, I had scheduled a practice exercise to prepare the kids for their test next week. Here's a piece of text, read it. Here are a bunch of questions about the text, answer them -- and don't copy anything from the text. How stimulating is that?

So, we want our cake and eat it too. We all agree that assessment is an essential component of the learning process. It shows the progress of the learner, the accuracy of the learning, the suitability of the pace of instruction, and lots of other important data for tracking the learning process. And yet, because we are introducing diversity, applying multiple-intelligences to bear on our students' learning, and encouraging them to take ownership and responsibility over their own learning process, when it comes to taking standardized tests it seems like allowing everyone to run free for a while and then suddenly yanking on their leashes and bringing them all back to the kennel we told them they were being released from. In this model, their learning is still about the test, whatever our intentions were.

There is a way to reap the benefits of both worlds. The one missing factor in the above model is context. The idea is to teach the kids beyond the requirements of our tests, to stretch them so far that the test is like child's play to them. We aim our sights higher, push the kids further, no so much making them grind harder for their test but rather to put them in real-life situations in which they can see how the theories they are reading in their textbooks actually do make the world function.

As for my exercise, I decided I wouldn't torture them with sit down, shut up, do your work. The topic was about the declining regard today's society has for the institution of marriage. Although the topic is a real, current concern for adults, it seemed quite remote to the kids until working together in small groups they started contextualizing the issue for themselves. Before attacking the given text, each group had to make some important decisions first. Each group had to decide which interest group it represented; it had to decide who their audience was; and it had to decide what the problem was that it had to advise on, given the interest of the group. For example, a group might decide that it was playing the role of a happily married couple advising another couple on the verge of divorce how to salvage their marriage. Now that they had a reason for looking at the text and they had a specific problem to solve, they seemed to be in a better frame of mind to begin the exercise.

I still feel they aren't quite ready to handle the pen-and-paper exercise yet though. I need one more step and that is for each group to script out a dialogue based on the characters and the problem they need to resolve, and then for fun (multiple-intelligence thing) we'll have a little drama presentation so that everyone will be able to view what initially seemed like a mundane problem from many different perspectives, some of which may be somewhat self-serving, but none absolutely right or absolutely wrong. But all relevant to answering the Application Question that is the whole point of the Paper 2 Comprehension.

I haven't even mentioned how the use of Web 2.0 could vastly enrich the kids' engagement in this exercise. As it is I can see already that I going to need a lot of time to get everything done. Which is why I have a problem: the kids' standardized test is scheduled for next week. I may not have the time to prepare them for it if I go with what I propose. Hmm... decisions, decisions.

iCTLT: Day 2

Bernie Trilling and the spiky ball of central control

Let's take a balanced approach to Web 2.0

One final chat before bringing the festivities to a close

If yesterday was about the possibilities this whole Web 2.0 thing can open up to us, today we focused on the nuts and bolts of how it should function as we bring IT and Education closer together.

The Korean delegation presented a fun "Digital Textbook" they're developing for Elementary English. It was fully interactive and incorporated lots of multimedia surprises including sound and video clips and animations. Kids could self-check their progress, communicate in real-time with each other and with seonseng, and post work to be graded all entirely online. If I put a user-defined spin on this idea, with the proper instruction and the tools available, my 16-17 year-olds could customize their own GP textbooks, couldn't they? Let's let that idea percolate for a while...

Many speakers today talked about making learning contextual. Bernie Trilling said that "questions and problems drive learning," not content in isolation of everything else. Cheryl Lemke made a point that learning should take place at the community level so that there is an interconnectedness between the learning and its application to society. The individual needs of the learner, the skills they need to become facile in, and the talents they can develop all play a role in this new landscape. If we haven't been playing at this level before as teachers, we either will, or we have to, depending on how we choose.

Yesterday, we talked about transforming the world with technology. Today, we put people back into the equasion. Technology has only given us a means to shake more hands than our ancestors may have ever dreamed possible. But it's still going to be the needs of the people and our sense of responsibility towards each other and to the world that will determine what we do next after we say, "hello." Technology can transform and keep transforming, making us all uncertain and insecure about where we're at any point in time, but it's still going to have to be people teaching people or there's no longer any point to our learning.

I had a fabulous time at this conference. Lots of ideas to steal from an array of inspiring, sensible, practical people keeping an eye on the future, yet working to realize it in the here and now.

Hope John Connell doesn't mind my links to his blog, but he's got such succinct notes from the keynote speakers:

iCTLT '08: "Mind_shift, Culture_shift" by Cheryl Lemke

Talk to my lawyer

Got an inside look into the legal proceedings behind our real estate transactions. In typical blur fashion, we arrived at our lawyer's office with no documents whatsoever. So she had to sign the legal documents with us in good faith, trusting we'll fax over everything we need in our portfolio in the morning.

Linda worked out our cash balance, our individual CPF contributions, and all legal and stamp duties we were liable for. Satisfied that we were still living within our means (a bit late anyway, now that we've got pretty much done deals), we signed on several dotted lines... and now we can proudly say we have engaged a lawyer to represent us on issues concerning our physical estate.

As long as we fax over the stuff tomorrow.

International Conference on Teaching and Learning with Technology: Day 1

The unveiling of IT Masterplan 3

Sir Ken describes a holistic learning matrix

Mitch Resnick on technology, education and creativity

Can't help gushing, but what a rush Day 1 has been. Apart from watching our new Boss unveil our industry's latest IT Masterplan, we also had two illustrious keynote speakers, Sir Ken Robinson, of the ouch-inducing "schools kill creativity" TED address; and Mitch Resnick of the Lifelong Kindergarten, among other things he's doing for MIT.

Inviting these two critics of education systems that have seen little change since the Industrial Revolution tells those of us at implementation level to prepare for a new revolution in education. With the technology that's available to us now, there exists the potential for a tremendous explosion of new ideas and new means of expressing them, but we have to let go of the purely economic, purely functional, assembly line approach to education in order for it to happen. We're moving into an era of teaching and managing creativity, and it's happening right here, right now.

While it might be a tool to achieve "results", we can no longer use fear to drive our kids like we used to. They've got to be happy to come to school and learn whatever it is they are learning. If we say they can only be happy when they receive their Certificates, it's too late because by then they have become "set for life", literally. Learning in this way is only a means to an end, but paradoxically it also puts an end to their means. I'm just saying.

Personally, I've never been so turned on by events like this one; but today I'm accumulated half a small notebook of scribbled thoughts and ideas. I need some quiet to reflect and figure out possible implementation strategies and I'd love for some sensible person to help harness my wild imagination and make it real and workable. Dunno who yet, so I'll just leave it open and see what (or who) Providence turns up.

Anyway, for my personal reference, the following links are John Connell's informal transcripts of some of the key proceedings from yesterday and today:

iCTLT '08: Education 2.0
iCTLT '08: Sir Ken's Keynote

International Conference on Teaching and Learning with Technology: Day 0

The Seminar title was promising enough, "Web 2.0: The Power of Learning in a Networked World". But it looks like even Web 1.0 has yet to kick off in this region. Here's an analogy straight from this afternoon's experience: When I walked into the conference this afternoon, there were already some people seated, waiting for the event to begin. We were all individually scattered, keeping as much physical distance from each other as possible.

In a "networked world", the idea is that we'd walk into an environment that we'd find information about each other very quickly, establish common grounds with each other and begin trashing out ideas and opinions almost the instant we met each other. That wasn't happening. Instead, we sat apart, kept doing our own things trying not to attract attention to ourselves until a familiar face walked through the door, and only then to cluster into a node of discussion. Turned out that me, Kev and Wan became the noisiest node (imagine that!) simply because three of us came from the same institution, whereas everyone else came either alone or in a pair at the most.

Because physically we weren't networking as a whole, it was obvious that no one was networking online either. With the exception of yours truly and his little blog, I suppose. And even then, I'm not much of a networker, either. So instead of me learning from more experienced Web 2.0 users, it became more of a session where our speaker, J Connell, tried to convince the rest of his audience to at least get started with a personal blog, and see what happens from there.

Connell also showed us some other useful tools as well, such as RSS aggregators and other means of sharing information amongst a smaller, personally defined audience rather than jumping straight into the wild and wooly world wide web itself. So at least out of this afternoon, I got a clue about some new toys I could start playing with.

Don't know what the situation will be over the next couple of days at the Conference, but I gather so far that I am one of the pioneers in the transformation education is about to undergo now that human knowledge is shifting to occupy an increasingly electronic space. I still have a lot to learn about this promising medium, but because we already have the infrastructure, we might as well figure out how to use it to its best advantage.

To me, that best advantage is to let each learner create his (or her) own "learning environment", sourcing their own materials, experiences, and mentors for whatever it is they want to learn. From the diversity of experiences, a class -- whether physical or online -- becomes a home node for a group of learners who teach and learn from each other. That of course means that the teacher can no longer be the "source" (and we'd be deluding ourselves if we think we still are in this day and age), but an orchestrator of the learning that goes on in the class. That'll be a major task for us, in keeping flexible enough to work all that cacophony into some kind of music that everyone can make sense of.

With the web, there is no more need for content, just relevance and coherence, tempered with strong values. We're rewriting the entire book of pedagogy, and for me, it's cool to be starting on page one.

Q-tip attends the Singapore Dog Walk 2008

Took Q-tip to socialize with her fellow genus at the annual Singapore Dog Walk, West Coast Park.

Despite the day being so hot, Q-tip turned her nose up at the water we brought for her from home. What she's drinking is cold Ice Mountain mineral water we bought from a vendor here.

For Q-tip, it was sort of a partial walk and a partial carry. Poor thing had no stamina to complete the full course.

The Move progresses past another checkpoint

First appointment completed without a hitch. All HDB wanted to check was our eligibility to buy and their's to sell. So after a quick round of document verification and signature collecting, the relevant authority has approved the transaction... and we are another step closer to our big move north.

Big ticket expenses for today: paid off our agency for successfully brokering this deal, then made our downpayment for laminate flooring by Vohringer. We need the flooring to lay over the existing granite tile, which in itself is very nice but of a colour we are unable to work with 'cos it's just wrong -- too dark and too red for our taste.

Now attempting to balance between watching TV and putting a dent in my pile of essays. So far the TV's winning...

"Life was simpler when we had less money..."

In preparation for our first appointment at the HDB, I was running around like a mad thing trying to transfer the funds I cashed out of my CPF investments back into my Ordinary Account to be able to have a sufficient balance for the downpayment of our new digs. Nearly freaked out when the nice, young banker boy who attended to me warned that it would take three to four working days to clear the transaction. That's a wee bit too late, considering I needed the money like, let me see... tomorrow!

But no, I don't, actually. After some panicked clarifications, I realised that it was only during our second appointment (at which we collect our keys) that we need to make any significant payments, and not the first. So everything should be all in readiness when I require it, after all. Got myself all worked up for nothing. :p

Now working on collecting all the documents I need to bring tomorrow. Hope I've got everything...

2 wakes in a week

Must be my week for attending wakes. Last Friday, it was for Aggie's mom; today for Cammy's granny. Both deceased had lived till quite a ripe old age, both enjoyed being well taken care of until the end. That, above everything else, is the most anyone can realistically ask for in this lifetime.

Sorry I couldn't join the guys for dinner but happy birthday, anyway, to Sha and Josh!

TP would have been too easy

An art installation in my kitchen as performed by the cats
Artists: Kaiser, Maui

Where do all the babies go?

There's a dearth of babies in S'pore, isn't there? That's the reason for the latest frenzy of mooting fresh incentives for married couples to bravely face the full consequences of their private activities without taking the necessary safety precautions.

Yet one institution seems to be doing its math and coming up with a different answer from our local census bureau. NY kindergarten will be opening its doors to 500+ pre-schoolers from next year. 700 others are on the waiting list.

Parents are willing to fork out close to $1K per three-month term to give their precious a headstart in Chinese language education. That'll nicely pay for all the lovely facilities Junior will be enjoying on campus, like the gym and the kitchen (aerobics instructors, master chefs and fire-safety officials don't come cheap).

The rock-climbing facility isn't for the students. It's for the teachers. Looking after 500+ screaming kids and the parents of 700 other kids still on the waiting list, that's the wall they'll be driven up before each day is over.

Um, what's a "singlethon"? Is that like the festival in which they catch singles, tie them to a stake and mercilessly goad them with biological clocks until they cough up a million bucks in donations? If there's money to be made, it's sure worth exploring...

*crickets chirping in the background

Staffroom looks quite empty today, at least my section of it. People have gone on course or are sick at home. It's quiet, but perhaps a little too quiet.

Could this be a preview of things to come?

How blue is my S'porean II?

Perhaps it's my personal bias. I have a sense of pride when I encounter more than the usual ethnic demographic of people who are making a living here. To know that tiny us have made such an impact on the far-flung corners of the world, and that people there choose to relocate all the way here to share in what we have to offer. I'm proud that we have made this place more than the rock that it is, so much so that we CAN share it with others.

Immigration is a sore point though, for indigenous peoples. Lax Immigration policies practically wiped out native American culture, today's Europeans are antsy about their non-euro enclaves. The Bumis are worried about their Indian and Chinese neighbours.

As for us, we can't exactly say we are indigenous to this island. The majority of us ARE ourselves immigrants who have chosen this place as our home, much in the same way as new immigrants are choosing this place as home. No one's replacing anyone, it's just a continuation of the process that kick-started us into life in the first place.

We immigrant stock are nomadic in nature. We pick a place, we try to settle down and make a living; like it, we stay, don't like, we move on. We identify opportunities, we take opportunities, we make the best use of our opportunities. What more education do we need than that? That's us, our S'porean identity. We freeze, we die, plain and simple.

As for NS: in an actual conflict, we only fight for those we love and care for. We are not protecting anyone other than ourselves, so who cares about FTs who don't serve NS? In a fight, who's going to give them a gun? But in any case, I hope that in the spirit of true neighbourliness, we can still extend our protection to them anyway because they may yet be a generation short of becoming us.

And in any case, with so many different countries our FTs come from, which country could declare war on us and not declare war on their own people? The more people from more countries we can attract to live here and like it, the safer we are. FTs form a natural line of national defence, whether they actively serve NS or not.

Our success cannot be measured in economic terms but rather in the amount of people we can keep on attracting as partners, friends and eventually neighbours... possibly family? The smooth intermingling of our collective blood, sweat and tears is the fuel that makes us the powerhouse of our region. Our unique blend confounds our competing neighbouring nations -- they can never emulate our high-octane formula and that gives us our sole edge in this deadly game of political survival. Let's keep the fuel lines open, and not clog it up with bigotry and our sense of "born S'porean" entitlement as if that gave us some special privilege over everyone else here.

It's still a jungle where we live. It's good to keep sharp and stay wary of predators. We could get rid of all the predators (say via tightening up Immigration laws, etc.), but animals that live without fear of predation usually live on the farm where they are penned and fed till fat, then slaughtered to feed others. Dunno about you, I'll take my chances in the jungle any day.

Hey, RX, I've always enjoyed reading your GP essays. Glad to see NS hasn't dulled your edge. It's great to hear from you again!

Going once, twice... sold!

Oh-tee-pee signed this morning. Barring any unforseen complications, our house is going to a nice FT family. The agreed price is reasonable for our location and considering the market as it is, we are very happy. Made a much smaller loss than expected, 4-figures instead of the five we were anticipating when we began this mad adventure of ours.

Then this news hits the morning papers: "Yishun to get exciting new facilities in facelift". FT family looks like they've got a good deal too. How's that for win-win?

How blue is my S'porean?

We don't even have 50 years of history as a nation, but we already seem to have developed a sharply defined distinction between whom we consider to be true-blue S'poreans and who are "foreign talents" (FTs). We've got people quibbling over losing jobs to FTs, rights to purchase public housing, attend public schools, and now the right to represent the nation in sports.

A true S'porean is someone who was born in the S'pore, and has... um... well, apart from the guys having to serve NS, there isn't really much else. Just how many people in the world can qualify by this drinking-straw narrow definition to be S'porean, then? A couple of million, maybe, out of six billion? We have no history, no land mass, and no critical mass to even make up a decent self-replenishing population, and we still have the temerity to demand an exclusive membership in this little country-club of ours. Right.

When are people going to realize that erecting fences around ourselves is more likely going to keep us in, all nicely penned up suffocating in our own dung, rather than keep other people out? No one would come here willingly anyway, unless we gave them a reason. We ourselves were once cast-offs hailing from other lands, though now having made good, we have excised from our memories the bad old days. This nation grew on the backs of lost souls seeking a better life. When the Brits put out the call that anyone with adventure in their hearts and nothing else in their pockets and stomachs could try their luck here or bust, we were the first to line up at Immigration. Nothing has changed since then, except that we're now starting to get uppity, looking down our noses at our newly-arrived FTs and exclaiming, "there goes the neighbourhood!"

It makes no sense to deny FTs housing and education. How else are they going to assimilate into our community and become S'porean? If they can live door to door with us, struggle through public education with us, they will BE us. Otherwise we segregate them, put their kids in private schools and make them live in separate housing, and then they'll either feel discriminated against, or possibly even superior to us. Neither reaction is going to engender any strong affinity for us and make them want to put their roots down should the choice ever come up for them.

And if they can help us set new standards in sporting and other achievement willingly under our colours, then they represent the best and brightest our nation has to offer. Hiding them under a bushel is simply a pure waste of available talent.

Like it or not, we are an immigrant nation. Our open door through which people freely come and go is an integral part of our success. Close it and we kill the goose that lays our golden eggs.

"I don't know!"

Kids are looking lost and panicky over their second common test paper. Essay exams drive them nuts because their instant response is to assume they know nothing about the topics the questions cover. But that's exactly the point of essay exams, particularly for GP. There is no other reason to take GP than to train in crafting out a rational answer to any question to which our initial response is, "how the ^%#$ should I know??"

GP is humbling that way. Every essay begins with zero knowledge. Unlike the other academic subjects the kids are taking in the JC, it is the question that is more important than the answer. A GP essay is little more than the breaking apart of the question and examining or exploring the intricacies of each little component and then reassembling it all back within the context provided by the question. This is excellent preparation for the Uni at which every question in any subject they will encounter will be structured more or less like this.

It helps to have lots of background knowledge of the subject. The more knowledge we have the more facets we can appreciate of the question, but having comprehensive knowledge is not mandatory. There's only so many bits we can play with in the 800 word limit.

The less the knowledge, the higher the fudge factor. It's best to keep the knowledge up, of course, but it's sufficient to strike a balance between the two. That's the real skill, and that's how most questions get answered in the real world, anyway.

The best questions are those that answer themselves. A good GP student will be able to identify such questions and let it take the lead in coming to an answer.

The higher up the education ladder we climb, the less we know, we realize. But that's great! "I haven't a clue" is the best way to begin answering a question. In fact, it's the only way.

Let the bidding begin!

We finally got an offer for this old house. Just as we were starting to develop an inferiority complex, we received at least an indication that someone was looking at us with more than just a passing interest. There were a couple of other interested parties who raised an eyebrow at us earlier, but took to their heels the instant they noticed some inexplicable feng shui problem they could not reconcile. We've never had a problem living here, but beliefs are beliefs, so whatever.

The offer is no great shakes, nowhere near the king's ransom we were hoping for. But it's a start. We know now how the market values our piece of humble real estate in actual dollars and cents and we're prepared to be realistic ourselves.

And now we wait while they mull over our counter-offer. Make us happy, please.

From the horse's mouth

Spent the last couple of days taking lessons on critical thinking from John B, the man, himself. His technique is simple: layer in a little theory, throw us a bone to maul together in small groups, review the carnage, peppering it with bits of additional techniques, cautions, and other interesting little nuggets as the situation warrants. His lessons are easy-going, free-flowing chat sessions that really made us feel like we were actually learning something... not foreign or alien from ourselves but something we had in ourselves already but hadn't properly awakened yet.

Every discussion was a test, but we weren't testing each other. Rather, we were putting ideas to the test as we took them apart and looked at whether they worked or not, how they worked if they did and where they failed when they didn't. Nothing was personal. I messed up my evaluations a few times, but hey, no pressure; it's all just part of the learning curve, anyway. I never once felt I'd got things so wrong that I was too intimidated to say whatever came to mind the next time something did come to mind.

Good food (yesterday, Ragazzi; today, Colbar) and pleasant company for lunch added additional motivation to a couple of days well spent.

Drama seniors say bye-bye!

NYeDC Seniors’ Farewell Party 08

Never any tears in an NYeDC farewell, we had a silly time at our little soiree making speeches, giving gifts, and enjoying lots of laughter at what is probably the last time the 07 batch will be having any fun at all, at least till their finals are over.

The seniors were seriously out to cause a riot, taking so much trouble to dress especially for the occasion. They were hilarious in their rented costumes. The juniors impressed with their meticulous programme, the attention to detail in improvising a dining hall from a classroom, and for once the food was really good -- catered (which we were happy to pay for) rather than self-burned on a bbq grill, which has been a standard practice for the club as far back as I've known it.

The juniors devised a nutty game to keep us entertained: a cross between bingo and a lucky dip. Up for grabs was an iPod and only those who bingo-ed were eligible to dip for it. The risk was that there were equal odds of lucky and unlucky prizes. But for the 'pod we all put our faces and reputations on the line. Interestingly enough, all the prized were "donated" by the juniors; all stuff they didn't want anymore and "freecycled" for a laugh.

As no one had won the 'pod by the third bingo round, we decided to just put our names in a pot and just draw for it. It was sweet of the seniors who wrote Mel's name on their own ballots, rigging the draw so she'd win it in the end. The 'pod wasn't in working condition anyway, but it was the thought that counted. Heh.

I'm sad to lose the crazy do-anything-for-a-laugh seniors. Their creativity, spirit and energy is so crucial to projecting an impressive on-stage presence. But their successors, the 08 batch, have also been amazing in their self-motivation, organization and planning abilities. With these assets and their desire to improve on their stagecraft, I think the run-up to next year's Drama Night might just be very interesting.

The Dark Joke

It's the Joker we want to see in Batman movies. In "The Dark Knight", Heath Ledger's interpretation is as chilling as we might ever get. Ledger's Joker is no criminal; more like a violent, wanton, sadistic anarchist. He has no agenda beyond playing the role of the bringer of Chaos, and delights in being the spoiler of well-made plans. His aim is to bring an end to social order. Every system is an equal opportunity target, even organized crime. His theory is to eliminate those at the top and the people down the line will eventually turn on and destroy themselves.

The odd thing about this Joker is that he has no "origin" backstory. Just as his face hides behind that grotesque mask, his identity is a complete mystery. It's like he has no beginning and consequently, no end either. He could be anyone, and no one. He is thus the ideal metaphor for the unknown a paranoid nation fears, freaked out by terrorists hiding in every flitting shadow.

The Joker's machinations are sadistic experiments in how far he can push the people he places in mortal moral dilemmas to cross the line. And in Gotham City, so reliant on the Bat as their protector and guardian, and so sold on Harvey Dent's grand vision to turn its crime-ridden streets completely around, the Joker wants to know if the Gothamites have it in them to save themselves when they have no confidence left in their fragile social structures and systems once he's trashed them.

The Bat, rock-solid, honourable, courageous, in possession of a social conscience, and displaying a fighting style so efficient it's almost perfunctory, is every bit the warrior-hero we expect him to be. He too is an anarchist of a different sort. He upholds justice but is not constrained by the legal system. The anonymity behind the mask and a fat bank balance helps. But as the mask hides his face, his is not the face the public can trust.

The Bat, he's the devil we know. The Joker, he's the one we don't. Maniac, unpredictable, menacing, and with serously bad hair, he's the one who hooks us with horrid fascination in this movie. The Joker pulls the strings and the Bat has to play along. With his deft manipulations, Harvey Dent transforms from hero to monster. "The Dark Knight" is a vehicle for the Joker, the raison d'etre that brings his supporting cast to life. The Bat and Dent lose so much to the Joker's insanity. What did it cost Heath Ledger to bring this incarnation of the Joker to life?

Yearbook photo and LC invig

Wayne's the kind of friend who will lend you the shirt off his back. Literally. I needed a proper shirt to wear for the staff photo shoot today 'cos the one I was wearing would have looked absolutely hideous with a tie. Trust me to forget the College yearbook shoot ends today.

The photog had rather mundane ideas for our poses. They were basically police mugshots, two each of full-frontal, and left 'n right 3/4 shots. The only difference was that we didn't have to pose carrying our own serial numbers and we were made to smile like a North Korean in the personal presence of Kim Jong Il himself.

Today was also Listening Comprehension invigilation day. The radio I signed out must have been defective. In order to receive a clear signal the radio insisted that I place myself directly behind the antenna and remain completely motionless until the broadcast ended. Any slight movement I made resulted in static. Anywhere else I stood in the room resulted in static.

The kids seemed quite amused as I arranged myself in different configurations to ensure optimal reception. Standing on one leg didn't help, thank God. Eventually, the radio and I negotiated for a sitting position, both palms flat on the table, elbows akimbo, and I remained roughly frozen in place for the duration.

Oddly enough, I actually understood three of the four stories read in Mandarin over the radio. I'm quite proud of myself now. The first story was about a guy and a seashell he picked up on the beach and then some philosophy about shells being used as money and something about aesthetics which I couldn't quite get. Number two was some guy lamenting that his college buddy's standard of Chinese language was deteriorating with every pretty postcard he receives every year from him. Three was a vignette of a 4th grade student volunteer at a library who was so dedicated to his job, he kept on working there every day even though he had to move elsewhere to live and attend school. This dedicated little tyke turns out to be little Billy Gates whom we know better as an adult than as a 4th grader. The final story was this bizarre father-son bonding activity in which the father plays "trust me" mind games with his 9 year-old. The results of this bonding session will probably be analyzed thoroughly by a professional whom the kid will inevitably be consulting once he gets older.

Wonder if my Chinese is getting better or if today's paper was exceptionally easy?

Model Homeowner

Strangers merrily traipsing around my house is something I'll never get used to. It feels all the more creepy for me as the agent we engaged does all our interacting for us. He's taking our viewers around, chatting and making nice with them, while us two gormless blockheads remain seated and frozen on the living room carpet pretending to be busy watching TV. We'd like to be nicer hosts, really, but we don't trust our own blabbermouths in case we say something stupid about our house that the viewers might take negatively and use as an excuse to bargain down our asking price. So sitting there on the carpet, I feel like Steve Martin's character in "Dirty Rotten Scoundrels", playing his Ruprecht, the Monkey Boy role.

Or else like an animatronic mannequin posing in a showflat, supposedly enjoying his idyllic environs, being the object of envy of every prospective buyer that walks in. *click, wrirr... "my_house_is_great. wanna_buy_it?" ...bzzzt!

When strangers walk into your house and start pointing at various nooks and crannies, whispering among themselves, you know that what you once thought of as yours is no longer. In snatches of overheard conversation, people are weighing the possibilities of converting my living room into a balcony, running cable TV into the bedrooms and partitioning off my dining room and air-conditioning it. Perhaps a serious offer will be coming by our way soon?

Hellboy 2: TGA sort of echoes the human vs nature theme that we've already seen in Prince Caspian and LOTR, except the battleground is the urban landscape of human civilization. It's Nature fighting back in a small, almost helpless way, as the revolt is practically led by a one-elf army while Nature, the faction he purports to fight for, wants no part of his revolution. All Prince Nuada has is his wushu fighting style, a hulking bruiser for a friend, oh, and an evil plan to unleash the ultimate weapon that will extinguish humankind from the face of the earth.

Hellboy himself isn't much different from Nuada. He fights for a people who does not want anything to do with him, their initial admiration turning to fear and distrust when in a pitched battle a city block gets pretty much levelled through melee combat and small(?)-arms fire while they watch in horror.

The problem with Nuada is that he is too focused on a single goal, making him psychotically obsessive and unable to tell friend from foe. So bent is he on vengeance that it's all he thinks about. It's all he trains his body for, it's all his schemes are directed towards, and he no longer cares what he has to sacrifice in order to get what he wants.

In contrast, Hellboy has lots of things to distract him from brooding over his unpleasant future destiny. There's his job, his friends, his smokes, candy, booze, TV, and his girlfriend, Liz, whose explosive tantrums with him are alarmingly increasing in frequency. "I'd give my life for her, but she wants me to do the dishes", he grumbles to Abe, his fishy friend. A typical sentiment of us guys for whom women will always be the Great Mystery.

I like the movie for it's portrayal of simple, mundane humanity that stands out in contrast to the fantastic, bizarre creatures and environments of del Toro's design. Even the constant chaos of the BPRD (Hellboy's secret home base and office) is just another normal day on the job for the blokes working there. Despite our vulnerabilities and what we consider our faults and vices, it's still great to be human.

Free childcare and paternity leave to encourage more births in the S'pore? Ok, free childcare would take some of the financial pinch from raising a kid for a fraction of the 20+ year commitment that parents here face per kid, but paternity leave sounds as attractive as a root canal with only a sledgehammer for anesthetic.

Taking a year off work is in itself tempting, but paternity leave isn't exactly a summer vacation on a pristine tropical beach with an umbrella drink in hand. Paternity leave's never caught on because more often than not, the paternal half of the genetic merger would rather slog out an 18-hour shift at the office where the stress is constant but predictable, than stay home all day spooning mush into one end while manoeuvring around drool and barf, and cleaning poop out the other. Waking up at 4 a.m. isn't for driving out into the country for a spot of fishing, it's to calm a little banshee with a bottle in his mouth instead of over the head... mutter... grumble... yawn... zzz.

I dunno. Alvin would like nothing better than to come home to a brood of kids; he says that's what will ease his day and make him feel all calm and blissful after a hard day at work. Me, nothing raises my blood pressure faster than a little 'un, not to mention being surrounded by them. To me, that's stress I don't need. I'm fine if I happen to be temporarily looking after a kid or two that I can happily return to sender after a few minutes, but who am I going to return my genetic offspring to if I need to get on with my life? As a responsible person, if I made the mess, I have to clean it up. So let's not start, shall we?

Ultimately, it isn't about more incentives to boost the population. People who want kids will have them anyway, regardless. It's the growing number of people like me, all with shrivelled, blackened, hardened raisins that pass for our hearts that need to be addressed. Go all Scandinavian on us if you like. Doubt we'll budge.

Of the few people viewing my place, we had a big surprise last night when none other than Chewie showed up at our front door with Zak, maid and her mom-in-law in tow. Her m-i-l is in the market for new digs, we've got ours on offer.

It was funny to watch Zak get aqcuainted with Q-tip. He was so tentative as he took stabs at her fur with his tiny fingers; and the cats, who kept their distance, fascinated him.

So, of everyone I know only Chewie has seen the inside of my sanctum sanctorum. Since we're selling, any day is open house day. No more closed door policy to drop-ins, friends or strangers alike, at least for now.

Her m-i-l seems impressed with her tour and she's making a second visit tonight, but she isn't exactly jumping to make a bid just yet. It's that kind of a dicey market in property. Everyone's playing it cautiously, cards close to chest. Everyone's looking for a fair deal.

Every child has a different learning style and a different learning pace from every other child. We know this and we firmly believe in it, but regardless the traditional Asian method of education still tailors its teaching approach more or less towards a one size fits all strategy.

Multiple Intelligences: a nice idea, but there'll be time for the kids to develop it on their own once they get past the 'A' Levels. It can't be helped, we say, our production cycle runs less than two years, we've already designed the blueprint for what we consider to be a QC tested and approved product, so we'll do our best to squeeze all our raw materials into the molds we've already cast and hope they'll turn out the right shape at the end of the process.

We've used this manufacturing model for education since the industrial revolution, but while our civilization has already moved on to the digital age our education factories have yet to really catch the wave. This is because we plan for the economy rather than for the people themselves, the emphasis being on the word "for". We know the needs of the job market so we plan for our kids' "employability". We know the needs of our individual students (which generally boils down to the rough guideline of "get as many straight As as possible") so we plan their curriculum and otherwise their lives for them.

And the kids themselves, though they hate being told what to do all the time, after living like this long enough, they get quite lost when suddenly they have to decide things for themselves. For example, they are most likely to prioritize their homework schedule according to which tutor is most likely to give them grief for NOT doing their homework, and so on down a sliding scale. And they wonder why they have no 'free' time. Technically, they are little more than remote controlled automatons responding to signals emanating from the source of the loudest voice. I thought education was supposed to liberate and empower people?

Actually, it does, but it's a delayed gratification thing. The kids will only appreciate what they've been through when they receive their results, when they become adults with good grades to back up their aspirations. That's why the Koreans suffer cram school and write motivational notes to themselves to see the ordeal through.

But trust the Americans to pioneer new ways of student-centric learning using the tools available to us in this digital age. It goes beyond our kids' mundane "research for project work on the Internet is more convenient than having to trek down to the library to flip through the pages of dusty old books and teachers can post our homework online [such slaves!]" response to essay questions of such subject matter. We're looking at ways students can choose what they want to learn, whatever style they want to learn in, at whatever pace they feel comfortable with, and ways for tutors to personalize lessons tailor-made to individual student specifications.

Now there's a field worth exploring with my current batch of kids. But logistically speaking, I'll need to work with smaller groups than what I currently have. Hmm...

Things have been relatively peaceful while Maui recovers from his op. He's not quite up to bouncing off the walls like he used to, but he is still his curious self, following us around hoping to con the unwary of another helping of kibble, as if we don't feed him enough.

And there's that mysterious case of a collapsed ironing board that took place sometime this evening when we weren't looking. That kind of disaster is a Maui trademark, but there was no conclusive evidence to pin on him, and the witnesses aren't talking.

Meantime, Maui's resting from his exertions while Kaiser tries to keep his cool, having to share the sofa with his manja little buddy.

When you just do your job without taking pride in your work, you become quite the a**hole. Because the end result is all that matters, there's no thought to the process, consequences and repercussions of your choice of action. And if you leave more destruction in the wake of achieving your desired end result, you are probably Hancock, the superhero whose callous and careless problem-solving methods leaves those he rescues and other bystanders rather less than impressed.

Hancock is driven to do the right thing: fight crime and save lives whether human or otherwise. He doesn't know why he suffers from this compulsion to be a do-gooder, after all, with his power and his attitude who could stop him from becoming an evil a**hole instead of the altruistic one that he is?

For all the good he does, Hancock has no purpose in life. When he's done saving the world, he's either getting drunk or hangin' out in his RV of Solitude, looking over a world that could be his but doesn't want. He is painfully aware of being the only one of his kind, so he doesn't have much stake in the society around him. Like many of us, there's only a sense of mission: just do the job and go home, with no sense of involvement in the community. It seems a noble and selfless existence, but it's also stupid and ultimately pointless.

About halfway through the movie, Hancock gets a revelation that changes his view of his entire existence. At this point, the movie takes on quite a different complexion. It's an almost schizoid the way slapstick comedy switches into melodrama. Guess it's impossible to sustain a comedy about an irresponsible super-powered being without making him turn over a new leaf somehow.

I went to watch 'Hancock' expecting to laugh myself silly given the angle of the trailers, but I got something of a reflected image instead. I too tend to swoop in, solve problems, and fly off again when I'm no longer needed. In situations where there is no agenda to pursue, I'm at a loss as to how to contribute to the social setting. Hopefully, I'm not as detested as much as Hancock is: I don't have his power to make people regret calling him an "a**hole" one. more. time.

Maui had a month's stay of execution, but it had to happen sooner or later. Doc Kasey deemed him old enough to be 'fixed', and we're looking at the after-effects. This is not a happy cat.

We kinda' felt sorry having to do it to him, but he was already starting to bother Momo, and eventually someone was going to get hurt -- if not emotionally then physically -- if we let him pursue his interest.

It was really sad when we brought him home and watched him stagger groggily around while he refamiliarized himself with our house. He couldn't walk properly probably due to the effect of his anesthesia, and he must be feeling the pain from the op as well. Poor fellow.

His appetite is still good, though. We put him on a fast 12 hours before his appointment as a precaution against choking on his own vomit if the anesthetic made him throw up, so he was quite ravenous by dinnertime.

He's up and about, and more or less walking properly again, now that he's had a chance to recover somewhat from his ordeal. Think he'll pull though ok.

Mas Selamat is on my mind; months, perhaps, after the fact. Golden Boy is S'pore's celebrity escapee who fled detention while he was being held as a suspected terrorist, in case people have already forgotten.

It's because I was previewing "The Road to Guantanamo" on DVD to see how I could use it for class that's when I came to the conclusion that if Goldie was in the custody of the US, he would never have got away. It would have been impossible. He would have been under 24-hour watch in a see-through cage, made to sit all day not talking, not praying, not doing anything except being watched like an animal in a zoo. Just being still and quiet. Did I mention being watched?

No family visits, no lawyer visits. His exercise would have been a five-minute walk once every week. That'll build some muscles. The boredom spending days, weeks, months on end like that is unimaginable. It's almost a relief when the guards drag him out of his cage for his interrogation, daily beating and general abuse, just because at least that's something to DO.

And that kind of treatment is for people the US isn't even sure are actual terrorists. It happened to four guys, Brits of Pakistani descent, who happened to be touring in the wrong part of Afghanistan when the Coalition forces likewise came a-callin'.

No, we were "complacent". We let him out of his cell, allowed him some privacy when he did his toilet, gave him time with his wife and kids. We almost treated him like a human being, despite knowing full well who he was and what he was capable of. We acted like we had nothing to fear from him. We paid a high price when he took advantage of us, but you know what? I'm proud that we did exactly that. That our security personnel are still able to see people as people, not just as the threats they represent.

And that brings us to today's news story: Ingrid Betancourt and fellow hostages escaping the clutches of their captives in a daring, well-planned helicopter rescue by the Columbian army. In a many months' long operation, army infiltrators lulled the rebels into a false sense of security. Hence the FARC-all job of guarding the 15 captives "Cesar" and Co. would otherwise have been watching more closely.

And the one big question that will stick in all our minds is, why couldn't Goldie's escape have been at least as spectacular? But we all know, nothing exciting EVER happens in the S'pore.

The valuation for our current place has finally arrived. We knew we would be selling at a loss, but it turns out the loss isn't as horrific as we thought it might have been. Our neighbour's been eyeing our unit 'cos he'd like some space for his little family and yet not stay too far from his mom, so if we can settle on a price we'll have a sale. Else, it'll be back to our agent and the open market.

Already today, we made a downpayment on a closet set for our new place, with an option for a kitchen set and a feature wall. We went with Closet Design's promotional package, a reasonable price for quite a modern urban designed wardrobe with quiet closing drawers, a finish that won't stain (the designer set a shelf alight with a bit of lighter fluid, yet there was not a mark when the flame died down), and durable sliding doors.

The designer who spoke to us was an easygoing, affable fellow, confident but no pressure. His designs looked fresher and much more flexible than the generic designs we saw at IMM last weekend, so that kinda' decided it.

On our way home, we stopped at Just Anthony. June had her eye on a low, flat Chinese drum she thought would be great to convert into a coffee table. They'd sold out the one in the colour she wanted, so she settled for a smaller drum she thinks would make a great side table, once she can figure out how to acquire an appropriate stand for it.

The new place will be June's dream home.

The person most qualified to lead is the one with the higher test scores. At least, Maxwell Smart (Steve Carell) believes so, as do most of the kids undergoing education in sunny S'pore. This, Smart boldly declares to Agent 99 (Anne Hathaway), an agent with vastly more field experience than him. But it isn't who leads that counts, it's how they are able to partner up, support each other's weaknesses with their own strengths, and ultimately trust each other despite evidence that seems to indicate that they shouldn't, that make them the on-screen pair to watch this summer.

"Get Smart" is one of the funniest movies I've watched this year. The situation is ridiculously improbable, but the moments that kept me laughing were the numerous lines of deadpan dialogue, and caustic one-liners exchanged between the characters. Smart, an analyst and a meticulous office worker gets to face off against violent terrorists, assassins and nameless henchmen in order to save the President (a bit like a George W gone senile) the target of a nuclear detonation in a major US city, as plotted by Siegfried (Terence Stamp).

But Smart is no bumbling Johnny English. Despite his lack of field experience, he is "not totally incompetent". He has the skills, though not quite the finesse of his partner, Agent 99, and lethality of his role model -- the compromised, sidelined and frustrated Agent 23 (Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson"). Smart is smart, able to pick up clues garnered from evesdropped conversations and make informed -- if long-winded -- deductions, but is also quite adept at improvising his way around tight spots in a trial-and-error fashion.

Fortunately, his errors are quite forgiving. If anything, Smart gets into trouble more often with his own secret agent gadgets. His personal nemesis is the Swiss Army Knife with additional attachments created for him by his two geeky lab tech buddies, Bruce and Lloyd. For an inanimate prop, in Smart's hands it almost develops a personality that seems to delight in tormenting him.

Terence Stamp, as the evil Siegfried, is most memorable for his stinging one-line insults that are even more deadly than his genocidal ambitions. At the receiving end is the monstrous, yet vulnerable Dalip "The Great Khali" Singh, Siegfried's personal Swiss Army Knife of sorts.

While there are moments of pure slapstick, "Get Smart" with it's inside look at how ridiculous, improbable and impractical spy flicks are turns out to be as smart as movies of this genre can get.

Edit 01:
A rather dispirited set of recent entries. Mostly half-hearted attempts at getting my brain reacclimatized back to the work routine and social environment I've been rather cut-off from since the summer hols. NBS has a much more interesting take (entitled "Pet') on last night's activities compared to the dry record below.

Celebrated two birthdays with the Batam crew, Sha and Fen making up the full table. We'd heard about the 50% discounted seafood at Ah Yat, Shaw Towers, so that seemed like a great new place to try out.

We opened accounts with a pile of cereal prawns and another of mussels, and a sea-bass steamed in black bean sauce. The mussels were of a freshness I've never experienced before -- the meat sort of burst into mussel juice at the first bite, while I'm more used to the kind that's rubbery and needs a good chewing before it's in any condition to be swallowed.

We also ordered a dish of stir-fried broccoli that turned out to be the most expensive dish of stir-fried broccoli ever, costing more than the even the steamed sea-bass. Did I mention seafood was 50% discounted? Amy thinks they have to make up the difference somewhere.

But the whole point of this jaunt all the way to Beach Road was the crab. We ordered three pairs of crabs in the black pepper, garlic steamed and cream varieties. I dunno. I like my crab steamed, but the steamed crab didn't exactly make me sit up and take notice of it. That didn't stop me from demolishing probably more than my fair share, but if the steamed crab wasn't impressive, I can't say much for the other two varieties either.

Anyway, happy birthday to our two birthday girls!

Tired of eating cheaply so often these days. We decided to indulge ourselves at Charco's which offers chix, ribs and schnitzel. I found this place a couple of weeks back when I was actually looking for the Botak Jones AMK outlet. It seems the Botak guy has moved out and Charco's is happily filling the vacancy.

For a kopitiam stall, Charco's offers an extensive and varied menu. What June and I went for was the daily special: quarter chix with three different side salads x 2 for under $14.

While the chix itself is tender and tasty (they'll do it to a traditional Portuguese recipe as an option), I was more taken by the salad bar featuring eight different kinds of salad from which I could pick any three as side dishes. On the plate in the picture, we're looking at Greek, Caesar and potato salads. Not bad at all.

Warning!
Wild animal on the loose

Wanted for causing:
- Collateral damage to kitchen crockery
- Severe contusion to female owner's right 2nd last toe (due to falling kitchen crockery)

Approach with caution!
- Suspect is armed with extraordinary charm
- Able to extract forgiveness easily from his victims and pursuers alike


No reward offered for suspect's capture and punishment.

Spent the last three days working with the rest of the staff on the College's direction for the next few years. Not going to say too much about that as lots of details are still in the process of being hammered out.

Because we had to review our previous goals and set new ones, it was interesting to hear what the different people involved on campus had to contribute towards the general direction we eventually found some consensus on. As we also included representatives from our student body, their parents and alumni, there were lots of views to consider, and not everything complementary either. So some of the changes we are proposing should be quite timely, though the things that ain't broke we ain't fixin', so there.

Meantime, it's confirmed. June and I have committed to our move up north, having exercised our Option to Purchase now that the bank has approved our loan. We've already engaged someone to envision the interior of our new place, and someone else came over yesterday to appraise the value of our present place. Things are moving so quickly.

Now that the reality of the move has finally sunk in, I guess I am becoming excited about it. Seems like every ten years or so, I acquire a new address. Nomadic lifestyle.

As a further aside, management presented me with my long-service cert during the big meeting today. It was funny, the number of gasps and the buzzing that went on among the gathered staff when VP called out my name. I know just how they felt 'cos I was feeling the exact same thing. Even I can't believe I signed my employment contract a whole decade ago. Must be the reason why I'm behaving a little older and crankier these days.

And as a further, further aside, thanks, Amy, Dee and HP for the lovely souvenirs y'all got me from NY, NY. Considering what I just recently bought, it was just as well that it was a trip I missed.

Questions arise about the effectiveness of mainstream teachers and school programmes due to the high demand for after-curriculum tuition with star tutors who have an apparent knack of turning flunking students around into exam aces. With this kind of success rate, any student who isn't taking some kind of tuition is going to want to add their name to a long waiting list, giving even more credence to the already mystical following that these self-styled academic gurus have built around themselves.

We teachers in the mainstream are our own worst enemies in this game. We think too highly of ourselves and our ability to "make a difference" to the kids under our charge. We've bought in too deeply the tenets of our own industry's recruitment campaigns, holding ourselves more responsible than necessary for our kids' successes. We think that because we "mould the future of our nation in our hands", any mistake we make, any standard we let slide, is going to bring the future crashing down around our ears and it'll be all our fault. And not just us, but everyone else not in the industry will be pointing fingers at us and saying likewise too.

Because we bear this imaginery burden, we take our craft a little too seriously. Every little thing becomes a teaching point for us, and not always in a nice way. Even the tests and examinations we set become "teaching tools" instead of just being assessment milestones. What I mean is, we set questions we don't really expect the kids to answer so that we can teach them after the exam how to answer the question properly. When we mark exams, we strongly penalize every infraction because then we create more opportunities to teach what the "correct" answer should be. It isn't policy, it's more like reflex.

While it's great that we are so dedicated to our work, perhaps the exams aren't the best material to make teaching points out of. It's a pity, but normal, ordinary people see exam scores as a measure of personal competence in a subject, whereas we teachers expect them to make mistakes in the papers; so we seem to be working at cross-purposes here. Poor scores at the tests, exams and continual assessments that we set drive the confidence right out of our kids and drive them straight into the open arms of private tutors who lay out the welcome mats for them. Private tuition has become a most lucrative enterprise in this kind of education environment.

How do tutors and tuition agencies gain that magical aura that seems to make silk purses out of sows' ears? From the results their kids attain from the external exam (i.e., Cambridge) itself, which is ultimately what counts in the job market. The external agency, unlike us in the teaching industry, has no agenda whatsoever in setting and marking its exams. Cambridge has no personal stake in the individual candidates' papers. Cambridge just marks what appears on exam scripts. In other words, Cambridge as an external marker is more likely to give a fairer assessment of the papers they receive than we are when we set and mark our internal exams, anxious as we are to ensure the kids make all the mistakes they can during our assessments so that they don't make the same mistakes during the Cambridge exams.

Private tutors point to the Cambridge marked results and -- voila -- instant success.

This is not to say that private tutors aren't excellent teachers in themselves. They probably are, and it's a lot more motivating when kids are taught by someone they like, but don't be fooled by the numbers game. There's still no substitute for disciplined self-study, for asking questions and clarifying points no matter who is at the head of the classroom.